Tuesday November 25, 2014
7:13 PM Eastern Standard Time
St. Michael's Catholic School- Auditorium
Indianapolis, Indiana
“And so thank you for inviting me to speak here tonight, and I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving, and the rest of the Holiday season thereafter.” Wendy concluded, smiling at the audience as she had wrapped up her speech. She furtively glanced down at her watch. Just under twelve minuts- and she had been allotted fifteen. She breathed a sigh of relief- the last thing she had wanted to do was exceed her time.
All in all she thought she had done well. She had hit her points correctly, and made sure to mention words of welcome to the newly appointed Archbishop Fuquet, just arrived from France. Considering she had arrived to the dinner about half an hour late due to a frozen car being unwilling to start, she was lucky she had even managed to get there on time.
Now, however, the room was dead silent, the audience not reacting at all to the conclusion of her speech. An uncomfortable miasma hovered in the air, and Wendy’s feeling of relief crumbled. In fact, looking out at the faces in the audience, she saw more than a few people were outraged as if scandalized. She thought back to the anectdotes she had given about life as a wrestler… none of them had been that bad, right?
Suddenly embarrassed, Wendy slipped from the podium, and retreated back to her seat at one of the head tables. Now a smattering of applause had broken out, more polite than enthusiastic, definitely nowhere near the level of the previous speaker, and the sour expressions on many of the faces had not changed.
The Mistress of Ceremonies was taking her place back up at the podium. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson for that… interesting speech. Now before you all go downstairs for desert and the auction, I have a couple final announcements to make.”
Her face burning, Wendy bypassed her seat, and scurried along the side wall of the room, rushing as fast as she could to the back without running. A few people shot her looks, but most had turned their attention back towards the MC, and Wendy slipped out of the room, into the hallway.
She just needed time to think and vent to herself. She’d worked hard on that speech, and for it to be so ill-received had been a major disappointment. She had heard laughter throughout, and thought people had enjoyed some of her jokes, but in the end… she had seen the expressions on their faces. Were the parishoners of St. Michael’s really so narrow-minded that they still, even after eight years of living here, refused to accept her because of her profession? \
As she bounded down the stairs, she thought about just leaving, but that was impossible- after all, her daughter and husband were still upstairs, and they had only taken one car. Besides, she really wasn’t one to just run away, and doing so might make things worse. The best thing she could do was just take a few minutes, vent her anger and disappointment silently, cool off, and rejoin the group for desert and the auction.
In fact, she found herself walking into the reception room right now. Several volunteers had slipped down earlier, and were busy putting out an assortment of pastries, fruits, and vegetables, while on another table the items of the charity auction were lined up, ready for inspection. Wendy found an isolated chair and sat down, taking a deep breath and letting her anger and disappointment run its course. She knew the MC was a bit on the wordy side- she had a few minutes to wait until everyone else came in.
But two people were already approaching her, having slipped out of the banquet as well. Wendy looked up as Terrence approached her, their daughter in tow. “How are you doing?” he asked.
“They hated the speech, Terry,” Wendy sighed. “I worked so hard on it, and they just…”
“Nah, they didn’t,” Terrence said with a shrug. “They ate it up! Especially when you told that story about-.”
Wendy shot her husband a disbelieving look. “I saw them at the end of it, Terrence. People looked disgusted and appalled.”
“Oh, um… yeah…” Terrence said, suddenly nervous. “Uh… well…”
Theresa was more blunt. “You mispronounced the Archbishop’s name, Mom.”
“What? I did?” Wendy asked, puzzled. “No, I looked at it. It’s pronounced Fu-“
“No its not.” Terrence quickly interrupted. “FOO-quay. It’s pronounced FOO-quay. Like rhymes with bouquet.”
“Are you sure?” Wendy asked, her brow furrowing.
“Dead sure…’ Terrence intoned.
Wendy bit her lip. Come to think of it, because she had missed the opening of the dinner, she HADN’T actually heard the name pronounced before. Shoot… she should have asked to make sure. Well, that was an embarrassing feaux pax, she realized, color creeping back into her face. But still did it warrant so many people being furious with her? “And I pronounced it…” she began to muse.
“Fuckwit.” Her daughter gleefully finished for her.
Wendy’s head snapped up. “THERESA!” she hissed, scandalized at her daughter’s language. “Don’t say that EVER, but ESPECIALLY in a church, and I did NOT pronounce it…” her voice slowly trailed off as she saw her husband nodding slowly “…like…” suddenly it felt like her insides were turning to mush. “…that.”
Dead silence reigned over the room, although she could hear the sound of scores of footsteps coming down the stairs. Evidently the congregation had been released and was coming. She looked at Terrence and saw the most pitying expression he’d ever given her.
“Oh God…” Wendy whimpered, as the full realization of what she’d done hit her. “Oh God… I just called the Archbishop… Oh God. What do I do?” Now she really wanted to run away. Only one problem- the way out was back up the stairs, headlong into the rush of people coming back down.
Terrence could tell his wife was starting to panic. “Okay, calm down, hon. It’s not the end-“
“THEY’VE EXECUTED PEOPLE FOR STUFF LIKE THIS!” Wendy hissed hysterically.
Terrence’s brow furrowed. “Like, recently? Or back in medieval times?”
