Doubting Thomas

by Adam Grinter

  “The Church is a wonderful movement in the world. The community it provides, the help it can impart worldwide, the force for good it can become, the political power it could persuade, who can argue with an organisation that preaches love for their fellow man.”

  He was ignoring some very obvious arguments, however his enthusiasm was apparent. His face lit up as he spoke of the church; his church. He waved his arms around himself gesturing to the building we were currently in as an example of his words. For all my doubts he was dragging me along with him.

  “We would like you to help us by debunking miracles, by giving us the opposite arguments, by keeping us straight.” William offered.

  Of all the scenarios of what I was walking into this wasn’t one of them. It was a very interesting proposition. The more I thought about it the more fascinating it seemed. However I didn't want to give too much away, job interviews and contract negotiations are like poker, keep your hand hidden and try not to betray what you are holding.

  "OK." I said, trying to bluff convincingly by saying as little as possible.

  "You would be kept out of the public eye and report to myself and the other Bishops, two of which you have already met."

  "It definitely sounds interesting." I said tamely.

  William looked pleased at this comment and stood up slowly. He started towards the centre of the Cathedral, looked back and said, "Let me show you around."

  I dutifully got up and followed him.

  He nodded pleasantly at the small crowds that milled around the building looking at the impressive architecture. This was his building and he was obviously very proud of it. He was comfortable here and strode down the aisle with purpose, I had to up my pace to keep up with him.

  We reached the altar and he swerved to the left and headed towards a partly hidden door. William took out a key and unlocked it, we both entered a small corridor. The lights were already on so it was easy to see the dusty footprints on the floor before us.

  "Only I have a key for this part of the building." William commented. "You would be based in an office at the end of this hall."

  It surprised me that he was already presuming I would take the job. Truth be told, I was surprised I hadn't accepted it already.

  We arrived at the office and he opened the door. It was slightly larger than a broom cupboard but it wasn’t as cluttered. A desk dominated the centre of the room. It was piled with files and pieces of paper. A layer of dust covered the top copies.

  "These are all reported miracles and supernatural events people have attributed to God. We get about twenty or thirty letters every week and it would be your job to whittle them down and investigate the ones that look likely."

  I stepped into the room and took the first piece of paper from the pile to see what level of craziness I would be opening myself up to. I wasn't disappointed.

  The letter addressed to 'The Catholic Church, London' told the story of a daughter who was seriously ill with a non-disclosed illness. The family took her to the hospital, prayed throughout the night and in the morning ‘God’ had healed her. Therefore they would like to register a miracle. I respectfully put the letter back down and nodded solemnly, not sure how else to react.

  William looked at me expectantly. I didn't want to appear too eager but I knew this was the job that would put the interest and meaning back in my life.

  "Well..." I pondered aloud to buy myself some time to frame the acceptance that was by now inevitable.

  William filled the ensuing silence with a financial offer that was double what I earned with the police, with an unlimited expense account. I raised an eyebrow in what I hoped would make me appear enigmatic but probably just made me look surprised.

  This time William let the silence fill the space between us, ultimately it was me that felt the need to break it. I couldn’t hold myself back any longer.

  "I would be delighted to accept your offer." I said professionally. It was my second use of the word in a couple of days. This time I hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

  "Brilliant." William beamed. "You’ll need this." He handed me a key he had taken from a trouser pocket. I looked at it quizzically but I’d already worked out what it was. "This is your copy of the key for the corridor."

  I nodded and tried to look suitably impressed I was being trusted with this.

  "You will have carte-blanche to go where you need, to get the answers you demand. Everything you need will be here for you on Monday."

  William extended his hand shaking mine, sealing the deal. We retraced our steps back into the real world on the other side of the small door.

  William escorted me outside. He arranged to meet me again on Monday morning at ten. All the business formalities would be filled in and I could begin my miracle hunt as he called it. We shook hands yet again and went our separate ways.

  All the way back to West London I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. I must have looked like a crazy person to the rest of the people on the tube but I didn't care. I had purpose again and I couldn’t wait to get started.

  #

  The weekend came and went quickly and predictably uneventfully.

  Monday morning arrived, at nine forty-five I was standing outside Westminster Cathedral in my best suit waiting for my excitement to subside. I wanted to create a good impression on my first day.

  Ten minutes later I entered the Cathedral and looked around for William. He was standing at the altar with a small smile crinkling the corners of his mouth. He noticed me enter and strode towards me just as he had done on our previous meeting. We shook hands again and exchanged greetings.

  William turned and looked at the door to my new world.

  "After you." He gestured.

  I arrived at the door and fumbled for my new key. I found it, put it in the small lock, it slid in with no resistance, It turned easily and the door opened. I followed it into the corridor and walked to my new office.

  The room looked the same as it when I had previously seen it but there was now an extra feature that hadn't been there before.

  "We've put a new chair in here for you." William chipped in superfluously.

  "Thanks." I commented.

