Father, It's Not What You Think!

PART ONE: IN THE RECTOR'S OFFICE (1974)

The first thing Roberto noticed was the silence. It wasn't the peaceful kind. It waited. It judged.

Only after stepping inside did he dare look up.

The Rector's office at Holy Cross Academy seemed built to make boys feel small. Sunlight poured through the tall windows, yet it did nothing to soften the room. Dark mahogany furniture loomed against the walls. At the center, the massive desk felt less like furniture and more like a tribunal bench.

Father Felipe stood to one side, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

Roberto remained just inside the doorway. His chest tightened. Each breath felt shallow. His shoes made faint, involuntary clicks against the polished floor.

Then Rector Alfonso broke the silence. "Roberto. Do you have any explanation for what we've been told? That today—once again—you disgraced yourself in the back of the classroom? That you were showing your classmates a lewd magazine from the United States? Tell me—is this true?"

Roberto swallowed, his throat dry. "Father Rector, respectfully, I didn't bring it. I had no intention of causing—"

"Do not evade the question," Father Felipe cut in. "The magazine was in your hands, and several students were witnesses. Confess: you were the one who showed it to them."

"Father... yes, the magazine was with me," Roberto stammered, his fingers tightening at his sides. "But it wasn't mine. And if anyone looked inside, we only gave it a quick glance. Just skimmed it a little."

"'Just skimmed it a little'... and it wasn't yours, you say?" Father Felipe stepped forward slightly. "Do not insult our intelligence, Roberto. I examined the magazine myself. It's a Playboy. Brand new. From this year. Such an issue could not have been bought in Chile. It must have come from abroad."

He let the words settle. "And who has just returned from the United States?"

No one spoke.

Roberto froze, looking down.

Rector Alfonso leaned forward. "Answer him! Who brought it? Who had the audacity to smuggle filth of this kind into this sacred institution?"

"I... I don't know," Roberto whispered. "Maybe someone else—"

"Do not lie to us, boy!" Father Felipe slammed the desk with a sharp bang.

"Your deceit only worsens your shame. This was no accident. You carried this magazine into Chile. You put it into the hands of your classmates. You polluted their minds with images that defile decency and mock the dignity of women, of family, of God Himself!"

Rector Alfonso's face reddened. "First you bring evolutionary theories, spitting on the teachings of Holy Mother Church. And now this? Nude women, obscene poses, filth that tears down the very foundation of morality! What will you bring next, Roberto? Drugs? Weapons? You've taken it upon yourself to be an agent of corruption in this school!"

Roberto shook his head quickly. "No, Father Rector, please... I didn't mean any harm, I swear—"

"Didn't mean harm?" Alfonso snapped. "You parade smut before impressionable boys! You undermine the trust of the distinguished families who entrust us with their sons! You think this is amusement? You think corrupting others is fun?"

Father Felipe's gaze remained piercing and unwavering. "Your classmates will never forget what you showed them. You opened the gates of corruption. Even if you claim innocence, you planted poison in their minds. The sin will follow them. That is your legacy."