Catching the Bishop
- 2 years ago
- 13
- 0
Good Medicine - Sophomore YearChapter 43: Bishop ARKADY free porn video
January 21, 1983, McKinley, Ohio
Light snow was falling as Angie and I left Doctor Blahnik’s house to walk back to the dorm.
“That was fun,” Angie said.
“Sorry about the minor indiscretion.”
“It’s OK, Mike. Why would she assume otherwise? She knows we run together, pray together, and go to church together. Why do you think everyone calls me ‘Mrs. Loucks’?”
“But still...”
“She’s just very open and a lot of fun. I wish more professors were like her, even if she made me turn purple!”
“I was going to say, ‘fourteen shades of red’,” I chuckled.
“You’re just about as open and free as she is, though with a bit more, well, decorum, I guess.”
“Would you want your doctor to be someone you couldn’t talk to?”
“No, I guess not.”
“I wasn’t like this before — I was pretty quiet and reserved. Melody and Janey helped me break out of that shell, if you will. And they were both right about the fact that my old personality would have interfered with being a good doctor.”
“May I say something about that?” Angie asked.
“Always.”
“I’m kind of torn. I liked the quiet, thoughtful Mike a lot. The open, free one scares me a bit.”
“I didn’t realize.”
“It’s OK. Doctor Blahnik is right. You need to be the way you are to be a good doctor.”
I decided to try something and reached down and gently took Angie’s gloved hand in mine. She didn’t pull away, so I held her hand as we walked the last block, letting go when I opened the door to the dorm. We went upstairs, said our evening prayers as we’d planned, and then I walked her to her room. Angie hugged me and gave me another soft kiss, then went into her room. I walked back to my room to find Sandy, Sophia, and Clarissa waiting for me.
“A foursome?” I grinned. “Awesome!”
“He can be a real pig at times,” Sophia laughed. “But I think we should keep him.”
“I think he just wants to ‘one up’ the usual stupid male fantasy of two girls at once,” Sandy said with a silly grin.
“Ask him what he thinks of a girl being with two guys!” Sophia laughed. “That’s when you discover that it’s all about HIM!”
“I have no interest in being in bed with another guy,” I chuckled. “Under any circumstances. I’ll leave that to Robby and Lee! Is that YOUR fantasy, Ms. Vasilakis?”
“I haven’t had enough to drink to tell you my fantasies!” Sophia laughed.
“I think we need to get a bottle!” I grinned.
“That would be a BAD idea,” Clarissa said. “Dean Parker.”
“Fuck her!” Sandy spat.
“No thanks!” I chuckled. “Besides, I hear she likes girls.”
“I have a million bucks that says that’s political,” Sophia said.
“Oh, come on,” I said. “Sexual orientation isn’t something you just decide one day!”
“Does anyone know if she actually HAS a girlfriend?” Sophia asked. “We know she’s divorced, but nothing more.”
“So it’s what? An act?” I asked.
“Maybe,” Sophia replied. “I don’t think you can trust a word she says about anything. Every single thing she says or does is to further her agenda. You know, Rules for Radicals? She’s the most political person I’ve ever seen in my life. It infuses her entire being. So who knows?”
“I hadn’t considered that, but then again, I’m not really concerned about Dean Parker’s sex life, or lack thereof! I am, on the other hand, concerned about her interfering with MY sex life!”
“I think we’ll stop interfering,” Clarissa laughed. “Come on, Sophia. Let’s go find the boys. Well, unless you’re going to fulfill the pig’s fantasy!”
“In his DREAMS!” Sophia laughed. “Besides, I think Sandy has the same objection Mike does in that regard.”
“Sex isn’t a team sport!” Sandy laughed. “Well, a team of two! Not three or more! And it’s sure as heck isn’t a spectator sport!”
“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Clarissa laughed. “Let the two get it out of their system before curfew!”