  William took an envelope off the desk and handed it to me. The A4 sized package had no dust on it and was addressed to me by name. I looked at William quizzically while I pulled the contents out. I scanned the first page and realised it was my contract of employment, the boring part of any first day at work.

  I scanned the paperwork and didn't spot anything remarkable, it all seemed so mundane. So, I happily signed my life away to the Catholic Church.

  Chapter Six

  I allowed myself to be carried along with the throngs of commuters as they disembarked the tube at Victoria Station. I rode their wave to the top of the escalator and through the turnstiles until I was disgorged, blinking into the natural light of the street.

  I turned right as I had for the previous six months and headed towards my place of work, Westminster Cathedral. The reality of my work location had sunk in very quickly but even though it was real it made it no less exciting. This iconic landmark attracted visitors from around the world and I worked here. I felt the familiar butterflies and pushed on to my destination.

  I arrived at my office and sat in the chair that had been thoughtfully provided for me. It was a standard office chair and was functional if not entirely comfortable. In my time sitting in it, it had started to mould itself to my form. It no longer made my side ache after prolonged periods of sitting in it.

  I had cleared the backlog of ‘miracles’ and had found no likely candidates for divine interpretation. I reported by email to William at the end of every week on my progress, or lack thereof. Each Monday I received an email reply with a polite, “OK. Thanks.” I wasn’t sure if I was actually achieving anything apart from clearing an office of its clutter.

  I took a sip of my rapidly cooling cup of take-away coffee and surveyed my domain. My desk, that had once overflo
wed with dusty paperwork, was bare with no sign of the dumping ground it had been when I first encountered it. I took out my laptop and placed it on the empty desk, I turned it on and finished my, by now, tepid brew while it booted up.

  I checked my email; empty. I checked my phone; empty. I checked my watch; nine-fifteen. It was going to be a long day.

  I had been left to my own devices by William and the church and save for the weekly email exchange I hadn’t heard from anyone in an official capacity since I’d started. Being hidden away behind a locked door, down a dusty corridor, in an office on my own, I was starting to feel like the church’s dirty little secret.

  My eyes were drawn to the opposite wall and the decoration that had stared back at me for the last six months. Despite my lack of belief, I felt it would be somehow disrespectful to remove the crucifix from its pride of place; judging me from the other side of the room.

  Under my desk was a small filing cabinet. I had discovered it in my first week on the job. As I cleared scientific miracles and delusional claims I uncovered it piece by piece. I had found it locked and that was how it had remained. There were two drawers and neither would move, even under the strongest of persuasion. I knew there was something inside because I could pick it up, shake it and hear whatever it was rattling around in there. I would be able to break into it with some sturdy tools but the figure on the wall discouraged criminal damage.

  His judgement hung over me as I considered breaking into it once more. He won the battle of wills and so I tried to ignore it once again.

  I’d tidied as I’d debunked. The office no longer had a layer of dust over every surface. I was able to breathe deeply without worrying I was about to have a coughing fit.

  Having cleared the back-log, I was hoping for a new influx to keep me busy. After being told the church received twenty to thirty claims a week I had expected a steady stream of letters or emails but none had been forthcoming. My last email stated my desk was now empty and I was waiting for a new batch but my reply had been the habitual “OK. Thanks.” with no other comment.

  My Monday was spent killing time waiting for my next assignments but as usual I saw no-one to deliver the work. By lunch time having cleaned my office again, located an ancient vacuum cleaner, and hoovered the dusty carpet; I went looking for William around the Cathedral. Eventually I located a guide who told me William was away on business and they were unsure when he would be returning.

  With nothing to do, I took the opportunity to sneak home early. My work ethic still made me feel guilty as I sat at home at four P.M. on a Monday afternoon.

  It was that work ethic which made me fight my way through the rush hour commuters to keep business hours and put me behind a desk for nine A.M. Knowing I had nothing to do but hoping I was wrong.

  I looked at my watch again; nine-thirty. I wondered if it was too early for a lunch break.

  #

  My empty days stretched to a week and my ethics started to slip. My start time remained professionally prompt but once I ascertained my hope for work was to be denied for another day, my finishing time got earlier and earlier. My weekly email update was courteous, but I hoped my frustration at a week of doing nothing would shine through.

  William

  As stated in my previous email I have cleared the backlog of letters that were left for me in my office. I have cleaned the office and am awaiting the next batch of ‘miracles’ to work through. I hope they will be forthcoming. Until then I shall continue to wait patiently for further instructions.

  Thomas.

  I left the office on Friday just after one PM and locked the small door behind me.

  Sitting at home with a cup of coffee I reflected I was just as bored now as previously, only the location had changed.

  #

  Monday morning arrived and I fought my way to the office more in hope than expectation. I sat in my comfortable office chair and booted up my emails.

  “OK. Thanks.” stared back at me and I wondered what I could fill the morning doing. I ventured out of my oubliette and small talked with guides who I recognised to nod a greeting to in the morning and a bye in the afternoon. Nobody had any news on William.

