The Ecstasy of Gold

I was in a bar one night when this guy sat at my table and asked me if I minded. I had been stood up earlier that evening – thirty years later I ran into the lady in a bar and mentally high-fived my then twenty-year-old self – and was dying for human company, so I said I didn’t mind. Right away you could tell two things about him – he liked his drink and he was a compulsive talker, albeit not without a certain charm. In any case, who would you rather listen to over a drink – an insurance broker or a wino?

This is the story he told me.

Father Brian, a priest of the local parish, has just locked up the church and was on his way to dinner. He is getting into his car when a respectable looking couple appear out of nowhere and plead with him to administer last rites to their dear father. They have only just moved into town when he suddenly fell gravely ill. They sound desperate, especially the ravishing young lady.

The priest struggles to hide his annoyance – in his business people drop like flies but let me tell you: nothing stands between Father Brian and his burger... Except this time it’s different. Father bought a lottery ticket this morning, which meant he had to be on his best behaviour. Well at least until the draw day..

He nods with a forced smile and tells them to lead the way.

After almost an hour’s driving they pull up in front of an imposing Victorian mansion. The priest is shown into a lavishly decorated reception, through a library and into the old man’s bedroom.

They are left alone. He looks at a haggard face of a dying man perched high on a huge pillow at the top of a double four-poster bed. It occurs to him the man is in a surprisingly great shape for his age, but his breath is uneven and his body is shaking feverishly under the blanket. Poor soul.

Just as he was about to get down to praying, the old man’s eyes crack open and he beckons to him to come closer.

‘Padre, I have not got long left on this Earth. I want to confess, for I have sinned,’ he whispers.

‘Preserve your strength, my son, we have much to do.’

‘We haven’t got much time. Make sure no one is listening.’

‘No one’s here, you can begin, my son.’ He checks his pockets and remembers that he left the earphones in the car.

With an air of frustration he settles down to listen to the old man’s story.

As a young man he fought in the WWII and while there he committed the ultimate sin. He was guarding a shipment of Nazi gold deep in the forests of Bavaria, and one day him and his sergeant decided to steal it. They got away with what they could carry off and buried the treasure in the forest. The sergeant made a map of its location in his little black book. He was a good man, a buddy, and under different circumstances he’d give up his life for him.

‘I don’t know what came over me, but somehow I killed him. Father, will I burn in Hell for a whole eternity?’

‘You surely will my son,’ and seeing the old man’s eyes popping out, ‘I meant no, of course not, you have nothing to worry about. Please continue.’

‘But surely I’ll have to atone for my sins?’

‘Let’s not get into a theological debate here, carry on, we’re wasting our time’.

‘But that’s all there is to it.’

‘What do you mean, where is the little book?!’

The old man’s head sinks back into the pillow and he goes quiet.

The priest goes red in the face, he grabs the old man.

‘Wake up, you old fool!’

The man slowly opens his eyes and utters faintly: ‘the Bible…’

‘What? You hid it in the Bible? Which one, where is it?’

The old man’s too weak to continue and seems to have dozed off.

The door suddenly swings open. The young man walks in.

‘Is everything alright? I heard shouting.’

‘Everything’s fine, I sometimes get carried away in prayer, you see..’

‘Of course, Father. How much longer will you need?’

‘Oh we’re quite finished here’.

He follows the young man out of the room.

‘How is he, Father?’

‘He’s fine. He’s resting now, we shouldn’t disturb him.’

‘I sure hope he hasn’t been too much trouble. He’s so horribly forgetful and just keeps telling the same old stories about his exploits in the war over and over.’

‘Oh no, we only discussed spiritual matters.’

‘I’m so grateful for your visit, Father. I am sure it was a great comfort to him.’

‘As a matter of fact, your father made a very specific request, most pious soul, an inspiration to us all!’

‘What is it, Father?’

‘He expressed a burning desire to be read from the Bible. Sadly, I left mine in the church.’

‘Oh I’m sure we can find one in the library. If you follow me, please.’

They enter the library.

‘What an amazing collection!’

‘Yes, Dad’s pride and joy’.

A doorbell rings out in the distance.

‘Excuse me a minute, Father, you’ll find a few copies in the Spiritual Section, down this aisle.’

As soon as the door shuts behind him, the priest leaps to action. There are lots of copies, in different languages. He yanks them out one by one and flicks through each one like a madman. He has gone through almost the entire row and nothing! Shaking all over, he grabs the last one, it’s a large volume and… the time stops, the blood in his whole body freezes instantly when his hand feels a slight bulge. He almost faints and must steady himself against the shelf. He rips it open and stares in utter disbelief at a little black book!

