This week was a slow one for June. She hadn't been called in to work at the book store in over four days. With no real reason to leave the house, she sat in all day, moving from one corner of the apartment to the other. She had become bored with waking up just to go back to sleep, getting high only to come back down again, eating simply to become hungry once more after a few hours.
She was bored with her life this week. The boredom had gotten so intense today, though, that she was driven to call her grandma -- a phone call that was guaranteed to consume at least two hours of her time. It was also guaranteed to be an intellectually stimulating conversation, as well. June figured it was worth it.
She scrolled through her phone book down to the contact that was named "The 13th." She was convinced that her grandma was the thirteenth disciple, the way she talked about nothing but Jesus and devoted her life to getting June "back on the right path." The phone rang, and rang. Finally, the answering machine came on and June realized why her grandma wouldn't have been available to answer the phone. Saturday evening mass started at 6, ten minutes ago.
She quickly decided that she would get her fix tonight, as well. Why not? she thought as she put on her shoes and threw her jacket around her shoulders. She grabbed her Bible and quickly remembered that Catholics don't use the Bible. She threw it back down and locked to door behind her. "Saturday night at six," she mumbled to herself. "Who the heck goes to church, let alone Catholic church, on a Saturday night at six?"
She took the scenic route instead of cutting across the back lawn of the church. The statue of the virgin mother that stood directly behind the church scared her, the way the light reflected off of it at dusk. She figured the eulogy would be dry and boring as well, so she was in no rush to sit through it. She found her only incentive for going to mass was communion. Communion at every mass was the best thing about the Catholic church as far as June was concerned.
"The word of the lord," he said.
"Thanks be to God," the parish responded.
June dipped her finger into the small bowl of holy water and made the sign of the crucifix over her body. She made her way to her seat in the very last pew; she wasn't interested in sitting any closer. The droplet of holy water rolled down the middle of her forehead to her brow. She used her sleeve to wipe it away.
Just as soon as she sat down, it was time for her to get back up again. Communion was only served from the very front of the church, near the altar. She took her spot at the end of the line and waited patiently for her turn.
As she got closer to the front of the line, she couldn't remember whether it was left over right or right over left. She figured either one would have to do; she wasn't ready to let Father Eric place the wafer directly onto her tongue, especially considering the number of tongues that came before hers. "The body of Christ," Father Eric said.
June looked up at him, her left hand over her right. They stood there in silence for a few seconds. June alternated her hands, putting her right hand over her left. "The body of Christ," he repeated.
"Oh, Amen!" she said. It had been a while since the last time June took communion. The nit-picky techincal things had evaded her mind. He placed the wafer into her hands and June placed it in her mouth and chewed.
"The blood of Christ," the graying woman said as June stopped in front of her.
"Amen," June said. Chewed-up pieces of the wafer were plainly visible in her mouth when she opened it to speak. She grabbed the cup of wine and turned it up to finish off its contents.
Making her way back to the last pew, she cleaned the remnants of the wafer from her teeth with her tongue and fingernail.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment