Bless Me Father
by: Deane Christopher
edited by: Steve Zink

 

4 - Tribulations

The virginity business troubled the former Catholic priest to no end. Being pregnant was one thing. Being told that her maidenhead was still intact by every one of the doctors who examined her was quite another.

For all her faith, Karen did not like the implications of her being pregnant and a virgin all the same time. While Immaculate Conception was fine for Mary, Karen wanted no part of it.

The hymen, as several of the gynecologists who examined her endeavored to explain, was a thin, perforated mucous membrane that stretched across the opening of the vagina. Speaking in terms that they presumed Karen could easily understand, they pointed out the fact that the hymen’s perforations allowed for the outward passage of a woman’s menstrual discharge. Then, having said that, they continued on to speculate that while the probability of something in the realm of what they were about to suggest was infinitesimal, there existed a very slim, to be almost nonexistent, possibility that those very same perforations could theoretically have allowed sperm access into her womb.

The doctors were also quick to point out the fact that despite widely held superstition and opinion to the contrary, an unbroken maidenhead was not an absolute sign of a woman’s virginity. However, when Karen pointedly asked them their opinion as to whether or not they deemed her a virgin, they would equivocate. Try as she might to get even one of them to commit, none of the doctors who examined her would give Karen a direct answer. To put it bluntly, they would neither confirm nor deny her status as a virgin.

Karen, for her part, was just as evasive and noncommittal as the doctors were. Whenever the question of how sexually active she had been was put to her, Karen employed the same sort of tactics that the doctors did.

While the former Karen Miller had been sexually active, Father Daniel Patrick Parker, as the New Karen Miller, had not been sexually active at all. True, she had just begun to relieve all the sexual tension that she was increasingly contending with via the deft handed art form of clitoral manipulation, but that was it. While she had on numerous occasions toyed with the idea of taking her middle finger and using it in a manfully manner to pop her own cherry and thereby put and end to the virginity business, something had always stayed her hand. ‘God,’ she had reasoned, ‘has seen fit to provide me with an intact hymen. And, who am I to go against the will of God...’

But, that left the nagging questions that revolved around her and the subject of her having engaged in sexual intercourse.

Karen, not wishing to offend God, had already resolved not to lie. While it would have been the easiest thing for her to do under the circumstances, lying was not an option for her. However, the truth, were she to tell it, would probably result in her being incarcerated in a facility for the mentally ill.

Basically, it all boiled down to a stalemate. The doctors refused to commit to a finding on her status as a virgin and Karen, just as stubbornly, remained evasive when it came to answering questions that sought to pin her down on subjects that in any way explored her prior sexual activity.

+

 

"Hey!" Gabriella cheerfully intoned as Karen rejoined her in the clinic’s crowded waiting room. "What gives? You’ve been so glum here of late, and now you’re all smiles."

Karen exuberantly relied, "They just told me! I’m going to have a little girl!"

A few minutes later, as the two of them stood on the corner waiting for a bus, Gabriella inquired, "So, I take it they did a sonogram?"

"Yes. Remember, I told you they tried that the other day. But, when that proved inconclusive, Dr. Miller decided to just go ahead and draw out some embryonic fluid. And, as luck would have it, he just got the test results back from the lab this morning. And the results say that I’m going to have a little girl..."

"So," Gabriella returned tentatively, "I take it from the way you’re acting, you’d much rather have a little girl than a little boy?"

"Oh, yes! Definitely! I would much rather have a little girl."

"How come?"

"Because!"

"Because, why?"

"Because, a little girl means that God hasn’t chosen me as the delivery system for the Second Coming of His Son."

"And, that’s a good thing?"

"From my perspective, it most certainly is."

"Karen!" Gabriella’s voice conveyed a raw sense of alarm. "How in the world can you say something like that?"

"Easily... I mean, can you picture me - The Mother of God?"

"Yes, Karen. I can! And, let me tell you something, girl! For my money, God could do a lot worse than you when it comes down to picking a prospective mother for the Second Coming of His only Son..."

+

 

Later that evening, as the two of them were washing dishes, Gabriella returned to the subject they had been discussing that morning at the bus stop. "Hey! I just had a thought."

"You did, did ya?" Karen said, supplying the damn near obligatory response.

"Yeah... I did. I was thinking that you might not be off the hook as yet."

Perplex as to what her friend was talking about, the former Father Daniel Patrick Parker, with a honey-sweet contralto that was unequal to the task, endeavored to tersely demand, "Gabriella! Just what in the hell are you talking about? I might not be off the hook with respect to what - exactly?"

