"In the name of the father, son, Holy Spirit."
"Amen."
"Lord I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof but only say the word and my soul shall be healed."
"Cricket, have you ever heard of this Reynolds kid?"
Matthew Mara looked up, his face a pale red.
"Yeah, I-i mean I just know her from physical therapy I'm not-"
"No, no it's a guy."
"Oh. That's Dennis Reynolds. The 'gOLdeN gOd.' Whatever, back to prayer. If I'm gonna become a priest, I need to meet the basic requirements and knowing the creeds and prayers are very important."
Mac groaned, cracking his neck.
"Yeah yeah okay. Continue."
For the past few months, Matthew, or, as he was more famously known for his metal leg mechanisms that helped his crippled legs to walk, 'Rickety Cricket', had been trying to head start his priest trials, which he planned to take after high school, and being apart of the church youth committee he had access to the local church after hours.
Meaning he had keys and didn't consider it breaking and entering if he was worshipping God.
And being the only church in the middle of Philadelphia city life, it wasn't the nicest. There was only one working security camera, and it was pointed to the wall. All you could see was the confession room doors and the aspestos, water stains and graffiti.
Mac, not having anyone to take him to church, or having clothes nice enough to attend the liturgy's, would often sneak down to the church garden to smoke and do the occasional praying.
Naturally their paths crossed and every Thursday at 10pm from then on would be spent doing weekly sermons together .
It was probably the lamest thing a 16 year old could ever do in the 90s, which is why Mac made Cricket swear on his life to never tell anyone anything ever.
Even Charlie didn't know, and he and Mac had been best friends since they were 4.
They knew everything about each other.
But this was just for Mac.
Mac had always felt a personal connection to God. It felt empowering and comfortable to have faith and believe in something so powerful.
Charlie didn't have that. The only thing he really believed in was that the earth was flat.
And leprechauns.
"Alright, smell you later, Crick."
"Yeah yeah. Hey what's this about Dennis?"
"Oh I just ran into him. The guys a dick, am I right? I mean really, he really sucks."
But there was something about him...
After whacking his weed infested mind and having a full tweak out, those piercing blue eyes....
When he closed his eyes, Mac could still see them. It's like they wormed into his brain and sat there, their warmth and radiance diseasing him like a recurring nightmare.
His head was spinning and then Dennis' eyes grabbed him and the world went still...
or whatever. They were a shocking colour was all.
And then Mac went and zoned out, gawking at him like a girl. Oh God, this kid probably thought he was special or something. In some kind of program.
His face heated with embarrassment just thinking about it.
"Yeah he really is him and his friends are quite the trouble makers," Cricket said, sounding like he was quoting a children's cartoon. "But his sister is amazing. I do physical therapy with her and-"
"Cool story, see you later. It's almost 11,"
Mac said, desperate to escape another one of Crickets tangents about the beautiful Dee.
As soon as he heard the words 'physical therapy' his fight or flight mode kicked in and Mac knew he had to escape or he'd be there listening to him drone on about her pretty hair and pretty eyes and pretty face until dawn.
