Chapter 17The Pastor and His Parishioner

He was practically past her when Hester Prynne finally found her voice. "Arthur Dimmesdale!" she called out, softly at first, then louder, but her voice was raspy. "Arthur Dimmesdale!" "Who’s there?" the minister asked.

He straightened up fast, like someone caught off guard - like he didn’t want anyone seeing him like that. He glanced towards the voice, and through the trees, he could barely make out a figure. She was wearing dark clothes, blending into the gloomy light filtering through the trees.

It was hard to tell if it was a woman or just a shadow. Maybe his whole life had been haunted by a ghost that had snuck out of his thoughts. He took a step closer and saw the scarlet letter. "Hester! Hester Prynne!" he said. "Is that you? Are you still alive? "Yep," she replied.

"Living the life I’ve had for the last seven years! And you, Arthur Dimmesdale, are you still kicking?"

It wasn't surprising they started questioning if each other - and even themselves - were really real. Their meeting in the shadowy woods was seriously weird, like bumping into someone you knew super well from a past life, but now you’re both totally freaked out and distant.

It felt like neither of them knew what was going on, or how to be around spirits. They were both ghosts, totally stunned by the other ghost!

They were also stunned by themselves, because this crazy moment flashed back their memories and everything they'd been through - stuff life never shows you unless it's a total crisis. Their souls saw their own faces reflected in the moment.

With fear and hesitation, Arthur Dimmesdale reached out his ice-cold hand and touched Hester Prynne’s equally cold hand. That simple touch took away the worst part of the awkwardness. Now, at least, they knew they were in the same world.

Without saying a word - neither one taking charge, just agreeing without speaking - they went back into the shadows where Hester had come from and sat down on the pile of moss where she and Pearl had been earlier.

When they finally spoke, it was with casual remarks and questions like any two people might make, about the gloomy sky, the coming storm, and how each other was doing. Slowly, cautiously, they started talking about what was really on their minds.

They'd been apart for so long, they needed something small and easy to break the ice and open up to each other. After a bit, the minister looked at Hester Prynne.

"Hester," he said, "have you found peace?" She smiled sadly, looking down at her chest. "You?" she asked. "Nope - just total despair!" he answered. "What else could I expect, being who I am, and living the life I’m living?"

"If I were an atheist - someone without a conscience - a brute - I might’ve found peace a long time ago. Actually, I never would’ve lost it! But, the way things are with my soul, anything good I ever had, every gift from God, has just become a way to torture myself. Hester, I’m so messed up!"

"People look up to you," said Hester. "And you do good things for them! Doesn’t that help at all? "More misery, Hester - just more misery!" the clergyman answered, with a bitter smile. "As for the good I seem to do, I don’t believe in it. It’s gotta be a delusion."

What can a wrecked soul like mine do to help other souls get better? - or a tainted soul to purify them? And about people looking up to me - I wish they’d show me hate instead!

Can you really think it’s comforting, Hester, that I have to stand in my pulpit, and face so many eyes looking up at my face, like heaven is shining from it ! - seeing my people hungry for the truth, listening to my words like it’s a Pentecost tongue speaking !

- and then looking inside, and seeing the awful truth of what they idolize?

I’ve laughed, with a heart full of bitterness and pain, at the difference between what I appear to be and what I really am! And Satan’s laughing with me! "You’re being too hard on yourself," said Hester, softly. "You’ve truly and deeply repented. Your sin is behind you, from way back when.

"Your life now is just as holy as people think it is. Isn’t there anything real about the repentance that’s shown through your good deeds? And why couldn’t it bring you peace?"

"No, Hester, no!" the clergyman said. "There’s nothing real about it! It’s cold, dead, and can’t do anything for me! I’m so over penance! There’s been zero penitence!"

Otherwise, I would’ve ditched these fake-holy clothes a long time ago and shown everyone how I really am - how I’ll be seen at judgment. You’re lucky, Hester, wearing that scarlet letter out in the open! Mine burns in secret!

You have no idea how much it helps, after seven years of pretending, to look into an eye that knows me for who I am!

"If I had one friend - or even my worst enemy! - someone I could go to when I’m sick of everyone praising others, and just be known as the worst sinner ever, I think my soul could actually survive. Even just that much truth would save me! But now, it's all fake! - all empty! - all dead!"

Hester Prynne looked at him, but didn't say anything right away. But he was finally letting out all these feelings, and that gave her the perfect chance to say what she needed to say. She pushed past her fear and spoke.

