{"id":183,"date":"2011-05-19T09:55:07","date_gmt":"2011-05-19T09:55:07","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/?page_id=183"},"modified":"2011-09-24T09:58:29","modified_gmt":"2011-09-24T09:58:29","slug":"claudia-del-balso","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/writings\/fiction\/claudia-del-balso\/","title":{"rendered":"Claudia Del Balso"},"content":{"rendered":"

Somebody\u2019s Gotta Have Faith<\/strong><\/strong><\/h1>\n
Claudia Del Balso<\/h6>\n

<\/strong>I should feel guilty, but I am not! <\/em>I think. Damn it, I\u2019m not even a Believer! <\/em>These thoughts had better not haunt me, not now, not ever! I\u2019m about to become Mrs. Jacob Rowan and it\u2019s all that matters. I see Mom\u2019s face in the mirror; I can see her trembling smile and dewy eyes as she fixes up my veil. I\u2019ve been waiting for this day since I met Jacob.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh, Grace you look beautiful!\u201d Mom tells me.<\/p>\n

I turn to face her and say, \u201cI love you, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

Father Michael, Jacob\u2019s uncle, comes into to the sacristy where my mom and I await the toll of the bells announcing my arrival. Last night at rehearsal, Donna, Jacob\u2019s mother, had asked me to wait here. She said she wanted to give me her blessing before I entered the church. I don\u2019t know if those words come from one of the \u2018Trinity of her Divine Personality\u2019: the Mother, the Psychologist, or the Roman Catholic.<\/p>\n

Michael greets me in a friendly, yet dry tone, \u201cHello Grace.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHi Father,\u201d I say.<\/p>\n

Our stares form a triangle as we look at each other. Mom doesn\u2019t say anything. Michael\u2019s presence is as uncomfortable as wearing pantyhose in summertime. It\u2019s obvious none of us have anything else to add. This silence is more frightening than the thought of going to \u2018Hell\u2019 \u2014that\u2019s if there is one!\u2014for straying one of God\u2019s lambs, for straying Jacob from his calling. But if it\u2019s true what they say about God being merciful, then shouldn\u2019t He forgive me?<\/p>\n

Jacob and I met through my sister in university. They were taking Philosophy together. I was a senior and looking into programs for my Master\u2019s. A few of my friends went away to university in Toronto and Ottawa. But I don\u2019t regret my decision of going to school close to home. If I had gone away, I would never have met Jacob.<\/p>\n

The moment I met him, I knew there was something special about him. I felt like I had found my six, my perfect number: half the sum of his entire positive characteristics, including myself. \u00a0The mathematician in me couldn\u2019t be wrong about him.<\/p>\n

After my sister introduced us, Jacob and I went for coffee. Our conversation was as fluid as the St. Lawrence waters. We talked about movies, hobbies, traveling, food, and all those banal topics common among young adults.<\/p>\n

\u201cSo what\u2019s your major?\u201d Jacob asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cMathematics,\u201d I said, averting my eyes to the people outside crossing the street. \u201cI know it doesn\u2019t sound as cool as\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

Jacob interrupted and said, \u201cIt sounds cooler than Theology.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d I stammered.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m transferring to The Montreal School of Theology next semester.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou mean\u2026\u201d my thoughts were a yarn ball and I don\u2019t even knit!<\/p>\n

\u201cI want to be a priest.\u201d<\/p>\n

My tongue was tied. How could this strong tall epitome of masculinity be thinking of wearing robes? Did I hear him correctly? But why did I even care? I had just met the guy! My heart had also become a mathematician at that moment and had calculated the result of us as a couple but\u2026 Wait! Three is a prime number\u2026exactly two factors: one and itself. I left God out of this equation!<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t get it,\u201d was all I managed to say.<\/p>\n

\u201cThis is the reaction I usually get,\u201d he said, smiling.<\/p>\n

Jacob walked me to my Business Calculus class. He told me that God had called him since he was in high school. Jacob\u2019s eyes widened as he shared his ideas with me about how to help the underprivileged communities in Montreal. And, his desire to open up schools in remote areas in South America was as foreign to me as the indigenous people he mentioned.<\/p>\n

\u201cIs your mom cool with that?\u201d I asked, more incredulous than certain.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy not?\u201d He said, looking me in the eyes. \u201cI\u2019m not the first one in the family who\u2019s joined the priesthood.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat about making money?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor what? When I die I won\u2019t be able to bargain my way into Heaven,\u201d he said in a solemn tone.<\/p>\n

His answers sounded like two plus two is five.<\/em> Most guys our age only talk about iPods, MP3 players, video games, hockey, and their latest \u2018personal\u2019 scores. I\u2019d never met anyone like him. He was a newly discovered species.<\/p>\n

My thoughts, an invisible cobweb, were swept when Jacob said, \u201cAre you religious?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m a hybrid,\u201d I replied. \u201cMy mom is Catholic but my dad is an atheist.\u201dAlthough I had been called \u2018genius\u2019 among family members, \u2018heathen\u2019 was not a label I wanted to earn with Jacob. I waited for some sort of reaction from him. He just looked at me.<\/p>\n

