Episode transcript - “FORGIVE RED LINE PART 2”
FR. BEN: (in a bad Boston accent) Any, any particular… particular…
[MUSIC: “Charlie on the MTA”/“Forgive Me! Theme” mashup plays.]
FR. BEN: (in a bad Boston accent) Dude, I’ve only been here two days, the accent’s got me wicked hard.
MULTIPLE VOICES: Forgive—
Forgive—
Forgive—
Red Line!
[Music ends.]
CONSCIENTIOUS OBJECTORS
[MUSIC: Quick, staccato keyboards play as the Underground theme appears.]
[SFX: St. Ethan’s continues to ride through Red Line. A crowd chatters as they await their confessions with Father Ben.]
CHUCK: Welcome back to St. Ethan’s Cathedral where, if you’re just joining us, my co-host and I are live-interviewing the eager confessors here to unburden their souls on their afternoon commute.
NICHOLE: And here we are with our very own Isabelle Powell, ex-Red-Line-mayoral-candidate-turned-Wonderland-community-leader. Could you tell us, Izzy, what made you brave the Red Line mandate currently barring all participants in your political demonstrations from entering the city?
[MUSIC: The news theme ends and a bouncy, rhymthic tune plays underneath.]
ISABELLE: (chuckling) I’m certainly not here to give up my hard-earned secrets to one of Legion’s patented home listening devices. That’s for sure.
CHUCK: Don’t you mean home assistants?
ISABELLE: I know what I said.
NICHOLE: (amused) I won’t deny being a smidge skeptical when I first heard Mayor Bespin’s pitch for the priest being a robot, nor was I surprised at all when it broke down after only two confessions.
ISABELLE: Those Bespins sure do love their shiny new toys, don’t they? Let’s just say the only reason I’m still here is to share a kind word with the fellow who ensured my friends and I entry into this church despite the Mayor’s protests.
[Music ends.]
[SFX: We hear chiming alarms and bells from the train station.]
CHUCK: I must admit, I’m not surprised that you’re a woman of faith, but I’d never have taken you for a Catholic. What’s weighing on you on this fine Sunday afternoon?
NICHOLE: (clearing her throat, concerned) Chuck-o—
ISABELLE: (still amused) As far as I understand it, Mr. Octagon, any of the things I may or may not have to share with that man come from a private place that will remain between me, him, and God themself. But I admire your commitment to the pursuit of truth, wherever you can find it.
CHUCK: (proud) Thank you, Ms. Powell. That sure means a lot, coming from you—
NICHOLE: (interrupting) And there you have it, folks! Red Lineans and Greater Bostonians alike continue to gather in this rather modest cathedral, awaiting their chance to confess their sins, their hopes, and their dreams in the name of their own private bond with God and faith, in spite of unfettered capitalism.
FORGIVE MELISSA
[SFX: The door to a confessional booth opens.]
MELISSA: Oh, uh, hi.
FR. BEN: Hello. How long has it been since your last confession?
MELISSA: Confess—Oh, I don’t… I’m not… I’m just trying to—
FR. BEN: Commute, sure, sure. Getting a lot of that today.
MELISSA: Actually, I really shouldn’t be here. I’m definitely not welcome in the city. I sort of ran in here after things broke up.
FR. BEN: You were part of the demonstration?
MELISSA: Yeah.
FR. BEN: Well, everyone is welcome when it comes to the Church.
MELISSA: I am fairly sure Emily Bespin would have some choice disagreements on that front.
FR. BEN: Well, the mayor is not a priest. And the church has a long history of providing sanctuary to those doing the right thing.
MELISSA: Sanctuary is exactly what I need right now.
FR. BEN: As far as I’m able, I’ll make sure you get where you’re going safely as long as it’s in this Church… Car.
MELISSA: Thank you. It’s been a long day. And it’s only just starting!
FR. BEN: Do you want to talk about it?
MELISSA: I don’t know… I’m not exactly Catholic.
FR. BEN: I’m here to listen to whoever needs it. It sounds like you might.
MELISSA: Um. Well… I’m… tired, Father. Really, really tired. An aching, burning exhaustion I feel in the marrow of my bones, in the depths of my soul, that I don’t know how to shake. God, that sounds dramatic, but it is how I’ve been feeling lately.
