Mary's Delusion and the Passions of Jesus, the Angel of Death in Love,Confessions of a Nymphomaniac, the Female American Pope

By Dominick Ricca

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Aug 9, 2008
• ISBN: 9781465314734

Dominick Ricca

Author Bio: Coming Soon

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Mary’s Delusion

and the

Passions of Jesus,

The Angel

of Death in Love,

Confessions

of a

Nymphomaniac,

The Female

American Pope

Dominick Ricca

Copyright © 2008 by Dominick Ricca.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

49231

Contents

Mary’s Delusion and the Passions of Jesus

The Angel of Death in Love

Confessions of a Nymphomaniac

THE FEMALE AMERICAN POPE

Mary’s Delusion and the Passions of Jesus

1

Standing on a hill outside Nazareth, Mary had a bird’s-eye view of the village. It looked so small, so insignificant. The main road going through the village and a dozen or so side streets. And that was her hometown, her place of birth, her whole world. And what a small world it was, thought the young girl on the hill.

Mary watched the moving specks that were men and women going about their daily routine, doing their work, their rounds or chores, visiting, shopping.

At the southern end of the village, Mary saw a group of women and girls at the well, drawing water to fill their waterpots. They always stayed longer than necessary, chatting, catching up on the village gossip. Who was pregnant. Who were about to announce their engagement to be married. Which suitor had been turned down by the parents of the girl for one reason or another. And for the unmarried girls, the most interesting subject was which man they would want for their husband.

To Mary, looking down from high above, with that detached view, all those things seemed so trite and trivial. Down there, living in Nazareth, life did not seem so. But from way up on the hill… how different it all seemed.

Depressing was the word that came to Mary. She thought of the married women of Nazareth. When they were only in their thirties, they looked like dried-up, withered old hags. It was because of the hard incessant work from morning to night. And those pregnancies, one after the other! It seemed to Mary that every other woman was going around with swollen bellies! Were all husbands so sexually demanding? Why were they so selfish? Why didn’t they give their wives some relief, if they loved them? And if she had such an unfeeling husband, would she be giving birth every few years?

Was that to be her fate? Her belly treated like an oven to produce baby after baby. What a dreary fate! By the time she was forty years old, her body ravaged by all those births, her skin like parchment from the blazing hot sun, she would look like an old crone. If she lived that long!

The men of Nazareth seemed to have longer lives. And why not? They were not the ones who had to endure those constant pregnancies. And so many times the women died in childbirth. And the widowers did not grieve long. Mary knew at least five men who, after a very short period of mourning, remarried and wasted no time in getting their second wives with swollen bellies. What brutal brutes men were!

Raising her right hand, Mary made a solemn vow that she would be no man’s sexual plaything. The man who married her must treat her like a queen! And the husband would be her obedient servant! And she would see to it that there would be a long time between births. And there would be a limit as to how many children they would have.

And before Mary consented to marry the man, she promised herself, she would demand to hear from him the words, Mary, I love you, and I will honor you as long as I live.

But could she find a man who would be willing to speak those words? Men were so proud. They believed in their vanity and conceit that they were superior to women—that they had the divine right to rule over them as if they were gods!

If she did not get a satisfactory husband, she would refuse to marry, no matter what her parents said. The future for her would be better than it would be for those young unmarried girls down there. She would have romance in her life, not hard, grinding work year after year.

Out loud, Mary said, I want to be different from those girls down there! I want glory! I want… oh, what do I want? I want some kind of religious romance!

But after those brave, hopeful words, a wave of discouragement swept over Mary. How could she overcome the bitter reality of the world down there?

Mary dropped to the ground, downhearted, depressed. How, how could she escape the hard life of the village women? How could she avoid the drudgery, the premature old age, and an early death? Vaguely, she thought… somehow… someway, escape it she would…

Now, glancing down below, Mary was keenly aware of what the village girls thought of her. It was true that she was not a sociable person. Mary did not dawdle at the village well like all the other girls to gossip about their favorite subject—the young men. She would greet everyone politely, draw her water, and leave.

