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St. Teresa’s Church was not cavernous, nor did it possess any grand scheme or ornate rococo splendor to spoil the simple representation of mid-western American values. The wooden pews smelled of Murphy's oil and that unmistakable blend of trapped odors prevalent in many older churches. The stained glass windows were nondescript and the wooden confessionals understated, as was the custom in most older churches, so as not to stand out or call attention to themselves. The floor creaked a little as Manny made his way to the front. He bowed in respect and made the Sign of The Cross as he kneeled before the altar rail, the symbol of pre-Vatican II Catholicism which had vanished around 1963, when the Church made sweeping changes in her attempts to modernize. Manny felt the softness of the padded kneeler, and smiled to himself, remembering how his knees would hurt after Mass. His prayers started out as they normally did, asking for God's forgiveness of his sins, thanking Him for his Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, praying for the souls of all the saints, his departed friends and relatives, and finally the general intercessions of humanity as a whole. Then, he asked God to please reveal to him why he was seeing the spirits, or images, or whatever they were. It was then that he looked up to the crucifix and saw Harold's face, looking down at him.
Harold stepped down from the crucifix and walked across the altar slowly, the wound in his side still showing vestiges of blood. His arms extended to Manny, he said in his soft voice, "Come with me, my child, I have come to take you home." Manny felt frozen in time, his vision locked onto the manifestation of Christ which he had always seen in his mind. His long flowing hair and olive complexion were almost too beautiful to believe, and those eyes! His eyes encompassed all the splendor Manny had ever envisioned, they were the personification of Holiness!
Manny reached out his hand, gratefully and submissively to touch his Savior. It was then that he heard the shot from behind him. Harold’s body jumped backward, falling into a heap across the altar table. Manny stared in horror before turning to the back of the church. There, he saw Michael Black standing in the doorway, holding the rifle. Manny screamed, "NOOOOOOOOO!" his face contorted in anger, and ran toward the marshal; it was precisely then he felt the pain in his chest, and everything went black.
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