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The hour of 8:21 was slowly approaching. This meant that by now, Father Fell would be in the first half of the sermon. For an older lady sitting, of course, in the first row, this also meant the first half of Observation Time.
Mrs. Prudence Jenkins made sure to conduct the Observation Time regularly. It did not mean she wasn’t listening to the priest - of course she was. She would never commit blasphemy. Father Fell was talking about… ah, yes - temptation!
Off the top of her head, Mrs. Jenkins could easily think of a couple of parishioners for whom this subject should matter. For instance, Mr. Pritchard, sitting, as usual, in the third pew with his wife. Well-dressed and broad, with dark brown eyes fixed on Miss Greenfield - decidedly not his wife.
Mrs. Jenkins shuddered immediately. Just last week after mass she witnessed A Scene. Emma Greenfield, brushing off a speck of dust from Mr. Pritchard’s suit. Oh, the sheer audacity of such a thing! Prudence would never let this stand if she was the poor wife. Hannah Pritchard was absent that day, supposedly sick with a stomach bug. To think that she was suffering so greatly while her husband was right in front of the church, with a red-lipsticked harlot of a woman, touching his clothes!
The man, however, was not the only one there who should have listened attentively to Father Fell’s sermon, oh no. There was also young Timothy Barnes whose parents must have surely been disappointed with him. As a devout christian, Prudence was naturally not one to judge - that was His job! - but according to her, Mr. and Mrs. Barnes should send Timmy to a boarding school. That would do him well - good old discipline that so many young ones were lacking these days. Just last week Mrs. Jenkins witnessed Timothy whisper something to one of the other altar boys during mass. The two of them left the church rather quickly after the service’s end and they seemed suspicious . To Mrs. Jenkins’ eagle eye, this could only mean one thing, a crime so great she felt the need to cross herself whenever she thought of it - the boys were Up To No Good. Perhaps drugs. Oh, it was always the drugs, from what Prudence had heard.
Mrs. Jenkins looked at her watch. It was now 8:33. Father Fell was approaching the end of his sermon. He now talked about extending kindness to others, such a heartwarming topic! Oh, Prudence adored Father Fell and his wise words. He always smiled at everyone, inquired about his parishioners’ health and had patience for everyone1. He may have been a bit too soft but that only worked in his favour because it allowed all the people to see that priests were flawed as well.
Oh, and he brewed some excellent tea! Mrs. Jenkins only hoped he didn’t procure it from Misses Finch and Cavendish. The two middle-aged ladies lived together, probably due to the lack of romantic prospects for either of them (such a sad fate!) and they owned a garden. A garden full of herbs . Perhaps some lesser people, like Mr. Prichard could fall for this but Mrs. Jenkins wasn’t born yesterday and she knew very well what herbs this was about2.
The time was now 8:36, Prudence noticed. Father Fell was wrapping up. Then, just as he was reciting the final words-
“-and think about what we discussed about temptations.”
-something weird happened.
Or perhaps, some one weird?
With a flash of ominous, purple fog, a figure was suddenly standing beside Father Fell. Tall and pale, with curls the color of Mrs. Greenfield’s lipstick falling all around his face. The lower half of his body resembled that of a sinful snake - the scandal ! - and coiled around itself, scales glistening under the artificial church lightning. His eyes matched that image, with vertical pupils and bright yellow irises. All of those things were, naturally, alarming but the worst part was the upper part of the stranger’s body. Unclothed completely, everyone present could witness what it looked like, everyone !
Mrs. Jenkins clutched her rosary harder in her hand. Her eyes widened in shock and disgust at such a show of depravity. She turned around to see what everyone’s reactions were, to confirm that her rosary clutching was in fact the most appalled out of everyone.
There were no reactions. All the other parishioners stood still, frozen like statues, eyes glazed over like those of the youth staring at their sinful phones.
Somehow it was only her, Prudence Jenkins, survivor3 of the great Cold Shoulder War of the local knitting club, the Guardian Of Decency of the parish, that could see this.
So be it, then. If such a duty befell her, she would follow the Lord’s will and witness this appalling show, take notes, remember every sordid detail and hold it over Mrs. Jones’4 head.
Dutifully, she looked at the menacing figure standing next to Father Fell. The priest had his mouth wide open but, like a great preacher he was, he regained his composure quickly.
“This… isn’t a good time,” he said to the Evil Creature.
Prudence gasped. To speak so openly and bravely in the face of so much sin? Incredible!
She clutched the rosary even tighter and looked to the stranger to see his reaction.
“Yeah, no, I can see that,” said stranger murmured.
Oh this was so exciting! And by exciting, Mrs. Jenkins of course meant appalling .
“Is there… did you leave something at my place last night?” Father Fell asked.
Mrs. Jenkins furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. What possibly could have the priest meant by that? And was he blushing ?
“Fuck’s sake,” the Evil Intruder sighed - the vulgarity of it! - “at least pretend to banish me!”
Oh this was getting weirder and weirder with every second. Why would Father Fell only pretend to banish a sinful creature? What did he mean by “his place” and “last night”?
This didn’t matter, however, because the priest then made a shooing away motion with his hand at the strange scary serpent.
“Shoo, naughty one!”
With those words5 the creature disappeared.
And so did Mrs. Jenkins’ memory of the last few minutes.
She found herself holding her rosary very tightly. Why was that? Had she noticed something terrifying? Perhaps Miss Rogers’ new hat?
Everything, however, seemed perfectly fine. Father Fell was a bit redder than a moment prior but that was hardly suspicious - it was the middle of summer, after all.
1. Even for the organist, Mr. Williams, who could turn the most cheerful songs into something one would sing during a funeral. Back to the story.
2. The herbs in question were actually perfectly legal and delicious in one’s tea. Claire Finch and Penny Cavendish would happily invite Prudence Jenkins for teatime if she didn’t always avoid their gazes. Back to the story.
3. and victor Back to the story.
4. Her biggest gossiping rival. She always had the Bad Sources only. Back to the story.
5. and one last eyeroll Back to the story.