As she walked up the road back to her house, Mary could hear the snide comments the girls made, and they did not care that she heard them.

Stuck-up, that’s what she is!

Always with her nose in the air!

As if she’s some aristocratic lady!

Thinks she’s better than the rest of us!

And her mind is always somewhere else!

Why is Mary so cold?

And unfriendly!

Yes, and so dreamy! You pass her on the road and greet her, and she stares at you with that stupid, blank expression!

What is that girl thinking about all the time?

About catching a man, that’s what Mary is thinking about!

And even from a distance, Mary could hear the scornful laughter and was sure that they were laughing at her.

But Mary did not care that the girls laughed at her, or about those nasty remarks. But the last one did annoy and sting her pride. A man! Not her! She was no fool like those silly girls who craved a life of toil and being big with coming babies all the time. No, her life would not be the monotonous, hardworking, childrearing life of all those married slaves down in the village.

A daydreaming look appeared on Mary’s face. Slowly she rose to her feet. Throwing out her arms and gazing up at the cloudless blue sky with a sun like burnished copper, Mary declared with solemn confidence, No, not for me that miserable man-dominated life! God is saving me for a high, glorious destiny! I’m going to be a queen—a queen of heaven!

2

The brief moment of religious exaltation left Mary, and she returned to the prosaic, humdrum world. Slowly, grudgingly, she made her way back down to Nazareth.

When Mary turned off the road and entered the front yard of the house where she lived with her mother, Anne, and her father, Joachim, their only child, she saw her mother bending over a tub, washing clothes.

Mary, where have you been? Anne demanded irritably. You’ve been gone for hours! Where were you all this time?

I took a walk up to the hill, Mother.

In one of your moody moods again! Idling away your time, tramping up and down those hills when you should be doing your work! Didn’t I tell you this morning to do the wash? You know today is washday, you disobedient girl! I’d like to know what goes on in that mind of yours!

I’m sorry, Mother, I… forgot…

Forgot! That seems to be getting to be a habit with you lately, you moonstruck girl! Didn’t I tell you this morning to do the wash while I went shopping? All right, you’re here now, get to work on these clothes.

Mary sighed as she picked up a scrubbing brush on a bench. Her mother dried her hands on a rag and picked up a shopping basket on the ground.

Where’s Father? Mary asked as she bent over the tub.

He’s back of the house, tending to the vegetable garden. When you’re done with the clothes, go back there and give him a hand, Anne said and walked out of the yard.

A half hour later, Mary had the clothes strung out on a clothesline. And then she went behind the house to join her father.

Joachim was on his knees, pruning a row of lentil plants and turning up the earth around them. He did not hear his daughter approaching.

How can I help, Father? Mary said.

Joachim got up and scowled at her. He was a thin, wiry man, always seeming to lean on one side from spending so much time bending over his garden. His hands were gnarled and callused from years of hard work, and his face wrinkled and deeply tanned.

Mary, where have you been? Your mother came out to me twice complaining about you. You are no longer a child, almost a grown woman, and you’d better start acting like one! Where were you?

Mary was annoyed, but tried not to show it. It seemed to her that her mother and father were always scolding her. Why couldn’t they understand that she was… well… different from other girls, that she was… sensitive?

I went for a walk, Father.

She went for a walk! When there’s work to be done!

Father, I wasn’t gone long.

You were not supposed to be gone at all. I want you to stop wasting your time going for these stupid walks! Mary, you must change your ways. Help your mother out, help more around the house. She has enough work to do. You are seventeen years, and it’s about time you began acting like a mature person.

Yes, Father, Mary said, trying to keep the sullen tone out of her voice. What do you want me to do?

I want you to collect the lentils in that pan over there. But before you do that, I have something to tell you.

What is it?

