Read The Tavernier Stones Online

Authors: Stephen Parrish

The Tavernier Stones (38 page)

BOOK: The Tavernier Stones
7.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
He looked away. The man next to her was young and clean cut, like a yuppie. He stared vacantly at the altar as though his thoughts were elsewhere.
The woman at the podium finished reading from Isaiah. The priest then led a responsorial psalm. John knew another reading and another psalm would follow. He looked to his right at the stained glass windows on the south wall.
 
Frieda Blumenfeld looked at the windows too, especially the easternmost one, closest to the altar. The skewed cross stood out bluntly in contrast with the escheresque weave of pastel bricks. Whatever was supposed to happen at noon on the summer solstice was going to happen in the next forty minutes: the sun was already shining brightly through myriad pieces of colored glass, warming up to reveal the solution to a mystery that had befuddled historians for three centuries.
She noticed that the young man with whom she had shared a glance was also scrutinizing the windows. She wondered how many others in the church had their eyes open for clues, and how many of those had guessed the most likely sources.
After the second responsorial psalm, the congregation rose to its feet for a reading of the Gospel. Blumenfeld rose as well. This isn’t so hard, she thought; you just do what everyone else is doing.
The priest sang: “
Hal-le-lu-ja, hal-le-lu-ja, hal-le-lu-ja.
”
“Hal-le-lu-ja,” Blumenfeld muttered to herself.
He walked over to the podium and opened his Bible to a page marked with a ribbon. “
Aus dem heiligen Evengelium nach Matthäus …
”
In synchronization with everyone else, Blumenfeld traced a small cross with her right thumb on her forehead, lips, and heart. She remembered enough of her school catechism to follow the Gospel according to Saint Matthew. That is, if she had been paying attention. The church was full to bursting. All these people can’t be here for love of Jesus, she thought. Maybe a hundred on a typical Sunday morning. That meant some two hundred were present for reasons other than holy mass.
The priest bent over the Bible and kissed it. Blumenfeld heard him mumble, “
Herr, durch dein Evangelium nimm hinweg unsere Sünden.
” May the words of the Gospel wipe away our sins. Indeed, she thought, and please throw in the ones we intend to commit.
 
Sarah, John noticed, was listening intently to the mass, even though she couldn’t have understood a word of it. At this point, the priest was delivering the homily, explaining the Gospel he had just read and tying it into the previous readings, the philosophy of the church, and even current events. He made a public service announcement about a missing twelve-year-old girl named Erika and commented on the surprising turnout this bright, sunny Sunday.
John also noticed that David kept glancing at Sarah, then at John, probably making sure they weren’t stealing furtive glances or making surreptitious physical contact.
For his part, John was little concerned at the moment about Sarah’s proximity. He stood at the end of the pew, as close as anyone to the stained glass windows on the south wall, and squinted as the sun’s rays streamed through the fragile glass. He bowed with the rest of the congregation while reciting the part of the Creed that described Jesus becoming man: “
… hat Fleisch angenommen und ist Mensch geworden …
”
As he straightened up again, the rays hit him with such force that he had to turn his head aside. The sun had been rising steadily during the mass; it projected images in the stained glass windows onto the opposite wall of the nave, where they made a kaleidoscope of blurred patterns on the stone surfaces and wooden balustrade.
 
Blumenfeld checked her watch; it would be noon in another half-hour. She followed the glances of the man at the opposite end of her pew and noticed the patterns forming on the north wall. Meanwhile, the congregation was offering up general intercessions.
“…
um Rettung von Krankheit
…”
“
Christus, erhöre uns.
”
As the sun continued to rise, the patterns advanced toward the altar and descended toward the floor. At first Blumenfeld found the abstract shapes and swimming colors pleasing; the pastel bricks were just becoming recognizable, as though cast by a weak slide projector. Then the skewed cross began to take shape on the balustrade, and her expression turned to stone.
“…
von Hunger und Krieg …
”
“
Christus, erhöre uns.
”
 
John watched the cross advance and descend; it had dropped below the wooden balustrade and was creeping onto the stone surface above the row of sarcophagi lined up along the north wall. He looked pointedly at David, who almost imperceptively nodded his acknowledgement.
The cross seemed to be going somewhere. It seemed to have a destination.
John did some quick figuring. Although the church faced south, the sun rising from the east was shining into the windows. That was because the church stood at nearly fifty degrees north latitude. Which meant that even at summer solstice, when the sun reached its highest point in the sky all year, sunlight would stream into the windows from about twenty-six degrees south of vertical. It was enough angle to cast images onto the lower part of the far wall of a narrow church flattened against a rock face. The sun moved from east to west as well as climbed higher, which explained why the images on the wall glided toward the altar while slipping gradually toward the floor.
The sun was already near the top of the window and in a short while would rise above the arched pane. On the opposite wall, the skewed cross was coming into focus.
 
Blumenfeld wished the people around her would shrink, or fall down and die, or do something to get out of the way, so she would be in a better position to extrapolate the cross’s path. But now everyone was supposed to shake hands with his neighbors in the “sign of peace” part of the mass. She shook Gebhardt’s hand. She looked down the pew and caught the eye of the young man with a close-cropped beard. She nodded to him in a small but formal greeting. He only stared back.
She turned and shook the hand of the barrel-shaped man sitting behind her. As he leaned forward to reach her, his jacket opened slightly, revealing the handle of a police revolver sticking out from his belt.
So, she thought, the danger is every bit as great as the stakes.
The priest broke up a piece of host and dropped it into a chalice containing wine. “
Seht das Lamm Gottes, das hinwegnimmt die Sünde der Welt.
”
The congregation responded, “
Herr, ich bin nicht würdig …
”
 
Indeed, John thought, I am not worthy. All he wanted to do now was determine where the cross was going. He noticed that David had planted his right foot on the kneeling beam as though he were getting ready to stand on top of it to improve his view. The organ’s throaty voice once again filled the small church. Members of the congregation began leaving their pews to approach the altar and share in the body of Christ. As John and David stepped into the aisle to join them, Sarah shook her head at the two and remained standing in her place.
O heil-ge See-len-spei-se auf die-ser Pil-ger-rei-se,
o Man-na, Him-mels-brot!
 
John got in the short line forming in the right aisle, with David right behind him. To his left, in the line moving steadily up the center aisle, were the witch and the yuppie.
Wollst un-sern Hun-ger stil-len, mit Gna-den uns er-fül-len,
uns ret-ten vor dem ew-gen Tod.
BOOK: The Tavernier Stones
7.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Eighteen (18) by J.A. Huss
Barefoot by Elin Hilderbrand
Night Game by Alison Gordon
The Child Whisperer by Carol Tuttle
Japantown by Barry Lancet
Her Dad's Friend by Penny Wylder
Sarah's Sin by Tami Hoag
La soledad del mánager by Manuel Vázquez Montalbán
Damage Control by Elisa Adams