Voices in the Mirror

by Ross Turner

  Voices in the Mirror

  By Ross Turner

  ©Ross Turner

  Because life is so much smaller than I used to think it was,

  Because all things, both good and bad, eventually come around, and because all things, both good and bad, eventually end,

  Always,

  Ross.

  It is perhaps not the Church and all that it stands for that some fear so, but instead the demons of humanity that lurk within, tainting its Holy walls with their evil and their lust and their malice.

  And what if that window into our own souls wasn't just to show us our reflections, the good and bad of who we are, but instead the reflection of the whole world around us, and how we see that, in all its entirety of good and evil.

  Chapter One

  “Though at times, my friends, I know it may feel like it’s all too much: like there’s simply no way to handle the difficult days. But I assure you, with all my heart, that there are always better times ahead.”

  Father Peter’s voice echoed around the vast church almost endlessly, and had a ring of both finality and fate to it as he began to round up his Service for that morning.

  He was not an overly tall man, and though past the age of fifty years, he had a head full of hair that looked as though it belonged to a much younger fellow, albeit frosted silver by the sometimes not so delicate hands of time.

  “The demons that haunt you today, will be your liberation tomorrow. This I can sorely promise you.”

  Despite his relatively small stature and stocky frame, garbed in a long, dark robe tied loosely at the waist, Father Peter had the uncanny ability to hold an enormous presence over anybody whom he held in council.

  By no means was this because he was an intimidating figure, not by any stretch of the imagination. Far from it in fact.

  Instead, it was simply because he held himself with an almost unworldly aura and presence, something rarely found amongst mankind, and even more rarely found amongst those decent ones among us.

  It was not only that, but also his seemingly inhuman and unfaltering positivity that stood Father Peter aside from the rest. Such qualities, naturally, made him the first port of call for anyone in need that called the village home. The whole of Riverbrook attended his Services, and without fail they always left feeling much more optimistic than when they arrived, and that was all and more that Father Peter could ask for.

  The church itself was a long, tall building, constructed with unimaginably large stone blocks. Set high in the walls with only five or six paces between each of them, were large stained glass windows, each depicting an angel or a demon or some such scene from a moral-strewn tale, each designed to inspire and stir the eye of their beholder in one way or another.

  Light streamed in through the windows in a vast array of stained colours, for it was a glorious Sunday morning outside, and many of the children simply yearned to be running and playing out in the endless fields.

  At one end of the church were the heavy, arch-shaped wooden doors that were the only entrance to the vast building. Set along the floor between that and the altar were rows upon rows of pews, brimming with the people of Riverbrook as they listened eagerly to the Service.

  And then beyond the altar lay a single door that led to Father Peter’s private quarters, for he lived in the church. Beside his quarters were stairs that wound their way up to the spire and the bell tower protruding high into the sky, creating a distinct horizon from afar.

  Hundreds of candles, hanging chandeliers, murals of angels and demons alike again, and great stone carved statues, all decorated the inside of the nave, and at least made the enormous space look more filled and purposeful.

  Below the enormous, golden chandeliers, of all different shapes and sizes and ages and backgrounds, sat the villagers of Riverbrook that lined the pews. They all looked on eagerly at Father Peter as he spoke, totally absorbed by his powerful voice and by his enormous presence: the only one in the village capable of totally filling such a vast room.

  Mostly the audience was made up of families, mothers and fathers with their children, all dressed up in their best frocks and suits for the occasion.

  Dotted here and there were couples without children. Some were elderly who had lived their fair share, and were now enjoying their time as grandparents, whilst others were only young couples or newlyweds, perhaps having moved to Riverbrook to start afresh.

  Such a thing was not uncommon.

  Though nobody had ever really stopped to wonder why, Riverbrook seemed to have that attraction for the young. They often came from far and wide to live here, even if, perhaps, when they originally set off, they didn’t know exactly where they were heading.

  Johnathan Davies sat with his family of four, almost as central as they could possibly have been in the rows of pews. Though slim and slight, he was a tall boy for his tender age of twelve years, and it was obvious he was going to be tall, broad and strong when he became a man, though of course for now he had none of these qualities.

  Johnathan’s dark hair and eyes were most striking however, and certainly distinguishable against the rest.

  His clothes were plain, but smart, and usually saved exclusively for Services. The young boy wore a white shirt and black trousers, both of which were slightly too big for him, but he would grow into them soon enough.

  Johnathan sat beside his father: a tall man with sandy brown hair, much lighter than his son’s, and rich blue eyes. His frame, average in height, was not overly broad, but instead it could be described more accurately as wiry.

  He had the strength of a regular man, but nothing more.

  He wore a suit and tie and black leather shoes, although the shirt was also slightly too big. Unfortunately though, he would never grow into it, for it was made for a broader, taller man.

  Nonetheless though, Johnathan looked up to his father and idolised him.

  And so a boy should do.