Joseph was here a half hour ago. Your mother knew what was on his mind, and she sent him out to me. Mary, this is the third time he’s come to see me about you. Well, what do you say? Will you have Joseph for your husband?

Mary shuddered inwardly. With horror in her heart, she looked into the future as Joseph’s wife, and it sickened her. Joseph represented everything she wanted to escape—tied slavishly to a man, working her fingers to the bone, and giving birth every couple of years. And a dried-out old woman by the time she was thirty-five years old. She could almost cry, thinking of that dismal prospect.

Mary, I asked you a question. Do you want Joseph for your husband?

Finding her voice, Mary answered, Father, I need time to think about it.

You’ve had plenty of time already! Joseph’s father came to me three months ago on behalf of his son. And at that time you told me you wanted to think it over. And since then, Joseph has been to see me, as I said, asking for you hand in marriage and if he could walk with you up and down Nazareth and even be alone with you on the front porch. Well, Mary, what have you got to say for yourself? Why do you keep putting Joseph off?

Father… I hardly know Joseph, except to see him now and then on the road…

Well, that’s the purpose of the courtship, so you will get to know him. Walk about with him, sit and talk with him on the porch. I could invite him over for dinner, once you said the word.

Father, I…

Mary, why are you hesitating? Any girl would jump at the chance to marry Joseph. He’s a personable boy, always polite and respectful. He works diligently in his father’s carpentry shop. And his father has promised me that when his son marries, he will give him the means to start his own business and help him build a house for him and his wife to live in.

You’ve already told me all that, Father.

Yes, and I’m telling you again, girl! Why won’t you marry Joseph? He’s a good worker, respected in Nazareth, and very religious. You’ve seen yourself with what fervor and earnestness he reads from the holy scrolls in the synagogue.

Yes, yes, many times. Joseph is a fine young man.

I’m glad to hear you say that, Mary! So can I go over to Joseph’s house tonight and tell him, his father, and his mother that you will—

Oh, Father, so soon? It’s such a big step, a serious step.

Which a number of young men and women will be taking in the next few weeks. Mary, don’t you want a home of your own, a loving husband… and children?

Mary had great difficulty controlling her temper. She felt any minute that she would scream at the kind of life her father wanted her to have.

She knew in her heart that it would be useless to try to explain to her father that the kind of life he wanted for his daughter did not appeal to her. Not only did not appeal to her, but filled her with revulsion and dread.

Mary wanted to burst out the words that were on the tip of her tongue—Father, I believe I’m someone special in God’s eyes! He has chosen me to perform some divinely important work! I’ve known it, I’ve felt it for some time! God doesn’t want me to be just another grubby baby-producing housewife old before my time! No, God doesn’t want that kind of life for me! He is saving me for a glorious destiny!

But all she could mutter was, Father, please, please… give me time to think it over.

And how much time do you want, Mary? Joachim asked. A few days, a week?

Father, I beg you, please don’t tie me down to a certain time! Mary pleaded desperately.

Seeing the high color in his daughter’s face and how upset she was, Joachim said soothingly, All right, Mary, all right. We will discuss this another time. Get to work on the lentils.

Thank you, Father, Mary said, picking up the pan off the ground.

There’s just one thing I have to tell you. Before Joseph left, I gave him permission to call on you tonight.

You didn’t!

I did. I’m not pinning you down to a time on this marriage matter, but I don’t see why you should refuse to get to know Joseph better.

But, Father—

Mary, I want you to see him alone, talk to him. You might find out you like him, maybe in time even get to love him.

Father, is it your command that I spend a little while alone with… Joseph?

Let us say it is my wish.

Your wish, Mary said sadly. She felt trapped, that she was sliding down a steep slope and into Joseph’s waiting arms. Would her parents force her to marry him?

I spoke to your mother, Joachim was saying, and she sees nothing wrong with you and Joseph having a nice private talk on the porch. He’s twenty-one years old, and you are seventeen. Time both of you got married. Why, I was only eighteen and your mother was sixteen when we got married. Mary, will you do this for me and your mother like a dutiful daughter?

