Did you understand it? Did you understand why it was expected of you? Should you respect this.... this being, this entity who demanded utter control of its subject's lives? Surely there was nothing to fear? Surely if there was something there, it would have struck you down by now? After all, hadn't you spurned every instruction in that silly book in something of a debauched and rebellious lifestyle? Hadn't you acted out in defiance of your ancestry and culture that, as some point or another, held this hocus pocus dear? It made little sense that you were drawn to this little church as you were only passing through; perhaps it was the architecture, the humble stance it took, almost crooked on the street corner. So you caved; after all, were these places not supposed to be peaceful and serene? Maybe you needed that just now. Maybe you needed a break from the hum drum and the grind of everyday life and maybe a church wasn't such a bad escape.
The stone ascents to the huge, oak doors subtly indicated a heightening in the air; a turn in the universe's plan that you still remained blissfully unaware of. Was it just for you? Or perhaps someone else? You would find out soon enough and when you would look back on it, it would seem more bizarre while nothing seemed out of the ordinary just now. To your unadjusted eyes, the cavernous expanse of benches and pews looked gloomy and dreary at best but when they did eventually become accustomed to the low lights of several flickering candles, you began to pick out colours and images on the walls; the dark being a barrier to the hidden details of the church. The clicks of your heels rang out with each sauntering step; a greeting from one lifestyle to another as your head casually swivelled from side to side to observe the iconography and paintings that the Catholic faith held in such high regard.
The reek of incense hit you, assaulting your nose; sickly sweet after the fumes of cars and general progress from the outside world, it might have been welcome if it were not so overpowering. The polished benches and the pews were empty; as you laid one foot in front of the other and alternated your gaze from left to right, expecting to see someone splayed low in prayer but when you reached the top, you had not crossed another living soul: saint or sinner. Immaculate stained-glass windows above the altar caught your eye; you watched as the sun glistened behind them, almost bringing them to life and casting multi-coloured recreations down onto the burgundy carpet. Most impressive was the massive rectangular slab of white marble; home to several candle holders, a chalice, a bible, a large ornate cross and sandwiched between two stunning bunches of white lilies. An apt choice, you thought, seeing as the emphasis on innocence, celibacy and abstinence throughout the ethos was prevalent.
How long had it been since you'd set foot in a church? Years, definitely, but how many? You couldn't even begin to put a number on it. Still, you indulged in a placid sniff of the lilies before pacing to the front of the altar to take in the colossal reconstruction of the crucifixion just below the stained-glass windows; like a tourist would stare in wonder at the Mona Lisa. It was so.... graphic. Arms spread, helpless. Hands and feet, bleeding profusely. Eyes closed and head bent in sorrow; you couldn't decide if it was poignant or unnecessary. So engrossed were you in this profession of faith, the very backbone of an entire religion, you scarcely noticed the rustling off to your right but the source had noticed you. You stared still, unaware that your solitude had been broken, though it might not have been such a bad thing.
"Hello." He woke you successfully from your trance with a single, friendly word. Immediately, your heart began to pound with the sudden fear of ejection. This wasn't a tourist attraction, after all; it was a place of worship, 'God's' house. Would he smell the non-believer in you and insist you leave? However, when you finally did grace him with a glance, he appeared to be smiling as he went about lighting more candles. He would cast you a welcoming grimace in between each match to wick though he seemed to be overly cautious about coming across as too friendly with no intention of escorting you from the premises. Head to toe in black as expected with the white strip across his throat; the usual priest's attire though it was inhabited by a young man; early to mid-thirties. Most striking about him, however, was the crop of flame-like strands atop his head that contrasted beautifully with the monochrome of his outfit; finished off with remarkably pale skin and sapphire blue eyes.
"Hello." Why be rude? You wanted to stay in the sanctity of this beautiful place a little longer, why provoke the person that could end it? Still lighting candles, one after the other, he kept that soft grimace and would occasionally lift his gaze to you in between holding match to wick. Both of you seemingly uncommitted to conversation, you resumed your curious saunter and heightened your eyes to the rafters where several long, strong beams would croak and creak on a windy day under the strain of their only task- keeping the church standing tall. He watched you still during his menial task, a boredom breaker if he was to be truthful; numbers had declined and while he was obliged to keep the church open, he found it pointless and lonely when no one crossed its threshold. Until now.
"We need a bit of repair work done." He broke the silence a few minutes old when he noticed your fascination with the roof and the beams; there was a melody in the accent that you hadn't copped from a mere 'hello'. Bringing yourself back to earth and your attention to the somewhat shy priest, it was only polite to look when he spoke. "Some of the beams are not as strong as they should be, simple wear and tear." He continued, still adding more light to the church, if only a little at a time and casting you the occasional peek from his stance by the altar. "But.... Numbers are not what they used to be, collection plates barely enough to pay the electricity, hence all the candles." The little huff of laughter suggested the joke, so you joined in with you own titter as well though the disappointment and the (dare you think it) failure etched into those handsome features didn't register until after. Perhaps humour and friendliness were a stab at coping; it hadn't escaped you that this place was abandoned. "So repairs will have to wait for a miracle."
"I'll be honest, it's been some time since I was in a church." You confessed with another admiring scan around the huge space. "I mean, I was born and raised Catholic, I just.... Life got in the way, somewhere or another."
"You're not alone in that respect." He replied with a note of understanding and familiarity; as if he heard it every day as he stowed his matches away in his trouser pocket. "Unfortunately, with progress, things sometimes get left behind. I know the scandals of the last few decades have been detrimental, but I think people forget that we're not all like that. Naturally, that doesn't change what happened nor should it; a lot of lives were irreparably damaged but that is not what the church stands for."
"Of course not." You agreed with a swell of pity when he turned to face you fully and though there were several feet between you, the topic clearly didn't sit well with him so you opted to change it. "What about mass? Surely those numbers are somewhat.... Respectable?"
"Not from where I stand." He nodded to the altar before disembarking the steps to the complaining of old, black shoes that you guessed had probably been smart and stylish when they were new. "Numbers seem to get worse every week and while I'm worried about getting the roof fixed, my superiors are worried about keeping the church open. But it doesn't hurt to be optimistic, does it?" Finally even with you, you could see him up close for the breath-taking creature he was - and that feeling appeared to be mutual. You couldn't see it then but when you'd look back, you'd realize the temptation was there, plain as day scattered across his face like the abundance sun-kissed freckles. For a bare few seconds, you stared at each other though the other didn't seem to notice; as if time had stopped for one but not the other.
"You said.... It had been some time since you were in a church." A summation from freshly wetted lips that you nodded to with mild encouragement; he seemed kind and pure, why not make his day a little better? "Is there anything you'd like to know? A tour, perhaps?" Your benign shrug and unfazed grin left you open to suggestion. "Alright then." The good-natured grimace split a little further to match yours and taking it as a challenge. "Come on, let's try a confession." So you followed to where he led; a worn but clean looking confessional box of the deepest mahogany. The door nearest was opened and held for you; even the priesthood not damaging his manners, maybe advancing them before the
snap
behind you sealed you inside. You had never suffered from claustrophobia but now you felt a tightening in your chest and a sort of expectancy in that tiny cubicle; you felt heavy, indulgent and ready.
"Can you hear me?" The familiar voice brought you from your dark musings and back to your exploration; this little humouring of a trapped man.
"I can hear you."
