Raubenheimer was shocked by the incident at the Intersection. He needed calmness and guidance but, who could possibly help him go against super-humans? Who could measure against supernatural beings with extreme stupidity?
He needed someone of great power, immense humanity and the deepest love. He needed God!
He marched down to the Cathedral, furious pace, thinking of all the things he needed help with. He needed the vessel of God on earth, the spiritual father and priest, to guide his way…
The front doors were locked! How could the church doors EVER be locked?
He knocked on the wooden door. No answer. He knocked again. He hit the door with his fist. He kicked and punched and then, the sound of a number of locks turning greeted the ear before the door finally opened. A short gray-white bearded, black clerical bearing priest came out of the dark.
-Yes my child?”
Raubenheimer thought. Why was the damn door closed?
-Are you Father Uselessius?
-That would be me child.
The priest answered smilingly. Raubenheimer examined the priest. His face looked dozy. The clerical was in wrinkles.
-Why was the God damn door closed?
-It most certainly wasn’t!
-It God damn sure was!
-Watch your language boy! God did not damn this door!
Raubenheimer felt a chill going up his spine. Not Again! Could it really be that stupidity had hit the priest as well?
-This here door was locked!
-Yes my child. No need to get excited. The door was locked.
-Jesus, why did you say that it wasn’t then?
-Oh my child, you must have me confused. I’m just a priest, I’m not Jesus.
The priest smiled wholeheartedly. He felt compassion for the lost flock. Raubenheimer felt the sides of his skull pressing against the inner matter of his brain.
-Okay father. Why did you say that the door was not locked?
-I never said such thing. I merely said the door was not God damned. God does not curse doors my child.
Raubenheimer looked up towards the sky. He expected to see a face laughing hard as he was certain that God was making fun of him all day long. He didn’t see anyone. If God was laughing, he did so in private.
-Okay father, let’s forget about the entire thing and start over. I need guidance.
-Oh my dear child you have me confused yet again. Why don’t you ask dear Babis for directions to wherever you wish to go?
-Babis, the kiosk owner.
-What? How will Babis the kiosk owner help me?
-Oh my dear, dear child. Never underestimate the knowledge of the kiosk owner!
Raubenheimer took a look across the street and at the kiosk. Babis, the kiosk owner, seemed like a mid forties (age-wise), mid nineties (weight-wise), 1.60 (height-wise) hobbit caressing packs of snickers and other chocolates, drooling all over and muttering “my precious”.
He turned to face the priest again but the door was already closed. He knocked again. The locks turned and the priest opened once more.
-What do you mean “yes child”?
-You did knock on the church door child, didn’t you?
-Of course I knocked on the damn door! Why in God’s name did you close it in the first place?
-Why would I close the door in God’s name child?
-Well how should I know? You’re the one who did close the door!
– If I hadn’t closed the door, how would you be able to knock on it and why would you?
Raubenheimer was getting real sick about this whole thing. His patience reserves were running low.
-Look father, I need to talk to you. I actually need to talk to God and I believe that’s where you come in?
The priest was furious!
-That’s preposterous! How dare you insult me of eavesdropping!
Raubenheimer took half a step back.
-When did that happen?
-It happened just now. I mean before now. Then!
-It happened when you said I’m coming in when you’re talking with God! I have never ever and will never do such a thing!
-I only meant it’s your job to help me talk with God!
-Oh my child. I have no job. I merely offer a service here.
“Semantics” thought Raubenheimer to himself, “keep semantics in mind”.
-Okay father will you please help me communicate with God?
-I’m afraid I can’t do that for you, child. Not today.
Raubenheimer was certain he had not heard that line. He was sure he somehow heard something that the priest had not said.
-Excuse me, father?
-Oh you’re excused, but you can’t talk to God today.
-What in God’s name are you talking about old man?
-You see my child. The means to reach God are out of order.
-I’m saying child, there’s no way to reach God today.
-You make it sound like the damn phone has been unplugged! What do you mean “the means to reach God are out of order”?
-I’m only saying that communication is not possible when the means over which this communication is usually performed is not feasible.