I will do as you say, Mary said resignedly.

But to herself, she said, I’ll see Joseph, but I swear I will not marry him!

3

Early that evening, as Mary was helping Anne cook the supper, Joachim said, Mary, we are having guests over to eat with us. Joseph will be arriving after supper. I want you to go up on the roof and wait for the young man. And make yourself pretty!

Father, I thought I was going to sit on the front porch with Joseph. Isn’t that what you said?

No, we old folks will be sitting on the porch ofter supper. Up on the roof, with the moon and the stars overhead… you and Joseph will have a very enjoyable talk.

Mary had her back to her father as she stirred a pot of lamb stew. Her mother was slicing up some vegetables on a small table. A cross expression appeared on her face. There was no use protesting. She would have to be all alone with Joseph on the roof. Suppressing her anger, she simply nodded and went on stirring the stew.

That’s my good girl! Joachim said, pleased with himself.

Later, after supper, Joachim and Anne, with their guests, walked out to the front porch to relax and chat. Mary went into her small room. Next to it was her parents’ bedroom.

Some nights, when Mary could not sleep, she could hear through the thin clay walls the panting, grunting sounds her mother and father made as they engaged in sexual relations. Mary was revolted and disgusted by the animal-like sounds she had to listen to. But sometimes, unconsciously, her hand moved down below her belly, and she would rub and rub vigorously until she got relief from that aching yearning. But with that relief came a deep sense of shame and remorse. Mary felt that she was guilty of some great betrayal, but of what exactly, she was not sure.

This night, Mary sat down on a stool by her pallet in front of a shiny metal hanging on the wall by a string. It showed clearly her reflection.

Now Mary remained motionless, staring at herself. She saw a very pretty face, full pouting ruby-red lips, soft brown eyes, and raven-black shiny hair that reached down below her shoulders.

Mary remembered what Joachim said about making herself pretty. No, she would do nothing of the kind. She eyed the kohl and the other few items of cosmetics on the bench beside her. No, she would not apply them to her face, her eyes, to make her look attractive in Joseph’s eyes. She would appear to him as plain as possible. Why should she try to look extra pretty for that carpenter boy—she, Mary, who had surely found favor with God!

When Mary walked out of her room, she was annoyed to see Joachim waiting for her. Smiling, he said, Mary, you look very pretty. I’m sure Joseph will like what he sees. Now go on up to the roof. Your young man will be here shortly.

How those words, your young man, galled and vexed Mary. As she went outside and walked up the stone steps at the side of the house, she was thinking, He isn’t my young man! I never even spoke to him!

When Mary got up to the roof, she looked around. There were a few pallets lying about and also a long wooden bench. Sometimes, on very hot nights, many of the people of Nazareth slept on the roofs under the stars.

Sitting down on the bench to wait for Joseph, Mary sighed deeply and glanced up at the night sky. There was a bright crescent moon and lots of twinkling stars. Just the setting her father wanted, Mary thought bitterly. Well, nothing would come of this meeting with that carpenter, she promised herself. She would spend some time with him, talk with him, and that was all! She would have done her duty, obeyed her father!

Only minutes after Mary sat down, she heard the dreaded sound of sandals scraping against the steps of the roof. She gritted her teeth; her lips became a thin line. Her heart began to beat faster. Her ordeal was about to begin. But she fortified herself by whispering with grim determination, I won’t have him for my husband! I will not have any ordinary man for my husband!

When Joseph appeared on the roof, Mary took a hard, critical look at him as he walked toward her. His clothes were neat enough, she had to admit. But she did not like his face. It had a roughness about it behind the thin growing beard. His nose was hooked and thick, his mouth wide, and he had a long jaw. His eyes were small and dark. Not at all a handsome man, Mary thought. But what did that matter? Even if he was the handsomest man alive, she had no intention of marrying Joseph.

