could do it. And so far” — he rapped the table-” so good.”
The waitress, taking Zoo’s gesture as a summons, popped up at their side. “More coffee?” Zoo shook his head and presented a credit card.
“Oddly,” Father Tully said, returning to the subject at hand, “I think I’m best able to understand what you’re saying.”
Zoo looked surprised. “You’re not married!”
The priest chuckled. “No. And my experience with women is more like that of a spectator. But it’s coming.”
“What’s coming?”
“A Roman Catholic clergy that freely chooses to be married or celibate. It’s just around the corner. There’s hardly anybody in the seminary studying to be a priest. The time is fast approaching when there won’t be enough priests left to serve the Catholic population. Catholicism is a sacramental religion. And to make sacraments you gotta have priests. When the supply of priests dwindles down to a precious few, the Pope and the bishops will undoubtedly be forced to accept what just about everybody seems to think is the ultimate solution to the priest shortage: a married priesthood.
“Personally, I don’t think this is the answer. I think the Church has to open up interiorly, fearlessly-like it did back in the days of Pope John XXIII.
“But the first step will be an optional married clergy. And that’s when we meet problems like yours: which comes first, my priesthood or my marriage?”
The waitress returned. Zoo added a tip and signed the chit. As he tucked his wallet in his pocket, Zoo, one eyebrow arched, said, “Would you get married … I mean if the Church let you?”
“I don’t really know. I may never get the chance to know. When I say the move to optional celibacy is just around the corner, I mean the Church’s distance to the corner. The Church thinks in hundreds of years. And, while I doubt this change will wait for a hundred years, I also doubt it’ll take place tomorrow.
“As for there being problems for priests and their wives, I don’t mean it would be an epidemic. I’m sure that cops who experience marital problems are in the minority. Not everybody, by any means, is as dedicated to police work as you are. And not all priests would experience similar problems. But I think the average for priests would be higher-at least in the beginning.
“I could be wrong, but I think that among priests the sense of total dedication and availability is more common than among police.”
“Interesting,” Zoo said, whether or not he agreed.
The two rose and headed for the exit.
“Say,” Zoo said, “when Anne Marie was giving you a little history on me, did she mention anything about our wedding?”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, I was married before. But at no time during the process of getting married did that come up. We did have a few meetings with her priest. I kind of anticipated we’d have to get into that. From some of the things I picked up working with Father Koesler, I know your Church requires more than a civil divorce before another marriage. It’s called an annulment, no?”
Father Tully nodded. He desperately wanted to change the subject. Nothing came to mind.
“It was like waiting for the second shoe to fall. The subject just never came up. I didn’t push it. I was happy it was apparently going so smoothly. I was sure if the priest insisted on getting this annulment there would be lots of paperwork and long delays.” Father Tully made no comment.
“Well, that was
Zoo’s beeper sounded.
“’Scuse me, I’ve got to get this.” Zoo headed for a phone.
Father Tully breathed a sigh of relief. He knew perfectly well what had been done and not done in the marriage of his brother and sister-in-law. He had, on occasion, done something similar for couples. Resulting in a valid and real marriage in civil law as well as sincere consciences. But being invalid and carrying no weight in Church law.
Father Tully had every reason to believe that the consciences of both partners to his brother’s marriage were at ease. Asked if they were married, neither one would have responded, “a little bit” or “partially.” Their consciences were at peace and Father Tully was not about to upset this package.
Zoo returned from the phone transformed. Where a few moments ago, he had been relaxed and mildly inquisitive, he was now all business. “There’s been a murder. That new branch of Adams Bank and Trust-somebody was killed.”
Excitement almost snatched Father Tully’s breath away. “Who was it? Do you know who was killed?”
“The manager.” Zoo was walking so rapidly that his brother found it hard to keep up.
Zoo was parked around the corner on Grand River so they didn’t have to wait for Carl’s parking attendant. As they entered the car, Zoo said, “I’ll drop you off at St. Joe’s.”
Was this a pattern? It was beginning to seem that when it was time for Zoo to drive his brother home, some emergency intervened. Father Tully was definitely ready for a change of routine. “If you don’t mind … I’d really like to go with you.”
Zoo, starting the car, glanced at his brother. “This is not a field trip.”
“I know. And I’m very well coached that you do not suffer non-professionals gladly. I know all that. And I won’t get in anybody’s way. But I’d like to go with you. I just may have something to contribute … and I’m not playing Father Koesler.”
Zoo said nothing as he drove toward St. Joe’s. Suddenly, he veered away from the parish and headed out Jefferson. “Okay. But stay right where I tell you. Why do you want to come on this run, anyhow?”
“That award party I was at the other night: I met the full cast of characters who run this bank. I met the new manager, Al Ulrich. Mr. Adams asked me to give him my impression of Ulrich and Nancy Groggins as to which would make the better manager for the new branch.
“As a matter of fact, before I had a chance to meet either contestant, Adams confided that he favored Nancy. And, after meeting both of them, I agreed with Adams and I told him as much before leaving.
“That’s why I was so surprised when Adams announced that he had selected Ulrich for the job.
“Now Ulrich is dead.
“I just have a very strong feeling that I should be there. I can’t tell you why. The whole idea is new to me. It’s almost like Providence wants it that way.”
“Okay,” Zoo said. “But just stay put and observe.”
Ten
As they approached the crime scene, Father Tully surveyed the territory. It was a mixed bag.
The housing ran from neatly kept bungalows to empty flats with out panes or doors. Once, years ago, this had undoubtedly been a working, middle-class neighborhood. One whose front porches had held gliders. In spring, summer, and fall, neighbors had gathered to talk, to listen, to learn, and to live. Neighbors who had never heard of the phrase “drive-by shooting.”
But that was a time whose return no one could hope to anticipate.
Tully’s car, flasher blinking, pulled up to the new bank building.
“What’s happened to this neighborhood?” Father Tully asked. Yesterday’s tour had featured nothing like this.
“Gangs. Drugs and might make right.”
An extensive area was cordoned off by bright yellow ribbon signifying a crime scene. All unauthorized people were to observe the restriction and stay out.
“Remember: you’re a spectator.”
Father Tully followed Zoo, stepping over the tape.
