Play@YSDC

St. Christopher's Church, Rittenhouse Square - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania
4:30 PM - Wednesday, July 16, 1969
Father Nathaniel Levington was at the pulpit in St. Christopher's Church, where he worked with Philadelphia's youth. It was late afternoon, and the church was currently empty apart from him and a custodial worker who was currently cleaning the office. A young man walked through the large, double oak doors at the front and walked down the aisle toward the altar, his footsteps echoing on the marble floor. Father Levington watched him as he passed between the pews. The youngster looked like many of the other people he had counseled over the years, probably a college student. He looked to be about twenty years old, with blond hair and a confident air about him. He wore a brown jacket and a backpack.

The man approached the altar and looked at the priest. He hesitated for a moment before he spoke. "Father, will you hear my confession?" he asked.

Levington stepped down from the pulpit and sat in the front row of pews near to the young man.

"Have a seat," he told him, gesturing.

He watched the youth intently, making eye contact, and waited for him to speak his mind.

The young man sat down in the pew. He clenched his hands together, gathering the courage to speak. "Father, I don't know when my last confession was," he said at last. "I've done a lot of bad things, but today I did something worse than all of them, and now there's no turning back. I...I took something that belonged to my dad."

OOC,[b]Nathaniel[/b], roll Psychology.

Nathaniel was a good student of human nature. Even though he had just met this youth, he could tell that the confidence was a mask, and inside he was nervous. He did seem to feel genuine remorse for having stolen from his father, and there was also a quiet desperation about him.

"Listen," Nathaniel said,

OOC,If his read of the young man makes him think its appropriate to do, he puts his arm around the youth's shoulder

.

"Before you go on, I want you to know that there is nothing from which there is no turning back. No matter what you've done, the Lord has forgiven someone who has done something worse. Say what you need to say."

"My dad's a big shot scientist," continued the young man. "Maybe God would forgive me, but my dad's another matter. If he ever finds out, he'll be furious at me. He made this new drug that lets you control your dreams, and I took some of it."

"I know it was a stupid thing to do," he said. "I don't know what I was thinking. I guess I thought he wouldn't notice it was missing, but I'm sure he has by now. I figured it had to be worth a fortune. I just have to hope he never finds out. What do I have to do for penance, Father?"

Father Levington sat back in the pew for a moment, gazing off at the stained glass of the Mother Mary at front of the chapel.

"I think the best thing you can do is to be honest with your father," Levington said, turing to face the boy. "Its the closest you can come to making amends, and as you said yourself, he must suspect something by now. This will clear the air between the two of you."

Although Levington's face was a placid mask, internally, a he struggled with himself. He'd learned a long time ago not to pry to deeply into other peoples buisness unless there was good cause, but the young mans words kept echoing in his head.

... control your dreams... he thought. What could that mean?

"You don't know him," said the youth. "If I told him, there'd be hell to pay. He'd never suspect me otherwise, but he's probably noticed the Morpheus is missing from the lab by now. He's observant, and he's always checking up on things."

"I'm sure there will be hell to pay. Actions have consequences, not all of them plesant, but that doesn't mean you should only do whats right when it's safe."

"And besides,sometimes parents will suprise you. If you told him what happened you'd be displaying honesty and maturity well beyond your peers. Or for that matter for people my age," he said, smiling. "Maybe your father will see that after the anger settles. You'd be showing a lot of guts."

"And if that doesn't work, tell him the priest has decided to enslave you for pennance. This church could use a good cleaning."

"Yes, Father," said the young man, lowering his head. The custodian gave him the cleaning supplies and called it a day, and the youth took over for him, giving the church a thorough cleaning. It was almost 6:00 by the time he finished. "I'm going to go have dinner now, Father. That was hungry work. I'll think about what you said, but I can't make any promises."

"Thats all I can ask." Levington replied. "Your a good man for even coming to me about this, and for wanting to set things right. Thank you for cleaning around here today."

He saw the youth to the door, wishing him a good night.

"Before you go, I didn't catch your name."

After the youth replied he retired to his study in the back of the church, reading scripture and other literature till ten o'clock. After the hour became late enough that he was certain no-one else might wish to come to the church that evening, he locked the doors and took the long walk home. Along the way he said a prayer for the young man, and thought on the things he had said.

OOC,Obviously, if you want anything to happen before he leaves for the night, just interupt me.

OOC,Something probably will be happening during the evening. You may have to wait a while for events in some of the other threads to catch up to that point.

"You're welcome, Father," said the youth. "My name is Brian. Brian Anderson." He shook the priest's hand. Before he left, he paused and turned back. "Can I have your phone number, in case I need to talk to you?"

Father Levington reached over into one of the pews and pulled out an attendance card and a pencil and scribbled down a few numbers.

215-673-5177

267-465-9920

"This first one is the Church's number, you can connect to my office through that. This other one is my home phone. Feel free to call me any time, night or day. I've got answering machines on both, so if I'm not around, leave a message for me."

After the youth went on his way, Levington retired to his office to do some reading he'd neglected during the day. Somewhat bleary eyed, he read for a little while and fell promptly asleep in his office easy chair.

OOC,Area code 267 did not exist until 1997, so your home number would probably also be 215.

Father Levington was awakened by his office telephone ringing. A glance at the clock showed him that it was 7:40 PM.

Levington sat up, bleary eyed, and picked up the phone.

"Hello?" he said in a muggy voice.

A familiar young male voice answered. He sounded distraught. "Father, it's me," he said. "Brian Anderson. I...I'm in big trouble. I need your help."

"What's wrong Brian?" Levington asked, snapping awake.