Good evening, Mary, he said in a low, timid voice, smiling thinly.

Good evening, Mary answered without any warmth in her greeting, not returning his smile, her eyes cast down.

For some moments, Joseph stood awkwardly in front of her, his arms at his side. When Mary glanced up at him, he took that as a sign of encouragement and said, Uh… Mary, may I sit down?

Moving over slightly on the bench, Mary replied, Please yourself.

Thank you, Joseph said, sitting down about a feet away from her. It’s a nice night, isn’t it? Not too hot, and you get a refreshing breeze up here. Ah… isn’t that a pretty moon?

Staring straight in front of her, Mary said, I hadn’t noticed.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The heavy silence became unbearable to Joseph. He racked his brains for something to say. Somehow, he had to get Mary to talk to him! But how could he get her to talk to him? And then he remembered something his mother had told him that morning.

Say, Mary, did you hear that Gideon and Daniela are engaged to be married?

No, I didn’t hear about it.

Yes, it’s true. My mother told me today. What do you think of that?

I hope they will be very happy.

Oh, I’m sure they will be. My mother said that Gideon and Daniela love each other very much. It’s going to be a real love marriage. And that’s always important in…

Joseph lapsed into silence, seeing that Mary continued to avert her eyes from him, her face showing no emotion. He was longing with all his heart to tell Mary how he felt about her, how much he loved her. Joseph wanted to declare ardently to her that he had to have her, not only because he wanted a wife, but because he loved, truly and deeply loved, her! All the way to Mary’s house from the other end of Nazareth, Joseph had rehearsed his speech to express his love for her. But now he sat there, tongue-tied, afraid to speak.

What was the matter with him? What kind of man was he? Didn’t he receive permission from Joachim to speak to Mary? Well, speak to her! Joseph urged himself. Here was his opportunity! And he was wasting it! Any minute, Mary might get up and join the old folks on the porch. Speak, he told himself sternly, speak!

Moving closer to Mary, Joseph reached for her hand, but before he could take hold of it, she clasped her hands in her lap, leaning away from him. It was not an encouraging beginning, but Joseph pressed on bravely.

Placing his hand on Mary’s tightly clasped hands, Joseph said, Mary, I’ve come here tonight… your father said that I could speak with you… alone…

I know, I know. He told me all about it. He practically ordered me to wait for you up here.

Ordered you? Joseph said, surprised by the words.

Yes, and I had to obey my father.

Mary, I don’t want to force myself on you. But if your father—

Joseph, say what you’ve come here to say, Mary interrupted bluntly. I have to listen to you, whether I like it or not.

Oh, Mary, you make it so hard for me to say what I’ve come here to say. Mary, my heart is breaking for you!

Is that what you came to tell me?

Mary… my father told me months ago that when I was ready to get married, found the right girl, he would help me with tools and some money to get started on my own. And my father also said that my uncle, Sion his brother, the wealthy merchant, would give me as a wedding present that empty lot he owns near the end of the village. It covers a whole acre, and it would be mine, mine and my wife’s. With the help of my father and some friends, I could build that house and—

But first you have to find the girl to marry, right? Mary asked pointedly, looking at Joseph for the first time, with a smirking smile.

Mary, I have found that girl! You are that girl!

Me? she said, turning her face away.

Mary, my Mary!

Please look at me, please!

I’m looking at you, Mary said, turning her face.

Mary, I love you! Joseph declared passionately, falling on his knees in front of her and grabbing hold of both her hands. She tried to pull away, but he held on to them in his strong hands.

Giving up the struggle, Mary said, So you love me. Why?

Mary, I beg you, don’t pose me a riddle. Why does a man love one particular woman? I can’t answer that question. All I know for certain is that I love you, and I want you for my wife!

And if I said I didn’t love you, what would you say to that?

Mary, I have enough love for both of us. In time you will come to love me, your husband.

That will not happen.