FR. BEN: That sounds hard.
MELISSA: It isn’t great. But that’s the problem: it shouldn’t be this hard. I’m in politics, well, I guess, community engagement by way of politics at this point. And I know the grind. That’s what this job is all about. And I’m not the kind of person who can waste time feeling like this.
FR. BEN: Hmmm. Can you unpack that a little for me?
MELISSA: There’s just… so much to do. Like, it’s insane how much needs to be done, all the time! And I’m really one of only a handful of people who can do these really particular things. And I like what I do. I love it. It’s why I get up in the morning. It fills me up. This work gives me a depth of joy I never even knew was possible, even with all the varying shades of complexity.
FR. BEN: You really seem to have a calling.
MELISSA: In a way, yeah, I guess, I guess I do. But that’s what makes me so… angry at myself!
FR. BEN: Angry?
MELISSA: I mean, yeah! This stupid human body with all its physical needs and narrow emotional bandwidth. I just want to keep powering through. I have to keep powering through. My community needs me, but I don’t know if I can keep it up. The dread sort of creeps into everything, you know? I’ve even started having utility-based nightmares. They’re—they’re terrible. I can’t get out of them. I can’t wake up. I… I…
FR. BEN: That sounds distressing… and oddly specific.
MELISSA: You don’t even know the half of it. I just don’t want to let everyone down. I don’t want to let myself down. I don’t want—I don’t want everything we’ve been working toward to fall apart because I didn’t have the will to push a little bit farther.
FR. BEN: It sounds like you’re being very hard on yourself.
MELISSA: I don’t know any other way to be.
FR. BEN: Have you ever considered that if you take care of yourself now it will do a world of good later? The whole putting-on-your-oxygen-mask-before-helping-others thing?
MELISSA: Like on a plane?
FR. BEN: Like on a plane. As much as you berate your “stupid human body,” we’re all human. And there’s only so much we can do, so much we can take.
MELISSA: I mean, I know that.
FR. BEN: You may know that intellectually, but I’m not sure you feel it. Why are you so special that you don’t have to rest?
MELISSA: I—I, I mean—I’m not, I—
FR. BEN: I’m not trying to back you into a corner here. I’m just saying you, too, deserve the chance for a little grace, to take care and come back into whatever you need to do stronger than before. You get to have that too.
MELISSA: Well, I…. Hmm. That’s, uh, certainly something to think about. That’s… kind of you to say.
FR. BEN: It’s the truth. I hope you take it to heart.
MELISSA: I… I’ll try.
FR. BEN: That’s all we can do.
FORGIVE ISABELLE
[SFX: The door to the confessional opens again.]
FR. BEN: Good afternoon. How long has it been since your last confession?
ISABELLE: Oohh, dear. Long enough for me to be embarrassed, and too long to remember.
FR. BEN: Best guess?
ISABELLE: Twenty-one years.
FR. BEN: That seems awfully specific for someone who doesn’t remember.
ISABELLE: I can’t be certain I went to confession, but I was attending church a lot back then.
FR. BEN: Any particular reason?
[MUSIC: Contemplative, ambling guitar is finger picked underneath this section.]
ISABELLE: I was facing some pretty serious losses. So… funerals. And then… looking for direction.
FR. BEN: Did you find it?
ISABELLE: I found a direction in church, but not one I particularly liked. I should also warn you I’m not Catholic.
FR. BEN: That’s okay. All are welcome here.
ISABELLE: Hmm. Yes. So I hear. A surprising development in Red Line.
FR. BEN: Hopefully a positive one.
ISABELLE: In some ways.
FR. BEN: Why don’t you tell me what you’re here to confess?
ISABELLE: Tell me, Father. Do you think partaking in a smaller sin to expose a much larger one is a worthy pursuit?
FR. BEN: It depends on how you look at it. I think it’s dangerous to view sin as something on a spectrum.
ISABELLE: But surely there are worse sins than others.
FR. BEN: Unquestionably. But once you start judging them—especially in other people—you open yourself up to judgment, which is one of the worst sins imaginable.
ISABELLE: So I am not to judge. I am meant to just… ignore the large sins all around me and stick to fixing my own. Right?
