Bless Me, Ultima(86)

“You damn liar!” Rita hissed back.

“Ah, ah, black spot on your soul,” Lloyd said and shook his finger at her.

“Shhhhhh!” the high school girl warned us. She hit Bones again. She hit him hard because I could hear her knuckles striking the bone of his skull and her exclamation when it hurt her.

“The door’s opening!” someone whispered. Father Byrnes stood at the entryway, smiling, surveying his flock. The parents returned his smile. They were pleased that he had done so well with us. I turned and looked at my father and mother and Ultima. Then the lines started moving forward.

“Remember your instructions!” the high school girl threatened us.

“Don’t go drop God on the floor!” Bones volunteered as he went by, and she whacked him again.

We had been told to take the Host carefully in our tongue and swallow it immediately. No part of the Host must be lost from the time it left the chalice to the time it entered our mouths.

“Don’t go bite on God,” Horse whispered.

Swallow Him carefully, don’t chew on Him. I wondered how God must feel to go into Horse’s stinking mouth.

Above us the choir sang. The two lines moved without incident down the aisle then filed into the front row of seats. Father Byrnes went up to the altar, the altar bell rang and mass began. All during the mass I prayed. I thought back to yesterday’s confession and about the mixed feelings that the revealing of my thoughts had left in me. But I had told everything, everything I thought was a sin. I had cleansed myself completely and prepared to take God into my body. Since the confession I had talked only to Ultima and my mother. I had kept myself pure.

On the altar the priest began the ceremony of changing the bread into flesh and the wine into blood. The body and blood of the risen Christ. Soon He would be with me, in me, and He would answer all the questions I had to ask.

The altar bell tinkled and we knelt; we bowed our heads and with our right fist softly beat our hearts, saying we believed in the mystery taking place before our eyes.

“It’s blood now,” Abel whispered when the priest raised the chalice with the wine, and his thin voice mixed mysteriously into the ringing altar bell. I peeped and saw the chalice raised high, into the cooing of the pigeons, into the mystery of the sky.

“Aggggh—” Horse spit on the floor, “blood—”

The blood of Lupito, the blood of Narciso, winding its way along the river, crying on the hills of the llano…

“Florence said it’s wine, and the priest drinks it because he’s a wino,” Lloyd said.

“Florence said he wouldn’t eat God,” Bones added.

I looked again and saw the flat round piece of bread the priest held up. That thin wafer was becoming God, it was becoming flesh.

“… Bread made flesh…”

“Meat,” Bones growled.

“No Bones, not like that!” I nodded my head. Somehow I couldn’t understand, the mystery was beginning to escape me! I shut my eyes tightly and prayed for forgiveness.

“It’s time—”

“What?”

“It’s time, the priest is waiting!”

“¡Chingada!”

I opened my eyes and stood. My heart was pounding. Was I ready? The line filed towards the altar railing. We knelt clumsily at the railing and tucked our hands beneath the white cloth that stretched over the top. The priest was at the far end of the railing; the girls were getting the communion   first. There was still time to pray.

Oh my God I am sorry for all my sins, “Because they displease Thee, Lord, Who art all good and deserving…”

“Shhhhh!” the high school girl said.

We waited quietly. Then the priest came to our side. The girls were already filing back to their seats. The altar boy held the gold platter under each chin, the priest mumbled something in Latin and placed the host on the tongue. He moved fast.

“Aghhhhhhh—” Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Bones jump up and push his finger into his mouth. The host had stuck to the roof of his mouth. He was jabbing God with his finger, trying to free Him, choking on Him.

Then suddenly the priest was in front of me. I caught a glimpse of the small, white wafer, the risen Christ, and then I closed my eyes and felt the host placed on my tongue. I received Him gladly, and swallowed Him. At last! I flooded the sticky piece of bread with hot saliva and swallowed it. God. Now I would know the answers! I bowed my head and waited for Him to speak to me.

“Tony! Tony!”

“Yes!” I cried.

“Go on! Go on!” It was the Kid poking me. “The line’s moving!”

Bones passed by me, still fingering his mouth. I was holding up the line, confusing them. I moved quickly to get back in step. We filed back into the pew and knelt.