Clerical

Chapter Seven

Several hours have passed since Barry's throat-punch activated journey, and with the passing of time comes the peak of the nights darkness.

The faint glow of the high moon gives a minute radiance of light to the otherwise shadowy alleyway. There's enough darkness to conceal the residents of this place, but enough light to spot the glimmer of a used needle before sitting down to rest.

One such man resting, albeit unintendedly, is Barry. He lays flat out on his back, right where Gabriel left him after helping him ascend. He is not alone, however, as a shaggy bearded and slightly rotund man in ragged clothes stands over him. The man gently kicks Barry in the ribs.

Barry comes to life with a huge gulp of air, and jots to a sitting up position. He looks around his surroundings for clues, as he's not quite remembering where he is or why he's on the floor.

It takes him a brief moment to spot the gentleman jabbing him with his feet, but when he finally does he shuffles back in a little moment of apprehension. The man stares at Barry with wide eyes.

"Alright?" Barry asks carefully.

The man splutters back something completely incomprehensible to any human on earth. The only word he can make out is "Shoes".

"Uh, yeah." Barry jumps to his feet.

He dusts himself off while remaining conscious of the fact the man who speaks alien to him is staring.

The man mutters something about shoes again.

"Yeah, I'm not interested, mate. Sorry. I might have some money, hang on." Barry taps his back pocket. Oh, that's right. He thinks as he remembers his wallet is sitting in a hospital incinerator.

"I'll see you later then."

Barry turns to walk away from the man with the aim to get out of this alley as soon as humanly possible. His walk is short lived however, as the unmistakable sound of a switchblade being flicked open stops him dead. He groans at his misfortune and turns back around.

"You want my shoes, yeah?"

The man nods.

For f***s sake.

*****

Penniless, shoeless, and rocking a seriously bad headache; Barry makes his way back to his flat door. His hair is a mess, his clothes are dirty, and he looks like a man who's had a bad day on the stock markets. He lowers his head and sighs, annoyed at the fact he's having to go though with all this heavenly jazz. He checks his pockets for his key. It's not there. Luckily, because of his bi-weekly extreme bender, he knows to keep a spare key under the mat, and so reaches down and grabs the key.

Upon opening his door and walking inside, he is greeted by the sight of Gabriel sitting on his sofa, watching TV with a bowl of crisps.

"Ey up buddy. Good timing, Mock the Weeks just started."

Barry slams the door angrily behind him.

"You've got some bloody nerve, leaving me in that s**t-hole alleyway." Barry says through gritted teeth. "What the s**t was all that about?"

Gabriel shrugs his shoulders.

"It was cold." Gabriel notices Barry's feet. "Where are you shoes?"

"A homeless man nicked them at knife point." Barry says as he walks into the kitchen.

He moves straight towards the fridge; his every move is bold and aggressive as he violently opens the door. He grabs what's left of a bottle of milk and downs the lot in a manner befitting someone lost in the desert.

Gabriel switches off the TV and puts the bowl of crisps on the table.

"So, how was it?" He asks.

Barry gags as he uses his alley-juice-soaked sleeve to wipe his mouth. He doesn't make eye contact with Gabriel and goes fishing in his fridge for something more.

"You were there, you tell me how it was." Barry exclaims mockingly.

Gabriel laughs.

"No, no, no. It's more of a simulation than anything, I was there in spirit. We were merging souls, Barry, you got a little taste of what we angels go through before we ascend."

"If that's the case, then I feel f*****g terrible for your existence, because that was awful."

"Did you do the doors?" Gabriel frowns.

"Yeah, they were horrible."

"I remember the doors, nasty stuff on that right-hand side. Lots of clowns on my side." Gabriel slaps his knees and jumps to his feet. "The good news though, is that it's all done and dusted now, so you can relax."

Barry pulls a beer out of his fridge and opens it by hitting it on his kitchen worktop. He downs most of it in one shot.

"There was a lot worse than circus clowns on mine I'll tell you that. What did that even accomplish?" Barry asks.

"Well, the idea behind it is that you see that there's doors open to us, some good, some bad. It's up to us to choose which ones we open." Gabriel pauses for a response.

Barry stares stony faced at Gabriel.

Gabriel breaks his silence and bursts into laughter.

"Oh, come on now. It's all bollocks I know, but it's just the way it is. What we've accomplished is the fusing of souls together. This means that I'm going to get advanced warning of all attacks planned against you, so we can ensure that you carry out everything you need to do before the countdown timer expires and what not."

"Fine. So now what? We go out and do good deeds? Because I'm not sitting in the pissing rain holding up charity boxes or any s**t like that."

Gabriel moves towards Barry. He grabs the beer from his hand and pours it down the sink. Barry gets visibly angry at that.

"Oi!" He shouts.

"First of all, none of the old booze. You've got to be clean for the next few days. What we're about to do is a crash course in becoming a man of god. Clean living, kind deeds, and as many points as we can possibly fit into your remaining time."

