The Body Under the Bridge

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The Body Under the Bridge Page 32

by Paul McCuster


  “Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may go into them and give thanks unto the Lord,” the Bishop read.

  Father Gilbert opened the door to the crypt.

  The Bishop moved into the entrance and proclaimed:

  “Peace be to this place where the bodies of thy people may rest in peace and be preserved from all indignities, whilst their souls are safely kept in the hands of their faithful Creator. Peace be to this place from God’s Son who is our Peace and from the Holy Ghost, the Comforter.”

  He lifted his arms and staff, looking like Moses before the Red Sea. “Let us faithfully and devoutly beg God’s blessing on this our undertaking.” He then descended into the crypt.

  One by one, they followed.

  “O Lord, hear our prayer,” he said.

  “And let our cry come unto thee,” they responded.

  Father Gilbert thought about the black mass. Undoing it with the reconsecration filled him with a sense of holy purpose. The dark acts would be dispelled with light.

  Mr Urquhart had rigged extra lighting along the walls, the shadows driven away by a warm glow.

  The Bishop prayed:

  “O Eternal God, mighty in power, of majesty incomprehensible, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain, much less the walls of temples made with hands; vouchsafe, O Lord, to be present with us, who are now gathered together to reconsecrate this place, with all humility and readiness of heart, to the honour of thy great Name; separating it henceforth from all unhallowed, ordinary, and common uses; and dedicating it entirely to thy service.”

  “Amen.”

  The Bishop stepped forward to the centre of the crypt, very close to the altar where David Todd had performed his black mass. No one knew how many others had been conducted there. He took the staff and traced the sign of the Cross upon the floor. Beneath it, he traced the Greek symbols for the Alpha and the Omega. He spoke loudly, as if to make sure that everyone and everything could hear him. “I claim this place for Christ crucified, who is the First and the Last, and the Lord of all!”

  “Amen.”

  “One Lord, one Faith, one Baptism!”

  “One God and Father of all,” they said.

  There was a moment of silence and Father Gilbert strained to listen, sure that the screams of escaping demons would be heard. Instead, the wound at his side burned.

  “And now, by virtue of the sacred office committed to us in the Church, I do declare to be reconsecrated and set apart from all profane and common uses this House of God. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost; as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end.”

  “Amen.”

  “Now unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory, for ever and ever.”

  “Amen.”

  * * *

  That night, the small group celebrated with a bonfire in an open space at the far corner of the graveyard. Those sections of the profaned altar that could be burned went up in bright flames and sparks like fireflies. Later, it was decided, Mr Urquhart would smash the marble from the top and use the pieces as paving stones in the graveyard.

  “I hope this puts an end to it,” Mrs Mayhew said as they walked to their cars.

  Father Gilbert didn’t tell her about the figure in the dark cloak who’d been watching them from the other side of the iron fence.

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