Page 75 of Avenue of Mysteries


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"Why would you--you of all people, given what happened to you--choose a death idea over a life idea?" Clark had asked his former teacher. And now Clark was suggesting (again) that Juan Diego should go back to Mexico--just to visit!

"You know why I won't go back, Clark," Juan Diego once more answered, limping along the second-floor balcony. (Another time, when he'd had too much beer, Juan Diego had said to Clark: "Mexico is in the hands of criminals and the Catholic Church.")

"Don't tell me you blame the Church for AIDS--you're not saying safe sex is the answer to everything, are you?" Clark now asked his former teacher. This was not a very skillfully veiled reference, Juan Diego knew--not that Clark was necessarily trying to veil his references.

Juan Diego remembered how Clark had called condom use "propaganda." Clark was probably paraphrasing Pope Benedict XVI. Hadn't Benedict said something to the effect that condoms "only exacerbate" the AIDS problem? Or was that what Clark had said?

And now, because Juan Diego hadn't answered Clark's question about safe sex solving everything, Clark kept pressing the Benedict point: "Benedict's position--namely, that the only efficient way to combat an epidemic is by spiritual renovation--"

"Clark!" Juan Diego cried. "All 'spiritual renovation' means is more of the same old family values--meaning heterosexual marriage, meaning nothing but sexual abstention before marriage--"

"Sounds to me like one way to slow down an epidemic," Clark said slyly. He was as doctrinaire as ever!

"Between your Church's unfollowable rules and human nature, I'll bet on human nature," Juan Diego said. "Take celibacy--" he began.

"Maybe after the children and the teenagers have gone to bed," Clark reminded his former teacher.

They were alone on the balcony, and it was New Year's Eve; Juan Diego was pretty sure that the teenagers would be up later than the adults, but all he said was: "Think about pedophilia, Clark."

"I knew it! I knew that was next!" Clark said excitedly.

In his Christmas address in Rome--not even two weeks ago--Pope Benedict XVI had said that pedophilia was considered normal as recently as the 1970s. Clark knew that would have made Juan Diego hot under the collar. Now, naturally, his former teacher was up to his old tricks, quoting the pope as if the entire realm of Catholic theology were to blame for Benedict's suggesting there was no such thing as evil in itself or good in itself.

"Clark, Benedict said there is only a 'better than' and a 'worse than'--that's what your pope said," Clark's former teacher was telling him.

"May I remind you that the statistics on pedophilia outside the Church, in the general population, are exactly the same as the statistics inside the Church?" Clark French said to Juan Diego.

"Benedict said: 'Nothing is good or bad in itself.' He said nothing, Clark," Juan Diego told his former student. "Pedophilia isn't nothing; surely pedophilia is 'bad in itself,' Clark."

"After the children have--"

"There are no children here, Clark!" Juan Diego shouted. "We're alone, on a balcony!" he cried.

"Well--" Clark French said cautiously, looking all around; they could hear the voices of children somewhere, but no children (not even teenagers, or other adults) were anywhere in sight.

"The Catholic hierarchy believes kissing leads to sin," Juan Diego whispered. "Your Church is against birth control, against abortion, against gay marriage--your Church is against kissing, Clark!"

Suddenly, a swarm of small children ran past them on the balcony; their flip-flops made a slapping sound and their wet hair gleamed.

"After the little ones have gone to bed--" Clark French began again; conversation was a competition with him, akin to a combat sport. Clark would have made an indefatigable missionary. Clark had that Jesuitical "I know everything" way about him--always the emphasis on learning and evangelizing. The mere thought of his own martyrdom probably motivated Clark. He would happily suffer, just to make an impossible point; if you abused him, he would smile and thrive.

"Are you all right?" Clark was asking Juan Diego.

"I'm just a little out of breath--I'm not used to limping this fast," Juan Diego told him. "Or limping and talking, together."

They slowed their pace as they descended the stairs and made their way to the main lobby of the Encantador, where the dining room was. There was an overhanging roof to the hotel restaurant, and a rolled-up bamboo curtain that could be lowered as a barrier against wind and rain. The openness to the palm trees and the view of the sea gave the dining room the feeling of a spacious veranda. There were paper party hats at all the tables.

What a big family Clark French had married into! Juan Diego was thinking. Dr. Josefa Quintana must have had thirty or forty relatives, and more than half of them were children or young people.

"No one expects you to remember everyone's name," Clark whispered to Juan Diego.

"About the mystery guest," Juan Diego said suddenly. "She should sit next to me."

"Next to you?" Clark asked him.

"Certainly. All of you hate her. At least I'm neutral," Juan Diego told Clark.

"I don't hate her--no one knows her! She's inserted herself into a family--"

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