Pie Town - Lynne Hinton [35]
“Thank you,” she replied. “This is Father George, Mrs. Henderson.” Malene spoke directly in the woman’s ear. “He’s the new priest at the church.”
Mrs. Henderson shook her head and grimaced.
“Are you from around here?” Malene asked as everyone turned in his direction, curious about his answer.
“Ohio,” he replied. “I was born and raised in the Midwest.”
Malene nodded. “Then I expect living out here will be a big change for you.” She leaned down to Mrs. Henderson in the wheelchair. “He’s from Ohio,” Malene yelled to her.
“I don’t care,” Mrs. Henderson yelled back.
Malene shook her head and wheeled the woman over to a table.
“You got any boots?” Bernie rejoined the conversation.
Father George shook his head.
“Well, you’re going to need some boots. That parish house has always had a den of rattlesnakes take up residence there every summer,” Bernie noted.
“I think you’re talking about inside the church,” Oris responded. “And you’ll need more than boots to handle that brand of venom.”
Fedora turned around and made a hissing noise.
“See what I mean,” Oris said. “Your Holy Family Church is sort of like this little village.”
The priest seemed confused.
“Ain’t no pie in Pie Town and no holy family in that church,” Oris explained.
Malene locked the brakes on Mrs. Henderson’s wheelchair and walked back over to where the priest was standing. “Do you need anything to help make your transition more comfortable?” she asked, ignoring her father’s comments.
Father George was glad to focus on something other than the two old feuding neighbors. “I can’t think of a thing,” he replied. “Father Joseph got everything ready for me, and the house committee has gone out of their way to make sure the refrigerator and cabinets are well stocked.” He nodded with a big smile. “Now I just look forward to the opportunity to meet the members of the congregation and learn how best to serve each and every one of you.” He had practiced that opening line a number of times, and he thought it came off quite sincerely.
“You need some boots,” Bernie repeated. “And just make sure you keep that back door to the sanctuary closed.” He turned to Oris, who had sat down beside him. “You remember that time a skunk wandered in there?” He laughed. “Father Joseph tried to shoo the damn thing out and got the whole place sprayed.”
“I remember him swinging that incense bucket two or three times before and after Mass for about a month. Still didn’t cover up that skunk smell!” Oris slapped his leg.
“We had to dry-clean every altar cloth in the sanctuary, not to mention Father Joseph’s vestments.” Fedora shook her head. “It was terrible.” She placed her hand over her nose.
“You know, I still think Father Joseph sort of smells like that old skunk,” Oris commented.
“Daddy, that was more than twenty years ago,” Malene responded.
“Still, don’t you think he sort of took up that smell?” Oris asked. He turned to Bernie.
“You know, come to think of it, Oris, you might be right. You know how they say people start looking like their pets? It’s pretty lonesome out there at the church, way up that long dirt road. Maybe he and the skunk made friends.” Bernie winked at his old friend. “Instead of looking like each other, they started smelling like each other.”
“I heard of stranger things happening out in the desert.” Oris grinned. “It can seem a mighty long ways from town after midnight,” he added. “A skunk can be good company even though it can take a lot of Bible reading to get one baptized!” He and Bernie laughed.
Malene shook her head again. “They’re just teasing you,” she explained to the new priest. “You are only five miles from town, there’s plenty of people who’ll be coming and going from the church, and with three parishes to serve, I doubt you’ll get so lonely you need to take up with the wildlife.”
“Still, keep the door closed