The Confession: Chapter 2
Romero takes his time eating the almost rare lamb. Even though he is not hungry and he did not come to this place to eat, he must admit it is not bad, maybe even quite good.
Halfway through his meal, as he takes another bite of the lamb, Romero something again. It is from the vent again. It sounds like a faint cry again.
He stops mid-bite. The sound is gone. The room is quiet. He swallows the piece of lamb and takes a drink from his glass of wine. He brings the glass to his lips. Another sound. Another faint cry.
Romero gets up from his chair. The whisper continues. He kneels down next to the vent on the floor. He puts his ear down to the vent trying to understand the cry.
It sounds like a voice from a woman.
“Help.”
It is very faint. She repeats.
“Help.”
Romero can’t be sure of the words being said or if they are even words at all. He lowers his head even more his ear directly on the vent.
He is startled by a loud sound. It is the loud footsteps of the woman. She stands at the other end of the dining hall.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Romero?”
“I…I’m sorry. I heard something again. It sounded like a voice. A voice crying out for help.”
“It is the wind.”
“But it sounded like..”
“It is the wind.”
Romero stands up and looks to the window. It is night now, dark outside. There doesn’t seem to be much wind.
The woman walks over to the head of the table and takes the plate of half-eaten food.
“I will bring dessert.”
“That is not necessary.”
“Sit down, sir. I will bring dessert.” She is unyielding. She begins to walk out of the dining room. Romero sits down and looks at his watch.
“Will Mr. Westbury be joining soon. I really must get back to the church. It is a long drive and I should be leaving shortly.”
The woman stops on the other side of the dining room. She turns to Romero, still holding the plate. She stares at him. She does not say anything.
Romero looks back at her confused, worried.
From the darkness behind Romero there is movement. The woman from the other end of the hall watches this movement behind Romero. He thinks she is staring at him, but she is watching a shape emerge out of the blackness.
The shape begins to take form behind Romero. The woman continues to stare at it. Romero is still confused, unaware of the movement behind him.
Slowly, very slowly, this shape creeps forward closer and closer to Romero. A pale hand reaches out from the darkness. A ghostly face hovers above Romero’s head. The hand reaches out and brushes Romero’s left cheek. Romero turns and sees nothing.
“The church? What a comforting thought.”
Romero jumps at the voice. He turns and looks at a very old man dressed in a dark robe who is now on his right side. The man looks to be near a hundred.
“Did I startle you?”
Westbury speaks with an undefinable accent. He pulls out a chair near the end of the table, next to Romero. He turns to the woman on the other side of the dining hall before he sits down.
“That will be all Grace.”
She leaves.
Westbury sits in the chair next to Romero. His right hand rests on a cane with the carved head of a ram on top.
“I wish I could join you. It has been far too long since I was able to enter a place of worship.”
Romero composes himself.
“I’m sure arrangements could be made for you to attend a service.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t think that would be possible for a man in my condition.”
Westbury seems in good humor, friendly.
“I apologize for my tardiness. I trust that Grace has been taking care of you.”
“Yes.”
Grace returns and a bowl of dessert is unceremoniously placed in front of ROMERO and as soon as she was there she is gone.
Westbury smiles. His teeth are discolored. He nods at the dessert.
“Bread pudding, it is quite good.”
Romero looks down at the dessert. It does not look appetizing.
“You will not be dining tonight?”
“At the moment, I am not hungry.” Westbury smiles again.
“I really do have little time.”
“So do I.”
“I mean..” Romero tries to clarify. Westbury cuts him off.
“I know what you mean. Please forgive an old man a small joke.”
“We should start.”
“With the confession?”
“Yes.”
The old man nods his approval to the young man.
“Do you prefer to do this at the table face to face or…”
“I would like to see your face as I confess.”
Now it is the young man’s turn to nod his approval to the old man. Romero readies himself to say some words of prayer, but Westbury breaks down before he can start.
“I have done terrible things, Father, very terrible things. I have been such a horrible being who has taken so much from others. I am not good, Father. I am evil. I have condemned myself to an eternity in Hell.”
Westbury puts his head in his hands, as though he is weeping.
“You can save yourself. There is still time.”
“I have murdered so many, far too many to be forgiven. I have killed because of my lust for blood, for vengeance. Do you understand what I am saying to you?”
Westbury looks up at Romero, tears in his eyes.
“So much death.” Westbury shakes his head. Romero is worried, trying to understand this old man’s confession. He clears his threat.
“Please continue.”
The old man lowers his head again. He can’t continue. Romero reaches out to comfort him, but before his hand can touch the old man’s shoulder, Westbury straightens up, his eyes bright, as if he had never said anything, as if he had never confessed anything, back to the pleasant demeanor of a casual dinner conversation.
Westbury stands with agility of a young man and turns on his cane. He walks towards the end of the dining room, leaving Romero seated at the table.
Westbury stops at the edge of the room and looks back.
“We shall retire to the sitting room.”
Next Chapter: Chapter 3
Previous Chapter: Chapter 1