The Priest Read Online Free PDF Page A

move the
lock. Another faint sound announced that the lock had just been
dislodged from its side. Mauricio wiggled the fabric some more,
hoping that nobody was outside. The door opened imperceptibly.
Mauricio peeked outside cautiously and then gently pulled the door
back out, being careful to leave it opened.
    Satisfied with the result, Mauricio took a
deep breath. The girl who had taken permanent residence inside his
mind was here. And he was going to see her again. The possible
outcome didn’t scare Mauricio. He didn’t think for a second that he
could get caught. He only wanted another glimpse at her. As simple
as that. I should hate you , he thought. Or at least be
repulsed by your sight. You are lovely, I must admit… but still a
woman . You belong to the wrong sex: your race has doomed me
to slavery .
    After taking a good look outside, Mauricio
left his cell as if it was the most natural thing to do. He ducked
and took cover behind corners every time he heard approaching
noises. He made it through all the way to his final destination
without surprises. It helped that the guards didn’t expect any
slave to act the way Mauricio was acting. It also helped that he
wasn’t thinking at all. Otherwise, fear would have frozen him in
the act of opening a door he shouldn’t even be close to.
    If the door opens, it’s meant to be .
Mauricio turned the handle and then pushed gently. The door swung
on its hinges and opened with a whoosh. It’s a sign I am not
doing anything wrong . He closed his eyes before taking a look
inside. I hope she’s here . She was there. Still sleeping.
Still small. The girl was connected to several machines that beeped
regularly; she was cradled in a cocoon of wires and covered in
needles. She seems… happy . He had never seen a face so
peaceful. The men he knew were bitter in the soul and beaten in the
body. They were never happy. The women he had the unfortunate luck
to interact with were always complaining about having to work with
the slaves. They rarely smiled, even to each other.
    Mauricio smiled. He truly smiled, for no
apparent reason at all. His mouth moved without his knowledge. It
rearranged the muscles in his face in a fashion that was foreign to
him. He walked toward the bed, still grinning. She turned her head
and a strand of her hair covered her right eye. Mauricio reached
out and moved the strand out of the way. His fingers barely grazed
her skin, but she turned toward his hand. He stepped back, worried
that she was going to wake up.
    “Thanks,” she murmured in her dreams, her
voice a whisper. She sighed contently and sank into a deeper
sleep.
    Mauricio’s smile widened. I like your
voice . There was something refreshing about it—a gentle quality
he wasn’t accustomed to hearing in a woman’s voice. He realized
that she had never actually talked to him , but he didn’t
want to think too much about that. He wished she would sing again. What color are your eyes? I really want to see them .
Mauricio was taken by a sudden impulse and acted on it. Lately, he
was having a lot of those moments, he realized. He moved to the
side of the bed and sat beside it on the only chair present in the
room. He took her right hand in his and stroked her skin with light
fingers.
    Mauricio couldn’t help but notice the
unblemished quality of her complexion against his. His hands were
bigger than hers, marred by scars, and dirty. That last realization
made him drop her hand on the bed immediately. He tried to clean
the palm of his hands on his pants.
    “You're warm,” the girl said without opening
her eyes. Her hand seemed to search for the warmth that had
abandoned it.
    Mauricio tentatively nudged his fingers
close to hers. She grabbed his hand and smiled. He would have
stayed there, still as a statue for the rest of his life. There was
so much peace in the warmth of that gesture. He knew she wasn’t
holding him. I want to be that person you’re dreaming about. Mauricio felt sadness creep