5 As An Adage Ages

Jean comfortably sat on the new cushioned bench in front of the renovated organ. "Dominique" by The Sung Nun played as Jean sang alone, practicing his vocal skills. Jean offhandedly thought about the finalizing of proprietorship documents over the next few weeks.

The Church let Jean buy the private property of the Renningberry Catholic Church because they liked him: Jean was devout since his childhood, actively helpful in the community, and purely celibate, which easily let him enter Diocesan Priesthood. Jean would've been the next Pastor it weren't for Jean being Asian, Vietnamese at that, and Murphy Steinly, a jealous old codger who wanted the prestige from the title of a Pastor.

Jean was wealthy and not shy in providing donations, like his investments in spreading Catholic schooling. His funds went to needy families, like Jean's when he was younger, and the homeless. Jean also paid for construction projects all across the United States, like new statues of Virgin Mary, Jesus, angels, and saints, or new Churches and Cathedrals.

Jean's money let him into get into advanced studies for an even more solid background with college degrees. He was in an accelerated curriculum and could easily finish in a few years. His mother and father were proud since their two sons were well off and Jean sent them tens of thousands of dollars each month. Of course, Jean also occasionally visited to upkeep his appearance as a filial son. This included his brother, whose identity he used to gamble with and tie in a relationship as his broker.

For his new religious property, Jean installed stained-glass windows and several frescos to make his Church more holy and elaborate. Almost all the refurbishing was complete, with air conditioning needing some final rehauling. Jean even secretly made his own secret room from his office and a secret passage in that room leading to the sewers. The privacy and freedom made him feel refreshed.

Jean stopped to look at his watch, seeing it was almost time. He didn't sing anymore songs, but finished playing the rest of the accompanying Gothic music.

Cicadas buzzed loudly in the summer afternoon. As the Sun still hung high, a constantly present and suffocating heat swept the streets. The recently dried paint job on the Church differed from the older buildings around it. Most hailed from the Baby Boom.

A light knock resounded off the re-varnished door. Another hesitant knock followed, with a small pause. Then, the door opened and slowly shut, light steps coming in. Pale white legs moved quickly, swaying their worn baggy shorts.

"...Father Jean?" called out a young girlish voice. Jean stopped playing.

"Jeremy! How have you been doing?" Jean warmly spoke. He turned around and stared with his deep, profound eyes.

"I know you're starting high school next semester, so it should be quite hard for you. The transfer in curriculum and social pressure must be suffocating. It's hard to know what to do with your future. 'If you fail under pressure, your strength is too small.' Proverbs 24:10. You should be able to handle the problems God gives you as a test of your faith in Him."

Jean knew "Germy" Jeremy Quince, or the "sick" kid of the neighborhood. He was always an outcast, disappointing his father who kept growing more distant from him. He mostly relived his time with his late mother, when times were better.

Jeremy was strangely petite and acted like his mother. He practically was a growing girl, yet not at the same time. It's why he had severe problems socializing, which worsened when his bullies took his money, his food, his friends, his fun, his time, and nearly his every waking moment away. His Garden of Wonders helped pacify his nature, despite being repeatedly ruined.

Jeremy leaned against a nearby pew. He rested his head on his hands. His long blond hair swayed when he looked away, totally unable to meet Jean's eyes. Instead, Jeremy's cerulean eyes focused on the colorful stained-glass windows, specifically on Jesus being crucified.

"Father Jean… Can I confess to you about something?" Jeremy twiddled his fingers. The long sleeves of his shirt rested on the wood, covering the rest of his arms.

"Yes, you may, Jeremy. Many have spoken to me about their troubles. It's not embarrassing to ask for help from the Servants of God. 'Remember this— a farmer who plants only a few seeds will get a small crop. But the one who plants generously will get a generous crop.' 2 Corinthians 9:6. We reap what we sow."

"This… isn't like others. It's a secret no one else knows! I… can't deal with it all on my own anymore!"

"Oh?" Jean raised his eyebrow. Considering his social network and comprehensive knowledge of bodily gestures, Jean predicted it was finally time. Jeremy was being bullied for this exact reason.

"I… think I… like…" Jeremy trailed off and bent back. His small hands covered his small, pinkish lips. He couldn't show his face without reddening in embarrassment.

"Go on, Jeremy. God shuns no souls who seek guidance," Jean reassured him.

"I think I like… men? Whenever I get aroused, it's only from looking at boys. No one likes me because of this, but will God still love me?"

