One more step, maybe another, and the weight of the sun, hunger and thirst in the weak body of that man make him succumb after days of wandering in the desert. On his knees he looks to the sky for some strength while a voice in his ear whispers to him in a whisper.
_Just say the word.
Ramiro awoke startled, the words of his dream echoing in his mind. Sweat was running down his forehead and as always after the same episode, anxiety nestled in his chest and made him breathe heavily, unable to sleep for the rest of the night.
The young man has minutes stirring his coffee with the small spoon or rather stirring his thoughts; and the dream, the one that had made a home in his unconscious was summarized in that sentence "Just say the word" that morning he would be ordained Deacon of a small rural parish to which he would leave the next day but first he needed to talk with his pastor.
_ Temptation. Said the old priest as he poured himself a glass of brandy and continued.
Our Lord was tempted for 40 days before beginning his ministry, perhaps unconsciously you feel pressured now that you are beginning yours Ramiro, have you thought about it?
_ I have thought a thousand things Father Julián, this dream has become recurrent and it is beginning to affect my lucidity.
_ Calm down son, understand that God does not give us burdens that we cannot carry, you must be humble and follow the path of the Lord.
_ I know Father, but it is disturbing, when I wake up from sleep I feel as if the sand of that desert is sticking to my body and the thirst, I feel an incomparable thirst. The worst are those words that echo in my mind permanently.
_ Pray son, praying is the answer and salvation. Cling to your faith.
_ That I do, Father.
A pause flooded the small room as Ramiro's anguished gaze became entangled in the variegated shapes of the carpet. The old priest drained the brandy and poured the young man a glass.
_ It's not as effective as pray it is but the brandy helps too, he said, celebrating his joke with a laugh.
_ Thank you, Father, for all your advice during these years, I am going to miss you very much and even more now that it will be my turn to counsel souls..... He said wrinkling his face and passing the drink.
Ramiro Fernandez was already close to 22 years old, the time in the seminary accentuated his circumspect character, very thin figure and extreme pallor with its almost 1.80 of height was something to be seen while walking the corridors of the seminary. The first in every course, he seemed to have an answer for everything, especially in philosophy where he generated all kinds of debates with the professors.
That afternoon he boarded the bus for his new parish, a trip of almost 20 hours to his destination. He had not finished settling into his seat when a female voice addressed him.
_ Excuse me, is this seat taken?
They didn't stop talking except for small periods when the bus stopped at a station, they talked about everything they could during the trip. Ramiro had never talked so much with any woman at all, although at the time it didn't cross his mind. Jessie was her name, or so she said.
_ So Deacon, my aunt is in charge of the parish house, I always go to visit her in the afternoons, said the woman smiling and continued:
_ I shouldn't tell you but I usually steal of the consecrated wine from Father, poor thing he is already old. She said in a mocking tone.
Ramiro avoided looking at her directly while she was talking to him and she was perfectly aware of it, feeling very pleased with the nerves of the aspiring priest. When they arrived in town the woman led him to the parish house as she had promised.
_ Well, here we are, Jessie said, you know if you want me to visit you in the evenings to steal some wine "Just say the word".
_ Thank you, stammered Ramiro invaded by an embracing and sudden thirst as the phrase he had forgotten during the trip fell on him with all its weight. He tried to pull himself together before entering the old house.
That night, after praying, Ramiro dreamed. The man was no longer on his knees, he walked facing the sun while the voice that was a tantalizing whisper sank into those sands.
This is an original story from @joalheal for The ink well community in their weekly prompt #60: Temptation.
photography from Pixabay edited in Canva and Picsart.
Translated with www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)
