“I have conferred with advisors on the entire subjects of sex, birth, and population. I have meditated long on it, supported by the Holy Spirit. And I here and now pronounce and decree a new policy of the Holy Church. And it is, that family planning—including artificial contraception!—may henceforth be discussed with parishioners by any pastor of the Church. The word is discussed. Parishioners are free to use artificial contraception without endangering their immortal soul. I repeat: without endangering their immortal soul! This far I am willing to go without further discussion. And this policy is not subject to the judgement of any bishop or priest.”
[The pope once more pauses.]
“With that I leave you to your thoughts and prayers. You, I—we are all children of God. God is in you as well as in heaven. Pray to him for guidance and wisdom, and when he touches you, whispers to you, heed him! All of us, ordained and lay, have been part of the problem. Begin now—if you have not already—begin now to be part of the solution.”
[He once more makes the sign of the cross.]
“May the love and wisdom of God settle upon you, guide you, and give you peace.”
45
Cold rain was falling when Lee Shoreff arrived at SeaTac airport, south of Seattle. An employee of Millennium’s Seattle Center drove her through rush-hour freeway traffic to the city’s near north side, and her hotel. The director had planned to pick her up himself, the man said, but his daughter had taken sick, and he’d gone home.
Lee asked if it always rained in Seattle. Only from October through March, he answered laughing. During the rest of the year they sometimes even glimpsed the sun. Actually, he corrected, July and August were sunny, and it didn’t rain much at all. In fact, Seattle was an easy place to like: friendly, lushly green, and seldom hot. And never very cold; certainly not to him, who’d grown up in Pittsburgh.
After she checked in, he carried her two bags to her 15th-floor room, and asked if there was anything she needed. When she assured him there wasn’t, he left.
Opening her drapes, Lee peered eastward through her rain-battered, room-width window, across a cityscape rich in fir trees and vague with rain. Not far away was a lake the color of lead, extending for miles. Somewhere out there, she supposed, were mountains. On the Ranch she’d gotten used to sunny days, and mountains sharply seen.
She decided she didn’t care for Seattle, at least not today, and reclosed her drapes. The digital display on her TV wall screen read 4:43 p.m. She activated the set, then opened her two bags and began to hang up clothes. At the periphery of her attention, a male voice accompanied the viewing menu, sounding totally inane. Finally she took off her shoes, racked herself back on a recliner with the remote in her hand, and paged through the menu with the sound turned off: sports, with submenus for college and professional, and sub-submenus for basketball and hockey. Other menus covered movies; politics; news. . . . None of it attracted her. Finally she called up a book, a romance, something she rarely read. It wasn’t bad, actually, though steamier than she needed.
At 6:30 she tabbed the page and turned off the screen. Her stomach had informed her it was hungry. She changed her clothes and renewed her makeup, then left the room, following wall arrows to the elevator bay. The elevator shaft was a glass-walled semi-cylinder. It was past sundown, and the afternoon’s gloomy daylight had faded nearly to night. Rain still fell, though thinly now.
By contrast, the hotel restaurant was bright, diners’ conversations light and lively around her, the hostess cheery. “One?” the young woman asked.
“Yes, please.”
There were not a lot of diners. The Hard Times. As she followed the woman among tables, she realized she hadn’t brought a book to read while waiting. Ever since college she’d made a practice of carrying one in her purse when she traveled, for restaurant and airport waits, but had taken it out while looking for something else.
“Lee!”
She stopped at the call, looked around, and saw Duke Cochran gesturing an invitation from a window table. She put a hand on the hostess’s arm. “I see a friend over there,” she said.