Sophia and Clarissa both hugged me, and then Sandy and I went into my bedroom where we quickly had our clothes off and got into bed. After thirty minutes of foreplay and fooling around, we cuddled so I could recover.
“I hate that I have to go back to my room,” Sandy groused.
“Just for a month. We’ll manage. Not that I’m planning this anytime soon, but what happens when I do decide to settle down?”
“Hopefully that’ll be about the time I’m ready to find someone who’ll be able to put up with me being in medical school. You and I are pretty damned good at this, though I don’t have anything to really compare it to! But I could never be religious the way you are. That means it has to end at some point. Did something change?”
“Angie’s trying to figure out if she can really move forward,” I said.
“You mean Mrs. Loucks might actually decide it’s OK to have sex with her husband?” Sandy laughed.
“I think she’s trying to figure out if that’s what she wants, yes. But I wonder if she’s going to be able to overcome her emotional troubless.”
“You think she’s going to end up a spinster with a dozen cats?”
“That thought had crossed my mind, and others have said the same thing. Doctor Hart told me that some people, and this is rare, are simply asexual. Others derive no pleasure from sex or are completely uninterested. That’s also fairly rare. But both things are possible. Obviously, he isn’t her therapist, so he can’t know for sure. And I might not be the most reliable reporter.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I see things through my own lens. I don’t know what she’s really thinking. I have to make guesses based on what she does and what she tells me. With you and Clarissa, for example, we talk about pretty much anything and say what’s on our minds. That’s not Angie. Of course, then there’s Janey who is about as outspoken as Melody, if not more.”
“No way!” Sandy laughed. “That’s not the kind of person you should marry.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, from everything I’ve seen, you much prefer girls who are like you used to be — quiet and reserved. Both Tasha and Angie are like that.”
I laughed, “You have no idea! You don’t really know Tasha. She may be prim and proper, but the LAST thing I’d say about her is that she’s ‘quiet and reserved’. She’s the epitome of a Russian woman, and she’s under the tutelage of a bunch of Russian women who no sane man would EVER tangle with or cross!”
“Angie?”
“There I’ll agree with you, though in private she’s a lot more open than she is with the rest of the gang around. But I was kind of like that, too. In the past, I was pretty open in certain limited situations. But most people saw me as the quiet, reserved, chess-playing nerd.”
“So Janey is a serious possibility?”
“Sure. The difference between Janey and Tasha is merely one of methods! I think you’re confused because my attitudes have changed pretty significantly from when we first started doing this.”
Sandy laughed, “You still can’t say ‘fuck’, can you?”
I chuckled, “Fuck.”
“Yes, please!”
We did, and as it was 10:45pm when we finished, we got out of bed, put on robes, kissed ‘good night’ and went to the showers.
January 22, 1983, McKinley, Ohio
“Master, Bless!” I said, holding out my hands, cupped together, palms upwards, for the bishop’s blessing.
“Bless you, Mikhail Petrovich,” Vladyka ARKADY said. “Please, sit.”
I sat down in one of the comfortable leather chairs in Father Nicholas’ office, with the bishop sitting in a similar chair beside the one I was in.
“When is the last time we spoke, Mikhail Petrovich?” he asked.
“I saw you when you came to McKinley last year, but I think the last time we actually spoke in detail when I was made head acolyte at Holy Transfiguration. Three years ago, I believe.”
“That was my recollection as well. I understand from Father Herman and Father Nicholas that your studies are going well.”
“Yes, they are.”
“Good. A doctor is the secular counterpart to the bishop as a healer, but I believe a doctor must also look out for the spiritual health of his patients. That is the Orthodox perspective.”
I nodded, “Yes, and I was speaking to my guidance counselor about exactly that — treating the whole person, not just the disease or injury.”
“Are you involved with a young woman?”
“I date, Vladyka, but I’m not committed to anyone, despite the best efforts of the «бабушки»!”
