The Game

Father Mathew decided to play the stranger's game. Even if he didn't know what she had to offer and what her motives were, it couldn't make the situation any worse than it already was. Could it?

“Yes, you're right,” he admitted, ”the village needs help, its inhabitants need help. If you can do anything to alleviate the worst of the hardship, then I beg you not to abandon them.”

“I will gladly help if you do something for me too.”

'I see,' he thought, 'I knew there was a catch'.

“What do you want from me?”

“Not much. Nothing at all, really. I just want you to think of something.”

Mathew frowned. He didn't understand what that strange demand was supposed to mean. But he couldn't see any reason why he shouldn't agree to the request. The seductive voice continued to speak.

“I'm sure you remember a certain churchgoer. Erika. She always sits in the front row.”

He lowered his eyes. Yes, of course he knew who she was talking about. The image of the young woman rose up in his mind's eye as if she were standing right before him. Erika had never missed one of his church services. Every Sunday she sat at the front in the first pew and looked up at him with her angelic face. He had known her since he had baptized her 18 years ago. Since then, he had accompanied her on her journey through life, watching her grow up and blossom into a beautiful woman. She now wore her long, blonde hair, which she used to braid into tight plaits, loose so that it flowed over her shoulders like liquid gold. He remembered the way she folded her hands in prayer and the grace of her movements when she crossed herself.

It wasn't just her outward appearance that he remembered. He thought he could hear her voice, bright and clear, as she joined in a chorale. However, she spoke softly and almost shyly when she came to confession. Her faith was deep and pure, at the same time unusually serious and profound for someone her age. Sometimes she asked him questions about religion that he could hardly answer himself.

He was always happy to see Erika and it was a pleasure for him to talk to her. But deep down, something nagged at him, an unpleasant feeling that tormented him when she was around. It was a dark, hard-to-define emotion that he denied to himself and therefore never questioned what could be the cause. He compared it to a wound that had never fully healed in a place that could not be seen. And yet you knew it was there and unconsciously scratched it open again and again.

“What do you think?”

The priest winced. Her quiet question came from right next to his ear. He hadn't even noticed how close the strange woman had moved to him. They were standing so close together that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body.

“I...” he began, but didn't know how to put his thoughts into words.

She smiled wittingly, as if she already knew the answer.

He became restless. He wanted to push her away and simultaneously shied away from touching her. There was something about her that attracted and repelled him at the same time. He was sure that it would be better to send her away. But at the same time, he didn't want her to leave.