Listen to me, Mary, listen to me. We will have a comfortable house, one of the best in the village. I’ll work hard for you, do everything in my power to make you happy. Mary, marry me, and I promise that you will never regret it. We’ll have plenty of land behind the house for fruit trees and a vegetable garden.

And you’ll expect me to do all the household work and the outside chores under a scorching sun and turn me into a burnt-out shriveled-up old hag in a few years! Not to mention keeping me pregnant from one year to the next! Is that the kind of miserable life you have planned for me, my loving Joseph?

No, Mary, no. I’ll… I’ll get a servant, a part-time servant, to help you with the work. And about the babies… if God blesses us—

You mean curses me with the burden of pregnancy! I’m the one who has to waddle around for months all blown up!

Mary, it’s so unnatural for a female to talk like that.

Well, that’s the way I feel.

But the women of the village are happy to have babies.

Maybe the first and second ones. But not when they keep coming and coming! I went with my mother to help with a difficult delivery two years ago. How that woman screamed in agony. She barely survived. The baby was stillborn.

Yes, Mary, sometimes that happens… God’s will…

God’s will! Mary said scornfully. That’s what you men always say! But it’s the woman who does the suffering!

Mary, if you would only see things in a more—

Enough, enough! Joseph, I must be frank with you. I cannot tonight give you an answer to that question you are burning to ask me. Not tonight. You must wait.

Standing up, Joseph said, Mary, I’ll wait, I’ll wait. Only… won’t you give me some hope? Tell me you… love me. Please, Mary, please speak those words!

No, I can’t say those words. I would be lying to you. Joseph, I don’t love you. Now… I’m going to bed. Good night.

With anguish in his heart, Joseph watched Mary as she walked across the roof and down the steps. And as Mary went down, she was thinking that she had successfully put off Joseph now. But he was sure to be back to talk to Joachim. Her father had a strong will. He would relentlessly press her to marry Joseph… until he had his way.

When Mary was in her bedroom, suddenly sweating, anxious, and worried by the threat that loomed over her, she dropped to her knees and prayed with desperate urgency.

God, help me now, soon! Before it’s too late! I know that you have chosen me, me, Mary, for a divine mission! Show your plan to me now, now! God, if you don’t act quickly, your chosen maiden will find herself just another housewife in Nazareth! Give me a sign, give me a sign!

4

Mary was sitting in the synagogue between her mother and father. They were attending the Sabbath evening service. Mary was still fretting over Joseph’s visit a week ago. He had not called on her again. But she was sure that he had spoken to Joachim by the querulous, curt way her father spoke to her. He plainly showed his dissatisfaction with Mary. She was afraid that one day Joachim would come right out and demand to know when she was going to marry Joseph.

With her distracted mind, Mary did not hear one of the elders reading from the scroll. His words seemed to drone on like a drumbeat.

He put down the scroll, and a young man went up to the low platform. His youthful good looks caught Mary’s eyes, and she listened attentively as he began to speak.

A reading from the Book of Isaiah, he announced solemnly.

Mary leaned forward, straining to hear the sacred words. When she heard the young man say, Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign, Mary was gripped by the word sign. Her eyes open wide, her heart beat faster.

Behold, the reader continued, a virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel. Butter and honey shall he eat…

But Mary, thrilled and excited, was no longer listening. Over and over in her mind, the holy words echoed—Behold, a virgin shall conceive a son… This was the sign! This was the sign she had prayed for, waited for! And it came straight to her, Mary, from God!

All over Palestine, the Jews were waiting for the Messiah, who would take away the sins of the world. Of all the Jewish females, God had chosen her, a humble maiden, a virgin, to give birth to the Messiah. How right she was to preserve her virginity!

All that night in her room, lying restlessly on her pallet, her heart beating rapidly, Mary pondered for the tenth time the words from the scroll. It was she they described, God’s holy virgin. Mary felt proud, exalted, that she had been chosen to bring into the world the long-awaited, long-hoped-for Messiah!

But