The bishop laughed softly, “They are a force to be reckoned with. May I ask who they have paired you with? In their minds, of course.”
“Natalya Vasilyevna Antonova,” I said with a smile.
“A fine young woman from a wonderful family. While it is not my place to say who you should marry, you could do far, far worse, Mikhail Petrovich!”
“Your Grace is aware of the rigors of medical school training, and the difficulty that presents to having a family?”
“I am. My brother is a doctor in Paris, though the European system is not quite so grueling as the one here.”
“I feel I need to raise a concern which might affect the rest of our conversation.”
“Go on.”
“Part of standard medical training involves learning how to do certain procedures which can be medically necessary, but which can also be misused.”
“Abortion,” he said grimly.
“Yes. I feel I need to learn the procedures so that, in an emergency situation, I can care for any patient who might come into the hospital. Obviously, I don’t know all the possibilities, but for example, in the case of a miscarriage, the same procedure is used to ensure the mother does not die from some complication.”
“Would you be required to perform elective abortions?”
I shook my head, “Not in any of the programs I’m looking into. They all allow conscience to override that part of the training. I would learn the procedures, but I would never, ever, perform an elective abortion.”
“But how would the training happen?”
“I don’t know, Vladyka. I suspect it would involve participating in one or more elective abortions.”
He took a deep breath and let it out, “This is a dilemma we face in many places around the world, where the training is required. My brother bishops, for the most part, have elected to treat it as one does a soldier who kills during war. You know how that is handled, don’t you?”
“Yes, Your Grace — confession and a one-year restriction on receiving the Eucharist. Killing is killing, even if necessary in self-defense or defense of your family and loved ones.”
“Correct, Mikhail Petrovich. It is similar to the rule that any clergyman who is responsible for the death of another is laicized, including bishops. It’s why I do not drive my own car, for example. Even an accident could be seen as taking a life, and it is easier for my own conscience simply to have someone drive me when necessary.”
“What would happen when a patient dies? If I made a mistake, for example?”
“The Church has almost always left that to the doctor himself. If you made an honest mistake, then you would confess, and your spiritual father would work out the best way to deal with it. If, on the other hand, you acted with malice, or negligent carelessness, then I think your own conscience would tell you the correct course of action. But I don’t expect either of those to happen with you, Mikhail Petrovich.
“You know the Church draws very few bright lines, and the ones that are drawn are expressed by the bishops coming together in an Ecumenical Council. Everything else is open to the discretion of the bishop, through the choice of «ακριβεια» («akriveia») or «οἰκονομία» («ekonomia»), applying discernment about what is best for the management of the House of God or, as it is usually put in Christian terms — shepherding the flock. I’m sure you’ve experienced this.”
I nodded, “Yes, of course. Mostly with regard to my fasting rule because of eating in the cafeteria, but a few other times as well. And I know about the baptism rules, as well, which is usually the thing about which all the discussion takes place.”
“I can’t think of a single topic which causes more dissension amongst the various jurisdictions than that one! Everything from the very lenient attitude of Metropolitan Philip of the Antiochians to the extreme legalism of some of the Greek Old Calendarists. We take a more middle ground, and usually do what we feel is best for the individual.”
“Has Father Nicholas spoken to you about my friend Angie?”
“Angela? Yes. She’s Roman Catholic, so our traditional practice is to receive her by simply saying the Creed without the Western addition, renouncing the Roman heresies, and reception of Eucharist.”
“No chrism?”
“She was confirmed, according to Father Nicholas, so «ekonomia» allows that. If she prefers, we can apply chrism. Father Nicholas will speak to her about that. I’ll accept his advice on that.”
“What will you have me do, Your Grace?”
“Are you aware of any impediments which prevent you from serving as a member of one of the minor orders of clergy?”
“I’m a sinner.”
“If that were an impediment, Mischa, none of us would be able to serve,” he said, sounding more like a friend than my bishop.
“Then no, Vladyka, I’m not aware of anything.”