  My only addition to my office was a tray on which I had placed a kettle, mugs, teaspoons, and instant coffee. I picked up milk on the way in, so made myself a cup of coffee not out of need, but rather to kill another couple of empty minutes.

  I wandered the cathedral aimlessly with the steaming mug in my hand allowing the beauty and tranquillity of the place to wash over me.

  I decided to treat myself to lunch. At twelve-thirty I meandered down the streets of Victoria to find something that took my fancy. Forty-five minutes later I sauntered back to work knowing it wouldn’t be long before I retraced this route back to the station and then home.

  I unlocked my door and stepped through, I immediately knew something had changed. There were no physical signs anything had moved but having been the only visitor here for months the feel of it had changed. The air had been disturbed while I was away.

  I shut the door behind me and stepped cautiously into the dimly lit hallway. I listened but only silence answered me. Another step, more silence. And another.

  It was only as I was halfway down the corridor the thought occurred to me, only William and I had the key. My caution was misplaced, William must be here.

  My paranoia receded, replaced by excitement. Not at the thought of seeing him more in the hope of something to do.

  I took the last five steps to my office and looked in expecting to see him sat in my chair. Disturbing my hard-worn imprint. The room was disappointingly empty.

  My excitement dampened and I could almost see the long afternoon of nothingness stretching before me. I slumped into my untouched chair and stared at the laptop hoping for something.

  Something was there.

  On the keyboard was a pristine white envelope with a single word written on it.

  Thomas.

  Genesis

  She huddled in the door-way, the biting wind pulling at her ill-fitting coat. She hugged herself to keep the warmth in. Her head was bowed, staring at the ground. Although she couldn’t see it, her belly got in the way.

  She had looked at the lump as it had grown over the previous eight and a half months. Where her stomach had been flat and toned before, it was now full and to her eyes, unnatural.

  She tried to love the life growing inside her but however hard she tried she just couldn’t. The constant reminder of her ruined life was a heavy burden to bear.

  She looked up at the sound of a passing car. Dirty water splashed her split shoes, her feet were already cold and wet so she barely registered the new discomfort.

  Her eyes refocused, a determination crept in, she stepped out, turned left and headed down the street. She had nowhere to go and nowhere she needed to be. Walking in and of itself felt like a purpose for the moment.

  She wearily trudged along the road not knowing where she should go. She couldn’t go home, but she also knew she couldn’t stay away.

  Hers had been a troubled childhood. The estate where she had grown up was a breeding ground of addicts, criminals and teenage pregnancy. She’d avoided two but got hit by the golden arrow of the third.

  Her mother had fallen into the first category which meant for long periods she’d needed to fend for herself. School was always an afterthought. By the time she was fifteen she’d missed so much school it was assumed, she’d left. Her mother was deep into her addiction. She was forced, by familial connections, to take care of her. Food was scarce because money was tight. At fifteen she didn’t have the skills to help herself let alone someone else as well. She’d fallen through the cracks of society, forgotten by most, a sound-bite to others.

  Then Jason came into her life. He bumped into her in the hall as she came back from the shop with a loaf of bread and a pint of milk; all she could afford. He spoke to her, asked how she was, asked how her mother was. He seemed genuinely concer
ned. For the first time in a long time she felt noticed.

  She invited him round for a cup of tea. There was no romantic intention behind the invitation she just didn’t want to go back to being alone. Jason was the perfect gentleman, he talked, drank a cup of tea and then left. Her heart sank as he walked out of her life.

  A week later there was a knock at her door. She opened it and there stood Jason, she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. He said he was checking on her, making sure she was still OK. He bought her some food from the supermarket. He put it on the side in the kitchen and told her not to put it away until he’d gone, it would make him feel embarrassed. He told her to sit down, he made her a cup of tea, buttered her some toast, and then sat contentedly while she ate. She babbled between mouthfuls about things she thought he would be interested in. He just sat with a satisfied smile on his face nodding occasionally. After he had gone she looked in the bags he had brought, teabags, bread, milk all the essentials. However, one bag was full of biscuits and cakes, sugary treats she craved, but couldn’t afford. She binged that night making herself sick but happy none-the-less.

  Three days later he was back, another bag of groceries and another cup of tea. This time he took part in her conversation. He eventually asked her to do him a favour. She agreed easily without knowing what the favour was. Jason was her friend, Jason looked out for her, Jason would never let anything happen to her.

  She put on the best clothes she had, Jason had told her to look ‘sexy’ - whatever that meant. Her low-cut top showed her cleavage and her legs were accentuated by her high heels and her only pair of tights without ladders. She met the stranger at the bar just like Jason had told her, he’d seemed nice, he bought her a couple of drinks. They’d talked, he seemed polite. Her first time came and went quickly, the hotel room had been clean. The man had been gentle enough; but it still hurt. Jason had told her he needed her to do it for him and she didn’t want to let him down.