FR. BEN: Mmm, no, there are times to act out against sin.
ISABELLE: “And Jesus went into the temple of God, and cast out all them that sold and bought in the temple, and overthrew the tables of the money changers, and the seats of them that sold doves, And said unto them, It is written, My house shall be called the house of prayer; but you have made it a den of thieves.”
FR. BEN: Matthew 21.
ISABELLE: Is it strange that this was my favorite part of the Gospel growing up? Finally. Some real human emotion. Anger. Something that flirts with sin itself, even. Something humanizing. Jesus snaps. Growing up, I felt like snapping like that all the time.
FR. BEN: It is very relatable.
ISABELLE: In some ways. I always had a problem with why he was angry. There was so much injustice all around Christ that he seemingly accepted peacefully. And the temple being used is what sets him off? Now why do you think that is?
FR. BEN: I’m not sure I’d say he accepted anything. He ended up changing the entire world, after all.
ISABELLE: By giving up.
FR. BEN: No. Through forgiveness.
ISABELLE: And what am I supposed to do with that? Let the Romans walk all over me, leave me with lashes until I’m broken and bloodied while I plead with God and say they know not what they do? I don’t believe that. They know exactly what they’re doing. And part of my anger is rooted in feeling like this whole thing is designed to keep my righteousness in check. Turn the other cheek, forgive, while the den of thieves goes on dancin’ on my back. Now I ask you. What did Christ change? The Romans are still in power, more powerful than ever. But their great trick is they learned to use your book to teach forgiveness to those they continually mistreat while making the whole world—not just the temple—everywhere—into their personal little sacrilegious marketplace, and everyone in it are nothing but items, commodities, things, which can be bought and sold. What about that can I forgive, Father? How can I forgive myself if I do?
[Music ends.]
FR. BEN: (sighs) No. You’re not wrong to feel anger. You’re human. But if you act on that anger, in a negative way, in a malicious way, would you be able to forgive yourself then?
ISABELLE: What’s my malice compared to the maliciousness pulling the strings to hurt the world? And if I can use my malice to cut those strings, shouldn’t I? You tell me, how did you react this morning when you saw the Bespins forcing people out of the sanctuary of a church?
FR. BEN: It did make me angry.
ISABELLE: Did you act on that anger?
FR. BEN: I think you know the answer to that.
ISABELLE: And yet still you sit and serve this city. A stranger who recognizes all that’s wrong with it.
FR. BEN: I serve the Church. I serve people. I serve you. All are welcome here, remember? The pursuit of goodness and peace through faith.
ISABELLE: A sanctuary inside a prohibitive fortress. All are welcome. Sure. FR. BEN: Let me ask you something. Would you have me be dedicated to something other than what I am?
ISABELLE: I’d have you dedicate yourself to justice.
FR. BEN: And I feel I am. Those people you sent this morning—would you rather I not help them?
ISABELLE: Heh. There was press there this morning. If you not being there, you not helping them, brings attention to those rotten Red Line Romans? Yes! I’d rather you not. Don’t get me wrong, it’s admirable, what you did. I’m glad they were able to get inside. But what happens when you leave? What happens when you use your version of justice as a guest, in the service of all that’s wrong?
FR. BEN: You can’t ask me to be something I’m not.
ISABELLE: Yes I can. Because the book you use asks me that every day.
FR. BEN: It asks with the understanding of who its audience is. Humans. Imperfect people. Trying their best.
ISABELLE: Father? You try very hard. And you’ve made a good impression on me. But some people try harder than others. And a whole bunch of people don’t try at all. And I’m tired, so damn tired, of waiting on them to try while they use my back for nothing but to step into their overpriced rail-homes.
FR. BEN: You still haven’t confessed to anything.
ISABELLE: Yes I did. And you called me out. I organized that demonstration this morning. And I’m sorry it wasn’t the truth.
FR. BEN: I’m sorry I prevented it from being a bigger story.
ISABELLE: We still got some coverage, thankfully. And I pray it does some good. Beyond that, I wanted to come and ask you—how do you do it? Wake up everyday and find that hope? Find that faith?
FR. BEN: I said it before. You can’t ask me to be something I’m not.
ISABELLE: And yet you work every day with the belief that people can change.