  Next along the pew sat Johnathan’s mother. Garbed in her best dress, a lovely, rich blue garment that not only accentuated her petite, yet divine figure, but also matched the colour of her eyes.

  She was nothing short of beautiful.

  A silver chain and small pendant hung about her neck, framed by her long, blonde hair that fell almost haphazardly about her shoulders, though still didn’t look scruffy in any way.

  Johnathan’s parents, Richard and Emily Davies, were well known and liked throughout Riverbrook, and had lived there with their children since Johnathan and Maddie were only babies.

  Maddie was younger than Johnathan, though not really by much, and she sat through the Service on the other side of her parents to her brother.

  Of only nine years of age, almost ten, she was the definition of adorable. Like her mother, Maddie was very intelligent, even for her age, and she was petite too, again taking after her mother.

  And, of course, though her body had not developed in the way her mother’s had yet, that would simply be a matter of time.

  At the moment her blonde hair and blue eyes were sweet and adorable, but given another ten years they would undoubtedly be stunning and elegant and attractive. Certainly, if she followed in her mother’s footsteps at all, which was altogether the most likely outcome, she would most certainly become a little heartbreaker.

  At that present moment in time however, such thoughts were as far from Maddie’s mind as they possibly could have been, for at that tender age they are by no means a priority.

  She leaned forward slightly, stealing a sneaky glance over to her left, past her parents, below their level of eyesight, and pulled a silly face at her brother, as was one of her all-time favourite amusements.

  Johnathan smirked in return but tried to act as if he hadn’
t noticed, partly because he knew his actions were much more obvious that Maddie’s, and he was ‘supposed to know better’, and partly because he knew it drove her crazy.

  After a few more moments however, it all became too much, as Maddie stuck her tongue out at him, and he flared his nostrils and widened his eyes in return, forcing her to stifle a giggle.

  But it was, unfortunately, exactly at that point that their parents broke their gaze and looked down. A single, stern glance from his father stumped Johnathan’s antics, and her mother halted Maddie’s silliness just as effectively, though of course it took them both a few minutes of intense concentration to swallow their own laughter.

  “Thank you, my friends…” Father Peter finally came to conclude his Service then, and a few scuffles and stirrings amongst the pews began, though out of respect no one yet moved.

  Johnathan took the chance to steal yet another glance over at his sister, only to find that her cheeky smirk was already looking his way, forcing him to stifle his laughter once more.

  “It’s been my pleasure as always, please, enjoy the rest of this splendid day…”

  And with that, gesturing openly with his hands and raising his arms slightly, Father Peter released his audience from their captivation, and they immediately broke into courteous applause, though even as they did so they also rose to their feet in swarming droves.

  Some, those who seemed in more of a rush, simply smiled thankfully at Father Peter, and he nodded and smiled back understandingly, as they departed almost immediately.

  Others though, including Johnathan’s mother and father, remained behind to speak with the Vicar personally, and Johnathan watched curiously as Father Peter greeted each and every one of his guests with equal enthusiasm. It seemed to the young boy that this mysterious old man had the most incredible memory, for he knew each person’s name in the village, every family’s address, and all the troubles they were working through, asking about each in turn and always offering his positive words in reply.

  Eventually, a parting in the throngs before them opened and Johnathan’s mother and father moved forward to greet Father Peter. Johnathan and Maddie followed dutifully behind, though for some reason as they pressed onward towards the kind, old man, Johnathan felt somewhat apprehensive.

  “Thank you for all your help, Father.” One man said, shaking the Vicar’s hand enthusiastically.

  Johnathan recognised him as the owner of the village shop, and rumours had spread some time ago, as they always do, about his wife being unable to bear children. Clearly, and unsurprisingly, Father Peter had been very supportive throughout the matter.

  “Not at all, Dorian, not at all.” Father Peter replied smiling. “Please give my best to Amanda.”

  “I will.” Dorian responded, nodding as he did so. “Of course, thank you again.”

  Dorian, the shopkeeper, turned on his heel then and made his way down between the pews, and Father Peter turned to his right to face the Davies family as they approached.

  Of course, he smiled when he saw them, but Johnathan couldn’t help but notice the generous man’s gentle expression change and harden slightly as he laid eyes upon them.

  It may simply have been a trick of the candlelight in the enormous room, but as soon as Johnathan considered that possibility, he dismissed it just as quickly.

  No.

  Something had definitely struck the old Vicar’s mind then, and not something good.

  Whether it was the first time, or whether Johnathan simply hadn’t noticed it before, for it was such a minute and unremarkable change that it was almost impossible to tell, the young boy hadn’t a clue.

  What he did know, however, was that this time at least, it hadn’t simply passed him by, and he noticed Father Peter’s change in emotion and character quite obviously.

  “Emily…Richard…” Father Peter greeted Johnathan’s mother and father expansively, kissing his mother’s cheek and grasping his father’s hand firmly, though it was painfully obvious that Richard’s return handshake was somewhat less robust.

