Page 77 of I Am the Messenger

"Oh, Da-ad!" yells George from the kitchen. "I spilled it!"

"I bloody knew it!"

Tony gets up, shaking his head. "Can you see yourself out while I sort this shit out?"

"No worries."

I leave the big-screen TV and the big house, relieved. A pleasing result.

I sleep harder than I imagine possible and wake up early. I'd been reading a beautiful, strange book called Table of Everything last night. I search for it but realize it's fallen between my bed and the wall. Halfway through looking for it, I remember that today's the day. Meet a Priest Day. I abandon the search and get up.

Audrey, Marv, and Ritchie arrive at my place at eight o'clock and we head over to the church. The father's already there, pacing up and down, going over his sermon.

Other people show up.

Marv's mate with the kegs and the karaoke.

The jumping-castle people.

We've got the barbecues, and we arrange for Ritchie and a few of his friends to guard the beer while the sermon's on.

By quarter to ten, people start showing up in earnest, and I realize I have to pick up Milla.

"Hey, Marv"--I can't believe I'm doing this--"could I borrow your car for ten minutes?"

"What?" I can tell he's going to make the most of this. "You want to borrow my shitbox car?"

I don't have the time. "Yes, Marv. I take back everything I've ever said about it."

"And?"

And?

I realize. "I'll never say anything bad about it again."

He smirks in victory and throws me the keys. "Look after it, Ed."

Now, that wasn't called for. Marv knows I'll have to restrain myself from saying something. He even waits, the bastard, but I say nothing.

"Good boy," he says, and I leave.

Milla's waiting anxiously and has the door open before I even walk up the porch steps.

"Hello, Jimmy," she says.

"Hi, Milla."

At the car, I open the door for her and we drive back to the church. A nice breeze comes through the broken window.

When we arrive, it's five to ten and I'm amazed. The church is packed. I even spot Ma walking inside in a green dress. I don't think she gives a toss about the beer. She just doesn't want to miss out on what's happening.

I find one of the few vacant seats and ask Milla to sit there.

"What about you, Jimmy?" she asks nervously. "Where are you going to sit?"

"Don't worry," I tell her. "I'll find somewhere," but I don't. I join the people who stand at the back of the church, waiting for Father O'Reilly to come out.

When ten o'clock strikes, the bells of the church take possession of the congregation, and now everyone--the kids, the powdered ladies with handbags, the drunks, the teenagers, and the same people who are there week in, week out--falls down to silence.