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Ritchie's happy enough, and Audrey's content. Marv's hungover--drinking his father's beer again--and I'm nervous for some reason I can't pinpoint.
The church really only has about a dozen people in it besides us. The emptiness of it is kind of depressing. The carpet is eaten with holes, the pews look morose. Only the leaded windows look sacred and holy. The other people are old and sit hunched like martyrs.
When Father O'Reilly comes out, he says, "Thank you all for coming." For just a moment, he looks a beaten man. He then notices the four people up the back. "A special welcome to the cabdrivers of this world."
His bald patch glistens from a glint of leaded-window light.
He looks up to acknowledge me.
I laugh, the only one.
Ritchie, Marv, and Audrey all turn their heads to stare at me. Marv's eyes are bloodshot something terrible.
"Rough night?" I ask him.
"Shocker."
The father gathers his thoughts and scans the audience. I can see him mustering the strength to carry this out with vigor. Father O'Reilly reaches deep. He begins his sermon.
Afterward, we're all sitting outside, the ceremony gone and done.
"What was the point of all that shepherd shit?" asks Marv. He lies down in the grass. Even his voice sounds like a hangover.
We sit here under a huge willow tree that weeps down around us. Earlier, back inside the church, they handed the plate around for people to put money in just before we left. I put five dollars in, Ritchie had no money, Audrey handed over a few dollars, and Marv went through his pockets and put in a twenty-cent coin and a pen lid.
I looked at him.
"What?"
"Nothing, Marv."
"Damn right."
As we sit under the tree Audrey sings to herself and Ritchie lies back, leaning on the step. Marv falls asleep, and I wait.
Soon, a presence rears up behind me. I know it's Father O'Reilly even before he speaks. It's the impression of the man. The quiet, laughing down-to-earthness of him.
He's behind me and he says, "Thanks for coming, Ed." He looks now at Marv. "That lad looks to be in an even more shit state than you." Some wickedness crosses his face. "For Christ's sake," and we all laugh, except Marv. Marv wakes up.
"Oh." He scratches his arm. "Hi, Father. Nice sermon."
"Thanks." He looks at all of us again. "Thank you all for coming. I'll see you next week?"
"Maybe," I say, but Marv chooses to speak for himself.
"Not a chance," he says.
The father takes it well.
I don't think I know exactly what the father needs, but I know now what I plan to do. Back home, I sit with the Doorman, occasionally reading and watching the picture frames above the television. I make up my mind.
I'm going to fill his church up.
It's just a question of how.
A few days pass and I'm going over ideas on how to get people into that church. I think of asking Audrey, Marv, and Ritchie to bring all their family and friends, but first, none of them is really that reliable, and second, I'll have enough trouble just getting them there a second time.
I do a lot of driving early in the week, turning it over in my mind.