Jean smiled warmly. It was easy for him to notice something queer. Inconsistencies built up from noticing all the tiny details of everyday life and all of it hinted at this. With this, Jean gained a convenient and malleable pawn. He only needed to apply pressure from the others, give double entendres as advice, and play dumb for the bodies to pile…

And considering the news yesterday, Jeremy's homophobic aggressors Brad, Chad, Will, and Hank died unexpectedly from poisoning. Jean had no doubt Jeremy's castor beans refined themselves in his vengeful anger. All those days spent caring for Jeremy culminated into a repenting sinner at Jean's feet...

"Do not fret, Jeremy. 'Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud.' 1 Corinthians 13:4."

John stood up and walked into the colorful light as the Sun started setting. He looked like a blessed saint sent from Heaven.

Jeremy stared in stunned adulation. Yet moments later, he began tearing up.

"Father Jean… my secret is darker than my lust for men."

Jean laughed maniacally in his mind, but only showed a gracious and sympathetic face.

"Please, Jeremy. Let God absolve you of your sins! Take your time to rest your burdened soul here!" Jean hugged Jeremy close to his chest. Jeremy hugged him back, crying silently.

"...Yes, Father Jean."

"Oh? You're sweating quite a lot. I should get you a drink. A hot summer day is exhausting to walk around in!" Jean wiped Jeremy's wet forehead and tears with a handkerchief from his robes. Jean gently grabbed Jeremy's wrist and the boy flinched at the touch.

Scars.

Still, Jean left the handkerchief in his open hand.

"Thank you, Father Jean. You were always there for me, when times were hard."

"I try to help my fellows of faith," Jean chuckled. He couldn't wait to start his fun.

When Jeremy woke up, he couldn't see. He was slightly thirsty and also had a slight headache. A few seconds later, like any normal person, he panicked. He flailed around wildly, strangely not feeling restrictions but hitting against a stone wall.

"Father Jean, you're a rapist too?!" he screamed internally.

All those moments Jeremy thought he could trust him… just like that, he was drugged and captured. It wasn't too different from Pastor Nick's behavior.

"I should've known he was crazy too!"

Jeremy fumbled around the dark. First, he checked his crotch and butt. Luckily, Jeremy felt like he was untouched. He laid on what felt like a bed and pillow, with a blanket over him.

The space was cramped. There was hardly enough room for him to fully stand up.

His hands felt around the wall. He started to lose hope after a few minutes of futile searching. Then, a faint sound came from behind him.

Jeremy grabbed the blanket and prepared to throw it. Even if it was Father Jean… he did not want his first time like this.

"He's coming, isn't he?" Jeremy thought.

A scratching noise slowly bled in a little light. The wall moved over to reveal a secret passage. There, Father Jean stood with his school bag. He put a gloved finger to his lips.

"Shhh. They're searching for you above us. You have to run," Jean whispered.

Jeremy felt confused.

"What do you mean, Father Jean?"

Jean chuckled.

"I may be a priest but I'm not completely clueless. I should have helped you more and showed those boys the path of God. Now, it's too late. I know you're a nice boy, so I had to do this for your own safety."

Jean opened the passageway to the sewers. He handed over the bag. Jeremy dumbly took it, still in shock.

"Go! Before it's too late! Live your life, repenting for your sins! You can't do the work of God stuck in prison or when you're dead!"

Jeremy started crying. He bowed.

"I misunderstood you, Father Jean! Thank you for everything!"

Jeremy slipped out, soon stepping into the noxious air in the sewers and nearly throwing up.

"Eurgh! ...Um, Father—"

"Go! We don't have time!"

Jeremy cried for a different reason this time, but left nevertheless.

Jean stared at him until he truly went away. He quickly closed up the passage and began cleaning up all the traces of Jeremy.

"What comes next depends on you, Jeremy."

Jean grinned widely.

"Will you still trust me? Or will you become suspicious because of how much society has hurt you?"

He laughed, knowing the waiting game continued. Any of the results still was a win.

Jeremy spent hours lost in the sewers. He looked in his bag and only found his life's savings, his most personal belongings, a bit of food and a bottle of water.

"Couldn't you have given me something else? This place is a maze!"

Jeremy slowly got used to the odor. If he didn't, he would go insane. His breath got shorter and he felt winded. Father Jean gave him strength but it could only be so much.

"Might as well take a break."

Jeremy didn't know where he could exit safely so he chose to keep walking until he found the end. For now, he took out a ham and cheese sandwich.

"Mmmh."

Jeremy ate slowly. He unscrewed the cap of the bottle and gulped down with vigor.

"Ah! Hits the spot!"

Jeremy regretted his bloody hands. Maybe there could be something between Jean and him?

