“I’m just fine right here.” The old man reached out and clasped Gabriel’s hand with ice-cold fingers.

Gabriel closed his eyes. “Don’t give up.” He squeezed the priest’s hand. “I need you.”

Gareth’s short, rattling breaths echoed through the room, and Gabriel knew that it was a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. “Gabriel, my friend, a life without death wouldn’t be a life at all, now would it?”

“You can fight this. Give me time. I’ll find a cure.”

“It’s okay. I’m an old geezer, remember? I’m supposed to die.”

“Not yet. Don’t die on me.”

“Gabriel, you have to—”

“Don’t leave me alone in this terrible goddamn world. You’re one of the only two people who have ever understood me. Yvonne and I… we’re not doing well. I think I messed everything up. I need you.”

Father Gareth’s eyes narrowed, then his smile was replaced by a look of deep sadness. “You’re drunk.”

Gabriel lowered his head. “I’m not.”

“Don’t bother lying to me. I know you too well.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“It’s too late for me to change anything.” Gareth paused, gasping for air. “But if there’s one thing that you could grant me, it’s this.”

“Don’t talk that way.”

“My one wish… please, Gabriel, listen to me. Stop destroying yourself. Please… please stop destroying yourself.”

Bile rose in the back of Gabriel’s throat. “I’m not destroying myself. I know my limits. Sure, I drank too much when I was younger, but I was a kid. I know better now. And yes, I did have a few drinks on the way here, but right now, I’m simply using alcohol as a pressure valve. It’s just a temporary thing, because if you haven’t noticed, my life is kind of falling apart. Nobody wants to fund my research. I got fired again last month. You’re sick. And now Yvonne is saying… she’s saying…” Gabriel grabbed the wastebasket beside the nightstand. He shut his eyes to block the sight of the pile of bloody tissues in the bottom of it, stuck his face over the rim, and vomited. “Father,” he said, panting, “really, it’s just—” He vomited again.

Father Gareth leaned forward and patted Gabriel’s back. Gabriel looked up to see that the old man was clutching a rosary, and his lips were mouthing the words of the Our Father. Eventually, Gabriel could breathe again. He raised his head and wiped the drool from his lips.

“Are you okay?” Gareth asked.

“I’m sorry. Hell, I’m sorry.”

Father Gareth winked. “I forgive you.”

“Don’t die,” Gabriel pleaded. “You were the first person who ever gave me a chance. I can’t do it without you. I just can’t.” Gabriel swiped at his tears with his shirt sleeve. His stomach groaned.

“Yeah, you can.” The old priest smiled.

“You don’t get it. I always mess things up. I—”

Gareth raised a hand. “You’ll straighten up and get past all of this drunken nonsense. I have faith in you, faith in your willpower, faith in your determination, your drive, your brilliant mind. Gabriel, you’ve been an inspiration to me; I hope you know that. You’re one of the most remarkable men I’ve ever met.”

“Stop! Stop acting like this is a done deal, like it’s already over, and you’re saying goodbye.”

“But this is goodbye. I know you don’t want to admit this, but we both know that I’m going to die soon. Days, weeks, hours, who knows? But whenever it happens, just know that you won’t ever lose me. Because after I die, my soul will always be—”

“No, damn it! Don’t you dare give up on real life just because you believe that some imaginary old man with a beard will pluck your soul out of your body and pull you up into the sky. Don’t you dare let go of life for the sake of a fairytale!”

Gareth rolled his eyes. “Gabriel—”

“Gareth, there’s no such thing as a soul. People turn to dust when they die. This soul idea, these ridiculous spiritual notions that you’re giving up your life for, it’s a fantasy. A waste of time. It’s the same bullshit ideas that my parents tried to shove down my throat my whole life, and I’m sick of hearing them.”

Gabriel was shaking. The words had spewed out of him before he could think about what he was saying. He’d always tried to avoid the faith conversation, terrified that it might shatter the bond between them. But he noticed that Father Gareth’s smile was just as delighted as ever. The old priest’s faith was like an eternal candle, protecting him from every monster in the shadows. Gabriel didn’t understand it. On some level, he admired that ability to retain belief in the unseen, but it still didn’t make any sense to him.

“Humor me for a moment,” Father Gareth said. “Can I ask that brilliant mind of yours a question?”

Gabriel nodded.

Gareth chuckled feebly. “Let’s pretend that there is a God, just for a moment. It doesn’t have to be the Christian God. Any version of God will do, any grand creator, any omniscient being that adequately fits the role. If there is a God, and if you had the chance for a one-on-one conversation with him, what would you tell him? What would you ask him?”

Gabriel pondered his answer, mentally spreading out the concept like cookie batter under a rolling pin. He listened to the droning hum of the oxygen concentrator and Gareth’s rattling breaths. “I’d ask him: why me? That’s what I’d ask. I’d ask why he picked me. I’d tell him ‘Hey, God, how dare you curse me with this supposedly brilliant mind?’ And then, I’d spit in the asshole’s face. Seriously, this brilliant mind that I’m so lucky to have? It’s a goddamn punishment is what it is. And if God exists, then it’s his fault. So after I spit in his face, I’d tell him to take that brilliant mind back and shove it up his ass. I’d tell him to carve some holes in my grey matter and make me a bit stupider.” Gabriel stood up, shaking his head. “That’s what I’d tell God, if God existed. And I’d mean every damn word of it.”

Gabriel’s skin was sticky with dried sweat. He wanted to run away from himself. That was impossible, but he could run away from Gareth. “I have to go. I’ll come back soon, okay? Stay safe until then. Don’t die. I’ll come back in a few days, I swear it. A few days.”

Gareth laughed and raised his blue-veined hand in a cheerful salute. “God bless you, Gabriel Schist!”

Fresh tears ran from Gabriel’s eyes. He wiped them away then tentatively stepped backward, slowly initiating his cowardly escape. Looking at Old Gareth’s smile, hearing that wonderful, merry laugh, he felt a stabbing pain in his heart. He wanted to voice his affection, but the words couldn’t escape his lips. He didn’t deserve Gareth’s love.

“A few days,” Gabriel repeated and walked out of the bedroom.

When he reached the front door, he paused. He didn’t want to leave. He shook his head. He’d be coming back in a few days. He’d see Gareth again. There was no reason to get sentimental.

He headed back to his car, and as much as he hated himself for it, the first thing he did was beeline it to the nearest bar. He drank until his blood was thinner than water then, too drunk to drive, crashed in a sleazy motel next to the bar. As he curled up under the cheap, sticky comforters, he promised himself that he would go back to see Gareth. And on his next visit, he would finally express how much the old priest meant to him, how much he loved him.

The following day, Gabriel woke up sometime in the afternoon. He downed some complimentary coffee from the motel lobby, which kick-started his nervous system just enough so that he could drive home. He pulled into the driveway at a cockeyed angle, decided it wasn’t worth fixing it, and climbed out of the car. Yvonne wasn’t home, though his mind was too foggy to figure out where she might be.

He quickly started the coffee machine and popped some pain pills to take care of his headache. When the telephone rang, he was so startled that he nearly fell.

“Hello?”

“Hello, am I speaking to Gabriel Schist?” The voice was mechanical and unfamiliar.

“This is he.” Gabriel rubbed his eyes.

“Mr. Schist, I’m calling from the hospital. I’m sorry to inform you that—”

“Fuck.” His stomach lurched. Not now, please, not like this. “Please tell me this isn’t about Father Gareth. The priest. Please.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Schist. Father Gareth passed away this morning.”

Chapter 34: