I sat nervously on the wooden pew beside Paul fidgeting as the rows behind us filled up. When everyone was seated the men’s, side was filled, and men were standing in the back of the chapel, but the women filled only three quarters of the rows even though many of them had children sitting with them. A man stood from the front row and standing in front of the pulpit raised his hand and I followed as everyone around me stood. As everyone stood a woman left her place on the front row as well and sat down at a piano in the front of the church and began to play. The moment the music began it flowed into the room like water and filled it with a pressure that pushed everything out of its way. I had never heard such a pure sound and when the congregation joined in, immediately overwhelming the voice of the leader, the music swelled lifting me to such a plane that I thought I would weep. The voices around me were weak and tremulous, but all the voices merged created an instrument of power and perfection. I didn’t know the song nor did I try to pick out the words but just stood there rapt as the sounds washed over me. Human voices exuberant and unrestricted, unafraid to be heard were too beautiful for me to comprehend. For the first song I forgot about everything but the music even the people surrounding me faded leaving only their voices. Then the voices tapered off and the piano rounded off the song. I saw Mary standing near the end of one of the women’s pews and I stared at the tan skin of her neckline, the sweep of her profile and her delicate arms held loosely at her side. Then the piano began again in a series of deep foreboding notes but this time I watched Mary as she sang. Her eyes shined as her chest rose and fell in time with her deep breaths. I strained my hearing, but I could not make out her voice amongst the crowd’s. I wished that I were standing beside her with her skirts lightly brushing my leg as the music filled the air around us instead of crowded between Paul and another village man. There were no vampires in the church, and I didn’t see the twins or any of the other men that I saw frequently with my brother. With the church full though I imagined that at least two hundred of the villagers were attending that morning’s services.
The second song faded away and the musicians moved back to their seats, but everyone remained standing and silent except for the creak of boards under their feet. The preacher walked down the aisle between the pews greeting his parishioners with a warm glance. There were no handshakes or quiet words here just the steady beat of his freshly shined shoes on the wooden floor and inhaling and exhaling breath all around me. He moved to the front of the church with his easy sauntering shuffle and then stepped up onto the platform and moved behind the pulpit. He rested his arms on the podium so that they disappeared, and he looked out over his flock, his eyes moving slowly from the men on the left to the women in the right. When his eyes passed over me, I felt exposed as if it were I instead of he who stood in front of the crowd and that he was judging me. The shepherd of the village with his beloved sly manner was not present in those eyes of iron and black. I exhaled as his eyes passed beyond me though I hadn’t realized that I was holding my breath and I wondered if everyone in the church felt as if they’d been weighed, measured and found wanting. Perhaps that was why the back aisle was filled with standing men.
The pastor gave no other signal than the bowing of his head and the congregation followed suit closing their eyes. I bowed my head as well but couldn’t help but to peek through squinted eyes as the preacher prayed. He spoke slowly, not as if he was grasping for the words, but confidently as if he were simply allowing for a proper digestion of their meaning.
“Father in heaven, we know that we have sinned in your sight. We know that we are no more than insects in your hands, but we pray that you forgive us our sins as you have promised and that you cradle us lovingly in your grasp. Protect your people Lord, for they love you. Keep us from the bite of the unclean demons in our midst and deliver us onto your promised land. Amen.”
As he finished the rustling of skirts and pants as everyone sat down filled the air and several kids ran happily from the chapel during the commotion. When the preacher’s stern