Gabriel throws the beer bottle into the kitchen bin.

"Grab a few hours of rest, then get some shoes and a coat."

"What? Why? Where are we going?"

Gabriel smiles at Barry.

"Church."

*****

An hour away from Barry's abode is a huge convention centre. Big, outdated, but impressive. Usually reserved for business and comic conventions, today it takes on a different role with a much different crowd.

Barry walks with Gabriel close to the convention centre's entrance. There are masses of people of all shapes, creeds, and colours walking around; it's somewhere Barry would normally avoid at all costs, because even for London's standards, this place is busy.

He groans and grumbles as they make their way through the crowds towards the private security guarded doors.

Barry is not pleased. "What on earth did you bring me too?" He shouts to Gabriel.

"You'll see."

As they get closer to the entrance, Barry's eyes are drawn towards a giant billboard advertisement above the doors of the building: A humongous photo of a short-haired, well-dressed man with "Daniel Bakker: Mr Miracle." Written above him. Crucifixes straddle the sides of the poster, and Mr Bakkers' pearly white teeth are almost blinding to the eyes.

"You are having a laugh, right? I'm not going in there." Barry chuckles.

Gabriel peers over the crowd as Barry speaks, the line appears to have stopped.

"You need to learn some faith. Nobody has as much faith as this herd of sheep." Gabriel reaches back and excitedly taps Barry on the shoulder. "Oh, watch, watch. Here he comes."

"See what? I can't see jack shit."

The crowd goes ballistic with screaming and shouting. People jump up and down with giddy excitement, throwing their hands in the air. Some praise the lord that their saviour has arrived, as Barry finally spots what the commotion is about.

Mr Miracle has pulled up in his flashy black limousine.

Stretching to watch, he can spot Bakker's security create a swift perimeter, and open the car door to allow him out. The crowd goes even more wild at the prospect of seeing this man in the flesh.

Barry can hardly believe it; John Lennon didn't even get this type of reception, and he was "Bigger than Jesus.".

Bakker waves to his fans and even blesses a few as he walks down past the bulging barriers protecting him from the public. Eventually he is whisked away inside the venue, safe at last from the One Direction style welcome he received.

The crowd starts to calm down, and Gabriel turns to Barry.

"Come on, lets get in there before it gets too mental."

*****

The interior of the exhibition hall is as audacious as it is impressive. A massive stage is set up at the front of the hall with an ambitiously large video screen behind it. The hall itself is packed to the rafters with a sea of chairs; the seats which are unoccupied will no doubt be quickly taken by the equally impressive line of people funnelling into the hall.

What strikes Barry as he walks in is not only the fact he's close to being crushed to death, it's also the sheer amount of people who have turned up for this nonsense. He never thought these sorts of faith healing shows actually existed in the real world, and yet here one is right on his doorstep.

He never really comes this far out of his way for any good reason anyway, so the fact he's never wandered past this before doesn't really come as a shock.

The pair squeeze their way past the excited patrons of the event and into a couple of free chairs near the back of the hall.

"It's busier than the Marathon in here. What's the big deal?" Barry asks.

"The marathon doesn't cure cancer, Barry." Gabriel says with a condescending tone.

"I dunno, those fellas running in cow outfits can raise a fair chunk of wonga." Barry takes a breath and squints his eyes. "We can't see s**t back here. It's all gonna be a blur."

Suddenly, the lights in the hall dim as the stage lights kick into action and illuminate the stage with a vivid white/blue hue.

Smoke machines create a mysterious low fog that slowly penetrates upwards. It's all very showbusiness in its delivery.

Loud rock music blasts out from the main stage and the crowd starts to cheer. As the music reaches a key change the big tv screen comes on, and with an entrance fit for a pop sensation out comes Mr Miracle himself.

The crowd goes absolutely berserk. People rise to their feet and cheer their preacher, and he dutifully waves back. All of this, of course, is being shown in tandem on the big screen at the rear of the stage.

"Oh good, he's 30 ft taller now." Barry laments at the top of his lungs.

Mr Bakker soaks in his welcome from the crowd a little bit more before. Like any good showman, he's wearing a headset mic, and his suit his one of the finest Barry has ever seen. The man looks the business.

The crowd settles down, but sensing an opportunity, Bakker throws his hands in the air.

"Are you all ready to feel the love of GOD!" Bakker screams passionately in his rich South African accent.

The crowd goes mental again. So much so that Barry takes an elbow to the chest. He covers his ears from the intensity of the crowd's howl.

"Jesus. Jesus. He loves each one of you here tonight. And tonight, he is going to SAVE you. All of you. So let's get this show on the road. Start the engines of Christ and wheel out the locomotive of the LORD!"

Music starts blaring again, but this time a gospel choir sings at the top of their lungs while walking to join Bakker on stage. He happily dances and claps along with them, and much to Barry's dismay, so does the entirety of the crowd.

"Brace yourself, mate, it's going to get worse." Gabriel smirks.