Skeletons in the Rain

CHAPTER 37 | EARLIER TODAY

"Are we ready?" asked the man who had opened the door earlier. His fingers glittered with rings, his face hidden under a gray skull mask.

"Almost," replied the deacon. "Bishop, listen. It's time for your Sacrament of Penance. Tell us about Anibal."

"Help me," López begged him. "Julian, what happened to your face?"

The deacon's forehead and cheeks were red and swollen, oozing with blood, plasma, and something black.

"Stay focused. You once told me about your cousin's desecrated tomb, remember?" Julian reminded him.

"Your beautiful face is ruined."

"Hey! Tell us about your cousin!"

"Why are you doing this?" the bishop cried.

"I made a promise to Marcelino."

"Who is that?"

"The clock is ticking faster." Gray Skull pointed at his wrist as if he was wearing a watch.

"You never found out what happened to Anibal's body, right?" Julian continued. "We have it."

"It's in a dark place," murmured Gray Skull as if sharing a naughty secret with a friend.

"Don't understand," López said.

"The king wants you to repent before you die," the deacon explained. "To accept the truth."

"No. Please, don't kill me."

"Look at your new neighborhood," said Gray Skull. "You're already dead."

The bishop turned to the deacon.

"I love you, Julian, and I know you love me."

Gray Skull burst into laughter.

Without letting the masked man's cackles affect his tone, the deacon replied to the Bishop calmly: "Silly old man. If you tell people to cover the sun with one finger, no matter how hard they try, they will always squint at its brightness. There's no hiding it. But, if you convince them to use that same finger to gouge their eyes out, then the sun is no more. There is no more powerful lie than the one you want to believe."

"It can't be," López stuttered. Despite the numbness interfering with his senses, he still felt his heart breaking in his chest beyond repair. If he could have bent over to breathe better, he would have done it. Each word he spoke was accompanied by a breathless, painful sound. "Everything you told me—"

"An act!" Gray Skull interrupted him. "Can we hurry, please? We've found the priest, and you won't believe where he is."

"That kind of love," López said, his voice made tremulous by tears. "You cannot fake it."

Gray Skull laughed again. "You're joking, right?"

"No." The bishop's shallow breathing quickened. "The priest in Caracas, the letters of recommendation, the screening process..."

"Our king is talented at forging documents and Photoshop," Julian explained. "He made it seem like I'd been living abroad for years."

"Impossible. You can't fool the Church."

"This guy is cracking me up," said Gray Skull.

"Please, Julian. Tell him to stop."

"Focus. Did you—"

"Help me. I beg you!"

Julian raised his voice to silence the bishop's pleas. "Did you know what your cousin did to Marcelo?"

"I love you! We have something special."

"This won't work," Gray Skull said to the deacon. "Give me a hand."

As Julian and his masked companion pushed the casket outside, the bishop's begging became a sad litany silenced by the sound of the rain pouring down on them.

"Confess!" Julian told López once they lowered the coffin in the ground.

"You'll regret this," the bishop said, letting his heartbreak take him to the darkest corner of his soul—the place where love turns sour, and happiness rots into resentment. "The Church is a powerful enemy."

"The Mime King has revoked the visa of your God," said the deacon. "He's no longer welcomed in Venezuela."

"What are you doing?" asked the bishop once they were about to use their shovel to close the casket lid. "You need me, Julian!"

"An eye for an eye..." said Gray Skull.

"A body for a body," said Julian.

"I don't deserve to die," López cried, looking up at Anibal's tombstone above him.

"Pathetic." Gray Skull shook his head. "Should have found a religion that brings you comfort in your last hours."

"Tell us about Anibal," insisted Julian.

"I had nothing to do with that. I swear."

"Liar," said Gray Skull.

"I asked him to stop!" the bishop shouted.

"Like he asked you to stop when you raped him as a boy?"

The bishop's eyes widened with astonishment.

"I never molested him."

"Molested?" Gray Skull scoffed. "A little late to sanitize what happened, Father."

"If you'd kept it in your pants," Julian added. "Maybe Anibal wouldn't have grown up to be a monster."

"I raped no one. We just fooled around."

"Is that why you gave him money every month?" Gray Skull asked him. "Is that why you turned a blind eye to what he was doing to Marcelo?"

"No, please. Forgive me."

"To forgive is divine..." said the deacon, putting on a white skull mask. "But we are only human."

The bishop's last words were muffled once the Skulls closed the casket lid for good, and then his screams became but a murmur that grew fainter after they shoveled dirt over it.