Free Mark Schweizer - Liturgical 12 - The Cantor Wore Crinolines by Mark Schweizer Page B

appointment! ”
    “That’s okay,” I said with a shrug. “No problem. I can come back. Who’s in there with him now?”
    “ No one! ” Marilyn hissed under her breath. “No one. But you … don’t … have … an … appointment! He was very clear about scheduling appointments! ”
    “Oh. An appointment. Why didn’t you say so? Shall I schedule one then?”
    “If you like.” Marilyn’s left eye twitched. “He has a free half-hour at one o’clock.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said very loudly, loud enough to be heard through the closed door of the priest’s office. “As you know, I’m on sabbatical. I can’t make it today at one. I’ll try to schedule an appointment next week sometime.”
    The door to the priest’s office opened suddenly and the newest clergy member of St. Barnabas stood there in a full-length, black cassock. He had a dark-red band-cincture around his waist and the white clerical collar was prominent at his throat. He offered me a warm, moist hand and I took it. He didn’t let it go, but squeezed it meaningfully, like he was milking a cow.
    “Hayden, how very nice to meet you,” he said. “I’ve heard so much about our illustrious police captain and organist. I have just a few minutes between appointments but perhaps we can chat for a moment. I’m Father Dressler.”
    “Good to meet you, too” I said, letting him usher me by the hand into his sanctum sanctorum .
    He released my hand and I managed to wipe it unobtrusively on the back of my barn jacket while he walked around the desk and sat in the large leather chair bought by one of his supercilious predecessors. I didn’t bother to remove my jacket. I wouldn’t be in his office that long.
    Bev hadn’t told me much about this new priest, and I hadn’t met him before now. He was younger than he’d appeared when I’d seen him yesterday from the back of the nave, and I hadn’t gone up for communion. I judged him to be in his mid-forties, although his short hair was graying. He had a strong chin and a slightly hooked nose, but smallish, quick, dark eyes that were rather unsettling. I was reminded of nothing so much as a rodent in a clerical costume. Still, you can’t judge a book by its cover.
    “Have a seat,” he said, and gestured to the smaller armchair across from his desk.
    I sat down and said, “I really can’t stay long. I just came by to say hello and introduce myself.”
    “Thank you very much for that,” said the priest. He picked up a mug of something hot that was on his desk, blew across the top, and took a sip. “Would you like some black tea? I find it invigorating.”
    “No thanks. I do have a question, though. Do you always dress in your cassock?”
    “Not on my days off, certainly,” he replied, “but whenever I’m doing the Lord’s work. Do you approve?”
    I nodded. “Absolutely.”
    “That was a well-attended service yesterday. There are certainly some things that I’d do differently.” He waited for me to respond, then added, “I saw you sitting in the back.”
    “Yes, I would probably have done some things differently as well.”
    “Such as?”
    “Well, that’s really up to you, isn’t it?” I said. “I’m on sabbatical.”
    “So I heard. That was Mrs. Terra-Pock’s last Sunday, wasn’t it?”
    “Yes, it was. I believe she has other engagements starting this week. The music committee should have some good ideas by now who they can get.” I stood up. “It’s good to meet you, but I really have to get back to the station.”
    “I’ll get right to the point then,” said Father Dressler. “You are to come back to work immediately. I’m afraid your sabbatical has been cancelled.”
    I laughed out loud and he looked shocked.
    “I’m sorry, did I say something funny?”
    “Really,” I said, “thanks for asking, but I’m rather busy.”
    “I … I don’t think you understand,” sputtered Father Dressler.
    “I’ve got to go. It’s been a real pleasure, Father.”
    I