The Bellboy and the God

“You see my dear boy”, Dimitri Tatiyana pulled the trigger on the little 7 years old thief, “that’s what you get for stealing bread from a general”. Pieces from the little boy’s soft green head scattered across the roof, with the flesh and skull bones difficult to tell what’s what. The boy’s father, Sergio Badalamenti, stood there, his hands folded in prayers to the lord almighty to pardon the sins of his little boy. One small lump of his son’s flesh stuck on his temple and he couldn’t muster up the courage to wipe it off.

“Forgive me, Sergio”, said Dimitri as he climbed down the roof through the rusty old stairs. His leather boots produced an ominous sound, which were hitting like bricks on the ears of Sergio’s eldest daughter, who had just lost her brother to the merciless general who was very particular about his bread. Sophia couldn’t do anything but gawk in horror as within half an hour, his little brother was caught stealing bread from the general’s godown, taken to the roof, and shot dead. Her skinny yet beautiful brother’s lifeless body fell limp on the roof as she stood in horror, aghast, looking at her father who was still murmuring prayers under his breath.

Sergio’s trance broke and he rushed at once to the corpse of his son. It was a lightweight carcass since his son was only 15 kilos in weight, marred with hunger, and his rib case was protruding from his shallow white skin. Sergio slowly climbed down the stairs, following Dimitri’s trail, and walked back to his house, his daughter timidly following him. Both were sobbing.

What’s done is done, but how to explain all this to the mother?

Sergio entered the home first, with the body still in his arms. He carefully put the corpse down on his worn-out concrete floor. Although the boy was lightweight, Sergio himself was not a well-fed man. He struggled to catch his breath. His daughter who entered moments after him, rushed to the kitchen and fetched a glass of cold water, and waited until her father gulped it down in one go. She rushed back inside and brought a peacock blue sheet to cover the corpse of her beloved brother. Sergio finally gathered the strength to look up but he couldn’t look directly into his daughter’s eyes.

“Is that you, dear husband?” shouted Mother from inside. Katarina was a soft-voiced mother of two, but she didn’t look that old. She had maintained a youthfulness about her. She entered the living room to see her husband and daughter both sitting on the floor, facing each other, not making a peep to each other, or to her. But what especially caught her attention was a 4 feet corpse lying on the floor between them, covered in blue linen.

“Who’s that?”, she asked timidly, sensing the doom that had befallen on the poor family.

“It..s.. our son…”, said Sergio without looking at her.

“Look at me. And tell me it's one of your stupid jokes all you bellboys crack in your idle time.”

No response.

“Sergio…”, whispered Mother and began whimpering, as if struggling to catch her breath. The voice jammed in her throat and she slowly ambled towards her husband. She fell on her knees and with the display of endless despair on her face, she looked at her husband, whose face was smeared with tears and snort. She turned her attention to her daughter, whose cheeks had turned crimson red and puffy from all the crying. And then, she didn’t even need to see who the corpse belonged to. “Who?”, she enquired. “Dimitri!” screamed the daughter before her father opened his mouth.

Just then, a commotion was heard outside. Natanya, the neighborhood widow entered from the main door in a hurry. “They are looking for you, Sergio. Father Podrick is here,” she shouted and left. “You must go at once”, said Katarina, who was on the verge of tears. “We will have the burial once you are back, Father,” remarked Sophia.

Sergio stood up, wiped away the tears built up on his face, and walked out without saying a word. With a heavy heart, he walked towards the monastery where Father Podrick was about to deliver his last sermon before leaving for Rome. Sergio usually had a boyish spunk in his walk but today, every step he took seemed heavy. His eyes were red, and his rob was smeared in his son’s blood. It didn’t strike him to change his robe as he passed through the main gate of the monastery with his head hanging low. He walked up to the church, entered through the main door, and climbed up the podium, from where the stairs to the top floor began, where the huge bell hung. Sergio climbed the top and rang the bell thrice, which suddenly caused the entire monastery to go numb with silence. The bell meant that Father Podrick had arrived and the sermon was about to begin.

Father entered the church through the main gate, surrounded by a dozen of his bodyguards as people in their seats folded their hands as a gesture of respect. 6 feet tall, and heavy in his build, Father Podrick was no more than 35 and had a kingly aura surrounding him. Slowly, the entire church was crowded and yet, there was pin-drop silence. The Father slowly walked up to the podium, where a mic and stereo were set up for him. “Brothers, and sisters,” his voice echoed through the church, the monastery, and the town. “As you all know that this is my last gathering in this beautiful place that I call home. I have been raised amidst all of your kind souls and now, the time has come for me to depart. I received a letter from the Vatican and it seems that my services are needed there. So, I want to formally take your leave and blessings before I go.”

Some suppressed cries were heard among the peasants sitting on the wooden chairs that lay in the church. Noone wanted Father Podrick to leave but nobody had the courage to stop him either. “I understand it is a difficult time for you all as it is for me. But I want to dedicate this final mass to all of you. Do any of you have to make any final confession? If yes, then let it be right here in front of everyone.”