Bah.

It was too late.

Jeremy continued walking, saddened at the loss but determined to make the best of it. After a while, his stomach started hurting.

"Maybe it's killing me being in the sewers. They are really dirty."

Jeremy tried finding an open manhole cover but each of them were locked in place. The pain kept building like a hot fire in his body. It burned and cut through him. Hours passed.

Soon, Jeremy couldn't go on. He coughed up blood, unable to breath properly.

His last thoughts dwelled on why Jean sacrificed his life when he went through all this trouble to help him escape. Jeremy died in a bloody pool of his own insides, longing for love and affection.

Time passed. The unprecedented situation erupted, completely unlike the few deaths that hit the streets in the past years.

Four kids poisoned to death by ricin in school: the son of a barber, the son of an office worker, the son of a manager in IKYEA, and the son of a high school teacher. The case went even deeper.

Jeremy Quince became notorious. The news said he was a psychopathic homosexual bent on killing other young boys for rejecting his love. Families panicked as they hid their children from this menace that also slit the throat of nine pedestrians before he killed his own father and went into hiding.

Days later, investigators discovered a disturbed manhole cover near Jeremy's home, which led into the sewers. They found the bloody knife and a whole week of searching found Jeremy's decaying corpse. He apparently suicided when discovering he couldn't find another way out.

It was a travesty for the city of Overman's Park. An uproar against the gays swept the American nation, with calls for more safety regulations on gardening and patrols on the street. The city responded with lackluster enthusiasm, shifting public focus more to homophobia than to waste more time roaming the streets to find nonexistent criminals, as Jeremy Quince was an exceptionally unique case.

And where was Jean in all of this? Jean played the part of an upstanding citizen, advocating for God's grace instead of revealing his brutal nature. He was sated recently when cutting down those innocent people. Still, he had to address the bigger issue at some point. Aggravated racial undertones by the incident caused hate to fly his way, despite his stellar performance. It didn't help that Jeremy lived on the same street as his Church.

Thus, Jean made a plain speech free from his usual religious banter.

"I know you all question the sanctity of the Catholic Church and if the homosexuals are predators looking for our children."

The congregation angrily spoke about proper punishment set and given to the homoerotic sinners. They would gladly stone a gay man if they had the chance.

"Forgive me of speaking this in front of children, but they must know," Jean said solemnly. A few families left with their children as Jean waited in a bated pause.

"Lawrence Murph, the priest from St. John's School for the Deaf, who molested boys in the Wisconsin suburbs of Milwauke decades ago. Jon Geoghan, the priest who was prosecuted in Cambridge, Massachusetts a few years ago for sexual abuse of over a hundred boys. Jon Hanlon, the Roman Catholic Priest, who has his paedophilic history and currently is in court in Massachusetts for raping two boys many years ago…" he rattled off.

The Catholic Church was under heavy scrutiny, especially with the homophobia craze and the exposing of predators in their Clergy. The Pope struggled to deal with this, let alone Jean.

"Even Pastor Nick was shockingly a rapist of young children. Yet this does not stand to reason with our anger. Already, heavy efforts are carried out to purge the Catholic Church clean. Our officers patrol, day in and day out, investigating suspicions and putting their lives on the line. Lawmakers are advocating for reform. There is no need for panic. Homosexuals are not evil spawn! It is the Devil of Lust that leads them astray!"

"Yeah right! Says you, the rich and corrupt Chinese man!" shouted the hairy Mitch.

"The Chinese are the problem!" said Gary.

"No, it's the f*cking gays!" said Herald.

"We were talking about the rapists in the Catholic Church, you idiots! They are the problem here, poisoning our family values!" screamed Beth.

"We need to stand together! Do not cloud your judgement before you see who the man in front of you is! Together, we can root out the evil around us! Together, we can defend ourselves, our children! Together, we can carry out God's graces! Together, we are America! Only together can we overcome these troubled times!" Jean clasped his hands together.

"Bullsh*t!"

"Crazy f*cking priest!"

"Why'd I even come here anymore?!"

"We're leaving!"

"Don't ever tell us how to think! We can protect our own families!"

"Bet he's a closet gay! All Catholic priests are, nowadays!"

The congregation stormed out and left. Surprisingly, not a single person stayed to listen to Jean, despite his reputation.

"Typical Americans…" muttered Jean.

It didn't matter that he lost the public's support. He already accounted for this.

Jean just had more free-time on his usually busy hands now.

With more time, Jean could cause more deaths.

And with more deaths, Jean could gain more support.

It was an endless cycle.

Jean would manifest his own destiny.