Terrible as an Army

"We can't take it anymore. This has been happening for more than a decade already."

"I am not sure how much further we could endure this."

"Father, is there anything we can do?"

Their pleas would have filled the mind of Father Shun as his fingers moved over his rosary beads had he not been having second thoughts about his reaction to them - a reaction that was eagerly welcomed by the fishermen.

"If our coast guard or navy cannot defend us, then God will!," expressed Mang Rhuel to his clique as the waves calmly broke on the shore.

The group agreed as they all took a sip of gin.

"God damn those Chinese ships," he added, "and the corrupt officials who sold us to them!"

"But, but," interrupted Mang Elmer. "Wouldn't he just stay for a while and then would force us to go back to the shore before we could catch enough to at least break even?"

The older fisherman dismissed the latter's fears with a swing of his glass. "Having a man of God would be different from vloggers who are only after views and likes. He seemed sincere when I talked to him."

Mang Rhuel took another sip. "He did say pastors should 'smell like the sheep.'" He then acted as if he was smelling his armpits. "Or in our case, 'smell like fish.'"

The entire group burst into laughter, disturbing the silence of the night.

A voice then hushed the merrymaking, "Quiet down there! People are sleeping!"

"Hey, Jo! What brings you here?," Mang Elmer greeted the newcomer with a wry smile. "It's already late."

"I couldn't sleep and you drunkards are making it worse," the former answered sternly.

Teasing the man, Mang Rhuel remarked, "You should have attended the Masses in Bayan. The old priest's homily there would cure your insomnia." He then turned to his peers who laughed even more. "I could say so, I am a living proof since he was still here in our parish."

He added another half-serious suggestion. "Or you can pray all twenty mysteries of the rosary."

The other man crossed his arms as he straightened himself and faced the group, "Also, what is it that I heard? That the priest would go to the sea with us? Have you no shame? Your rituals that are offensive to God. I tell you, letting that priest on the boat would just bring us tragedy, even war. China will invade this country, I tell you, because of your superstitions and your idols."

"Oh, come on," Mang Vic joined in, "We're here to have a good time, not to engage in a debate."

Mang Rhuel's face was now also serious. "So, if the Chinese coast guard and their ilk decide to leave us alone after, what would you do?" He questioned Mang Jo, "If some miracle happened, would you shut the hell up once and for all?"

"Tss, as if God is on your side," dismissed the middle aged fisherman, who was ordinarily their peer, with a wave of a hand. "If you don't want to be saved, don't be a Christian, but as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." And with that, he left and disappeared in the dark.

Mang Vic shook his head. "I may no longer go to church, but 'pastor' here really has nothing good to say."

"That's why we don't invite him to our drinking sessions," reasoned Mang Elmer.

In the convent a few meters away, Father Shun kissed the crucifix of his rosary to signal the end of his prayer. He would usually not pray it at night as his usual time to do it was in the afternoon, but he felt compelled to do it at this time. Nonetheless, he felt this relieved him of his anxiety and resolved to go to his bishop next thing in the morning to ask for leave.