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His Warming Aura
By Emily Faerber
There are certain people that change the entire atmosphere when they enter a room, announcing their presence with their auras before they are even seen or heard. Father Malachi was one such person. Although the Cardinal commanded holy reverence and retribution, everyone knew the moment Father Malachi quietly stepped into the room. Electric warmth swept through the air, and all the people there knew that everything was going to be okay.
Father Malachi seemed to be completely unaware of the situation as he walked up to the Cardinal, handing him his handkerchief as he said, “Be careful, your Holiness. If it had been red wine, it would have stained.”
Father Tristan and Mother Rosetta watched anxiously, Mother Rosetta’s hand resting firmly on the errant teen’s shoulder. Lyra hovered close by, studying their faces. She had been the one to suggest summoning Father Malachi, but not because she had wanted to gain their approval or remedy the misdeed. Instead, she wanted everyone else to know, as she knew, that Father Malachi was an amazing person.
The Cardinal slowly took the handkerchief and dabbed at the front of his robes, studying Father Malachi as he did so. His expression clearly told that he did not recognize him, that he hadn’t even been aware that there was another Priest at the school, yet he obviously sensed Father Malachi’s effect and was proceeding with caution.
“Thank you, Father,” the Cardinal said, looking around until he spotted the teenage boy with Mother Rosetta. “But I’m afraid I did not spill on myself by accident. That child deliberately pushed me.”
“Your Holiness, that is most unfortunate. And you know for a fact that the boy pushed you, instead of accidentally bumping into you?”
“Yes, Father . . .”
“Father Malachi.” He put out his hand.
“Father Malachi,” the Cardinal repeated, briefly grasping Father Malachi’s hand in his own. “I saw the devilish light in his eyes when he performed the act. Such disrespect in one of our schools . . .”
“If I may, your Holiness, say that perhaps this is a test from God? Is it possible that He wishes to see your power of forgiveness over such a trivial matter? As I said before it is white wine, it will not stain.”
“It’s not a matter of the wine or forgiveness! One of our youth had the audacity to disrespect one of God’s chosen leaders, and it brings into question the reputability of this school.”
He had said it; Father Malachi had been unable to prevent him from doing so. Despite that, the air remained calm. Mother Rosetta’s grip on the teenager had even relaxed.
“If your Holiness would look at the rest of the students, then he would know that this is a very good school. Father Tristan and Mother Rosetta do a wonderful job at running it. They have even managed to take in my troublesome orphan and turn her into a magnificent young lady–”
Lyra wanted to snicker, but she bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from doing so. True, she didn’t sass as much as she used to, but the reason the whole thing had happened was because David had been preventing her master plan from commencing, which did include red wine.
“–I believe this is a trial from God to test our ability to forgive and repent. The boy is a good child, I can promise you that, and Father Tristan along with Mother Rosetta will deal with him themselves. It is your Holiness’s duty to continue on with the mission that has sent him here.”
Confusion was evident in the Cardinal’s eyes. He was torn between agreeing with Father Malachi’s words, and wanting to hold onto his anger. Finally, Father Malachi’s logic won over. “Yes, of course, Father Malachi.” He hesitated. “Will you join me for dinner this evening? I would like to discuss these matters with you further.”
“I will, your Holiness, and I shall be delighted.”
“Very well then.” The Cardinal dabbed one last time at his robes, flicked the handkerchief out, and handed it back to Father Malachi. “I shall continue with my inspection.”
“Until this evening, your Holiness.” Stepping to the side, Father Malachi motioned for the Cardinal to pass him, then looked over at Lyra. His expression froze the grin on her face.
“You are in big trouble, missy!” he said as soon as the Cardinal was out of the room.
“But Father!” Lyra protested. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Please forgive me, Father and Mother, for not being able to control her better.” Father Malachi grabbed Lyra’s arm. “Ask David, and he will tell the whole story to you.” With that, Father Malachi pulled Lyra away, taking with him the warmth of his aura, but leaving a buzz of excitement.