-Hold your horses right there father …
-It’s a figure of speech you old twat! A FIGURE OF SPEECH!
-Oh I see. And is it good at it?
-Speech, most certainly!
-Speech? Is “speech” good at what?
-Well, at figures. Are we not talking mathematics?
Raubenheimer felt like a pile of cloth was blocking his windpipe.
-Look father. I just witnessed the murder of half of this city’s population and…
-Again? Okay you’re excused. But you can’t murder half a city. That’s genocide!
-I don’t care what it is! I don’t care what it’s called! I only want God to help me find a way to deal with it!
-Oh now I see. Okay then come back on Thursday the 18th.
The door closed. Raubenheimer’s eyes popped to the outer rim of their sockets. He knocked on the door once more. The same priest opened the door.
-Was there something else you needed child?
-Why are you closing this door?
-There’s valuable possessions of the church in here, you don’t suppose we leave the door wide open do you?
-But… We – Were – TALKING!!!
-I’m sorry I thought we had concluded our conversation. Was there something else you needed?
-You will open this door and you will listen to me and you will help me reach God and reach a solution to this problem that this city here is facing. Do you get that old man?
-As much as I would have loved to, I can’t my child. The church is on strike!
-The what is on what?!?!?!
There were sparks coming out of Raubenheimer’s eyes.
-How can the church be on strike?
-Well, I mean that the church is not operating till our specific needs are covered by the country.
-Yeah I know what “on strike” means! I’m only asking WHY would the church be on strike! What are your demands?
-Oh we have more than a handful my child! First off they want the church to pay taxes. That is absolutely ridiculous! The church does not own anything. Second, we want some very fillet parcels to be relinquished to the church. Third, we want the church to be able to enter politics. Oh, there’s so many my child. So many requirements to be covered before the church will operate again.
-The church is not paying taxes?
-Of course not child! Why would the church pay taxes? We own nothing!
-But half the country is in the church’s possession!
-The church has never purchased land or structures by the country.
-Purchased or not, the church OWNS land!
-How dare you, child? The church merely ADMINISTERS the land and the buildings and the vehicles ON HEHALF of our creator God.
-So then, God is the owner?
-Does God pay taxes?
The priest looked at him with fierce eyes and shut the door into his face. Raubenheimer chuckled. He may had taken this a bit too far. He knocked again. The priest opened the door.
-I’m sorry father, I might have gone a bit too far. I still need to talk to God.
-As I already said my child… God is on strike.
-What who now?
-God does not want to communicate with you!
-Why? And how would you know?
-Because you want him to pay taxes. And you probably want the church to pay taxes too. And I know because I am the Voice and the Ear of God!
-This can’t be right! God loves us all and ALWAYS listens to his Creations.
-HAHAHA! That’s so funny. God only listens to whatever I tell him!
-What do you think I am doing here child? I am the Eyes of God on earth. I am the vessel through which he communicates with you and you communicate with him. And this vessel is on strike!
-What are you talking about? This makes absolutely NO sense!
-Look child. Every means has operational costs. You spare your coins and buy candles. These go towards our operational costs. Now, you light that candle, so that God can see in the darkness!
-What darkness? There’s like 4 chandeliers in this freaking church! There’s more than 50 light bulbs burning day and night! And still whenever there’s a christening or wedding, we pay operational costs again!
-Lights are for the people. Candles are for God. You need to pay to be served…
Raubenheimer felt uneasy. He felt like he was standing in line to be served by a public servant at the city hall.
-You make this sound like we’re customers or clients or something!
-Of course you’re customers child. We have the product and you need to use it. You’ll have to pay.
-God most certainly!
-Since when is God a product!?!?
-Oh I’m not good with historical references I’m sorry. I only know how things are now.
-You’re out of your mind you old fuck! God is not a product!
-God is a product and we are the sole providers. A monopoly if you’d like.
-THIS IS BLASPHEMY!
Raubenheimer screamed at the top of his lungs.
The priest looked at him in the eye…
-Blasphemy? THIS – IS – RELIGION!
The door closed. Raubenheimer did not knock another time.