Good Christians

Good Christian's Church sits on a promontory in Morrison County, Minnesota. It actually sits on the highest part of the town, save Gordon Heights, so every where you go in that community you can see Good Christian's. Designed in the Gothic style, it has thick stone walls, stained glass windows, a bell tower and two entrances. The first is at the front of the church. It has two, large, hand carved teak wood doors from a cathedral in Italy, sitting atop ten steps from the ground level. For all intents and purposes this is the main entrance of the church, and was used as such by most of those in attendance each Sunday. It's placement allowed for the weekly procession of parishioners, which became as important as the sermon itself. Girls in their Sunday dresses, boys with their hair slicked down, choking and tugging at their ties, Mothers and Fathers close behind pushing them toward the front of the nave. And in the front of the room there was a grand altar beneath a large crucifix with the weary and grimacing image of Christ on it.

Upon each new arrival to the church their arose a definite chorus like murmur from the others already seated in the pews. Usually a light commentary on the attire or behavior of the children of the new arrivals. Also any divergence from what was considered normal and respectable in the past week's affairs was quickly in circulation. Even as trifling an incident as failure to attend a PTA meeting was fair game from tongue clicks and a shake of the head. Jesus grimaced on.

Now as partially explained earlier this church had two entrances. A fact that would have been completely negligible if it were not for the curious case of Joe Pewter and Mary Cole, who always opted to use the side door as it was more discreet an entrance and they were frequently late.There were no stairs leading to the side door of the church. It was a good hike up the hill before you reached the comparably modest portal which consisted only of a standard sized Oak door and Iron handle. It opened immediately to the back row of pews which was never occupied and closed with a light thud which was never over looked. Though this was a much less conspicuous arrival than coming in through the large, creaking main doors, Joe and Mary could not sneak past the sideways glances and raised eyebrows of their fellow faithful.

Mary was the embodiment of modesty. Small in stature; she had a full face, wavy brown hair which she only ever combed and the gait of someone walking on already cracked egg shells. Her hands were always clasped in front of her which made her shoulders look rounded and sagging. She wore a faded green floral dress and a tattered brown shawl.

Joe was a large man, who could not help but walk with his shoulders spread and his chest stuck out. He had dark orangish hair and a face that looked smudged with dirt no matter what. He wore the same flannel button up shirt, tucked in to the only pair of pants he owned and work boots with their tread worn flat and holes on the sides. Muscular and always tensed Joe looked like a super hero or a legend but also had the demeanor of a field mouse or less.

But disapproving stares did not land on them only for their ragged clothing or their apparent disregard for when church actually started. Joe and Mary had long been the pariah of this particular community because they were young and in love and living together and unmarried. Their mere presence caused smirks and stirrings among long wed wives who communicated, without words to one another, harsh judgements of the two. Husbands made quick glances at them and then at their wives assuring them they shared their abhorrence.

The priest slowly glided to the altar and everyone rose. The organ struck up and everybody sang. Everyone but the two late arrivals in the back row, who had fallen to their knees the moment the priest walked in and began to pray, as was their usual practice. And even though their actions were the same week after week the towns people could not help but turn and look at them as they knelt, heads bowed and hands clasped. They would be in that position until around 45 minutes into mass when, regardless of where the Priest was in his sermon a light rustling could be heard in the back of the room and then the soft thud of the side door closing. Those still attendance knew that the couple had left but would most assuredly be back in a weeks time.

At the end of service bells would toll and Good Christians would gather on the hill over looking Morrison and without fail discuss the same thing each time. Not the service the had just heard or good scripture that they had read, but the vexing twosome who always came late paid no attention to the Priest and walked out early. While the two had managed to never speak to another member of the church, or even make eye contact, it was common practice to spin tales about them after service. She was a run away from Aitkin and he was her pious kidnapper. She was an adulterer from Anoka driven away by the shame and alienation. She was trying to convert him as he was a Jew from New York. A litany of scenarios were presented and each as baseless and arbitrary as the last, but as good as gospel to them. Mothers covered the ears of little ones while they went in the lecherous details of their premarital S-E-X. Tweens giggled having finally realized the implications of a man and woman living together. Men stood behind silently and shook their heads. Parents were outraged but mostly frightened. Soon the discussion shifted towards the impression this was making on the children, as is the safety net argument for anyone opposing change. Mothers and Fathers alike professed that they didn't want their sons or daughters exposed to a lifestyle like that. With no parents wanting to be out worried by the others the discussion turned to frenzy and ultimately the conclusion was that those two must be banished from the church. The logistical question became how, and it was, in the end, a young Good Christian boy who came up with the means but which to do just that. The boy had the simple solution of locking the side door they always came in through. Not likely to want to disrupt the sermon the hope was that they would not enter at all.

In the early morning of the following Sunday a thick silk rope was woven between the handle of the side door and the leg of a statue of the Virgin. All through the first few minutes of mass all of the parishioners put the Father's words secondary in their minds to what was about to happen in the back of the room. The anticipation had peaked and just when the excitement felt like it was becoming audible there were three soft bumps heard in the back of the room. There was a collective and responsive giggle to these bumps throughout the church which made the Priest look up and wonder. One final more assertive bang was heard which made the Priest furrow his brow and glance to the back of the room but do nothing. After that final there was no more distractions for that day's mass. No more Joe and Mary at all. They didn't even try to go back in after that. No one in the church ever saw them again. Their whereabouts were guessed at for weeks to come, but no one really knew, and over time no one remembered the two.

Father ended sermon early the day Joe and Mary were locked out. Early enough to allow the men to get out on there boats for the second day of the fishing opener. Jesus Grimaced on and Good Christians said "Amen."