I.
Raye always came into the inn from the alley. She always felt the sunnier, worthier people deserved to come up the porch steps and in the front door as if they were announced. Hands stuck in cargopant pockets, the fireyhaired woman didn't pay the smoker against the alley wall much heed-- at first. Until she saw what it was she thought he was wearing and came to a screeching hault.
The man was a priest. He was pacing back and forth, kicking loose stones with his Converse sneakers. Sure, it wasn't the usual getup for a priest but the little white collar? That was impossible to miss. The flask Raye was swigging from dropped to her side, she stared.
The priest gave her a smile as he half-hid his cigarette and stepped aside for her. "Excuse me, miss." Raye was too busy blinking at him to really take notice of the cigarette and then she scoffed at the priest before she realized what she was doing. She had to show more respect! Her eyes went wide and she shook her head a touch.
"No, no, not in my way." The flask was tucked in thered leather jacket it was way too warm to be wearing. She looked him over once more and then her mouth fell open. Raye was rarely speechless. Finally, she shook some sense into her head and found words. You, you new here? I mean... never seen a priest 'round these parts in my ten or so years."
She wasn't ready to walk on by him. It was like he was a sign from God himself. A beacon in her lost life. A thousand other cliche`'s all wrapped up into one very shocked look.
"Oh, no, hardly. I uh... " He paused and looked around, then took another hit of the cigarette, a bit like he was trying to finish it a bit quicker with someone else around. "I was taking a walk, and I thought I'd stop off and... well, you know." Holding up the cigarette, he looked a bit bashful and tried his best at a smile. "Horrible habit, I know."
Raye laughed and patted where her flask had went. "Mine's worse." She crooked him a smile. "At least yours doesn't make you an arse." And then she winced. Watch the language around the priest, Raye! A sheepish smile, almost childlike-- which was bizarre for the older woman. "Never seen no church either. You just shocked me." He eyed the spot that she had patted, but didn't seem to approve or disapprove really.
"There used to be a big cathedral downtown, but I was... put out, as it were. But I understand the shock -- there are very few of us." Sticking the cigarette in his mouth, he let it hang there and offered his hand. "I'm Josiah." Raye couldn't help but mentally snicker at how appropriate of a name that was for a priest. One of Raye's hand came out to meet his, the complete one-- all fingers there and accounted for. The other, that one was stuck in her pocket away from sight.
Raye shook his hand once, firm, before drawing her hand back to herself. "RayeAnne, but most cal me Raye." She sent him the woman's version of a knaveish grin.
"It's nice to meet you, Raye." He looked around him for a moment and took one last puff on the cigarette before flicking it aside. "I don't often get the time to go out and meet someone new. It's refreshing in a way." Josiah laughed a bit to himself, likely running some kind of personal commentary in his head. But, in any case, he was speaking the truth, and at least it was a nice day to be standing around and sharing bad habits.
Raye drew out her flask, unscrewed it and took a swig of the whiskey inside, she offered it out to him with the hand missing its ringfinger. That's why she was hiding it-- is anything screamed divorce it was a completely severed left ring finger. "I often meet new people, they just rarely like me." Mirth in her voice as she spoke.
Josiah held up a hand at the offer and shook his head. "No, but thank you for offering." If there was one thing he wasn't, it was the drinking type. Mainly because he was horrible at holding his alcohol, and he certainly didn't want to make a fool of himself. "Tolerance is something everyone could use a little lesson in. I, myself, feel that if you're willing to share your habit, you can't be too unlikable." There was a wink there, and it was obvious that he was getting somewhere near his comfort zone.
That caused a bit of a laugh that shook her shoulders and crikled the crows feet at her eyes. She shook her head a little at his words. "I've never known a drunk that didn't share." She pauses and glances down the alley; the sun was starting to fall and shadows overtake it. "This isn't much the place for a man of God. Unless he is out seeking to save the godless. Are you here to save my soul?" It was hard to tell if she were kidding or not.
He seemed to be considering that question for a moment -- very seriously, in fact. Rubbing at his face, he looked Raye straight in the eyes and held it for a moment before continuing on. "I would never attempt to save someone who didn't fully wish to be saved; however, if you're asking for my help, I am more the obliged to offer it. " And there was another pause before he looked around the alley. "A dark alley does just as well as any church these days."
Eye contact made her uncomfortable it was so rare. But she wasn't one to back down, so she stared right back. Those vibrant greens held little in the way of answers. "I'm afraid I may be beyond saving." Raye paused for a moment, her voice cool and cold in its timbre. "I often wonder if my soul is even left."
"If you're walking and talking, then there's probably something there. Of course, I'm obligated to tell you that if you repent for your sins and ask for forgiveness then there's a spot for you in Heaven, but I get the feeling you may already know that." Maybe he's gotten a little too laid back, but considering the many different religions he was at least somewhat familiar with, it was no wonder that he was willing to skimp a bit on his own.
Raye nodded slowly, pulling a small golden cross on a chain out from under her shirt to gisten in what was left of the sunlight. "I know." It was a grim answer to what should have been a hopeful statement. "It's being ready to repent that worries me." Raye was not an open person, but tortured she was and a priest was like a let out your pain free card.
He looked around for a place to sit, and then decided against the wall would be good enough. Gesturing to a spot of pavement next to him, he looked up at her. "I'm assuming that you're saying you're not ready yet? Either that, or you're telling me that you're ready, but you think it might be too late."
She leaned on the wall and slid down it slowly to come to a crouch, then letting her booted feet slid forward she sat in what was a modified fetal position, arms wrapping around her legs. Raye looked small. Rarity as it were. "I'm not sure I'm sorry." She said it softly. "And I've done terrible things, so maybe it is too late." Her head turned and hair moved with it so that she could see him sitting next to her.
"God is a very forgiving, Raye. He... is very vengeful, but very forgiving -- sometimes even moreso then you would imagine when you need forgiveness the most." Josiah pulled his knees up to half-mirror her position and leaned his arms over his knees.
"Don't you have to ask to be forgiven?" She reached up to sccratch at an itch on her face. "How do you even begin to be ready to ask?" Her shoulders raised and fell.
"You do, yes. But asking doesn't always mean that you have to say it outloud, or even realizing that you're asking for it. While I can't imagine what sort of things you might not be sorry about, I do know that a step towards redemption is being willing to say that you have done something -- not even saying it's wrong, but acknowledging that it was something." He glanced over at her and smiled. "Does that make sense?"
Raye tilted her head as she thought. "I have done many things. Horrible things. I have doled out judgement without the right." It was hard for her to say, something she never really had. "I lost my way years ago." Another swig from the flask and she leaned her head forward, arms draped over her knees.
"Do you want to find your way again?" It was a simple question, but it seemed to be the crux of the conversation at this point. He most certainly wasn't trying to push her; just trying his best to help without being too invasive.