"To being the Mother of God."

"That’s absurd!" Karen heatedly charged. "You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Don’t I?"

"No, Gabriella! You don’t!"

"Are you sure? I mean, think about it. Suppose that God really has this warped sense of humor that you keep insisting He has. And, just for the fun of it, let’s suppose that He wants to balance out the tally sheets by sending His only son back as His only Daughter..."

+

 

Though Karen had been quick to poo-poo Gabriella’s whimsical supposition, she went to bed that night with the uneasy notion that her friend might have hit on something. Maybe Gabriella was right. Maybe she had hit upon something that centuries of theologians had missed. Could it be that God, in His inscrutable wisdom, was sending His One and Only Son to rule not as a king, but as a queen instead?

Karen doubted that such was the case. But, though she did, the remote possibility that Gabriella’s suggestion, as far fetched as it seemed, might actually have some validity, unnerved the former Catholic priest to no end.

+

 

"Gabriella..." Karen uneasily intoned as the two of them sat on a large boulder in the park and took turns skipping stones across one of the brook’s broader pools. "I’ve been thinking about what you said, and I’m just a little concerned."

"About what?"

"About the outside possibility that maybe this child of mine might be the antichrist...

I mean, considering how the former owner of this body chose to live her life, such a possibility isn’t what you might call inconceivable, now is it?"

"You know something? You’re talking a lot of nonsense, girl," Gabriella replied amidst a wealth of half-checked chuckles.

"I am, am I?"

"You sure are. First off, while you might have inherited the Old Karen’s body, you aren’t her. You are your own person. And, take it from me, girl, you are truly one of the good guys. And, don’t go trying to tell me you’re not. Because, you know you are. And, do you know what really infuriates me? You’re not prissy, prudish or preachy about it.

"Understand?! I’m not suggesting for one minute that you don’t have your faults, girl. Because, take it from me, you do! You have plenty of faults. The thing is, you just seem to handle them a whole lot better than most people...

"Now, as to this antichrist business of yours...

"Believe me, Karen! There’s no way in hell that you could give birth to the antichrist! And, even you if did, given the kind person you are, you’d end up beating the devil at his own game. You’re going to do right by this little girl of yours and you know you are. You’re going to raise her right. You’re going to teach her to love God and to love her neighbor as herself...

"But, you’ve got to believe me when I say this, Karen! There’s no evil associated with the child you’re carrying! That’s to say that she’s as pure as the driven snow."

"How can you be sure of that?"

"Because, as I keep telling you, girl, I’m psychic..."

+

 

In the ensuing weeks, Karen made some real progress in her attempts to improve her life. First off, she got a part-time job as a cashier at a nearby McDonalds. Then, the week following that, she damn near aced the exam that qualified her to receive her GED Certificate.

Then, just when things were beginning to shape up, tragedy hit. Gabriella suffered a miscarriage.

Oddly enough, Karen seemed to take the loss of Gabriella’s unborn baby a lot harder than Gabriella herself did. Her friend’s tragedy traumatized Karen. It plunged her into a black melancholy, a melancholy that severely threatened what was already the former priest’s tenuous grasp on sanity.

Being turned into a girl was one thing. Being turned into a pregnant girl was another. The stark realization that the precious gift of life she carried within her womb could be extinguished at any moment, thrust her into a state of self-deprecating despondency.

As much as Karen feared becoming a mother, she came to the realization that she feared not becoming a mother even more.

What occurred next was a strange reversal of roles.

Karen, who, as Father Dan, had spent her whole adult life consoling people in their time of need, found herself unequal to the task of consoling Gabriella. Instead of Karen compassionately trying to give solace to Gabriella in her time of need, it was Gabriella who rose to the occasion. Using every ploy she could think of, Gabriella coaxed, cuddled and, when all else failed, cajoled Karen out of the doldrums she had enveloped herself within.

"Okay, girl!" Gabriella sternly snapped. "I’ve had it! Enough’s enough! You’ve wallowed in this blue funk of yours long enough and it’s really starting to get to me!

"So, here’s what we’re going to do. You and I are going to run over to the Goodwill Store and see what we can find for that new baby of yours.

"And, you might as well know, I’m not about to take ‘no’ for answer.

"So, why don’t you finish your juice; go upstairs and put on some fat clothes so that the two of us can get going..."

 

 

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© 2001 by Deane Christopher. All Rights Reserved. These documents (including, without limitation, all articles, text, images, logos, compilation design) may printed for personal use only. No portion of these documents may be stored electronically, distributed electronically, or otherwise made available without express written consent of the copyright holder.