"Our Father Who Art in Heaven..."
by Margaret Sagri
"Jimmy, hurry up! Stop messing about with your cereal"
Jimmy stared at his bowl, reluctantly bringing the spoon to his mouth. His stomach struggled to digest the soggy cornflakes.
Two minutes later, his mom grabbed the half-finished bowl.
"Shoes on. We're off."
"What's the matter with you? Don't you realise how lucky you are? I thought you loved camping!"
Jimmy's non-blinking eyes stared at the unseen landscape as the car sped forward.
"Thank God Fr. Grant organises these trips for you boys. How on earth could I afford to send you on vacation otherwise? You should be so grateful to him."
"Grab your bag. Come on, the bus won't wait for you!"
Jimmy flinched as he felt the warm hand touch his shoulder. He visualised Fr. Grant's sly grin without looking up. With eyes glued to his own shabby shoes he pulled his battered bag behind him, oblivious to the laughter and shouts of the other boys.
Soft snores rang in his ears as Jimmy felt his alert body being carried silently from the crowded tent. His trembling fingers closed instinctively over his pajama pocket.
God's blood, he called it, as he slowly filled two glasses. Shed for us sinners, he said.
The rat poison mingled beautifully with the wine as the priest turned his back to remove his white collar.
Stumbling in the dark in a rush to return to the safety of the boy's tent, Jimmy knew the truth would - at last - be revealed.