St Muckymuck - Episode 37 - You'll Never Walk Alone

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.

Chapel House March 5th 11.42pm

“Alright Chi-Chi, alright!” said Father Gabriel impatiently.  “Can’t you wait til the end of the football?”

The little dog was scratching and scraping frantically at the chapel house door. Every night since Father Eric and Nettie had disappeared, Chi-Chi demanded to be taken out for walkies at precisely 11.43pm.

Gabriel reached over and turned off the tv, sighing as he missed the end of the football match.  It was the European Cup Final beamed live by satellite from the football field behind Kilcathclyde’s local primary school.

His favourite team, the Kilcathclyde Kelts was beating Inter Milan an astonishing 33 – 1 with only eight minutes to go. Father Gabriel had asked his parishioners to pray for a home win and, “well” he mused piously, “one should never underestimate the power of prayer.”

He chuckled to himself as he got up, remembering the little wager he’d put on at the local bookmakers Yule B. Broke.  If Kilcathclyde Kelts won, he’d receive an amazing £579,034 in return for his £2 bet.

Gabriel donned his Burberry overcoat, opened the chapel house door and let the little dog pull him in the direction of St Bunnicula Square where Chi-Chi sat on the cobbles staring up at the sky. He gazed at the stars for a few minutes, then on the stroke of midnight, let out a little bark, jumped into the air and trotted off back to the Chapel house, pulling a yawning and bemused Father Gabriel behind him. It was the same routine every night.

When they got back to the chapel house, Chi-Chi trotted up to Father Eric’s room, leapt onto the immaculately made bed and snuggled down atop Eric’s flannelette pyjamas, embroidered with images of St Mocheomoi. 

Gabriel stood at the foot of the stairs, shaking his head, bemused. He wondered briefly where Eric and Nettie were.

He had checked with all the retreats, abbeys and monasteries of Scotland, especially Father Eric’s favourites, Inchmahooch Priory and Crossmapouch Friary, but no-one had seen or heard from him.

“Yes, a bit worrying.....” thought Gabriel absent-mindedly, turning the tv back on, expecting to enjoy the frantic celebrations of the 27,000 home fans as Kilcathclyde Kelts lifted the European Cup.  He frowned as he caught sight of the final scoreline.  Kilcathclyde 33 – Inter Milan 34.

“Aw bugger!” he cursed, throwing the remote control at the tv.

©2011 Steven Gorman.  All rights reserved.