Chapter 3
EWEN
The drive back to Boston has been peaceful. I’ve done this drive multiple times over the years, but this time, it’s to stay. To finally lead my own parish. My dream’s becoming a reality.
I was shocked when I was given the opportunity to be the priest of Our Lady of Sorrows in the heart of Boston. I used to visit when I was in college. Its old charm drew me in originally. The building is gothic, with a haunted style architecture and beautifully vivid stained glass.
I would spend hours there. It was one of my favorite places to study for my courses, while learning more about being a priest from Father Gallagher.
He was old then, and I’m surprised he didn’t retire years ago.
When I’d heard he passed, I was sad, but he’s with God now, and being blessed with the opportunity to take over for such a devout man fills me with pride.
Learning that the church isn’t thriving like before causes me to stress.
It’s my job to keep the parish prevailing.
While Father Gallagher was aging, he started to neglect his duties of maintaining the church.
I’m going to have my hands full getting Our Lady of Sorrows back to the beautiful place I loved.
I also have plans to get the soup kitchen open regularly—it’s only open a couple days a week and I wish to have it going daily—rehab the landscaping and set up activities to bring in more youth.
None of that includes my normal job of being a priest such as leading Sunday Mass, bookkeeping, and being there for the community.
A community that’s all but forgotten about this place of worship. There are still some very devout followers who grew up in the church, but they’re getting older, and the younger generations don’t believe in religion.
I want to have a church filled with faith. The pews filled with followers.
Both are tasks I’m focused on.
Meow!
The squeak of a noise comes from my passenger seat where my cat Beocca—my beloved companion named after my favorite priest from the show The Last Kingdom—sits. He was this tiny little stray I found last year, then nursed back to health. He’s my buddy, and I couldn’t give him up after I saved him.
Turning my gaze from the road for just a second to scan his carrier, I say, “I know bud. We’re less than fifteen minutes away. I’ll let you out the moment we get inside.” I stick a finger through one of the holes for him to rub up against, giving him some comfort. He mellows out instantly.
We’re meeting with Reverend Mother Helen, the abbess of the local convent.
Like I said, we’re a small church with only a rectory for the priest. Our nuns come every day to help with the duties.
They’ll be vital to leading the soup kitchen and easing me into community.
She’ll be giving me the official tour of what will be my new home.
As I pull into the tiny lot behind the church, I’m instantly greeted by Mother Helen. She’s an older woman who reminds me of Angela Lansbury from that old show Murder, She Wrote, and I briefly wonder if she’s just as stern.
“Father Grayson it’s such a pleasure to finally meet you in person.
” She gives my hand a firm shake the second I’m out of the car.
“We’ve all been so excited for your arrival.
” She shakes my hand a bit too firmly, eyes looking for something.
Like she’s wondering if I’m fit for this job.
I know I am. Being a priest has been my goal since I was a teenager.
“It’s such a joy to be here and to meet you as well,” I say as I round my Jeep to grab Beocca’s carrier. I promised he’d be out as soon as we arrived, and I am a man of my word. “Let’s head inside and you can show me where everything is.”
The nun eyes the carrier, but I’m not going to explain my companion. He’s mine and there is no rule against me having a pet. He’s usually a scaredy cat—pun intended—when it comes to meeting new people. We’ve only lived in one place before this move, and I hope the rectory is suitable for him.
Mother Helen leads us in through a back door that leads to a slim staircase going up. “This is the personal entrance for the apartment so you won’t have to go through the main church doors,” she says as she stands to the side, allowing me entry.
Before I can say anything else, she’s heading up a flight of stairs to the door.
Guess we’re done discussing that. I follow after her again.
She stops outside the door at the top. “This is your personal space. It has been cleaned, and all of Father Gallagher’s personal things have been removed.
” She opens the door but doesn’t go in. I walk into the little apartment that’s on the backside of the church.
It’s nothing fancy. A small living room and kitchen greet me.
I glance around and see a narrow hall with a door on either side.
This is perfect. There’re a lot of windows in the small space as well. Beocca will love the natural sunlight.
I walk back into the bedroom and set down his carrier on the bed, I open the door so he can venture out. I’d bet money he won’t until he’s alone.
Heading back out into the living space I see that Mother Helen is waiting for me. Closing the door, I motion with my hand for her to continue the tour. She leads me to another door that opens to another set of stairs. This set of stairs leads directly into the office connected to the rectory.
It’s a small office connected to the main part of the church.
Aged pictures of Bible stories and a fine layer of dust are the first thing I notice.
Random stacks of paper are chaotically arranged on every surface.
It clearly hasn’t been tended to in a while.
I can guess from its state that Father Gallagher didn’t prioritize filing systems. “We didn’t move anything after Father Gallagher passed.
Figured you’d want to do it yourself. If not, a couple of the nuns can help. ”
She’s right, I’d rather do it myself so I can get everything put away where I can find it. “Thank you for the offer, but I’ll do it. It’ll give me a chance to see how everything was handled.”
Once I’m done looking around a bit, she opens the main doors that lead into the church.
I follow her in, absorbing all she has to share.
The sacred art pieces that are older than even her, the history this place holds is surreal.
I can’t wait until I’m alone and can take the time to get to know my parish.
Our tour is over quickly, Mother Helen showing me everything of importance. Before she leaves she hands me a set of keys and informs me that she’ll be back early with a few other nuns, so they can start the food prep for the soup kitchen the parish runs twice a week.
“Have a great evening Father Grayson. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” The nun gives me a small smile, giving me hope we’ll have a great relationship.
I follow her out to the personal lot. She walks over to the only other car and climbs in.
She gives a wave and the small smile is back as she drives away.
I watch her go before I return to my Jeep to grab my stuff.
It’ll only take a few trips to get everything in.
I don’t own much—just a couple boxes of books, a box with vinyl records and a record player, Beocca’s stuff, and a large suitcase with my clothes.
After I have it all upstairs, I sit on the couch and Beocca jumps into my lap. “I think we’re going to be here a long time, my friend.”