 Charity Begins at Home By Serhiy KHARCHENKO |
A man ran into a small Orthodox church and began to pace up and down near the icons and burning candles. The priest, Father Sergey, was standing at the pulpit, laughed to himself: This guy was obviously an atheist and he moved like a fat fly that had just escaped death delivered from the end of a rolled up newspaper. Out loud, the priest politely reminded the nervous visitor that one usually crosses himself when entering the house of God. The man immediately froze in his tracks and made the sign of the cross with the jerky gestures of a former communist of long standing.
By virtue of his profession, Father Sergey was an excellent judge of appearances. He determined that the stranger was evidently fond of two parts of his body: his big, flat feet and his carefully dyed dark moustache. After carrying out the Christian ritual suggested by the priest, the man started almost hopping in place while twisting his moustache. Then suddenly he burst into a heart-rending monologue.
The priest immediately realized that the appearance of this life-sized insect portended nothing good. As it turned out, the well-dressed visitor was being pursued by two bulky thugs, who at that very moment were waiting for him on the street outside the church. He had a beating coming to him - and even worse - a public beating that somehow involved disposable diapers.
The atheist filled his story with spicy details, leading Father Sergey to conclude that it would be best to invite the two toughs in on the discussion. But first he would have to hang a sign on the church door: "Temple closed for cleaning." As a layman, the priest had had his fair share of romantic adventures. Since taking his vows, he took particular pleasure in listening to various family scandals during confessions.
Now as he stood on the threshold, he could see the two young thugs pounding the pavement back and forth, several meters from the church entrance. He called them inside with a wide wave of his hand, made even wider by the broad sleeves of his dark robe.
As before, he pointed out the necessity to cross oneself before entering the church, adding firmly that mobile phones should be turned off as well. In addition, the two economy-size packages of paper diapers, containing 20 diapers each, were expropriated from the men. The priest explained that "these hygienic delights" would be given to the poor. Within minutes, the priest learned that the mustached man was a rejected husband, while the two beefy guys were competitors for the affections of his much younger wife, Zina.
The priest tacitly nicknamed the younger guy "Pork Chops," and the elder one "Cow Man" - like the character from the children's cartoon - only this character had a certain pathos, which added a tragic dimension to an otherwise simple face. Pork Chops, who was quite a bit shorter but more muscular, had the look of a former Spetsnatz.
Whether it was the eyes of the saints peering down on them from the icons on the walls or the playfully penetrating stare of the priest, the two men, equally wired up, were suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to confess.
It turns out that the plump former communist had long since been separated from his wife but was fully aware of the competitive courtship being fought over the ex-wife by her two suitors. Actually, it was more of a malicious comedy of errors than a courtship.
For example, Pork Chops would drop by Zina's flat for a romantic dinner replete with wine and Filip Kirkorov CDs, only to have the whole affair spoiled by Cow Man, who would make prank phone calls, pretending, for example, to be a telemarketing salesman or ZhEK official.
For his part, Pork Chops would follow his competitor and the object of his affection during walks in the park or evenings at the local cinema. The cartoon character lookalike could never be 100 percent sure that Pork Chops was nearby, but he always suspected it, which was the worst part of all. On a couple of occasions, however, Pork Chops could clearly be spotted peeking from behind a tree or covering his face with a jumbo bucket of popcorn.
During these revelations, the priest listened with patient enthusiasm, never once interrupting the men, who surprisingly took turns without having to be asked. Cow Man and Pork Chops seemed eager to tell their side of the story, with God or the closest thing to him, as their witness. The chubby ex-husband, however, just kept hopping in place and twisting his mustache. What's hidden in his soul, wondered the priest.
As the two hefty young men delved deeper and deeper into the ill-fated romance, it became clear that the cuckolded communist wasn't just a passive observer in the menage-a-trois. For one thing, he didn't even raise an eyebrow when Cow Man revealed some of the more intimate details of his relations with Zina. After all, they had never gotten a divorce. For another, in the presence of Cow Man and Pork Chops, he went from being the victim of two brutes to being a witness to feminine manipulation.
Moreover, the human fly displayed an uncanny interest in the diapers. Father Sergey noticed more than once how he never took his eye off the altar boy who had carried them from one end of the church to the other in search of the key to the pantry. The kid, no more than 15 years old, phlegmatically hauled the two bundles of "hygienic delights" from the entrance to the altar, then into a side cloister and back out again. After being distracted by an emotional outburst from Cow Man, who had accused Pork Chop of peeping through the window during his lovemaking sessions with Zina, the overweight apparatchik turned back around to discover that the altar boy had disappeared.
He immediately asked to be excused from the family counseling session to seek out the men's room. The two lads continued to pour out their hearts to Father Sergey, who eventually grew more than a little curious as to what had happened to the fat former official. Up until this point, the Orthodox priest had demonstrated the patience of Job, and was more than a little pleased with himself for defusing a potential conflict.
Cow Man and Pork Chop had even begun talking directly and amicably to each other, ignoring the presence of Sergey completely. Finally, they started heading arm-in-arm toward the door, having decided to resolve their conflict in a pelmeni eating conflict: the one who ate the most would win Zina, while the other would have to shoot himself. No vodka was to be involved. But the priest didn't hear this last condition of reconciliation, as he had already set off in search of the fly.
The details of the last hour and a half began to race through his mind, as he began to search the church and surrounding grounds. Neither the cuckolded commie nor the altar boy were to be found.
Moreover, it still wasn't clear why the strange visitor had been so shaken up in the first place. Pork Chop and Cow Man seemed more angry with each other than with him. In between their passionate declarations of love for Zina, one of them had let it slip that her husband had some sort of kinky fascination with dressing up like a toddler. Father Sergey was a bit embarrassed to ask for more details, and quite frankly he just couldn't get a word in edgewise.
But one thing the priest was sure of - neither of the lovelorn youths were the owners of those pampers - thought Father Sergey as he wandered through the basement then the back courtyard, occasionally calling out for the altar boy. Cow Man said he had been told where to find the diapers by a mysterious caller who promised to give him information on Pork Chops' affair with Zina. Pork Chop said he had a note slid under his door telling him to show up outside the church.
Zina was at work, thought Sergey. She reminded him of his last girl friend - one of the reasons he had decided to become a priest. Not only was she a married woman playing off these two young men, she seemed to be collecting a nice income from her former, much older husband. At least that's what the fat fly said during 'his confession.' "Where is he anyway?" muttered the priest.
"Are you looking for me?"
Sergey looked up from behind the confessional to see the altar boy standing a few steps away with the two bags of diapers under his arms.
"Why, yes," said Sergey, trying not to show his relief or mounting curiosity. "What happened to that plump well-dressed guy?" he asked timidly.
"Oh father, he ran off as if he'd seen the devil himself," said the altar boy in his village accent.
"Why?" inquired the priest.
"I don't know. He asked what I had done with the diapers, and I told him that Sister Zina from the orphanage had picked them up."
"But we don't give such things to the orphanage, and there's no one there by that name anyway," said the priest in surprise.
"I know," said the altar boy, "and I also know that lying is a sin, but we can buy a while lot of candles and fix the roof with the money I found wrapped up in those diapers."
"Charity begins at home," intoned Father Sergey.
|
Read also previous issue' articles:
Cows and Parachutists
Vietnam, Cobra-laced rice moonshine and those smiles
Gambling on the Slope
Manners Cost Nothing
A Roger By Any Other Name
Never Underestimate the Mark!
|
| |
CONTACT US |
|
|
|