FR. BEN: Because I know they can. Because I have. Change is a part of being human too.
ISABELLE: On that, we agree. I’m just not sure of the direction. Are we headed inbound or outbound? Or is the train broken down, stuck in the middle?
FORGIVE KAVLYN
[SFX: Fr. Ben exits the confessional as Kavlyn exhales deeply and flops into a pew.]
[MUSIC: Droney organ music plays out of a cassette player in the background.]
FR. BEN: Hey there.
KAVYLN: Oh! Hi. Is it okay that I'm sitting here? I just wanted to chill for a second.
FR. BEN: Everyone is welcome in the house of the lord. Even to just “chill”.
KAVYLN: Cool, cool, cool. I’ve just been having a bit of a day, and my toesies could use a rest.
FR. BEN: You work for the mayor, right?
KAVYLN: Yeah. She’s totally my boss.
FR. BEN: That must be a difficult job.
KAVYLN: Why?
FR. BEN: Well, the mayor seems a bit… prickly?
KAVYLN: She’s actually really smooth. I’ve been meaning to ask what conditioner she uses.
FR. BEN: No, I, that’s not—I just mean she seems like a tough person to work with.
KAVYLN: I just mostly answer phones and go places. And emails. So much emails. And, like, Twitter-ing. It’s cool because sometimes I get to, like, pretend to be the mayor online. You have to, like, get her voice down. It’s like… being a ventriloquist or something. But on the Internet! And no dolls. Just, like, typing. I do get tired sometimes. But the coffee is free, which is cool. We have an espresso machine thing. Though I might have broke it? I don’t know. I need to figure that out.
FR. BEN: Not much bothers you, does it?
KAVYLN: What’s there to be bothered about?
FR. BEN: That’s an intriguing way to look at life.
KAVYLN: I’m just vibing, you know?
FR. BEN: Uhhhhh…
KAVYLN: I am starving. Do you have any of those wine and wafers? That’s a Catholic thing, right?
FR. BEN: I mean, that’s for communion…
KAVYLN: Can I have some?
FR. BEN: Uh, well, that’s not really what’s—
KAVYLN: Ehhh, I’ll just get some ice cream instead. I think there’s a parlor in the next car.
[SFX: Train starts slowing and screeching to a halt.]
FR. BEN: You… you have a good day.
KAVYLN: You too! Thanks for letting me hang out. Bye!
[Music ends.]
[SFX: Train doors open and close.]
FORGIVE YELENA:
[SFX: The confessional doors open and close.]
YELENA: Hello, Father. I am called Yelena.
FR. BEN: It’s nice to meet you, Yelena. How long has it been since your last confession?
YELENA: Seven days.
FR. BEN: Oh, a regular, great. And what would you like to confess?
[MUSIC: Bouncy, contemplative guitar music plays.]
YELENA: I am work with secret radical movement to overthrow oppressive train city regime and uplift working class.
FR. BEN: And you feel what you’ve been doing with this group is sinful?
YELENA: No, this is not sinful. You ask what I will like to confess. I will like to confess this because I am proud. But I cannot confess to world because work is secret and secret must be kept. And so I may only confess to you, because you must keep secret or God will punish you.
[MUSIC: The guitar becomes more driving as the conversation continues.]
FR. BEN: Right. I should tell you, that only holds so long as you’re not hurting anyone. If you’re hurting someone, that I do have to report.
YELENA: I have hurt no one.
FR. BEN: Okay, good.
YELENA: Yet.
FR. BEN: Are you planning to hurt someone?
YELENA: I have no plan. But if is necessary, then is necessary.
FR. BEN: Hurting people is never necessary.
YELENA: ту так думаешь?
FR. BEN: I don’t understand.
YELENA: You have never hurt someone?
FR. BEN: Not physically. And not on purpose.
YELENA: If you know it will hurt before is done, then is on purpose.
FR. BEN: Okay. Well, when you put it like that, yes…
YELENA: Sometimes you have choice of things, and first thing will cause hurt, but second thing will also cause hurt. Which do you choose?
FR. BEN: Uh… I guess in a situation like that, I’d try to choose whichever one causes less hurt.
