During lulls my boss, a fat man who always looked like he hadn't shaved for two days, told me about how good he used to be at football in high school. I was a fucking diety, he said. You should've seen me throw, man. I know it sounds like I'm bullshitting you, but seriously. You should've fucking seen me.
He would toss me a football that didn't exist and be winded.
I mopped floors and thought about nothing and two hours would disappear. I cleaned the Slurpee machine and the toilets and the sinks and there would go another one.
The teenage women left used tampons on the floor in the lavatory and giggled because they knew I had to clean them up.
Transparent, I sorted and stacked candies, beverages, sandwiches sealed in plastic, potato chips, nuts, crackers, jars of salsa, pet food, soups, cat litter, ice, cleaners, newspapers, magazines, cigarettes, packages of beef jerky, cheap CDs, maps, key chains, postcards.
Sometimes people would reach in front of me while I was working to get what they wanted without saying excuse me.
Sometimes I could see reflections of classmates I left behind in high school making faces at me when they thought I wasn't looking.
Did you know 7-Eleven licenses more than 7,200 stores in North America alone? my boss asked me across the store as I was disinfecting the handles on the refrigerator units one evening. 32,000 worldwide?
I did not.
It's like it's its own fucking country, man, he said, only not.
Petra singing about how Christ will love you after the rain stops falling, after the sun forgets itself, after the world scalds clean for the last time.
Eyes closed against the brightness.
Disciple singing about how today is already yesterday, tomorrow already come.
Listening.
I thought about how in Psalms it says: But God will smash the heads of his enemies, crushing the skulls of those who love their guilty ways. The Lord says: “I will bring my enemies down from Bashan; I will bring them up from the depths of the sea. You, my people, will wash your feet in their blood, and even your dogs will get their share.”
The cab easing to the curb past a zebra crossing on a road lined with dingy brick housing projects.
Mews, the driver saying. First block of flats on the right.
The door slamming shut behind us. The front window rolling down.
I stooped and peered in. The driver continued staring straight ahead. There were two dark purple stains on his neck. Birth marks, maybe. It looked like something with pincers had gone after him.
Bless you both, he said.
The window rolling up.
The cab beetling forward.
10:59. We waited in the foyer like we were told.
The front door had been bashed in. It hung off its hinges at an angle that suggested exhaustion. There were holes the size of soccer balls in the plaster like someone had taken a sledgehammer to them for fun. An upended desk missing its legs. A headless cobalt blue mannequin lying among garbage bags, newspapers, crushed beer cans, empty liquor bottles, ceramic shards, rebar, shreds of clothing, an overturned lamp, a torn-open teddy bear.
A wiry guy with a gray ponytail stepped out of the doorway at the far end. He was wearing jeans and a heavy beige Irish wool sweater and sneakers. His hands were in his pockets as though he were out for a stroll in the park. He gestured with his chin.
Back here, he said.
Five of them in what once had been the kitchen. Three men and two women, all in their late thirties, early forties, all in jeans and sweaters and sneakers. You could see they knew how little words meant, too.
Taking off our coats. Taking our seats at the table.
There was no heat. It was forty-five degrees, forty-five or fifty degrees. The thin guy in the ponytail assured us this would take just a few minutes, fifteen or twenty at most, then we would be on our way.
A black man with a Caribbean accent and an Asian woman with a French accent left. When they returned, they were carrying our gear.
The man kneeled before me, the woman before Iphi. I couldn't understand what they were doing at first. They were doing things, but I couldn't understand what it was they were doing even though I knew what it was they were doing.
They were explaining. That's what they were doing. They were explaining to us how to become thunder.
What is faith?
Faith is a heavy cloth. Canvas. Hemp.
How shall we know the things which we are to believe?
Cut the cloth into the shape of a vest. Cut another swath into fourteen pouches.
Why did God make you?
To sew the pouches onto the vest. To finish off the armholes, the trim.
What is God?
The ability to conceal the device beneath your clothing.
Where is God?
In the fragmentation effect.
Does God see us?
He sees the nails, bolts, ball bearings between layers of sheet metal bonded with glue.
If God is everywhere, why do we not see Him?
We do not need to. We feel His love instead.
What are angels?
On earth, we call them improvised initiators.
What do angels do?
One breathes and then all breathe sympathetically. In a chorus of beatific sound.
How does God control the angels?
Through the simple switch that runs down your sleeve.
What form does this switch take?
The red plastic button from a child's toy.
Who is the Redeemer?
We call Him a nine-volt battery.
What is the Redeemer's name?
Eveready. Duracell.
Where can we find Him?
In an old-fashioned radio. A smoke detector. A walkie-talkie. The Redeemer is everywhere.
What do you mean by grace?
The importance pressing against your ribs, tugging on your shoulders.
What is the Blessed Trinity?
One God in three Divine Persons: don't trip, don't bump into others, avoid sudden jolts.
Which are the means instituted by our Lord to enable men at all times to share in the fruits of the Redemption?
Give yourself over to distraction. Imagine nothing. Imagine it again.
What does Redemption feel like?
Everything becoming something else.
How is Baptism given?
Flex your thumb. It is that easy. It always has been. It always will be.
How is Baptism experienced?
You hear nothing. You see nothing. You sense no heat.
How, then, do you know Baptism has come?
It is as though someone has reached inside your skull and flicked off a switch. You will know it by not knowing it.
What is forgiveness?
Your heart expanding to the size of the universe in less than a second.
What is brotherhood?
Your heart joining with the hearts of all those around you.
What is Heaven?
Knowing that you can go home at last.
What will you find there?
The click. The silence. The peace. The voice whispering into your ear. The voice saying
February