[Sodium_noir] A Late Friday Morning for Hope

[Hope Zagorski]

Hope Zagorski, Sofia Kolwalski, Father Bellamy
Mortals all
St. Bridget's

Sofia Kolwalski notices the newcomer and something about her white face and arrested stare makes her pause in refolding blankets - always a mistake to allow another to do this! "Can I help you?" she asks her tone polite if not actually friendly. 


Hope wants to leave, but is frozen in the spot where she now stands, at the very edge of the church’s interior, caught, seemingly in limbo between the two points.  Somehow, she finds the ability to speak.  "I came for...Morning Mass?" She looks at the woman through the netting of her veil.    


Mrs Kolwalski's thin mouth folds into an even tighter line. "Father Bellamy has been called away."  She replies.  "Last rites." She crosses herself.  


Hope crosses herself.  Last Rites.  She knew what that meant.  She'd been present for more than a few of those, and unfortunately, many of them had been her relatives.  "So Mass is cancelled?"  Hope asks.  "Doesn't this parish have another priest that can perform Mass?"

Sofia gestures a curt negative. "None that stay. This parish is one that tests Faith." 

Morning Mass?  Cancelled?  Hope crosses herself a second time.  What sort of city was this, where Mass was cancelled due to lack of proper staffing?  This was a big city, not a hole in the wall town.  But, she reminds herself, it certainly wasn’t Chicago.  

Sofia's expression is wooden in the face of this smart young woman's evident surprise. She is inclined to agree actually although she would never voice this opinion. Mass cancelled? Is a *disgrace*.

"Father, he is a good priest," she offers instead. "I will tell him you . . ."

The dim interior of St Bridget's lis suddenly illuminated.  Hope looks at the woman, and then to the light that has suddenly come on.  What was causing that?  She wonders.

A wide shaft of sunlight falls across Hope and Mrs K as the main doors open.  A tired looking man in priest's black stumps in.  When he sees Hope he smiles in welcome and his face lightens, the weariness dissipates.  Hope turns to see Father Bellamy coming through the doors, and she smiles back at him.  She really was glad to see him again.  He nods at Mrs Kolwalski. "Thank you for being here to greet our visitor, Sofia." Bellamy walks toward Hope and extends his hand. "Officer Zagorski," he says. "How can I help?"

Hope smiles at Father Bellamy.  "I came to attend Mass.  Are you still going to have it?" 

Bellamy grins. "Yes indeed! You have just doubled the day's expected attendance - it's already a good day here in St Bridget's. A day of hope."  Bellamy heads toward the vestry, shedding his overcoat.  Hope smiles at that remark.  Her name was Hope, and like her sisters, she had been named for a Virtue.  

As he disappears into the small room Mrs K says, "And the parishioner, Mrs Harrington-Smythe? She is  . . . with the Lord?"  She crosses herself dutifully but still her curiosity gleams through her piety. 

Hope looks around the parish uneasily at mention of the dead woman.  She notes that the building was not in the best of shape.  By the standards of Chicago parishes, it would actually be falling apart.  And yet, it was the ONLY Catholic church left in the city.  What sort of city had she come to, where religion was so meanly dismissed?  And why didn't the Diocese offer them assistance?  The Archdiocese of Chicago often called upon the wealthier parishes to help the poorer ones.  

Bellamy emerges robed for mass and grimaces comically at this.

"Mrs Harrington-Smythe will probably outlive me!" he remarks dryly. "I believe today's little charade was for the benefit of her family. She has a cold! She became a little weary of her concerned relatives  - in her words - 'gathering like vultures'!"  Bellamy smiles at Hope. "Eva is a parishioner of very long standing here. She has been a parishioner of St Bridget's for longer than I have been priest. She is very, very old, she is very, very wealthy and she is more than a little . . . mischievous!"

Hope looks at Bellamy.  She was glad that this woman, whoever she was, was okay. Old, wealthy and mischeivous, hmm?  Sounded like a few people back in Chicago she'd heard of.  Like her own great grandmother, God rest her soul.  

Although Bellamy still smiles, his expression becomes more serious, more focused and turns from Hope and mrs K, moves towards the altar.  His genuflection and prayer are performed with the unobtrusive ease of practise yet appear to Hope as full of steady conviction, nonetheless. He prepares for mass silently and an odd stillness radiates from him; calm fills the church. 

Mass would start soon, so Hope takes a seat in one of the empty pews.  She is aware of the feel of the cool glass beads against her skin.  She had forgotten for a short while that she had been wearing the necklace underneath the suit.  She pulls the rosary out and looks up at Bellamy.  He had a commanding presence, as though he was sure in his Faith.  Surer than any of the priests in her home parish.  Sofia had said that this parish tested Faith.  Bellamy obviously had passed.

For Hope, it would be one of the least attended masses she had ever been to, but she still took comfort in it, and intended to leave five dollars in the collection box.  It was obvious that the church needed all the help it could get...

TBC in another thread

   


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