YELENA: Sometimes you choose thing that causes less hurt. Sometimes you choose thing that causes hurt to people who can stand to be hurt. But however you choose, you cause hurt. And is on purpose. Still, choice must be made.
FR. BEN: That’s a lot more fatalistic than I’m comfortable with.
YELENA: Is not fatalistic. Is optimistic. Is how you make world better.
FR. BEN: I feel like we’ve gotten off-track here. Did you have an actual sin you need to confess?
YELENA: Да. I am dishonest with friend. I do not tell her that I am work with secret radical movement. I tell her am doing one thing, when really, am doing something else. Police ask her about me, she tell them lie, not knowing is lie.
FR. BEN: That sounds like a serious breach of trust. And one that could get your friend in real trouble.
YELENA: If friend is in trouble, then I tell truth. But friend is safer is not knowing truth.
FR. BEN: That’s rarely true. Most of the time, when we think we’re protecting someone else from the truth, we’re really just protecting ourselves from their reaction to the truth.
YELENA: Да. But most time, truth is not radical conspiracy for revolution.
FR. BEN: You got me there… but it’s unfair to use them for an alibi without their knowledge. Keeping them ignorant may be safer for them, but it would be safer still to not use them at all. But I think you already know that. Which makes me wonder if what you really want is to unburden yourself to them. Carrying a secret—even if it’s a secret you’re proud of—is difficult. It’s natural to want to tell someone. Especially someone you care about and trust.
YELENA: But truth puts her in danger. Sometimes lie is good. Sometimes is sin to tell truth.
FR. BEN: I’m not really comfortable with the idea that telling the truth can be sinful? But I will say, if you’re setting her up to figure it out herself, that’s morally no different from just telling her. And I think maybe that’s what you’re doing.
YELENA: Mm. You are maybe correct. I must think on this. Thank you, Father. This is helpful. Now I will go. До свидания.
FR. BEN: (trying to repeat) Doh sve… sved… um, goodbye!
[MUSIC: Trailing off as the conversation ends.]
FORGIVE ABDUL
[SFX: Fr. Ben exits the confessional as the bell dings and someone enters the train.]
[MUSIC: Droney organ music plays underneath the scene.]
FR. BEN: Are you here for confession?
ABDUL: What? Why… why would I be looking for confession in a Red Line car? Isn’t that supposed to happen in a church or something?
FR. BEN: Oh, this train car is now a church and… you know what, it’s a long story.
ABDUL: Yeah, it’s usually a long story around these parts. But no, thank you. I’m just heading home from work. Besides, I’m sure almost nothing about my lifestyle is kosher with your holy book. You probably don’t want to hear about my (in a Dracula voice) homosexual urges!
FR. BEN: Oh don’t worry. I’m not really a “by the book” kind of priest. I’m also not gonna try and convert you or change you or anything. I’m really just here to help people find forgiveness and peace.
ABDUL: Ah, see, I don’t believe in forgiveness.
FR. BEN: Don’t… believe in forgiveness?
ABDUL: Okay, maybe that’s a little hyperbolic. The little stuff—white lies, careless insults—sure. Say you're sorry, move on. But the big stuff—turning your back on a loved one, leaving them behind without a trace—the stuff that really hurts—no one ever forgets that. You might make up. You might try to make it right. But it never really goes away.
FR. BEN: (drifting) Yeah… yeah…
ABDUL: You… ok?
FR. BEN: (fumbling) Yeah, yes, sorry. But alright—so, you don’t believe in people forgiving each other. What about… what about when you’ve hurt someone? How do you deal with feelings of guilt? Do you believe in forgiving yourself?
ABDUL: I feel it. I live in it. I reflect on it. I do what I can to better myself. I do what I can to restore the relationship, to make it right. But eventually you have to find a way to move on. To that end, I’m regularly my own worst critic. I usually ask myself—if I saw someone else tormenting themselves over these feelings, would I say that they were being overly harsh on themselves? Sometimes it just helps to try talking to someone else about it. Which, I guess brings us full circle, cause that’s kind of what you’te here for.
FR. BEN: Yeah, (chuckles) in a manner of speaking.
ABDUL: Well, I hope this has helped!
FR. BEN: What? Helped? Me?ABDUL: It’s right there on your sleeve. But you seem like a smart guy, even for a Catholic priest. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.
