Exorcist of the American Nightmares

The white-haired old man was none other than Old Brown, whom York had encountered earlier in the Temm community.

Seeing Old Brown's face, worn out and filled with endless sorrow, York seemed to understand something. He responded with a steady voice, "Yes, I just got back this morning."

Old Brown's strained smile remained, as he sincerely said, "Father, could you lend me an ear, just to listen? I have no one else to talk to."

York clasped his hands together and calmly replied, "I'd be glad to."

.....................…

The main building of the church had a sanctuary for prayers and masses, as well as a semi-private area for confessions and private conversations between the faithful and the priest. There were also meditation or prayer rooms for individuals to pray quietly, reflect, or seek spiritual guidance and psychological support.

York led Old Brown to a dimly lit corner next to the hall, where they both sat down, separated by a partition that obscured their faces, allowing for confession without pressure.

York knew his duty as a listener was to let the confessor speak first, often the best approach.

He could guess Old Brown's situation: a wife lying on a hospital bed, virtually a vegetable, living day by day on IV drips.

Beyond that, Old Brown often lamented his deteriorating health, mockingly referring to himself as a walking corpse…

York closed his eyes, waiting silently for Old Brown to speak.

For a while, the space was filled only with their breathing.

After what seemed like an eternity, Old Brown seemed to muster his courage and spoke, "Father, does heaven really exist?"

York opened his eyes. He didn't truly know if heaven existed, even though he knew of hell's existence.

"If you believe heaven exists, then it truly does. If you believe it doesn't, then it doesn't. But I believe heaven exists…"

Hearing this, Old Brown's mouth twitched upward in a silent smile, willing to believe in heaven's existence for his wife's sake, despite having no faith himself.

The conversation ended, and the space fell silent again, but soon Old Brown continued, his voice filled with reminiscence as he looked at the partition.

"Father, my wife passed away today."

York had anticipated this, making the sign of the cross calmly.

"Amen. May the Lord welcome Mrs. Judith."

Old Brown blinked, grief in his eyes.

"I believe someone will take her to heaven. Judith was so kind…"

He then recounted the events of the day.

"Yesterday, I visited her, and Judith seemed much more lucid…"

"But I didn't expect it was her preparing to leave. She said the only thing she worried about was me not taking care of myself…"

"In her final moments, she still looked at me, Father, do you know? Even lying on the bed, she worried about me…"

"…"

Listening, York could imagine the scene, remaining silent as Old Brown continued.

Old Brown gradually shifted to memories of the past, talking about how he met his wife, their relationship, their wedding, and their happy life together.

"How happy and blissful we were back then…"

By the end, York had become a true listener, just as Old Brown needed someone to talk to.

Eventually, Old Brown mentioned something unrelated, "Father, thank you for listening. I feel much better. May I ask you a question?"

York remained calm, nodding.

"Sure."

"Do you remember those kids who mocked God?"

Old Brown's voice was very calm, and York's eyelids darkened. He remembered them well; it hadn't been long, and he always felt those people would eventually face trouble.

"I remember."

As soon as he said this, Old Brown continued.

"I've recently found out what they've done. They belong to a gang called Vance. They use drugs, grow marijuana, extort innocent people, and sell drugs. Do you think they are guilty?"

Hearing this, York thought for a moment, puzzled by why Old Brown was investigating these individuals, especially since Old Brown had previously advised him not to bother with such scum.

"Humanity is God's creation. The Lord said to respect life and body, to protect one's own and others' health. Therefore, the Lord's mercy and forgiveness will not extend to them…"

York stopped speaking, unaware of Old Brown's gaze becoming resolute.

"I understand, Father. Thank you for spending the day talking with this old man."

As Old Brown seemed ready to leave, York saw him stand up from the gap under the partition.

"You're welcome. It's my duty. But Mr. Brown, may I ask why you were investigating these people?"

Old Brown paused, then calmly said, "I was just confirming whether they were guilty."

After hearing this, York looked towards the gap under the partition.

It was empty; Old Brown had left.

He didn't move, pondering Old Brown's words.

Confirming their guilt, and then what? An idea unexpectedly formed in York's mind. Normally, confirming guilt leads to judgment; the two are interconnected.

"Is Old Brown going to judge those scum?" York couldn't believe his own speculation.

After all, Old Brown was nearly eighty years old. Even if he was a retired military officer, it seemed unlikely he had the physical strength or capability to judge these young and strong individuals.

A sunset's glow could hardly compare to the brightness of a rising sun.

York immediately stood up, leaving the confessional, planning to ask Old Brown again.

There must be something he wasn't aware of.

But as he prepared to leave, he noticed a thick envelope on the seat where Old Brown had sat.

York stopped in his tracks, eyeing the envelope with a sigh, knowing its contents without opening it.

Given its thickness, it likely contained a significant amount.

He sighed because the envelope bore a message, as if Old Brown had anticipated his actions.

"Father, please don't stop me…"

Holding the envelope, thinking of Old Brown's situation, York's expression fluctuated.

Old Brown had promised Mrs. Judith to live well, but it seemed he had decided to act against those scum. But why?