  Emily was about Father Peter’s height, for he was not overly tall, but then Richard didn’t swamp either of them, for his frame was only average.

  The old man looked to Maddie and Johnathan then, finding as always Maddie’s playful character most charming, but seemingly surprised by Johnathan’s wary and inquisitive expression.

  “My, how quickly you two are growing! I can barely keep up!” He said regardless, welcoming them with open arms, though his eyes subtly studied Johnathan’s expression.

  The old Vicar was indeed right, however. Maddie had grown, though she was still not tall for her age, whilst Johnathan, on the other hand, was very tall for only twelve years, and would undoubtedly tower over the lot of them.

  Maddie giggled.

  Johnathan forced a smile.

  Father Peter’s eyes flickered between them for a moment, lingering on Johnathan for just a moment too long, before he turned his gaze briefly back to Emily.

  But it was then, as his gaze fleeted back to Johnathan’s mother, even though it was only for the briefest second, the young boy saw in that moment that they were filled with pain, and something deep inside of the young boy stirred and awakened.

  What he saw and what he felt, he did not know. But even just that confusion and unknowing, told Johnathan that whatever it was he saw and felt, wherever it came from, it was a secret.

  And for good reason.

  “Emily, Richard, I don’t suppose you’d mind if I speak to Johnathan for a moment do you, please?” Father Peter asked then. It was less of a request, Johnathan noticed, and more of a statement, but he awaited their responses nonetheless, patiently and courteously.

  His mother only smiled though, apparently unaware of what had passed between them, and nodded at Johnathan to tell him it was fine. His father looked perhaps a little more perturbed, but he said nothing of it, and Father Peter did not wait for him to speak up, leading Johnathan over to a newly unoccupied pew, just a dozen or so paces across the room.

  Richard glanced at Emily briefly, but she did not return his gaze, and instead looked on almost expectantly after her son.

  She then almost immediately took Maddie’s hand.

  “Come on Maddie.” She encouraged her young daughter, for she too was looking inquisitively after her brother. “Let’s sit down and wait for Johnathan.”

  Curious though she may have been, Maddie simply smiled and nodded, following her mother to the opposite side of the nave. They wove through the still talking and laughing crowds and took a seat in the wooden pews there.

  Wondering what in the world was so important, and apparently so secret too, Johnathan automatically followed Father Peter to the pews and sat down almost robotically beside him, helpless to the old man’s presence.

  Nonetheless though, Johnathan was feeling most deductive and inquisitive, for some strange reason, and he kept his wits about him, not wanting to miss even the slightest glance or change in expression.

  For a moment then, sat sideways on the narrow bench so as to face the young boy, Father Peter just looked at Johnathan, with a mixture of care and deep concern and worry painted across his face all at the same time. Or at least, as far as the boy could tell.

  Young Johnathan was almost coming of that age now where he was no longer a boy, but not quite a man either, and that is always a difficult time, for there is much confusion and disarray. He wasn’t even aware of the struggles he was beginning to face, nor of the new awareness of the world all about that was slowly descending upon him, but nonetheless, it was most certainly happening.

  And so, as they sat there, in complete silence for a few minutes, each one studying the other in the utmost detail, Emily looked on expectantly from across the room.

  Exactly what she was looking for, her husband could not decipher, and Maddie too watched with curiosity and confusion painted across her face. Her mother seemed not in the least bit concerned that Father Peter and Johnathan hadn�
��t yet spoken.

  It all seemed most peculiar to little Maddie.

  Everyone else gave the pair sat in silence a wide and respectful birth. It was as if they knew that this particular conversation, though it hadn’t yet even begun, was the most important of them all in the room at that precise moment in time.

  Regardless though, Johnathan ignored all of it, blocking out everything that was happening around him, and simply stared back at Father Peter, trying desperately to decipher what the old man might be thinking.

  Eventually Father Peter seemed to relent his search, though Johnathan still had no idea what he’d been looking for, and sat back slightly, exhaling deeply as he did so.

  “How are you, Johnathan?” The Vicar asked then, his voice sincere, but at the same time perfectly level, as if the balance of the world hung on Johnathan’s reply.

  “I’m very well thank you Father.” The young boy answered politely. “How are you?”

  Father Peter smiled kindly then, though he seemed to be smiling through some kind of adversity that Johnathan simply could not place.

  His features finally softened and he spoke again.

  “I am very well thank you my boy. And how is school? I’ve heard that Maddie has moved up into your class? Are you helping to look after your sister?”

  By this point, as the Vicar’s words reached his ears, Johnathan finally realised that he would not discover the meaning of this conversation today, and eased his searching slightly, though admittedly with faint disappointment.

  Curiosity not satisfied is often bitter.

  “It’s very important, especially now that you’re becoming a man…” Father Peter noted.

  “Yes Father.” Johnathan responded. “I always do my best to care for her. She’s very important to me.” The young boy’s words were years beyond him it seemed, but Father Peter seemed not to notice, and was satisfied with Johnathan’s honesty.