[SFX: Ding.]
ABDUL: That’s my stop. Good luck with the evening crowd. There’s a Sox game, and there’s bound to be some wacky confessions coming your way.
FR. BEN: Can’t be any wackier than what I’ve already seen today. And… thanks… what’s your name?
ABDUL: Abdul.
FR. BEN: Father Ben. Thank you, Abdul, Goodnight.
ABDUL: Goodnight, Father.
[Music ends.]
FORGIVE GUY
[SFX: Someone enters the confessional as the train moves and alarms play in the background.]
FR. BEN: May the Lord bless you; what would you like to confess today?
GUY: Truck.
[Pause.]
FR. BEN: Did—did you say “truck”?
GUY: No questions!
FR. BEN: That’s not really how this works.
GUY: TRUCK!
FR. BEN: Yes, I—I heard you, but I’m not sure if shouting “truck” counts as a confession, sir! You can’t just yell truck at me and expect me to absolve you of whatever truck-related sins you’ve got going on!
GUY: Truck… damaged.
FR. BEN: You… you damaged your truck?
GUY: (disgusted) Never!
FR. BEN: Okay? So. Someone else damaged your truck?
GUY: Yes.
FR. BEN: Did you get their insurance?
GUY: No insurance.
FR. BEN: They didn’t have insurance?
GUY: NO. INSURANCE.
FR. BEN: You don’t have insurance. Got it. I think. I’m not sure what this has to do with a confession, though.
GUY: Truck was hit. Sideswiped while parked. Hit and run. Tested paint. Investigated. Found driver. Found driver… responsible.
FR. BEN: You… found the driver?
GUY: Responsible.
FR. BEN: But if you don’t have insurance, then…
GUY: (hits fist into palm) RESPONSIBLE!
FR. BEN: O—kay. Tell me… tell me you haven’t made him… fully responsible… yet. Please?
[MUSIC: Melancholy piano music plays underneath the conversation.]
GUY: Truck. Is hurt.
FR. BEN: I understand. But violence is not the answer.
GUY: Violence is an answer.
FR. BEN: Not a good answer.
GUY: Who will answer for truck?
FR. BEN: If you found the person responsible, maybe you could just ask him to pay for the damage?
GUY: No. Insurance.
FR. BEN: I realize you don’t have insurance, but this might be a good time to get some, don’t you think? And if the other driver—
GUY: Driver responsible.
FR. BEN: If the driver responsible approaches you with the same understanding as you could approach them, perhaps you could work something out?
GUY: No violence?
FR. BEN: I mean, besides sparing them from violence. What can you offer them to make up for the fact that you’re asking to settle this in a way that’s not legal?
[Pause.]
GUY: Recipes.
FR. BEN: Uhh… sure.
GUY: Fix truck. Get good recipes.
FR. BEN: You know what? It’s worth a shot!
[MUSIC: The keyboards increase in volume and energy as the scene comes to an end.]
FORGIVE MALLORY 2
[SFX: The door to the confessional is opened one last time.]
MALLORY: You’re leaving.
FR. BEN: You’re back.
MALLORY: Yeah, you know… Sorry.
FR. BEN: I am too.
MALLORY: So, what’s the rush?
FR. BEN: They fixed the confessional machine, and I’m getting the feeling my presence isn’t wanted. The Mayor sent one of those cheese-wedge-headed robots to follow me around. It’s supposed to be assisting me. And it is, in a sense. Assisting me out the door. Plus… I should probably head back to my parish.
MALLORY: Cool. So you leave and we get stuck with a machine.
FR. BEN: We?
MALLORY: They. Red Line.
FR. BEN: Where you don’t hang ever since it went to hell.
MALLORY: Not in the trains, anyway. I’m more rocking the secret underground tunnels and shit.
FR. BEN: Well. Maybe I’ll be back. And in the meantime, there are plenty of churches to visit that aren’t in trains and that thankfully do not have a corporate-approved automated confessional booth. You know. Should you feel the need.
MALLORY: Right. I know… How you getting back?
FR. BEN: Gonna take the commuter rail back out to where my car is parked. Hitting the Brattle before I leave. I’ve always heard good things about that theater, and they’re doing a special screening of Father Stu with Mark Wahlberg doing a Q-and-A after!
