Episode 40: Deliverance

WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ IS:

IRRELIGIOUS, IRREVERENT, AND IRRELEVANT.

THE PEOPLE, PLACES, AND EVENTS CONTAINED IN ST MUCKYMUCK ARE COMPLETELY FICTIONAL.  ANY AND ALL RESEMBLANCES TO REAL PEOPLE, REAL PLACES, AND/OR REAL EVENTS PAST, PRESENT, OR FUTURE IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL.  

IN FACT, ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ANYTHING AT ALL WILL BE REMARKABLY COINCIDENTAL.

First Sunday in Lent

St. Mocheomoc Cathedral

The bell rang loudly from St. Mocheomoc Cathedral, overlooking the steely-gray River Clyde.  People were gathering for the noon mass, most especially the choir.  Folks appeared to be moving rather slowly on a Sunday morning following two days of intense snow.

“Can you believe this weather, Ina?” said Shug.  The two of them were standing by the radiator next to the organ trying to warm up.

“No, I cannae believe it.  After all that sun we had,” she replied.

“Do you think this will reactivate St. Odious’ Curse and send everyone back into Hibernation?” asked Shug, shivering.

“No, I don’t think so.  Deacon Walther Wetterberg, the weatherman on a Vatican Direct, said we have to receive 6.66 inches of snow in 666 seconds for the SOC to become activated.  We haven’t had that.  Yet.  This lot,” she said, scanning the nave of the cathedral, “are in the preliminary stages.  Us, too, Shug.  You can see for yourself.”

Shug looked around the choir.  Everyone was looking distinctly groggy.   Grace Kelly Perth was sitting in her usual spot with her hand over her forehead.  Emily, who usually radiated bright sweetness was gazing up at the altar, her eyes transfixed, out of focus.  Chris, the organist, was making his way up the central aisle with a giant cup of coffee from Sam n’ Ella’s café.

“This weather is mince, isn’t it?” he said, approaching Shug and Ina.

“Aye,” said Ina.  “Dreadful.  Just dreadful.  Looks like you’ve come prepared, though,” she continued, pointing at Chris’ cup.

“Would you believe I’ve had six of these this morning already?”

“Wow,” said Shug, amazed.  “You’ll be hating life about half way through Fr. Eric’s homily.  And the readings are long at this mass, too!”

“Nah!” said Chris.  “It’s having no effect whatsoever.  I’ve only managed one warm up for this morning.”

“Oh well, we’ll just offer it up for Lent, I suppose,” said Ina, resignedly.  “What else can we do?”

The door to the cathedral burst open.  Two buffed and handsome men in black suits entered wearing sunglasses, holding walkie-talkies, and chewing gum in a manly way.  They looked around the cathedral suspiciously.  Then one of them motioned out the door.  In a moment, a severe girl entered carrying a clipboard, a pencil, and talking on a mobile phone.  Her hair was neatly coiffed in a bun and she wore a grey business suit.  She was followed by a handsome lad with black hair and black eyes who was carrying an overnight bag and a large pouf.  He was followed by two handsome boys who threw down an emerald green carpet.  A third man in black and sunglasses entered holding the hand of a positively glowing Mia Kwan Malone.  She threw her hands in the air, struck a pose, and declared, “Good Morning!   I’m heeeeeeeerrrrrrreeee!”

“Oh, excellent!” said Ina, cheerfully.  “And here I thought we were going to be short on sopranos.”  Mia and her entourage got settled and Chris began the warm ups:

           “One smart feller, he felt smart…two smart fellers, they felt smart…”

Fr. Gabriel came out from the sacristy.  “Good morning, Shug.  Have you seen Eric?”

“No, I haven’t.  In fact, I can’t remember the last time I did see him.  It’s been several weeks.”

“And what about Bandit and Ginger?  Any word?” he asked Shug and Ina, a concerned look coming over him.

“No,” they said together. 

“Emma said after the 10 o’clock mass that she was going to go out and look for them this afternoon.  She’s going to use her new specs she got.  She’s certain she’ll find them,” said Ina.

“Ah, well, we’ll add them to the prayers then.  They’ll be fine.  Anyway, Emma will find them.  But Eric had better arrive for mass soon.  I’ve got to go with the Archbishop to St. Pulcherius to plan the St. Mocheomoc Day festivities next weekend.  And we’ve got to set up for tea! Eamonn will go apoplectic if we don’t have the biscuits out in time.”

*  *  *

Outside the cathedral.

As the choir was preparing for the first Sunday in Lent and the bell in the campanile announced that mass would be starting in five minutes, an enormous spaceship lowered and hovered just above ScarlettFriars Street.  It was nearly five stories tall and emanated a faint, green glow that was reflected in the snow lying around.

The door to the cathedral burst open of its own accord a second time, the ship rotated open and a long ramp protruded from it.  Two figures appeared and began to descend the ramp into the cathedral: a man and a kitten.  As they got to the bottom, they turned back toward the ship.  A whole group of seven or eight tall, green aliens stood there resembling stick figures and with large oval, dark green eyes and sporting green sweaters.

A robust, resonant voice sounded from the man at the base of the ramp.  “You all look splendid in the jumpers that Nettie made for you.  They’ve all got the initial of your first name emblazoned on it in three dimensional letters from your native alphabet.”  The aliens looked at their sweaters as well as their neighbors’ and nodded, smiling brightly.  One of them looked distinctly like a “V.”  “Well, we must be going.  Thanks for the lift to mass this morning.”  The man and the kitten waved and the aliens waved back.  He then turned toward the church.  The ship rotated shut, there were several deafening blasts from a horn that sounded like “Shave and a haircut” and the ship zoomed away.

“Here comes Fr. Griffiths!” said Bebe. 

Grace seemed to come alive and sat up as he came toward the altar.  “Why, he’s positively transfigured,” she said, awestruck.  “And he’s been working out, I dare say.  He looks so…fit.”  She growled like a cat.

“Good morning, ladies,” said Fr. Eric.  His voice was vibrant, almost enigmatic.  He went into the sacristy where he began vesting for mass.  Fr. Gabriel came in.

“Oh, there you are, Eric.  I’ll be off to the seminary now with Stefano.”

“That’s absolutely fine,” said Eric, adjusting his stoll.  “I can handle everything here with no problems whatsoever.”

Fr. Gabriel considered him for a moment.  “You look different Eric.....are you using new hair gel?”

As Eric exited the sacristy, he walked past the choir.  His robes were definitely fuller and he seemed to shine with a luminescent and gloriously golden shimmer.  Grace growled a second time.  Quite distinctly she sang, “Can’t help lovin’ that man o’ mine.”

“LOOK!” exclaimed Bonnie Belle.  “There’s that wee Nettie!  She’s soooo cute, isn’t she?”

©2011 Steven Gorman.  All rights reserved.