Dreamers Awake: Chapter 10.

Chapter 10

His coffee cup clinked slightly as he placed it down with gentle care. It was expensive China that the McAllister’s had given him that one Christmas and he treated it as such. This was his morning routine, to have coffee and pastries with his secretary Jane Mulrooney. She was an older woman, nearing 60 but still as bright and sharp as a 20 year old. She was as devoted to her job as she was to the Lord and since she attended Church whenever she could and even did readings, in his book, she was as devoted as one could get without being a Nun. She was also a real joy to have in the rectory, since truth be told, this place could get mighty lonely. To at least be able to hear someone puttering about downstairs, making coffee, typing on the computer, talking on the phone, it was a comfort when the hours stretched too long and the silence became too loud to bear.

            She always showed up to work with donuts or cinnamon rolls or some other sweet and Father Mulkerrin always made the coffee. Then they would sit quietly, chatting occasionally but for the most part it was silent though a comfortable one. If Samuel knew what it was like to be married, he would have compared it to the sort of comfort a Husband and Wife must have around one another. Just at peace in each others presence, nothing more, no questioning, no obligation to fill the air with idle chit chat, just comfort and peace.

            That was his life’s goal after all, to find pure peace in his life with the Lord’s help and to show that peace to others and guide them onto the path of being one with the Lord as well. It was hard work sometimes, especially with the younger generations. Peoples Faith was faltering and he knew why. It was a hard and cruel world they lived in and try as he might, most kids were already lost. They played video games, watched TV shows, their minds were warped to think that guns and bloodshed, violence and horror was “cool” while living a good and noble life was “lame.”

            But today was not a day to worry about these things. If they were meant to accept God, they would accept him in due time. All Father Mulkerrin could do was be there for them when they came to this realization. And he would be, as he always was. He was there for all the people in his Parish and they were there for him.

            His thoughts were soon broken by the clink of Mrs. Mulrooney’s cup and a contented sigh. Glancing away from the window and over to her he smiled gently and she smiled back, saying easily, “That was just what I needed. It was tough to get out of bed this morning.”

            Nodding in agreement he took another sip of his coffee and said quietly, “That it was, it’s getting colder outside, makes it a chore to get up in the morning.” With a smile the older woman nodded and stood, gathering her coffee cup and saucer and walked into the next room. Samuel listened distractedly as the water ran in the Kitchen as she rinsed their plates out in the sink. She would run the dishwasher for him in the afternoon, most likely after lunch; it was part of their routine.

            As he listened to her rinse out the dishes and heard them clattering against the metal of the sink, his mind drifted to the dream he had had that night. He often had dreams where he comforted people; it was in his nature to be a caregiver. But it had been so long since he had dreamt of Paul. And he was surprised at how much he had been thinking about it. Shaking his head he sighed and wondered what Mrs. Mulrooney would say about it. They talked about dreams sometimes and Faith, obviously. She had been his friend for years, he was sure she would listen and not judge.

            So with a quiet clearing of his throat he lifted his head and let his fingers rest on the tabletop, not turning around to glance at the doorway, figuring she would come back into the room at her own pace. His voice was gentle, but loud enough to be heard in the kitchen, blue eyes gazing out the window at the cars passing by and the birds flying.

            “Mrs. Mulrooney…what stock do you hold in dreams?”

            Her footsteps were soft as she came back through the kitchen and sat down in her usual seat. Her smile was bright but gentle, eyes compassionate and a little confused at his random question. But she answered as always, voice soft and soothing.

            “I don’t think they’re as symbolic as some people do but, I think they’re there for a reason. Why?”

            He felt his brows furrow as he frowned and thought. Why was he asking this? Did he want confirmation that he wasn’t crazy? Was he nearing some sort of mental breakdown because he dreamt about his long dead twin? Did this dream have more significance or was he just exaggerating, blowing things out of proportion? His blue eyes must have looked as confused as he felt because when he raised his eyes her face had softened and her eyes were worried but he was quick to speak, to try and dispel her concerns.

            “I had a dream last night about my Brother…Paul, my twin who died when we were young. I’ve mentioned him before?”

            The older woman nodded and said gently, “Yes, once or twice, I know that you two were very close.”

            Samuel nodded and took a deep breath for a moment, to try and steady himself. He watched his fingers rest against the white table cloth, listened to the hum of the radiator, the usual sounds of the old rectory settling. He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to dredge up all the old memories. But he knew that this dream was important, for whatever reason. He just knew it in his heart. With a resigned sigh he shook his head and glanced up at Joan Mulrooney once more and said in a soft voice, “I haven’t dreamt of him in years. I pray for him, I pray that his soul is at peace and that he is in the presence of God and I pray that I will see him again. But…I haven’t thought about him in such a long time.”

            His lips pursed tight together as he paused and thought, trying to sort through his words. Blinking slowly he glanced up at Joan, who was watching him with a soft but sad smile, patient as always, letting him finish his story.

            “It wasn’t a nightmare, nothing frightening or unsettling about it. But what sticks out in my mind is when I hugged my Mother, to comfort her, I remember feeling very peaceful. I understood that Paul’s time had come, that God had called him home and that he was alright, that he was safe and happy where he was. And I remember holding my Mother, who had been crying so hard before, but as I thought about how peaceful and happy Paul must be, I began to feel the same way, serene, happy for my Brother that he had found this eternal rest, that he was in paradise. And as I felt that serenity, I realized that my Mother’s shoulders had relaxed, that she was no longer crying and when I looked down she was looking up at me with a smile, looking as reassured and confident as I was, assured that Paul was somewhere better.”

            Again his lips pursed tight together as he tried to think this through. Was that it, was he unsettled by the fact that his Mother had been so sure of Paul’s fate, that she had felt the same as he, that Paul was in a better place? Was he unnerved by the fact that it had been as if his very emotions had drifted from his mind to steal into his Mothers’ and make her feel the very same way? Why would that upset him though? Shaking his head he let out a slight laugh and ran fingers through his unruly brown hair and leaned back in the chair saying with a bit of a smile, “It was just…strange I guess. I don’t usually have that affect on people or something, but…it was just a dream.”

            Blue eyes glanced up at Mrs. Mulrooney again and he was comforted to see that she was sitting there, still smiling and understanding. As he laughed it off and shrugged, saying that it was just a dream, all she did was reach forward and squeeze his fingers with her own for a moment. Then she stood and smiled down at him, her voice soft and comforting, as always.

            “I think that dream was just God’s way of telling you that you’re a very good person, very strong in your Faith and people come to you to feel comforted in troubled times, like your Mother, you’re able to comfort people with a word.”

            At her kind words Samuel smiled gently and gave her fingers a squeeze back as he nodded and said, “Thank you Joan…that means a lot.” And it did. Sometimes he wondered if the older woman really knew how much he appreciated having her around. His chance to tell her was thwarted though as the phone rang sharply through the house and she hurried off to answer it. As he listened to her chat away in the other room he leaned back in his chair and went back to looking out of the window, watching the world pass by and wondering if her words were true. Did God give him that dream for a reason? Or was it just a dream…

            He would probably never know.