MALLORY: (laughing) Father-fucking-Stu? Are you kidding me?
FR. BEN: Yeah! Wanna join me? Popcorn’s on me!
MALLORY: Hell no. Fuck Mark Wahlberg!
FR. BEN: What? I thought he was a favorite around here.
MALLORY: Nah, that dude is racist and can’t act. He sucks. Plus, he coasts on this tough-guy image that’s only associated with the fact that he’s from here and is a racist piece of shit. Real ones hate his goon ass. And he’s working for Legion now. Kinda like you are.
FR. BEN: You know who I work for.
MALLORY: Yeah. Anyway, they distributed his new movie, and he’s all over town promoting them and it and being his annoying clown-ass self.
FR. BEN: Interesting. Kinda makes you wonder, doesn’t it?
MALLORY: What?
FR. BEN: Can Boston forgive Mark Wahlberg?
MALLORY: Give me a break, Padre Prude. Boston has forgiven him! The whole world has! Nobody gives a shit that he was this giant piece of shit, and they’ve rewarded him with money and fame. But not me, not Mallory, not ever.
FR. BEN: And why not?
MALLORY: (increasingly getting emotional) He doesn’t deserve it! What has he done to make amends? He’s just… he just keeps disappointing everyone with his choices and–and– [Pause.]I’m sorry, I–I wasn’t–
FR. BEN: It’s okay. We can talk about it.
MALLORY: N–no. No, I’m good, I just. You—you’ve got your goofy-ass movie you’re all excited about. Tough-guy goon Mark Wahlberg becomes a priest like you. You gotta go. It’s cool.
FR. BEN: (with difficulty) Hey. F-fffffuck Mark Whalberg.
MALLORY: (laughing) Wow. Swearing—in church, no less. And about your boy. Father Marky-Mark-Stan.
FR. BEN: Maybe I’m a bigger Mallory stan.
[Pause.]
MALLORY: I can’t. I can’t get into it. I’m not ready.
FR. BEN: Okay.
[MUSIC: Melancholy piano music begins to play underneath the conversation.]
MALLORY: Why does all this stuff you try to leave behind stay with you? Why can’t you shake it? Why can’t you just leave it behind and feel fine with it?
FR. BEN: Sometimes I wish it could be that easy. But imagine who you’d be if that was the case. You wouldn’t be you. You wouldn’t be made of all the experiences that shaped you, that still live within you. Good and bad. And all those people affected by you, shaped by those same experiences, ripples in a pond, waves in an ocean. Me meeting you is me meeting all the people who shaped who you are. And that’s worth something.
MALLORY: Thank you. For not pushing me.
FR. BEN: I’m not the pushing kind, generally. But I don’t want you to give up on that impulse. I think you need to talk to someone. I think there’s someone you need to—MALLORY: Not yet… I’m not ready yet.FR. BEN: Here. Whenever you’re ready. You can call me. (singing) “Your own… personal… Jesus…”
[MUSIC: The piano song ends abruptly.]
MALLORY: Dude, what.
FR. BEN: Depeche… Mode? No?
MALLORY: This was a moment, and you made it weird.
FR. BEN: Yeah. I do that sometimes. Take care of yourself, Mallory.
MALLORY: I hope you enjoy Father Stu, Padre Prude. [SFX: Red Line doors open and Father Ben exits.]
MALLORY: Talk to you soon.
RETURNING HOME
[SFX: Ben enters the house and drops his keys into a bowl. A TV is playing, but is turned off as Klem calls to him from the living room.]
FR. KLEM: Benji! Home at last.
FR. BEN: (tired) Home at last indeed.
FR. KLEM: (genuinely curious) Sooo, how was the trip? Did it do wonders for your soul?
FR. BEN: When you told me there were relics at the St. Francis Chapel in the Prudential Center, I thought a mall chapel housing the preserved bones of saints would be the weirdest thing I saw on my trip. But have you heard of Red Line?
FR. KLEM: …the subway? Yes, I have traversed its majestic wonders. I knew you were a small town boy, but I didn’t think you were that sheltered.
