But as he looked at the basin, which seemed to have damp marks at the bottom, he had the feeling that the holy water had not been kept in the font the whole time. Still, the priest probably would not lie to him. Though he could not help feeling suspicious, he was much more at ease than he would have been just reading scripture.
"Father, may I go to the confessional? And Psalm 91—how long do I need to read it before it can protect me?" Jeff asked.
"Of course you may. As for how long..."
"About seven times should do it. If you still don't feel safe, read it in sets of seven a few more times. When you feel even a trace of peace in your heart, that means you have been sheltered."
"Thank you, Father!" Jeff turned and entered the enclosed confessional.
Ron set down the basin of "holy water" and quickly headed to the underground chamber in the backyard.
Inside, two little girls in pink and white dresses were imprisoned in cages.
Several decades ago, such cages had specifically been used to punish nuns who broke the rules. But this church had declined thirty years earlier, following the migration of the population and the construction of a new church in the city center.
Inside the cages, the two girls, once timid, gradually became expressionless.
Their eyes grew increasingly hateful!
"Father, let us go. This is imprisonment. You will face severe punishment for this," the two girls said in unison, their voices low.
They spoke as though sleep-talking.
"I'm afraid you cannot leave. What a pity... I cannot save you. It is my own incompetence!" The priest looked at the two little girls, his eyes moist.
He traced a cross over his chest, then began reciting passages