Chapter - 18

Yesterday it was not too late to discuss everything, try to explain to the parishioners, but now all hopes have sunk into oblivion. Robert understood that he was angry with himself. There was nothing to take on an unbearable burden, the load that he could not carry. Victor, who has always been a devoted and faithful parishioner, who prayed and knew the Gospel by heart, now seems to have gone mad.

Anyway, if the burden really turned out to be too much, if he could not bear the burden of responsibility that fell on his shoulders, Robert firmly decided for himself that he would hold the blow to the end. He was standing all alone, all alone, at a distance from the crowd of "whites" in the queue, which increasingly attracted the attention of the security of the rehabilitation center.

Robert saw Victor and another of his former parishioners, Sergei, talking, glancing in the direction of the priest every now and then and shaking their heads. Perhaps now, in anticipation of changes, they have found for themselves the teaching that the holy father preached nothing but a farce. It was painful to think about. Robert, like no one else, understood what euphoria and temptation meant. Now his former colleagues looked, but did not see, listened, but did not hear…

With pain in his heart and unpleasant thoughts in his head, he bowed his head, closed his eyes and began to whisper a prayer. Let the thugs with machine guns in their hands watch. No other pain could be stronger than the pain that was tearing his heart apart now. He was not afraid of awkward questions, arrest, was not afraid of anything… He prayed and believed. It became a little easier.

- Robert!

A hand touched Robert's arm, sweaty and cold. The holy father started in surprise and straightened up. Artyom was standing in front of him, looking around warily. He was visibly nervous, but he tried his best to hide his excitement.

- Artyom? Robert was surprised. The man had not seen Artyom on the square before, but somewhere deep there was a glimmer of hope that he would not come here. On this day, Robert's hopes were crumbling one by one. – Hello Artem.

- Hello, Father, - Artem nodded in greeting, but did not even look at Robert. "Excuse me, Father, I won't be verbose, but you have to take my word for it," he said.

"Don't, I'm not the right person to explain myself to," Robert said.

Artyom shuddered all over when the submachine gunner's gaze slid over a couple of men talking.

- OK, Holy Father. I understand, I understand everything, but you have to listen and hear me now, just a couple of words. This is very important, you have to understand this," Artyom's voice trembled.

"I'm listening to you," Robert nodded.

- Holy Father ... - Artem hesitated and tried to find the words. – What's going to happen here, you shouldn't be here when it happens. It won't be safe here, you should blend in with the crowd, please. If you don't do that, I'm afraid you might ruin everything.

- What are you talking about, Artem? Robert asked. "Do you think I don't know why you're here?" Do you think I've come to interfere with your plans?

"It's not quite like that, Father, or rather it's not like that at all. Will you believe me if I say that it's not as simple as you think, Father?

- What could be simpler than sin? Father Robert shook his head. – Yes, I won't believe it and say that I don't understand you, Artem. But I'm not leaving this place. I made my choice.

Artyom suddenly turned pale and straightened an object in his bosom. One of the security guards of the rehabilitation center went to the men. And judging by the fact that he was holding a machine gun in his hands at the ready, the thug's intentions were the most serious.

- Father, I ask you not to do anything stupid, leave, take my word for it, - Artyom, without waiting for the guard to come close, disappeared into the crowd of people.

Robert remained standing where he was and met the submachine gunner with a cold, expressionless and full of indifference look. In his hands, the priest was still tightly clutching the crucifix and breathing calmly, evenly.

- Why aren't you in line? the guard asked. – Vaccination will start any minute.

The man in uniform looked at the bracelet on Robert's wrist. White color. Father instinctively hid the bracelet under his sleeve.

"He who sows into his flesh from the flesh will reap corruption, and he who sows into the spirit from the spirit will reap eternal life..." said the priest, looking into the guard's eyes.

- What? The man in camouflage frowned.

- Epistle to the Galatians of the Holy Apostle Paul, Chapter 6, New Testament… Do you hear Artem? Don't you remember what the Apostle Paul taught? Doing good, let us not be discouraged, for we will reap in due time, if we do not weaken! Do you hear Artem?! Don't lose heart, my spiritual brother! Robert, who had been accumulating tension all this time, switched to shouting.

People from the crowd began to squint at the priest and whisper to each other.

"Throw him out of here and shoot him," came a voice from the speaker of a walkie-talkie that hung on the belt of a man in uniform.

The fighter raised his machine gun.

- Leave the territory of the center, - the fighter rapped out.

Robert chuckled.

"I will pray for you..." he whispered. – You don't know what you're doing, your eyes are closed…

The priest folded his palms on his chest and began to recite a prayer, loudly, aloud. He saw how his former supporters started running around in the crowd and talking to each other.

- Father Robert, go away, I beg you!

He didn't recognize the voice, but the voice belonged to one of the former parishioners. It was at this moment that an automatic burst was heard. The thought flashed through the priest's head that this might be the last sound he would hear in this life. Well, if so, he will spend the last moments of his life in prayer to the Lord, for the souls of sinners… So be it.