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.Have you been cutting back on that? It’s Church money, and what have you been doing with it? Paying Ransom’s blackmail and buying Christmas gifts for the kids.That money isn’t to help pay for your home for abused and abandoned boys!”They briefly turned away from each other, as boxers do when they return to their respective corners after a round.“I see, Sister,” said Phineas.“And where do you suggest I get the money from? The diocese gives us hardly enough to get by.”Sister Ignatius opened her mouth wide as if she were going to respond, but Father Poole beat her to it.“I’m not saying I don’t love Jessica,” he said.“I adore her and wouldn’t want to lose her.But what I’m saying, Sister, is that we are now breaking the law on many counts.We’re keeping three children who should now be wards of the state.We’re paying a bribe or blackmail, depending on how you look at it.So if you’ve got a better idea about how we should spend the parish’s money and still keep our head above water, then I’m all ears.”He was so close to her face that he could smell her perfume, which she applied only because she hated the smell of the pillows and bedroom in Ben Benson’s house.She had always said how they smelled like mothballs.Ironically she loved the aroma of turpentine, paint, and glue but hated that of camphor.The two kept their eyes locked on one another, both beginning to breathe heavily.Father Poole couldn’t detect any trace of glue on Sister Ignatius’s person, and it showed in her comportment.When under chemical influence she always seemed patronizing, yet now, clutching a copy of Sonnets of the Portuguese, she was balanced and appealing.Phineas liked her best when she was sober and clear-thinking.That is to say, he liked her just the way she was.He tilted his head a little to his right, and she arched her neck back, her face expressing both surprise and anticipation.She clenched her fists tightly, her sharp nails digging crescent moons into the word Portuguese as the priest drew his mouth closer to hers.He closed his eyes, as did she.Before either one knew it, their lips met.Finally, she gave in first, bringing her hand to the back of his head and pressing his lips harder into hers.He, in turn, pulled her body close until her chest merged with his.Then, as if they had planned it, the two simultaneously withdrew their lips, released each other, and pushed away.Their eyes locked on one another, and neither was able to speak.Father Poole said the first thing that came to mind.“I’m a virgin,” he blurted out, embarrassed, as if talking to a woman who was married with eight children.Phineas sank into a brief, yet utterly catatonic state and recoiled in shame.He truly lost his ability to verbalize a single word.Her previously clandestine femininity had finally reached out to Phineas and latched onto him with unyielding claws.When he was once again able to think clearly, he twisted his torso around, and she was right behind him.This time their noses touched.Again she grabbed him by the back of the head and pressed her warm lips against his.For several seconds the two just stood there, fondling one another.He pulled his head away briefly so that he could undo her blouse.She meanwhile removed his white collar and pulled off his glasses, throwing both over the desk and onto his chair, while he pulled off her blouse and reached back to unclasp her bra.The rectory was quiet except for Argyle Hobbs’s occasional slamming of the front door and Mrs.Keats’s walloping of pots and pans.Jonas was watching Jessica in the Benson house, which was where Sister Ignatius had left the two of them.Everyone was busy doing something, even Zachary.There were flurries in the wind, and the forecast predicted snow.This would be the season’s first snowstorm in southern New Hampshire, which for the region was long overdue.People in town attributed this winter’s late start to the past summer’s having extended into October.Those who’d said that a longer summer would mean a “doozie” of a winter were hoping for a blizzard, just for the sake of being able to say they’d been right all along.Before the snow was due to hit, Argyle was busy with grounds work when suddenly he could be heard shouting, “GODDAMN IT! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT! SON OF A BITCH!”Father Poole and Sister Ignatius immediately leaped up from the sofa in his office.The two dressed feverishly.Father Poole rounded the desk and felt around the floor for his glasses and collar.As they went to leave the office together, Phineas pushed her back inside and said, “No! Let me go first.Wait a bit before you come out.” He then kissed her on the mouth.When Father Poole entered the hallway, Argyle Hobbs was standing in the center of the foyer and shaking his head back and forth.“GONE! GONE! GONE! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!” he shouted.“What’s gone, Argyle?” said Father Poole.“MY GODDAMN TOOLS! EVERY LAST MOTHERFUCKIN’ ONE OF ’EM!” he exclaimed.“Someone got into my tool closet out back.When I came over to get me a hammer to fix the stable roof on that there nativity scene, my entire box o’ tools was gone!”Just then Sister Ignatius emerged with her headdress on backwards and strands of hair sticking out from beneath it.Taking advantage of the fact that Argyle Hobbs had his back to her, she tiptoed over to the dining-room entrance and stepped on a creaky plank in the floor.Hearing the noise, Argyle turned and saw her.She immediately walked forward, trying to make it appear that she was coming from the kitchen.“Now what’s all this fuss about, Argyle?” she said, acting as cool as could be.Argyle quickly noticed the messy way she’d put on her headdress but dismissed it as trivial compared to the problem at hand.“What’s all the hullabaloo?” she added.“Argyle’s tools have gone missing,” Father Poole responded amiably to her.“He’d forgotten to lock the tool closet out back and….”“I TELL YA SOME FUCKER STOLE ’EM!” burst out the groundskeeper.“I AIN’T NEVER FORGOT TO LOCK ANYTHIN’.THAT DOOR WASN’T JIMMIED OR BROKE.THAT FUCKER HAD HISSELF A KEY!” Limping over to the front door, he opened it and pointed down at “The Path to Salvation.” “See there? The snow’s sta’tin’ to fall real good.There’ll be footprints down that there path.I ain’t gonna rest till I get that son of a bitch in my hands and thrash his little hide!”“Now, now, Argyle,” Father Poole began.“No need to get hostile.Remember that people who steal do so not because they’re evil but because they have more pressing needs than those from whom they take.”“Father,” replied Argyle Hobbs as he started out the door.“that thief ain’t gettin’ away with this, no-how! I’ll find him.And when I do, I’ll be gettin’ the law on his thievin’ ass.That is, after I hang him up by the balls!”As he hobbled down the steps with a look of determination on his face, Sister Ignatius ran up to Father Poole, who was now standing at the front door
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