"You’ve been wishing for a friend like me," she said, "someone to cry with about your sin. You’re stuck with me, your partner in it! She paused, then forced the words out. "You’ve had an enemy like that for a long time, and you’re living with him, under the same roof!"

The minister jumped up, gasping for air, and grabbing his chest, like he wanted to rip his heart out. "What?! What are you saying?!" he cried. "An enemy? Living under my own roof? What do you mean?"

Hester Prynne finally understood how much she's hurt this guy, letting him suffer for years - even just one moment - at the hands of someone who was clearly out to get him. Just being near his enemy, no matter how he hid it, messed with Arthur Dimmesdale’s whole vibe.

There was a time when Hester didn’t really get it, or maybe, lost in her own problems, she let him deal with what she thought was a less bad situation. But lately, ever since that night he stayed up all night, she felt way more connected to him. She could read his heart better now.

She was sure that Roger Chillingworth - basically, his secret, toxic enemy - and his pretending to be his doctor, messing with his health and spirit, was on purpose. He was using those chances to be cruel.

It was keeping Dimmesdale’s conscience messed up, not helping him heal, but just making him fall apart. It would probably lead to him going crazy, and then being separated from anything good and true forever - like madness is a taste of that.

That's the mess she'd made for the guy she still loved so much! Hester thought sacrificing the minister's reputation, even his life, would have been way better than what she's done.

Now, she'd rather have died on the forest floor, right at Arthur Dimmesdale’s feet, than have to admit this awful thing.

"O Arthur," she cried, "forgive me! I’m trying to be true in everything! Truth was the one thing I could hold onto, and I did, no matter what! Except when your good - your life - your reputation - were on the line! Then I went along with a lie."

"But a lie is never okay, even if death is waiting on the other side! Don't you get what I’ve been saying? That old dude - the doctor - the one they call Roger Chillingworth - he was my husband! The minister looked at her, for a second, with so much raw emotion.

It mixed with his better, gentler qualities - that part of him the Devil wanted, trying to take over the rest. He’s never looked so angry. It was a dark, intense look. But he was so worn down by everything that even his worst side couldn’t last. He sank to the ground, burying his face in his hands.

"I should have known," he mumbled. "I did know! Didn't my heart tell me, the first time I saw him, and every time since? Why didn’t I see it? O Hester Prynne, you have no idea the horror of this!"

And the shame! - the lack of respect! - the awful feeling of exposing a sick, guilty heart to someone who’s just gonna love it! Woman, you’re to blame for this! I can’t forgive you! "You will forgive me! Hester cried, falling onto the fallen leaves next to him. "Let God punish you!

"You will forgive me!"

She wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him tight, not even noticing his cheek pressed against the scarlet letter. He tried to pull away, but couldn't. Hester held him close, not wanting him to look at her with that serious face.

The whole world had been giving her the side-eye - for seven long years, they’d judged this lonely woman - but she just kept taking it, never once looking away with those strong, sad eyes. Even Heaven had frowned on her, and she was still here.

But this frown, from this pale, weak, messed-up, heartbroken man... that was what Hester couldn’t handle. "Will you forgive me?" she kept repeating. "Don’t frown. Please forgive me. "I forgive you, Hester," the minister finally said, his voice deep with sadness, but no anger.

"May God forgive us both! We’re not the worst sinners out there. There’s one worse than even that shady priest! That old dude’s revenge was way darker than my sin. You and I, Hester, never did something like that! We didn’t mess with someone’s heart like that. "Never, ever!" she whispered.

"What we did felt... right. We knew it! We told each other that! Have you forgotten?" "Shhh, Hester!" Arthur Dimmesdale said, standing up. "No; I haven’t forgotten!"

They settled back down, side by side, hands clasped, on the mossy tree trunk. It was the bleakest hour life had ever dealt them - the destination their path had been heading toward, darkening with every step.

Still, there was something about it that made them want to stay, just a little longer, and a little longer, and just one more moment. The forest was shadowy all around, creaking with the wind blowing through.

Branches swayed heavily above their heads; one ancient tree groaned to another, like it was sharing the sad story of the couple beneath, or warning of bad things to come. And yet, they stayed put.

How gloomy the forest path looked, leading back to the settlement, where Hester Prynne would have to face the shame again, and the minister the empty pretense of his good name! So they lingered just a bit longer. No light had ever felt as precious as the gloom of this dark forest.

