The Gonkers 3: The Apostles by Mary Pearson
Robert Bootzer had a suggestion. “Take them to see Father Andrew. I’ll get the Book.”
***
They waited until Mass had finished to approach Father Andrew, but they didn’t have to tell him that something was amiss with the children. The entire Mass had been filled with very unGonkerlike shouts of “Hosanna to God Most High!” and “Alleluia!” and such, until everyone in the church-- who were not a lot of people on account of the storm-- were staring at their family. “We need help,” Richard Bootzer said, and he handed Father Andrew the book. “Can anything be done?”
Father met his gaze levelly. “We can pray.”
“They’re praying now.” (The children were still praising God aloud.) He rolled his eyes. “I think we need less praying, not more.”
There was a pause before Father Andrew said, “That’s debatable.” Then he sighed. “Get in a circle and join hands. Now I need you to understand that there are ramifications. Prayer is a powerful thing and the consequences of answered prayers can be far reaching. Are you still willing to go through with this prayer?” When they all nodded he sighed and raised His hands up to Heaven. “Heavenly Father, we ask you to look down on us who are gathered in your name. You have told us that where two or more are gathered in Your name You are in the midst of them. We beseech you… look down on us in this moment of trouble. Make all things as they should be. We trust you. Please undo anything which is not your holy Will for this family. Make them all the best Christians that they can be, and bring us all closer to You. We ask this in the name of Jesus Who is God!”
This time there was no lightning bolt or spinning or wind. Angels didn’t sing audibly. Nothing appeared to have happened. But suddenly everything was different. The only person who had any recollection of all that had happened in the past couple of years was Father Andrew. From the children’s perspective, they were just regular kids who lived in the country in a yurt community with their parents. There was no magic. There never had been. They had no treasure chest of mementos. They had never traveled back through time and space.
For his part Father Andrew almost cried with relief when he saw Brody Bootzer standing next to his parents, very much alive. “Thank you, Lord.” he said.
“Why? “ Aunt Gen looked at him with innocent eyes.
Father Andrew breathed out. “For Brody being alive.”
“We are all grateful to God that the CPR worked,” Nicole Herubin said. “And there was no brain damage, praise God.”
“Mom, we’ve got get home and let sqwiggly out. I accidentally left him in the rec yurt and he probably needs to go, if you know what I mean.” Lucien grinned at Father Andrew apologetically.
Father Andrew’s eyes flew open. “Sqwiggles…?”
“Our sqwap,” Lucien said.
“You have a sqwap.” Father said in amazement.
“Of course.” Lucien waved as he headed for the door. “Doesn’t everyone?”
Maybe so. Father Andrew’s eyes brimmed with tears. “See you all at church next Sunday, then?”
“Our turn to serve,” Lily called out as they left.
***
Later that afternoon Father replaced the Bible on the Altar with a perfectly normal one. Then he took both of the books to the attic of the rectory and hid them in the bottom drawer of a desk which had been there since the Cathedral had been built. Before closing the drawer he kissed his fingers and touched the Bible.
Sofia and the Hall of Apparitions.
(Five Years Later)
Sofia Sherman was a dancer. She had been dancing in the ballet since she was three years old and tonight there had been a special Nutcracker performance in the basement of Cathedral. After the show there were petit fours and punch and when they were finally ready to go home they were practically the last to leave. Her whole family was already in the parking lot when she realized she had left her slippers behind. “I need to get them before the doors are locked! “
“Be quick,” her mother said.
The lights on the stairwell had already been turned off so she clicked them on before making her way back down. On the landing there was a little door she had never noticed before, which was odd. She had gone to church here her whole life. Above the door there was a faded bronze marker, which read. HA. “Ha,” she said aloud. “That’s funny.” Then she had a very faint memory that it was something more than just funny. It was significant.
She reached for the knob and turned it.