Look

Andy grabs the car keys off the hook in the kitchen and says, “I’m taking Gemma-Rose to work.”

“Can I come with you?” I ask. “I need to get out of the house.”

“Is that a good enough reason for taking a trip into town?” my husband teases.

“I’ve got some essential shopping to do.”

“You have?”

“Oh yes, I need to buy coffee. We can get it at Gemma-Rose’s cafe. Then we can stop on the way home, perhaps at the lake, to drink it.”

An hour later, we’re sitting side by side on a bench in the park. I’m holding one of the coffee cups. The other one is on the ground. Andy is bent over his phone. His thumbs bounce up and down. Then they come to a halt, and Andy says, “Listen to this:

MasterChef contestant Chris copped the wrath of guest judge Gordon Ramsey on Tuesday night’s episode of the Channel 10 cooking show in a grisly exchange over pork belly.”

“A grisly exchange?”

Andy reads the article to the end before reaching for his coffee. He takes a sip. We sit in silence for a moment.

Then I say, “What are you doing? Why are you looking at your phone?”

“I’m searching for another story that will amuse you.”

“I don’t need anything to amuse me,” I say. “Let’s just look.”

The warm sunshine descends upon us from a cloudless sky as we look around. The lush green grass rolls down the hill before us.

“What a gorgeous day,” I say.

“Do you remember how this park used to be a lawn bowling club?”

“Do you remember how some people wanted to build a McDonald’s here?”

“Look at the mountains,” I say. “Look at all the trees. You wouldn’t think we’re in the middle of a town. Don’t we live in a beautiful place?”

“Look at us.”

My love and I have escaped. We’ve fled the world. We’re alone but together in the park.

“Look at the church,” I say as we drain the last drops of coffee from our cups. “Can we visit it before we go home?”

We leave the park and cross the road. As we walk up to the church door, we see a sign: Masses are available on our parish’s Youtube channel. Subscribe!

We make our way alongside the church to the tabernacle end. In my imagination, I look. I see a gold door above the altar. Upon the wall, a red candle is flickering in its holder.

I take out my phone.

“What are you doing?” asks Andy.

“I’m looking for a special prayer. Do you want to pray with me?”

Then we turn and face the church. Our prayers flow towards the tabernacle. The words rise and fall.

And Jesus looks straight through the wall.

He looks at me.

Photo by Casey Horner on Unsplash