He smiled, “You’re a good Orthodox man, Mikhail Petrovich. Both priests you have had as your spiritual father speak highly of you. You’ve served faithfully as an acolyte since you were seven, and served as head acolyte, with my blessing, for three years before you left for college. I would like to ordain you a subdeacon. In the usual practice, I’ll tonsure you a reader first, and then at a later time, ordain you a subdeacon. And I will grant you «ekonomia» to marry after your ordination as subdeacon, which in modern times, I have the right to do. Will you do this?”
“As you command, Vladyka.”
“Good. We can do the tonsuring as a reader tomorrow morning. Matushka Natalya will measure you for a cassock and vestments. They’re made by a family outside of Chicago, and it usually takes about four to six weeks. By my reckoning, we could perform the ordination on Holy Saturday, which I believe is the day Angela will be received into the church.”
“Here, or at the cathedral in Columbus?”
“I’ll make a special trip on Holy Saturday morning. We always tonsure and ordain at the home parish except in extreme circumstances. I’d like you to attend me tonight during Vespers. It shows the congregation that I approve of you, which I will also say when I make the announcement.”
“How shall I prepare?”
“Fast tonight, as you normally would. Pray for God’s mercy and grace. Nothing more is necessary.”
“I will. May I use the parish telephone?”
“Of course. Are you calling your parents?”
“Yes. And Natalya Vasilyevna. If I don’t call her, I’ll need a memorial service, not a tonsuring!”
Bishop ARKADY laughed, “I was a young man once, and I understand. I will say this, Mischa, if she has her sights set on you, and is as determined as her mother, there is no hope! Simply abandon yourself to fate! Unless, of course, you wish a memorial service!”
I laughed, surprised at how familiar the bishop was being, but in less than twenty-four hours, I’d be a member of his clergy. It was a minor order, but it was still clergy. I went to the desk and dialed home, happy I caught my mom before she and my dad left for Vespers.
“Bishop ARKADY is going to tonsure me as a reader in the morning,” I said after we exchanged greetings.
“Should I say ‘congratulations’ or ‘condolences’?” Mom teased.
“That remains to be seen!”
“I’ll let Father Herman know, and your dad and I will come to McKinley in the morning. I’ll call your grandfather as well. Is the tonsuring at the usual time?”
“Yes, between Matins and Liturgy.”
“We’ll be there. I’ll see if I can get Liz to come along.”
“Let me talk to her, if she’s there.”
“She and Mindy went out today. If she refuses, I’ll call your room later, OK?”
“Sure. Thanks. I’m going to call Tasha next.”
“Not first? Interesting.”
“Nobody is more important than you are, Mom!” I chuckled.
“Yeah, right!” she laughed. “See you in the morning.”
We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up and dialed Tasha’s house. Her mom answered, and I explained why I was calling. She congratulated me and then called Tasha to the phone.
“Tomorrow? Already?” she asked when I told her.
“As a reader,” I said. “The next step is on Holy Saturday, Lord willing.”
“I’ll need to speak with my dad; I want to be there tomorrow. Hopefully THIS will get his mind straight!”
“That’s still a sore point?” I asked, careful because the bishop was sitting a few feet away.
“Yes. He is giving me the benefit of the doubt, but I don’t think he trusts me. But now, with you as a minor clergyman, what could he possibly say?”
“Hopefully, nothing. I hope to see you tomorrow. And on Holy Saturday.”
“You can be sure I’ll be there when you are made a subdeacon!” she said fiercely.
I thought about how much I would hate to be Deacon Vasily if he tried to prevent Tasha from coming to that service. Something told me that Tasha would not be denied. Of course, the bishop felt the same way with regard to her desire to marry me, which meant I might be in the same boat!
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tasha.”
“I’m very happy for you, Mishka!”
We said ‘goodbye’ and I hung up.
Blaze
- 31.08.2021
- 16
- 0