\u201cI was baptized. I guess that counts, right?\u201d I said, trying to be facetious but in my head, it sounded more like a sarcastic remark. Dammit! My analytical side always gets the best of me.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat I mean is, I am not a practicing Catholic but sometimes I wish I believed in someone or something.\u201d<\/p>\n

As I stand here now in the sacristy, in my wedding dress, I think that I made the right choice and so did Jacob. He had plenty of time to change his mind but lucky for me, he didn\u2019t. We started seeing each other regularly a few months after we had met. Once, he took me on a personal tour of Montreal churches.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know, these churches wouldn\u2019t be here if it weren\u2019t for mathematicians,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

\u201cOh?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMath is vital to the understanding of structural concepts and calculations.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd those mathematicians and architects created a beautiful harmony with the universe,\u201d he said, pointing up.<\/p>\n

When we entered the building, I was surprised to see how simple it was inside. The exterior and the interior were an incongruous mixture of architectural styles. I appreciated its simplicity, however. It\u2019s one of Jacob\u2019s favorite places. For a fleeting second, I understood Jacob\u2019s desire to spend time here with a \u2018God\u2019 I\u2019ve only known through Einstein.<\/p>\n

Staring at the altar, I said, \u201cDid you know that Albert Einstein once said that he wanted to know God\u2019s thoughts because the rest is only details?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, I didn\u2019t know that,\u201d he said as he sat in a pew in front of the altar. He patted the seat, inviting me to sit next to him.<\/p>\n

We were the only ones there and, the overwhelming silence unnerved me. Someone once said that a moment of silence is not inherently religious, but for me it felt that way. I didn\u2019t know what to do so I got closer to him, so close I could feel his apprehension. I took his hand and looked at him but his eyes didn\u2019t meet mine. I started caressing his arm. He didn\u2019t move. I moved my hand up to his face. I could feel the prickles under my palm.<\/p>\n

\u201cGrace, don\u2019t\u2026\u201d he pleaded.<\/p>\n

And just like that, in front of the altar, I turned his face toward me and gave him a passionate kiss. At first, he pushed me away but that only made me feverish. The smell of his skin was a hallucinogen impairing my thoughts. I inserted my hand in his pants and rubbed his manhood. He jerked like a frightened rabbit. The blue of his iris drowned in his pupils. I wondered whether the dim lights inside the church or my roving hand was at fault. I felt his organ swell in my hand. He is a man after all. That\u2019s when he pulled me: his hands traveled up and down my back, his lips swallowed mine, and his breath was arrhythmic. Who would have thought that such a spiritual tour would have turned into \u2018the temptation of the flesh\u2019?<\/p>\n

After our first steamy, sinful rendez-vous, I didn\u2019t hear from Jacob. I didn\u2019t want to lose him. No! I hadn\u2019t calculated this outcome. I called him but I always got his answering machine. My e-mails went unanswered for several weeks. When I sought Father Michael, as my last resort, he told me it was best to leave Jacob alone. If I didn\u2019t, my soul would pay on Judgment Day. It seemed to me Jacob was already doing all the judgment. I was in Limbo<\/em>! I didn\u2019t need the Bible or The<\/em> Divine Comedy<\/em> to tell me I was standing between Heaven and Hell. For me, I had definitely stepped into Hell\u2019s threshold.<\/p>\n

Finally I got a text message: \u201cWe gotta meet.\u201d<\/em><\/p>\n

My stomach turned. Those three words were more difficult to decipher than Nonlinear Systems of Two Ordinary Differential Equations. We went to the caf\u00e9 where we\u2019d first met.<\/p>\n

\u201cI want you to come over for Christmas,\u201d he said, looking me in the eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

He pressed his index finger against my lips, \u201cShhh.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAre you coming?\u201d<\/p>\n

The first Christmas we\u2019d spent as a couple, he confessed to me he didn\u2019t want to go on with his Theology Major. That night in bed, I played in my head over and over what he\u2019d said to me.<\/p>\n

\u201cGracie, I love you so much\u2026I can\u2019t transfer\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

I knew what he was about to say so I interrupted him, \u201cWhat about the priesthood?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI can still do our Lord\u2019s work and be with you\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI know, but what about His love?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI love God above all, that won\u2019t change\u2026I\u2019m just adding you to the equation,\u201d he smiled. Those were the most sacred words he\u2019s ever said to me.<\/p>\n

As a mathematician, I know numbers have accurate results. But what about Jacob? As a believer, did he get a divine message? Did he have a covenant with his<\/em> God? I hear the toll of the bells now. They are calling Jacob to his new life. I wonder if God is calling me through them, too. I never lost faith <\/em>that Jacob would be my perfect number. Well, somebody\u2019s gotta have faith!<\/p>\n

\u201cI hope you are ready for this<\/em>,\u201d Father Michael says.<\/p>\n

I take a deep breath and say, \u201cI am!\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Somebody\u2019s Gotta Have Faith Claudia Del Balso I should feel guilty, but I am not! I think. Damn it, I\u2019m not even a Believer! These thoughts had better not haunt me, not now, not ever! I\u2019m about to become Mrs. Jacob Rowan and it\u2019s all that matters. I see Mom\u2019s face in the mirror; I […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"parent":96,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","template":"authorpage.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-183","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/183","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=183"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/183\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":680,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/183\/revisions\/680"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/96"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.mtls.ca\/issue10\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=183"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}