Ego Te Absolvo
Father Clive finished helping with the last of the dinner-dishes, eying Javier with kindness. The boy had cut some corners and left some dinner plates slightly smeared with grease; but he was only 13. His hands shook, and his attention wandered—classic anxiety. Fr. Clive saw the boy grab a buttered roll, stuff it in a napkin, then into his pocket, but chose not to bother with it. The kid needs to eat , he thought. "Are you ready for night prayer?" Fr. Clive asked, scratching his shingle-ridden head. He'd been avoiding a doctor visit for too long. Javier nodded with exaggerated (but not sarcastic) obedience. Canter walked by, "I'll pray for your soul," he said to Javier. That drew a smile from Javier, "You need it more than I do after dodgeball today." Canter laughed and the door from the cafeteria shut loudly behind him as he exited. Fr. Clive and Javier exchanged a glance, shrugged, and followed him close behind for night prayer. The snow was pil...