People were now streaming into the room, which was becoming full and uncomfortably hot. Why were the walls swimming? Sister Abigail was entering, and the look she turned on Wendy was one that would have slayed a lesser human being. For the first time, she understood Theresa’s claims that the woman was a dragon in disguise. Other people were streaming into the room, and more than a few were casting her looks.
“I gotta get out of here.” Wendy panted swallowing down a wave of nausea. “Terry, help me, I gotta…”
“Wendy, just calm down…” Terrence said again. “It was an honest mistake, you’re fine… you’re okay… everyone will understand.”
“Uh Mom…” Theresa piped up, undermining her father’s reassurances in one fell swoop. “He’s coming over…”
Wendy looked up, now in full fledged panic. Sure enough, the Archbishop was making his way towards her, stopping every couple of feet to meet another one of his new constituents. Still, even with all the handshaking, he’d be there in a matter of seconds.
And then…
She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. No escape from the highest ranking religious figure in Central Indiana, that she had just insulted multiple times. No escape from this confining catacomb.
And no escape from the darkness that was quickly closing in around her.
=================
Wednesday December 4, 2014
2:32 PM Eastern Standard Time
St. Michael’s Catholic Church- Confessional Booth
Indianapolis, Indiana
“And then I fainted,” Wendy said miserably, her hands clutching the hair on the side of her head in anguish. “I nosedived right into the vegetable platter and catapulted the French Onion dip right into the Archbishop’s face. The next thing I know, I’m waking up in the car, ranch dressing in my hair, and Terrence is driving me home…” She sighed, her tale finally finished. “So, well, Father…”
Silence answered her. Damning silence, and Wendy’s heart sank as she waited condemnation that was surely about to come. The confessional booth itself was shaking, as if God’s wrath was about to unleash on her own head right then and there.
And then, on the other side of the partition, she heard wheezing on the other side- almost as if someone was laughing and trying to keep as quiet as possible about it. “Father? Are you okay?”
Another moment of silence came, and Wendy finally heard a long, deep intake of breath. “Sorry, child. Had to clear my throat.” Father Joseph’s voice came through the partition. “Go ahead.”
“Well, what can I do, Father? I mean… I’m not going to be excommun… i… cate…” Her voice slowed to a stop as something clicked in her mind. “Wait… Father Joseph? What happened to Father Theodore?”
There was a long pause, this one lasting seemingly an eternity before the priest spoke. “Uh… he had to uh… go to the bathroom… so I stepped in for him…”
“He ducked out in the middle of my confession?” Wendy was aghast. Not just any confession too, but the most embarrassing one she’d ever given in her life!
“Uh well… I… um… stop elbowing me, you idiot!”
Those last words were whispered, but Wendy could still faintly hear them. She suddenly stood up, frowning. What the HELL was going on?
Father Joseph’s voice came out a bit louder this time. “Anyways, my child, what happened was definitely unfortunate, and I recommend…” the priest suspected something was wrong. “Wendy? Are you still there?”
The door to the confessional booth swung open, and Father Joseph, along with Father Theodore and Father Declan, turned to regard her.
“REALLY?!” Wendy nearly exploded. What in the heck were THREE priests doing in the confessional booth? Only the senior pastor, Father Simon, was missing. “What are you all doing in there?”
All three priests at least had the decency to look sheepish. “So… uh… surprise! It’s uh… triple absolution day!” Father Declan attempted lamely. Wendy merely crossed her arms and put on her best death glare, entirely unconvinced.
“Okay, okay. They really wanted to hear the story so I let them in to listen. None of us were actually there when it happened.” Father Theodore confessed.
“But… confession… private… confidential…” Wendy stammered, her face somehow even becoming redder.
“Not really confidential when every Catholic in the city already knows what happened…” Declan responded with a shrug, only to receive a slap to the back of his head from Father Joseph. “Ow!”
“Wendy, exactly what sin were you confessing?” Father Theodore, far more practical than his two colleagues, asked, although he remained smiling.
Wendy stared at him incredulously. “I called the Archbishop a…”
“You mispronounced his name. In about the worst fashion imaginable, but mispronouncing a name is not really a sin. Therefore, they weren’t really eavesdropping on a confession, were they?”
Wendy’s jaw dropped, although her face remained red. “Well… I… uh…”
“We’re sorry we eavesdropped,” Father Joseph said. “But it was WAY funnier the way you told it than when the Archbishop told us…”
“The Archbishop told you?” Wendy felt faint again.
“Yeah, he was tearing up telling it, he was laughing so hard. He’s a good guy. You’ll like him… he’d love to meet you. Conscious this time.” Father Joseph grinned. “Really child, you have nothing to worry about.”
Wendy wanted to scream. “I’ve been anguishing over this for a WEEK now, and everyone else just brushed it off?! WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME?”
All three priests shrugged, unable to answer. Wendy, completely out of things to say and even more out of fight, turned around, shaking her head and walking away, her fists still clenched at her sides.
“God be with you Wendy, now and forever,” Father Theodore called after her, sensing she was leaving.
“You. Too.” Wendy mumbled as she trudged out of the sanctuary, heading towards the exit, reminding herself faintly to drop off Theresa’s forgotten homework at the school across the street.
“I bet this kind of stuff never happens to Protestants,” she sighed forlornly as the doors to the church shut behind her.
No comments:
Post a Comment