Now, when they say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, they’re lying – you don’t see anything. In its desperate struggle for life, your mind doesn’t have time to show colourful flicks (or B&W, depends on your life I guess). Unlike the death though, gold, or sometimes a mere mention of it, can send your imagination on a titillating journey. Father Brian’s daydreaming, typically consisting of a large screen TV and perhaps even extending to a sports car, has been miraculously upgraded to a whole new level: women, Champaign and a sunny beach – in that order.

A loud voice behind his back rudely snatched him out of his idyll.

‘I am sorry to keep you waiting, Father, something’s just come up, we must go.’

The young man is trying to extricate the book from the priest’s hands, but this is proving difficult.

‘But I was going to read to your father from Chapter 6.’

‘Father, I’m afraid we really must be going.’

The young man finally manages to the wrestle the Bible out of the priest’s clutches and puts it back on the shelf.

The priest’s mind is racing as the young man starts to gently guide him away from the shelf and towards the exit.

‘Are you planning to keep your father’s library after his departure?’

‘Father, he’s still with us!’

‘Of course, you’re right.’

‘Although, frankly, it’s more of a nuisance, if you ask me, we want the space for the salon.’

‘Could I make a suggestion? Your father’s books would be a most welcome addition to our modest parish library. I’ll just get my van.’

‘Well, come to think of it, why not? It’s getting late, why don’t you call us first thing tomorrow and we’ll make an arrangement?’

‘I could take some of them right now, the Spiritual Section perhaps..’

‘I’m so sorry, Father, I really cannot make the doctor wait any longer.’

‘Doctor? Would it be Dr Friedkin by any chance?’

‘Yes, that’s him. He’s been treating Dad lately, a most compassionate man, such a great company but above all a very sympathetic listener.’

‘Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Father.’

Before the priest can answer, he shuts the door in his face.

The last comment makes the priest painfully alarmed. ‘A sympathetic listener? He’s “listened” three wives into the ground! That scoundrel!’

He gets home and spends the whole nights tossing and turning on his bed, unable to sleep.

In the morning he is just about to step outside when he hears his phone ringing. It’s the young man.

‘Father, I’m afraid we have a change of plan’.

‘What do you mean?!’ His heart sinks.

‘You see, yesterday, just after his visit, the doctor expressed a very strong interest in our library, he said he had been an avid book collector all his life.’

‘A collector?! That quack can’t string a sentence together!’

‘Well, Father, be as it may, he made us a very substantial offer and we are rather inclined to take it.’

‘Just out of interest, how much is he offering, a $100.. $200? You name it, I’ll double it!’

‘Well, as it happens, he’s prepared to pay us a handsome $10,000 in cash.’

‘TEN THOUSAND?!!

‘I’m sorry, Father, I didn’t realise this would make you so upset.’

‘That’s outrageous! A broad daylight robbery!’

‘I take it you are not interested then?’

‘Oh, no, that’s not what I meant at all.’ The priest is chewing his lips. ‘I’ll get the money and see you in an hour.’

He slams the phone down and runs to the safe. He counts off $20,000 in cash and jumps in the van.

On the way he makes a quick stop-off outside doctor’s house and slashes all four of his tyres.

By the time the doctor finally makes it in a taxi, Father Brian is just about to get in the van clutching a large Bible close to his chest. An expression of heavenly bliss on his beaming face is enough to light a truckload of wets candles. The doctor, dishevelled and with crazy eyes, grabs the priest and attempts to pry the book out of his hands. There is a lot of swearing, the doctor is using words no one expected he knew, growling and scratching. At some point in the scuffle the priest manages to knee him quite badly, and while the doctor recovers, coiled up like a shrivelled shrimp in the middle of the road, the priest makes his getaway.

This was all the guy had the time to say when without any warning he slid under the table and passed out. The barman said this was normal so I didn’t bother to wake him, although I was quite keen to learn what happened in the end.

Now I don’t know how true this story is, the guy was an alcoholic after all, and the trouble with these types is as long as you keep their glass full, they’ll spin you a yarn long enough to wrap around the equator and back.

AFTERWARD

Many years later we happened to be driving through Southern Germany. During a stop at a road-side café we were stretching our legs and admiring the view when suddenly we saw a strange looking creature, dressed in what looked like a priest’s cassock emerge from the forest and make a lightning dash towards a guy eating a sandwich at a nearby table. He snatched the sandwich from the guy’s hand and raced back to the forest before anyone could do anything. While all the tourists watched in amazement, our waitress said not to worry – according to her it was common in these parts. She went on to say there are dozens of them out there and although they live in the forest like wild beasts, they are completely harmless. Locals say all they do is dig and pray. Police keeps rounding them up but they just keep coming.