Читать книгу Playing for the Devil's Fire - Phillippe Diederich - Страница 15

9.

On Sunday morning Abuela, Gaby and I went to church. At one time, maybe like two hundred years ago, the church must have been a grand old place. It had been built with huge volcanic rock and the wall behind the altar was like a pirate’s treasure, all gold and jewels. But the pews were scratched up and the ceiling and walls were stained from leaks and mildew.

The church was crowded. All the places in the front were taken so we had to sit near the middle, which was great. With my parents, we always sat in the front. I hated that. Father Gregorio had a way of making eye contact with me whenever he talked about good and evil. I knew he was addressing everyone, but it always felt as though he were talking only to me. And when he paused to prepare the communion vessel, he stared at me as if the communion—and sometimes the entire ceremony—was being performed just to save my soul from the terrible sins I had supposedly committed. But the truth was that I wasn’t much of a sinner. I mean, I did curse but never as much as the other kids, especially Mosca. He had a real mouth. I just told a few innocent lies. I guess my worst sins had to do with Ximena.

There were like twenty or thirty newcomers sitting up front. Well-dressed families—old people, grandparents, couples, kids. They were just regular people, but they looked different. Some of the men kept their sunglasses on. The women had their hair done real fancy. They wore a lot of gold. You could almost smell their money over the incense. I didn’t see Joaquín or his friends from Saturday night.

Father Gregorio focused his mass on how we all need to strive for what he said is the inner person, which is Christ, or something like that. He spoke unusually slow and quoted Saint Paul over and over. But the main point was that carnal life is a passing stage of the inner life. Or something. It was a sad mass. His voice was deeper than usual. At one point he reminded us of Enrique Quintanilla and Rocío Morales. He said death was the ultimate sacrifice, and their souls were now with Him. Then he asked us to pray for them and their families. He said we were a community of believers, that we were all the children of God, and had to trust the Lord’s plan and not question his motives for the things that happen to us.