Here, seen only by his eyes, the scarlet letter didn’t have to burn into the fallen woman’s heart! Here, seen only by her eyes, Arthur Dimmesdale, a fake to God and people, could be, for just a second, real! He jumped at a thought that suddenly popped into his head.

"Hester," he said, "there’s a whole new level of messed up! Roger Chillingworth knows you're planning to expose his true self. Will he keep our secret now? What’s he gonna do next with his revenge? "There’s something weirdly secretive about him," Hester replied, thinking it over.

"It’s grown on him with all the sneaky ways he’s been plotting revenge. I don’t think he’s gonna spill the secret. He’s probably gonna find other ways to feed his dark obsession. "And me? - how am I supposed to keep going, breathing the same air as this walking nightmare?"

Arthur Dimmesdale burst out, shrinking into himself, and pressing his hand nervously against his heart - a habit he's developed.

"Think for me, Hester! You’re strong. Help me decide! "You can’t live with this man anymore," said Hester, slowly and firmly. "Your heart can’t be under his evil gaze! "It’s way worse than death!" replied the minister. "But how do I get out of it? What’s my choice?"

"Do I just fall back on these dead leaves, where I landed when you told me who he was? Do I just sink down there and die right away? "Oh, look at the mess you’ve gotten into!" said Hester, tears welling up. "Are you gonna die from being so weak? There’s no other reason!"

"God’s judgment is on me," answered the guilt-ridden priest. "It’s too much for me to fight." "Heaven would show mercy," rejoined Hester, "if you just had the strength to grab it." "Be strong for me!" answered he. "Tell me what to do."

"Is the world really that small?" exclaimed Hester Prynne, locking her eyes on the minister’s, instinctively pulling him in with a powerful force, his spirit so broken and defeated that he could barely stand up straight.

"Does the whole universe fit within the borders of this town, which just a little while ago was just a deserted, leaf-covered wilderness, as lonely as this around us? Where does that forest path lead? Back to the settlement, you say! Yeah, but onward too."

It goes deeper, and deeper, into the wilderness, becoming less and less visible with every step; until, just a few miles from here, the yellow leaves won’t show any trace of a white man’s footsteps. There, you’re free!

"Such a short journey would take you from a world where you’ve been so miserable, to one where you could still be happy! Isn’t there enough shade in all this huge forest to hide your heart from Roger Chillingworth’s eyes?"

"Yeah, Hester, but only under the fallen leaves!" replied the minister, with a sad smile.

"Then there’s the huge path of the sea! Hester continued. "It brought you here. If you want, it’ll take you back. Back home - whether it's a tiny village or huge London - or, like, Germany, France, or even chill Italy - you’d be totally out of his reach and out of his mind!"

And what do you even need with all these tough guys and their opinions? They've been holding you back long enough already!" "It’s not possible!" the minister answered, sounding like he was dreaming. "I can’t go!

"Even though I’m messed up and a sinner, I’ve only wanted to keep going with the life I’ve been given. My own soul is lost, but I still want to do what I can for other people! I can’t just ditch my job, even if I’m a bad guard who’s gonna get a bad end when his time's up!"

"You’re totally crushed under this seven-year weight of misery," Hester said, really wanting to lift his spirits with her own energy. "But you’re gonna leave it all behind! It won’t weigh you down as you walk through the forest; you won’t pack it on the ship if you decide to cross the sea."

Leave this mess and destruction right here where it happened. Don’t touch it again! Start fresh! Have you used up every possibility because this one thing didn't work out? Nope! The future’s still full of challenges and wins. There’s happiness out there! Good things to do!

Ditch this fake life and go for a real one. If your heart tells you to, be a teacher and guide for the Native people. Or - like you, you’re more of - be a scholar and wise guy among the smartest and most respected people in the world. Preach! Write! Do something, except give up and die!

Drop the name Arthur Dimmesdale, and make yourself a new one, a good one that you can wear without feeling scared or embarrassed. Why are you hanging around for even one more day in the pain that's eaten away at you? That’s made you weak to want and do?

That will leave you powerless, even to feel sorry for yourself? Get up, and go! Oh, Hester! Arthur Dimmesdale said, with a flickering light in his eyes, lit by her excitement, that flashed and then faded, you’re telling me to run a race when my knees are shaking! I’m gonna die here!

"I don’t have the strength or guts to go out into the big, weird, tough world alone. It was the last sign of a spirit that was totally broken. He didn’t have the energy to grab the good fortune that seemed to be within reach. He said the word again. "Alone, Hester!"

"You’re not going alone!" she whispered. And that was it!