by Joe Del Castillo

A couple, in their early twenties, one sweeping and the other mopping, looked down from the choir loft and observed two men and a young woman enter the empty church, walk down the center aisle, and stop by the steps to the altar. 

“I recognize the two guys,” Billy whispered. “They usher on Sundays.”

“I know the girl,” Moira said. “She’s the daughter of the old guy with no hair. They live on my block. They’re odd.”

“So is the younger man.” Billy tapped his head. “I don’t think they’re right up here.”

“My grandmother says they’re feeble minded.”

“I think collecting the Sunday donations is all they are capable of.” 

“Be kind, the parish relies on them.” 

He leaned over and kissed Moira’s cheek.

“Not here, we’re in Church.”

Father Tomlin entered from one side of the altar. Reaching the center front steps, he greeted the three standing before him. The two moved toward the balcony edge to watch. The priest spotted them and called out, “Join us. You can help me.”

When they got down, the priest directed Moira to the woman’s side and Billy to the right of the younger man. “I’ll explain. I’m marrying Fay, Fred Melton’s daughter, to Harold Elva. You kids can serve as witnesses because theirs haven’t shown up. I can’t wait; other people are depending on me. Just watch and listen.” 

A marriage? thought Moira. In midweek, in mid-afternoon? In worn out street clothes?

Father Tomlin proceeded to perform the ceremony. When Harold took Fay’s hand, Moira glanced at Billy. In five minutes, it was over. There was no kiss. The newlyweds, along with the bride’s father, turned, and walked down the center aisle silently, and left the church. 

Moira took Billy’s hand. “It’s like they’re going off to work.”  

”You wonder what just went on?” the priest asked. “As you might know, Fred’s daughter is mentally impaired. His best friend is young Harold. Although they may seem like an odd group to you, over the years they’ve come to rely on each other, but now Fred is getting on, and by arranging this marriage, he knows his daughter will be cared for. And Harold and Fay will be companions to each other. Any questions?” 

“No,” they both said.

“Then thanks for your help. You can return to work.” The priest departed. 

Back in the choir loft, Moira stared down at the empty altar. In her mind, she watched the brief ceremony take place again, but this time she saw Fay in a long wedding gown and Harold in a black tux. She could almost hear the church organ playing the wedding march. And this time, Fay and Harold kissed.

Moira drew Billy close to her and kissed his cheek. 

“Hey,’ he laughed. “I thought for you there was no kissing in church. Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.” She then placed her head on his shoulder. “But years from now, whatever happens, will you watch over me?”  

Joe Del Castillo lives on Long Island, New York and is a member of the Long Island Writers Guild.  His previous story for us was “And the Angels Sing.”