I’ve
had this idea as part of the finale to Tears for a Butcher for a few
years, it may not make it into the book if ever I get around to
finishing it. A book is a year of your life. Whereas a story is an
hour, a big difference. Now read on.
DECEMBER
11TH, 2014 13:02
By
Michael Casey
Mrs
Murphy watched in horror, just yards in front of her Fr. Dan was
going to be slain, the Columbians had him surrounded. Their guns were
drawn and there was no Hope, he’d be as dead as a doornail in
seconds. He was her favourite priest no he’d be gone to meet his
maker. She could see his face, his eyes were fixed on hers, Pray for
me he begged.
Fr.
Dan was not afraid of the Columbians, but he was afraid of his Final
Judgement, he has killed two men in anger when he was younger. He had
confessed this to Mrs Murphy when telling her that her soul was
spotless as driven snow compared to his.
Some
thugs had teased him and tortured him, trying to make him say bad
things about Mary, the Virgin Mary. They had carved curses on his
back with knives, but he would never say bad things about Mary. When
his chance came he broke free and used all his Martial Arts skills to
survive. Only he killed 2 of them and crippled 2 more with the other
2 running for their lives.
Jesuits
know how to put the Fear of God into bad people, but Fr. Dan feared
God too, he had committed a mortal sin, thou shalt not kill, and he
had killed twice. Now he was afraid, afraid for his soul, at this
moment of his death he was afraid. His eyes were beseeching, Mrs
Murphy would witness his death and his soul would burn in Hell’s
fire for all eternity.
Mrs
Murphy wanted to charge the Columbians down and run at them, but they
had their guns ready, the situation was hopeless. Mrs Murphy did have
Faith though, the Faith of a Child, as the bullets flew her heart
broke, her womb exploded in love and fear, she lost her mind, but she
kept her Faith.
I’ll
go to the Gates of Hells and I’ll jump in the way, like jumping
under a bus, I’ll catch Fr. Dan’s soul and stop it going into
Hell. I’ll wrap my Rosary around the Gates of Hell, keeping them
closed. God is good, God is good, it cannot be the end for Fr. Dan
he’s such a lovely priest.
In
Hell it was so dark and cold, the deepest of deep space, she couldn’t
really see further than her hands holding her Rosary. If only she had
her friends with her they would weld the gates of hell closed, nobody
would burn in hell ever. She knew how to pray, she knew how to pray.
She
felt heavy cold as ice breath on her neck, she could hear mocking
laughter, but she could not see anybody. She tried to say her Rosary
only her lips stuck together it was so cold, she tried to move her
fingers though the beads, her mind was numb, it was like being turned
into an ice cube. There is no love in hell, no love at all.
Mrs
Murphy stumbled to her knees, the laughter, the icy laugher
increased, the cold, the numbing cold went down her neck and to her
very core. She had to force herself to remember why she was there.
She was there to save a soul, she started with the Our Father. She
continued with the 1st Hail Mary. Fr. Dan was a good priest, he had
refused to say bad things about Mary, they had tortured him, they had
tortured him.
Jesus,
Jesus forgive him, Mrs Murphy wanted to scream but it was so cold, so
very cold. If only she had somebody saying the Rosary with her. The
Gates of Hell cannot withstand the Power of The Rosary, he mother and
her grandmother had told her. Mrs Murphy was using her best beads,
the ones that had been repaired when she was praying for Big Sid
when he was shot. But now she was praying for a soul, not just a
life.
Mrs
Murphy managed to move her lips, it was just so cold, so very cold in
the dark space of hell. Hope sprung from her lips, Jesus, Mary and
Joseph she managed to scream, a scream that would be lost in the dark
cold depths of space that was Hell.
Mrs
Murphy’s head was spinning, her womb had exploded, she had lost her
mind, she was dizzy, she wanted to vomit. But she had to pray on, she
reached the 2ndHail Mary on her Rosary. Her mind was playing tricks
on her, she could hear her grandmother praying, she could hear her
old dear friend Mrs Casey praying, she could hear Mrs Noonan praying.
On
she prayed, it was just so dark and cold in the deep space of Hell.
But then in the very distance she saw a light, a tiny tiny flicker,
like the lights in the window of houses in Cromane at Christmas, like
the lights in Dingle over the bay. Help was on its way, help was on
its way.
Warmth
seeped into Mrs Murphy’s body, the Darkness flickered and with an
explosion of Love the cold and dark of Hell disappeared. Saint
Michael the Archangel smiled and caught Mrs Murphy as she fainted. I
thought it was all over she said, Michael laughed, it’s never over,
it’s never over. Mary, Mum heard the Rosary so she sent me to
investigate. Every Rosary everywhere is felt by her, by her womb. He
hasn’t got a chance against the Rosary, never has, never will. And
is he wants the argue he’ll have to talk to my sword said Michael
as he brandished his sword.
But,
Fr. Dan is dead and his soul must be heading to Hell, Mrs Murphy
interrupted. Saint Michael the Archangel smiled and cried at the same
time. God is good, and as you know his mercy is infinite. Come now I
have to put you back together. But Fr. Dan’s soul is in peril, he
must be shot and dead in the gutter by now insisted Mrs Murphy not
understanding.
Time
is just a joke as far as God is concerned, explained Saint Michael as
he gathered up Mrs Murphy. He had to get her back to Earth and save
Fr. Dan’s life in moments. Brandishing his sword Saint Michael flew
through deep space on his way to Birmingham.
The
observatories noticed a bright light from the deepest deepest part of
space, it was moving fast, too fast. Many times faster than the speed
of life. It was heading for Earth, if it hit earth it would be the
end, the end of Civilisation and everything. It was impossible, where
had it come from?
Michael
did an orbit of the moon and had a look at the space station, one
lonely astronaut had lost his love of life, Michael could feel the
lack of love. So Michael waved at the astronauts before heading for
Birmingham. Birmingham the centre of the universe, well for this one
night.
Saint
Michael gently lay Mrs Murphy down, her body and soul and heart
united again. Saint Michael strolled towards Fr. Dan the Columbians
had pulled the triggers, the bullets were flying, the bullets were
flying. Saint Michael winked at an unbelieving Fr. Dan, Michael
wrapped Fr. Dan in his wings and started singing, Ave Ave Maria, it
was all angels’ favourite song.
God
is good Dan, said the Archangel, and Mary said she was so proud of
you too, she’s never stopped praying for you. You have many decades
of work to do, just don’t be too hard on yourself. And as for the
Columbians, they have no idea what’s going to happen next.
&&&&&&&&
ok
folks, this is part of the finale to Tears for a Butcher which I
haven’t even finished writing. I may never get around to it either.
This would be chapter 12
I’ve
written 1.5 chapters so far and have ideas for the book, really I
want to dictate it, IF I had the software OR had access to a legal
secretary who would be fast enough to type it for
FOOTNOTE this could have been the last thing I ever wrote as a couple of weeks later I went into hospital and had an unplanned quadruple heart bypass. My girls wanted a pet, I said they could have a dog if I died or a cat if I had a heart attack. BUT I WAS VERY LUCKY.so now 5 years plus later, do I get a syndicated column in USA?
Or just nappy rash?
Stay Healthy everybody and keep away from Covid19
Michael CASEY
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