“Come in,” the boy said, so quietly that Père Matthieu convinced himself he had not heard it. He just opened his mouth and closed it again, like a landed fish trying to breathe. “Come in,” the object of his affection said again. “I can’t.” “Père Matthieu can’t.” “No.” “So shed him with your clothes, and put him back on when you leave.” “No.” “That’s the beauty of being nude in a river; you’re nobody. You’re anybody you want to be. It’s just a dream.” You used the same words to get the girl in there. The priest opened and closed his mouth. “Come in,” the boy said again. And he did.
