Lyndon Perry - The Last Prayer

The gaunt priest set up his makeshift confessional in silence.

It had been quite a few years since the last cleaning

Ten or so? Elias had asked his younger companion when the sheriff had informed him of the recent verdict.

Samuel didnt hesitate. Twelve, his secretary had responded, always accurate, always prompt.

The responsibility, grim as it was, had sparked in the frail servant of God a sense of somber purpose. One hed thought hed lost. His previous act of ministry had been declined, well, twelve years earlierpolitely, but a rejection neverthelessand Elias had discovered, time and again, various confirmations of his suspected irrelevance to life in the underground community.

Beads of perspiration dotted the priests balding pate as he finished erecting the booth. His secretary handed him the curtain that would provide the confessor a semblance of privacy for the last prayer.

I hope were not disappointed again, Samuel. I fear if our services are ignored our standing in the silo may wane. The older man sighed. Maybe Im fooling myself. Maybe our days are already past and Im just a relic of a bygone era. Has the sun already set for us, Samuel? Has it? The priests eyes begged for contradiction.

Elias Always accurate. Always circumspect. it may be that a new day will soon dawn.

But both of them knew the truth of it. The number of candidates entering seminary training had been on the decline for yearstwenty-seven straight, hed been informed. And that despite the inclusion of women and the nongendered.

Hell, theyve even allowed nonbelievers into the priesthood! Elias couldnt help but be cynical. Dispensing liturgical compassion and rote absolution was a role any literate person could fill, the mayor had told him. But, God Almighty, that wasnt him! He was a believer, he was one of the faithful.

Father? Jedediah Alston knocked at the door, interrupting Eliass thoughts. Peeking his head into the converted storage room, the broad-shouldered sheriff said, The condemned has agreed to confession. You ready?

Elias hid a satisfied tremor with a lift of his shoulders and gave his secretary a flushed smile. Maybe he was needed after all. Maybe he could help direct this one soulterrified, surely, and losttoward peace before the cleaning.

Send him in. All is prepared.

The sheriff replied with a curt nod and retreated down the hall, passing empty cells until he reached the one that held the prisoner.

Ill be just outside the door if you have any need, Samuel said as he left the temporary chapel adjacent to the near-empty jail. Crime had decreased along with faith, it seemed.

Elias nodded and entered his half of the confessional, settling himself to hear the final prayer of a desperate man. Just as he pulled the door to, he caught a glimpse of Sheriff Alston escorting a young girl into the room and pointing her toward the booth.

This cant be right. But then he realized he never thought to ask who the condemned person was. Was he addled or simply a foolish and self-absorbed old man? He shook his head to clear it.

The priest heard Alston leave and the girl enter her side of the confessional.

Father? she asked in a whisper.

Confidence flooded his veins. Here was a frightened soul needing assurance. Here was his duty. Yes, my child? Do you wish to make a confession?

Silence met his anticipation and disassembled it.

No, Father, the girl said, her voice bold now, urgent. Ive come to ask you to help me clean.

Elias wasnt one to sputter. On this occasion it couldnt be helped. What in heavens name do you mean, child?

Yes! Thats it, heaven. We have to scrub heavens window.

So innocent, so troubling.

The small booth grew stifling and more than a few beads of sweat hurdled the priests pinched brow and escaped down his sharply chiseled nose. Elias pushed at his door for air and impulsively pulled the curtain aside. Before him was a girl of perhaps ten or eleven, dressed in dreary garba sweepers daughter to be surewith an uncertain yet expectant look playing across her face.

I I know you.

Yes, Father. You said words at my sisters funeral last year.

He remembered. The girls twin. Blondish hair, the both of them. Spry, wiry things. Inseparable, from what their parents said. The sister had died helping her father in an unauthorized sweep.

Lorna, wasnt it? She must have been about ten years old.

Lenora, but everyone calls her Lonni. Im Hanna. And yes, were both eleven now. She sat up straight, waiting for the priest, meeting his gaze.

Elias coughed. Youre both yes, of course. His eyes flitted to the door that led back to the jailhouse. Straying a bit from his liturgical script, he asked, So why are you here, Hanna? Why were you condemned?

The dreams I think. Lonnis been telling me about heaven and how everyone in the silo needs to go there.

Such faith. Yes, child, this is what I try to tell everyone as well. He attempted a smile.

Then youll join me in the cleaning? Hanna matched his smile and raised him a shining glow. Thank you! Thank you!

No. I mean I dont understand.

The glow never wavered. Its outside, Father. Its just above us. Were supposed to show them the way. Once we clean the window, theyll see for themselves and follow us to heaven.

Sheriff, we must stop this madness. Young Hanna is clearly touched. In the name of God, why has this child been condemned?

Hanna had been returned to her holding cell and both Elias and Samuel stood in the office of Jedediah Alston, who leaned back in his chair, boots propped atop his desk. Alstons easy manner and simple speech belied his strict authority as sheriff, second only to the silos mayor in its reach and reputation.

Its in the report, Father. He tossed a file onto a stack of paperwork that looked weeks behind attention. Didnt you read it?

He, in fact, had not. So caught up in his most sacred dutypreparing for a condemned souls last prayerhed neglected a rather essential part of it: familiarizing himself with the person and the crime. Hed come to rely on Samuel far too heavily in recent months. Or perhaps it was years.

His negligence had caught up with him. Nothing about his encounter with Hanna was going well. It went off-rail when he broke protocol and conversed with the prisoner. The confession went down-silo from there and ended with him forgetting to lead the girl in her final words to God.

One positive outcome, if it could be called that, was that his failure probably negated his sacrosanct responsibility to hold in confidence what was said to him. But looking into the steely eyes of the sheriff, Elias hesitated to let on how much he knew. Which was enough. After a brief conversation about Hannas trial with Samuelalways informed and ready to assisthe knew he couldnt in good conscience agree with the verdict. He had questions. He had doubts.

Im familiar with the report, Sheriff. I want to hear it from you. It seems, if you dont mind me saying so, a rather exceptional case and one that might have been handled, well, differently.

Alston uncrossed his legs and removed them from his old wooden desk, pushed his swivel chair back, and slowly stood. His six-three frame offered a stark contrast to the stooped and shrinking figure before him. Even Samuel, who matched him in height but not in heft, was overshadowed.

I do mind your saying so. We have a silo to run and you priests have a role to play. Or has age caused you to forget your place?

Elias, frail as he was, took the dressing down in stride. Hed outlasted four sheriffs and two mayors in his forty-odd years as chief priest of the upper levels. It wasnt their authority that intimidated him, it was something else entirely. The nagging feeling that the silo had moved on without him. But he put that concern behind him for now.