“Listen!
Will she be all right?
I’m getting out of here!”
He climbed unsteadily to his feet.
“I don’t know, son.
Infection’s the real threat, and shock.
If we’d got to her sooner, she’d have been safer.
And if she was in the ultimate stage of neuroderm, it would help.”
“Why?”
“Oh, various reasons.
You’ll learn, someday.
But listen, you look exhausted.
Why don’t you come back to the hospital with us?
The third floor is entirely vacant.
There’s no danger of infection up there, and we keep a sterile room ready just in case we get a nonhyper case.
You can lock the door inside, if you want to, but it wouldn’t be necessary.
Nuns are on the floor below.
Our male staff lives in the basement.
There aren’t any laymen in the building.
I’ll guarantee that you won’t be bothered.”
“No, I’ve got to go,” he growled, then softened his voice: “I appreciate it though, Father.”
“Whatever you wish.
I’m sorry, though.
You might be able to provide yourself with some kind of transportation if you waited.”
“Uh-uh!
I don’t mind telling you, your island makes me jumpy.”
“Why?”
Paul glanced at the priest’s gray hands.
“Well… you still feel the craving, don’t you?”
Mendelhaus touched his nose.
“Cotton plugs, with a little camphor.
I can’t smell you.”
He hesitated.
“No, I won’t lie to you.
The urge to touch is still there to some extent.”
“And in a moment of weakness, somebody might—”
The priest straightened his shoulders.
His eyes went chilly.
“I have taken certain vows, young man.
Sometimes when I see a beautiful woman, I feel desire.
When I see a man eating a thick steak on a fast-day, I feel envy and hunger.
When I see a doctor earning large fees, I chafe under the vow of poverty.
But by denying desire’s demands, one learns to make desire useful in other ways.
Sublimation, some call it. A priest can use it and do more useful work thereby. I am a priest.”
He nodded curtly, turned on his heel and strode away.
Halfway to the cottage, he paused.
“She’s calling for someone named Paul.
Know who it might be?
Family perhaps?”
Paul stood speechless.