Both his listeners nodded.
“First off, we go through a standard series of instructions in Catholic beliefs and practices.”
“How long will that take?” Frank asked.
“Depends. Three or four months, usually-at one appointment a week.”
“Can we go at it more often than once a week?”
“If you want to.” Koesler could understand Frank’s wanting to speed up the process. The sooner the instructions were completed, the sooner they could go on to the next step.
But the priest would have to be careful lest the instructions become merely pro forma. “You must understand,” Koesler cautioned, “that at the end of this process-if we get there-you will be baptized. So it’d be a good idea to understand what you are being baptized into. That’s the purpose for the instructions.”
“Right. That makes sense. Then what?”
“Then we prepare the documentation. There are questionnaires for you both. Then-and you can begin putting this together right away-we identify the witnesses and supply accurate addresses and phone numbers. It won’t do to eliminate a very good witness because of an inaccurate number. Oh, and while you’re compiling the list: It’s a good idea not to contact any of them; otherwise the priest interviewer may suspect some coaching.”
“Who picks out the priests who do the interviews?” Frank was intent on taking no chances.
“Depends on where the witness lives. Generally, the local tribunal contacts a priest in the parish nearest to the witness. That priest becomes a notary assigned to take testimony by filling out a questionnaire with the witness’s answers. I’ve already done it a few times in the short while I’ve been a priest. But I’m getting ahead of myself …
“Now, here’s something unpleasant … but we can get around it: They want you to pay the cost of this procedure. A case like this has to go to Rome for a decision. That involves translating the documents into Latin and hiring a Roman lawyer to present your case. Right off the bat they want three hundred and fifty dollars-with a promise that you’ll also pay any additional cost. But,” Koesler hastened to add, “all I need do is make a notation in forma pauperum. Which simply means that you cannot afford this much.”
Frank chuckled as he looked at Martha. “Well, Marty, I guess there goes the new stove and refrigerator.”
“Frank,” Koesler protested, “you don’t have to do this. We won’t be begging; we’re simply stating that you can’t afford this big a financial commitment.”
“Father, I pay my way. Always have. Is that the whole package?”
Koesler hesitated. He knew what final demand would be required. So far, in his young priestly life, he had never had to ask anyone to make such a promise. But, in all candor, he had to clue them into the entire picture. “There’s one final promise required of you. And that … it’s that for however long this case takes to be processed, you and Martha will live as brother and sister.”
The atmosphere in Father Koesler’s small office became leaden.
Martha reached out and took Frank’s hand. “I’m afraid, Father,” she said firmly, “that’s too much. Too much by far.”
She stood up. “I’m sorry we put you to all this trouble, Father. You’ve been very kind-and for that we’re grateful. But”-she shook her head-”that’s just too much. How could the Church …” She reached for her handkerchief and wiped back tears. “Come on, Frankie, let’s-”
“Now, hold on, Marty …” Frank patted her hand. “We gotta remember the stakes in this whole thing. We’re playing for a big jackpot. Think of all the years we’ve wanted to be at peace with the Church. I’ve wanted it almost as much as you do-because you want it so much. I say let’s give ’er a crack. At least we can trust the salesman …” He smiled at Koesler, then at Martha. “I like this young man. And I say, Let’s give it a try.”
“Are you sure, Frankie? Are you sure it means this much to you?”
“Aye.” He smiled reassuringly at her again. “I am.”
He turned back to the priest. “When’s our first instruction, Father?”
Koesler checked his desk log. “We’re closing out this week. How about Monday … Monday evening at, say, nine?”
“Nine it is then,” Frank affirmed. As he and Martha stood up, he put his arm around her waist. “Come on, Marty. Be of good cheer. We haven’t even begun the process. We can do it. We will do it.”
Koesler saw the couple to the door and bade them farewell.
As he prepared for bed, he. could not help but think over this evening’s final appointment. A young priest, he had just begun a vocation that ruled out marriage. And with that, given the virtue of chastity, his life would be asexual. Some of his seniors assured him that in time it would be easier to live without a woman.
So far he was so enraptured with the newness and thrill of being a priest that he hadn’t really given much reflection to the celibate life.
Thus he could not fully measure how life would change for Frank and Martha after the instructions were completed and the process toward dissolution had begun.
The sacrifice was painfully clear to Frank and Martha. But they would give their word. And that, to them, was binding.
9
Based on a two-per-week schedule, the instructions moved right along.
Koesler’s concern that this phase of the procedure might be a sham clearly was misplaced. Frank took an active interest in the books Koesler recommended. Nor did Koesler have any opportunity to lecture: Frank did almost as much talking as listening. Indeed, many of Frank’s questions taxed mightily those supportive books on Koesler’s shelves.
The instructions were completed just after Christmas.
It had been a wonderfully spiritual season for everyone. It was Koesler’s first Christmas as a priest. Though utterly exhausted from hearing countless confessions, he was exhilarated by the unique liturgy of the Nativity as well as by the seasonal goodwill of a depth and spirit to capture the heart even of Scrooge.
It was a grand time also for the Morrises. They had taken to attending Mass at St. William’s. Since they were not recognized as parishioners at Nativity parish, they felt at ease and were welcomed by Father Koesler at St. William’s.
Instructions complete, it was time to enter phases two and three. The first of these was to properly and carefully prepare the petition. Koesler conferred frequently with his Canon Law professor to make certain that everything was being done “by the book” and that no bases were left untouched.
The second part-or phase three-was initiated. Money was sent with the petition. And the Morrises began their new “brother and sister” relationship. It was a time of expectation, hope, and prayer.
Except that the time became endless.
Months passed and no word. No word at all. Sometimes it was difficult for Koesler and the Morrises to remember what life had been before this grand adventure.
More months.
Occasionally and apologetically, one or the other Morris would stop by after Mass or perhaps phone, just to make sure no notification had come in. Invariably Father Koesler would assure them that nothing had happened. He would also assure them that just as soon as any word was received, he would let them know immediately.
After two and a half years, the lives of the Morrises had stretched so taut that Frank and Martha almost began to wish word would never come. As long as they no longer wondered and worried at the start of each day whether they would ever hear from the Curia in Rome, things would be better. The decision-granted or denied- seemed increasingly unreal. The mere act of waiting became the only reality.
Then the call came.
Father Koesler visited them in the evening, having earlier phoned to make sure they would both be in.
Martha was certain from the tone of Father’s voice that their waiting was over and, also from his voice, that the petition had been denied.
Frank did not want to speculate on either possibility.