FR. BEN: (annoyed) I’ve been on a subway before, Klem. But Red Line? That’s a whole different ball game. They’ve seceded from the larger city and built their own functioning government down there. People live in the stations. They live in the cars. Sometimes, while traveling to work in the morning, unsuspecting commuters might walk in on someone who’s in the middle of taking a shower in their own home. It’s all rather… bohemian for my tastes.
FR. KLEM: Sounds pretty kinky to me.
FR. BEN: (ignoring that) It is quite the experience, yes. I had my work cut out for me at the ribbon cutting for St. Ethan’s.
FR. KLEM: So, I take it you didn’t take my advice and use your vacation as an actual vacation, as God intended?
FR. BEN: How would you know what God intended?
FR. KLEM: The big man and I may not see eye to eye anymore, but I know we both strongly believe in the value of rest and relaxation.
FR. BEN: (breathing in through his teeth) Let’s just say… I’m happy to be home and leave it at that, alright?
FR. KLEM: If you say so, Benji, but one of these days all that relentless work is liable to catch up to you. And the Lord knows I’m not really begging to step in and play second string again.
FR. BEN: Whatever you say, Klem.
FR. KLEM: I’m serious; you know I’ve had just about enough of my time in this collar. Having to strap it back on every time you need to go on a dang vision quest just ain’t gonna cut it for too much longer. Plus, you’ve got all these folks wanting to actually talk now!
FR. BEN: (amused) And that’s a bad thing?
FR. KLEM: I think an efficient Church is a good church. Sue me.
FR. BEN: Then you would’ve just loved the priest at St. Ethan’s.
FR. KLEM: Oh? What was he like?
FR. BEN: It could get the people of Red Line in and out of the booth in two minutes flat.
FR. KLEM: Now that’s efficient. But seriously, tell me, did you do anything relaxing on this trip of yours?
FR. BEN: Well, I did go see a showing of Father Stu on my way home, which I’d been pretty excited about. But I’ve gotta admit that Mark Wahlberg’s a lot less talented than I remember. Ended up leaving the theater feeling pretty hollow.
FR. KLEM: I’ve been telling you he was a talentless hack ever since we saw the trailer for the first time!
FR. BEN: (sigh) Next time, I promise, I’ll listen to you.
[The ending credits music begins to play.]
ALEXANDER DANNER: Greater Boston is created by Alexander Danner and Jeff Van Dreason, with help from T.H. Ponders, Bob Raymonda, and Jordan Stillman. Recording and technical assistance from Marck Harmon.
Forgive Me! is a Rogue Dialogue production created by Jack Marone and Bob Raymonda.
You can find multiple seasons of both Forgive Me! and Greater Boston on your favorite podcast app.
Portions of this episode were recorded at The Bridge Sound and Stage in Cambridge Massachusetts, with recording engineers Javier Lom and Alex Allinson.
This crossover special was written by Jeff Van Dreason, Alexander Danner, T. H. Ponders, Bob Raymonda, and Jordan Stillman, with story editing by Jack Marone.
Dialogue editing by Bob Raymonda.
Sound design by Jeff Van Dreason.
CAST:
Jeff Van Dreason as Chuck Octagon
Kristen DiMercurio as Nichole Fonzerelli
Jessica Washington as Isabelle Powell
Tanja Milojevich as Melissa Weatherby and Yelena
Casey Callaghan as Father Ben
Daisy Guevara as Kavlyn
Tau Zaman as Abdul
Mike Linden as Guy
Johanna Bodnyk as Mallory
and Sam Musher as Emily Bespin
With special appearance by Josh Rubino as Father Klem.
“Charlie on the MTA”/”Forgive Me Theme” mashup created and performed by Adam Raymonda.
“Battle Hymn of the Republic Medley (blues)” by Marisa Anderson
“Battle Hymn of the Republic (folk)” by Roger McGuinn
The graphic design for this crossover series comes from Sam Twardy
You can support Greater Boston on Patreon at www.GreaterBostonshow.com/GreaterBoston
You can support Forgive Me! on Patreon at www.patreon.com/roguedialogue
JOSH: Sorry, one second, I scrolled to far… (To the tune of “I Ran.”) I scrolled to far… I scrolled too far away… Okay.
FR. KLEM: I think an efficient church is a good church, sue me.