The crowd murmured. A sad old woman stood up, inviting all the eyeballs present in the church towards herself. “Father, I seek forgiveness for I have sinned,” cried the old lady who had lost her husband earlier the same year to brain fever. “I struck my neighbor with an iron rod, leaving her to bleed. It was a crime of passion and I regret my actions. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“Our dear lord Jesus Christ was created in the image of us humans and yet, he only taught us to show love and compassion and kindness towards our enemies, especially towards them, for all are the children of God,” said The Father. “You have sinned, by giving in to your beastly urge to strike another human being, and for that, you shall be punished. But our lord Jesus Christ has always said that ‘blessed are the ones who sin and repent’, so ye shall be forgiven if you repent, and it seems like you do repent your crimes. Hence, you shall be forgiven, for our lord, Jesus is the greatest of them all and is the lord of forgiveness. Amen!”

“Amen!” the old lady screamed and laughed. “Hallelujah”, the crowd chanted in unison.

“If there is anyone else, they might come forward and repent like this kind lady just did,” said the Father.

There was no movement.

“Okay then, I believe it's time we shall wrap up this mass…”

“Wait…”, Father Podrick was cut in between by a very familiar voice. “I need to confess, Father”, echoed Sergio’s voice through the church. By then, Sergio had climbed down to the podium and was silently standing on the right, without getting noticed. “Sergio, my brother”, exclaimed a cheerful father Podrick. “In the past 6 years that you have been here, I have never seen you confess. I almost believed you are the purest soul there is,” Father said amusingly.

“I was to confess Father, but not for myself, for I have not sinned. I want to repent for my son’s sin”, the crowd let out a collective gasp. “Yes, I heard. God bless the innocent soul of your younger one”, prayed the Father. “But God works in mysterious ways. All this suffering He put you through means something, my brother. General Dimitri, if he doesn’t confess shall pay for his wrongdoings for your son was a pure soul and had done no wrong.”

“No. That’s not entirely correct. My son stole a loaf of bread from General Dimitri’s kitchen where my wife works as a cook. Some unforeseen circumstances had my wife taking a leave from work today and thus, I sent my son to help in any way he can to make up for my wife’s absence. Devil came over my son and compelled him to steal the bread, for he was hungry and we haven’t had enough to eat in days. The General’s son nabbed him and for his sin, he was shot dead. But murdering a child for such a crime, doesn’t that put General Dimitri at risk for hellfire?” Sergio said in one breath. He was uneasy and seemed delirious.

“Relax, Sergio. One shall pay for their sins and General Dimitri shall too. Let the day of the judgment befall him.”

“And when shall that be?” asked Dimitri in a determined voice.

“Time is but an illusion of the senses, dear Sergio. But be assured, no one gets unpunished for their crimes in the court of God unless he confesses for his sins,” said Father with an equal display of confidence.

“But Father,” Sergio countered, “General Dimitri is an atheist.”

“Everyone is similar in the eyes of God, Sergio. He shall…”

“… No. He shan’t.” exclaimed Sergio.

Father sensed rebellion in Sergio’s tone and he was right in his assumptions as Sergio walked a few feet towards the Father. His bloodied robe was the focus of attention and Father observed it patiently while listening to what Sergio had to say.

“You say all are the same in God’s eyes, but it's me who lost his son, Father. I have dedicated my entire life to the church and I am not taking this for an answer. I need an answer I can believe in, which will help me sleep at night. My son’s body lies in my home, with his open skull that will soon begin to rot. I ask you, as is my right, if we are all the same in God’s eyes, why only I have to suffer,” Sergio said stopping a few steps from Father. He knew he couldn’t approach further without being manhandled by Father’s bodyguards.

“Suffering is the permanent companion of all men, Sergio. You will never escape it, neither shall I. That is one certainty you can believe. The good and the bad exist together, one can’t exist without another. You basked in the pleasure of holding your son in your arms when he was a newborn, today you have to hold his corpse in the same hands. That’s what the human condition is. Time changes and with it, changes the concept of joy and despair. What bothers you, Sergio, are you afraid of suffering?”

“No Father. In fact, I seek my heaven in my suffering but how do I see my beloved wife and my daughter cope with the loss of their son and brother? Faith could move mountains, my lord, but can it stop my wife’s tears? Can my faith fill the gap in my daughter’s despair of losing her only brother? Can my faith ever make me see the light again?”

“Life comes to those that pray, Sergio. Have faith the God’s plan.”

“Fuck your God and fuck your plans!” screamed Sergio. Right after he said it, three of Father’s bodyguards held Sergio and pulled him out of the church. Sergio was silent, for he expected a bad thrashing, but this was better.

Sergio rushed over to his home, which was a 15-minute walk from the church. His wife and daughter were exactly where he left them, sitting by his son’s dead body. “Let’s bury him”, said Sergio. “I will say the prayer”, observed Sophia. “No prayers will be said in this house henceforth,” said Sergio bringing a shovel from inside his storeroom.

“Once my son is buried, I’m going for General Dimitri’s head”, exclaimed Sergio with a twinkle in his eyes.