Scandal ... A Case of Seduction and Denial
―Moliere
There’s an undeniable axiom in life: the older we get, the greater the number of secrets we conceal.
In a two thousand year old institution like the Catholic Church, there are so many skeletons in closets, the secrets outweigh the revelations.
What if all those doors were thrown open—would the groan going up to heaven be greater than we could bear?
I’ll never know, but…it’s a dream of mine that all these dark secrets be revealed.
As I say, it's just a dream but they tell solemn secrets of ourselves.
But do they touch us deeply? Or is it a fact, our greatest secrets are the ones we carefully conceal from ourselves?
“I need to rely on your discretion, Martin.”
“Of course, Excellency.”
Cardinal Erigeron is an older, cautious man—a prince among prelates.
And I’m also a cautious man—a lay psychiatrist with vestiges of belief, albeit in tatters from a liberal education—but I soldier on, with banner still bravely flying.
It’s a juggling act, and I’m not always successful—but I try.
“If this gets out, there will be a scandal,” the Cardinal frowns.
“As there have been many scandals, many times before, Eminence.”
The reminder does nothing to reassure him. My words are weak and images of headlines pass before his eyes, making them smart, as if from smoke...
Unholy smoke.
As for the cardinal, he smells of incense and ethereal realms—he’s wearing a simple black cassock without a coloured trim.
He’s an unpretentious, but careful man.
“It’s still possible there’s some other explanation—she’s a Mother Superior.”
I nod, but quietly dissent. “She’s fluently talking backwards in Latin—in anagrams, no less. It’s not a difficult discernment, My Lord—it’s common sense. She’s demonized.”
“How can such things come to be and overpower us against our will?”
“These are deep waters, Excellency—not somewhere I like to swim.”
“But you can assist her, Martin?”
“I’ve had some success in the past.”
“It’s disturbing,” the older man sighs. “She was trying so hard to press into God.”
“Or, drown herself in the Church—until she discovered the warm body of a woman.”
“That’s a blasphemous thing to say, Martin—such evil shouldn’t be talked about.”
“But she seduced a novice, Excellency. Would truth have it hid?”
“Propriety might—or discretion.”
I shook my head. “Being cloistered does not grant immunity, Excellency.”
He took a deep breath as if preparing his lungs to submerge.
“Very well, conduct yourself, however seems fit—but please, Martin—do try to be discreet.”
Mother Violet was a captivating woman. It was hard to believe the tribunal’s reports.
“I will be dismissed, I suppose.”
She looked out through leaded glass windows, staring at the gray leafless woods beyond.
Dismissed sounded stark, but more seemly than defrocked. At the thought of the word, an image emerged, and I felt the heat of passion well up within me.
If there was ever any doubt in my mind that this was not a sexual demonization, it was quickly quashed.
One moment she had the regal bearing of a queen, the next the irresistible lure of a temptress.
My eyes wanted to stray to her lithe figure beneath her habit.
The Cardinal was right—it was blasphemous—and therefore, compulsively alluring.
I forced myself to focus on her flawless face. She was totally without makeup and yet her eyes were darkly seductive... her lips barely moistened by her tongue—and yet I wanted to plunder them.
I stood and walked to the window—I was trembling.
This was a mistake to be alone with her.
“I will be back tomorrow—with colleagues and we must talk.”
“You’re not leaving me, are you?” Her eyes were huge and innocent, lustrous with glycerin tears.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said firmly and forced myself to walk out of the room.
I couldn’t imagine the hapless novice spending any length of time with this seductress.
I wasn't looking at stench and corruption, but the beautiful face of evil.
“She needs deliverance, Your Grace. I don’t trust myself to be alone with her—let alone to submit myself to being in her presence again.”
The Cardinal nodded sagely.
“The ancients knew of this—they called such women Sirens. Aeneas had to have his men tie him to the mast of his ship as they sailed past them—even still, he was sorely tempted.”
“Sex is a temptation of the flesh—but to have it demonically energized—is overwhelming.”
The Cardinal shook his head in disbelief and wonderment.
I shuddered to think of the challenge facing the exorcism team.
Six months passed before I was again sitting again at tea in the Cardinal’s office—this time attending to another matter.
Cardinal Erigeron is a gracious man, and our business over, he insisted I stay and chat and enjoy the warmth of his lovely fireplace.
It was October, a cold and rainy day and the Birches outside his window were trembling in the rain. The yellow fright of trees, Pasternak said.
The warmth of the fire and the fragrance of creamed Earl Grey tea were hypnotic.
“I’m surprised you haven’t enquired about Mother Violet,” the Cardinal said suddenly.
I looked at him, shocked that he'd broach the topic.
“No, I haven’t Your Grace, although I must admit I am curious as to her fate.”
“She left—we would have allowed her to stay. Her exorcism was a success—she and Sister Sevigne were delivered and freed of all demonic interference.”
“Then, I don’t understand.”
“They both left, Martin. They are together now at Madame Anais’, downtown in the gallery district.”
I was perplexed. “I’m sorry, Excellency, I don’t understand.”
“They are working in a high class brothel, Martin. Sevigne is exploring some secret terrain of her own choosing, with Violet as her guide.”
I watched the fire softly flutter in the grate. I was mesmerized by the white bones of the fire—the hard angles reminiscent of the high cheekbones of Violet’s lovely face.
“She was ruined,” I said at last.
“Yes, she was,” he agreed. “The Tempter has undone so many.”
Afterwards, I walked back to my car in the rain. I was no longer sure I wanted all such dark secrets revealed.
I thought back to that sudden passion, the wave of heat rising from my loins when I beheld Violet’s beautiful face.
I couldn’t imagine her in a brothel—with Sevigne—the two out to play in the mud.
I must be honest—she’s been haunting my dreams—the ones that tell solemn secrets about me.
But the greatest secret is the one I’ve almost hidden from myself—
She’s entranced me and I must find her.
Thank you!