I've been remiss in writing here lately, so I'm giving you a preview chapter of Adelaide II today. Don't get excited. I'm not quite there yet but here is some of what is coming in Adelaide's life as a bishop:
Chapter:
A Day in the Life
The
cacophony outside her office was enough to wake the dead, which is how she felt
this morning. She had been bishop of
Turner City for four weeks now but it felt like a lifetime.
In
the midst of fielding memos from Nessie (“I’m going to work these guys socks
off”) and pleas for financial help from sinking parishes she had a headache
that was daily gathering steam.
Finally
she couldn’t manage the suspense any longer and decided to march into the fray.
Bishop
Cutter, Maria, Malik and Ricardo were all arrayed in front of Emma’s desk and
everyone seemed to be talking at once.
They had no idea that she had emerged from her office and for her part
she had no idea what they were saying everyone was talking so fast and so loud.
Adelaide
drew a deep breath and yelled at the top of her voice:
“The
Lord be with you,” a line guaranteed to silence any group of Episcopalians as
they answer by rote:
“And
also with you.”
“Let
us meet.” The corruption of the reply elicited a snort from Emma.
Grabbing
her cell Adelaide took off down the hallway with the group in tow to what she
believed was a conference room as she listened to Emma padlock the doors behind
them.
“Sit.”
Adelaide directed.
Someone
started to talk.
“Silently.”
Adelaide barked.
The
wall clock ticked loudly.
“Lord
help us to discuss our differences in a civilized manner. Help us to discern each other’s needs and
walk in their shoes. Help us to work for
you in your church keeping in mind all its members. All this we ask in your name. Amen”
“You’re
praying at us,” Bishop Cutter sulked.
“Damn
right,” Adelaide answered.
‘What
was that brouhaha going on out there?”
Silence.
Ricardo
spoke first.
“I
guess we all kinda needed something from Emma at once.”
“Was
that an effective way of getting it?”
A
few nos were proffered.
“Now. One at a time. Ricardo, you first.”
“Part
of the ceiling in the apse just fell in.”
“That’s
Bishop Cutter’s problem. Tell Maria.”
But
she cringed inwardly. As much as she had
learned to delegate at St. Francis, she still hated it. She wanted to jump up, get a ladder and start
repairing the ceiling. And besides there
was a limit to her flipness.
“But
first, tell me about it.”
Ricardo
smiled.
“I
didn’t notice it until Geraldo pointed it out this morning.”
“Geraldo?”
“Yeah,
one of your homies.”
“MY
homies?”
“Yeah,
Rev. LaFonte sent him over to help me with some of the missing lights in the
nave.”
Okay,
so she really didn’t have to delegate.
Everyone had just carried on like they always had at St. Francis,
ignoring her. Only they had picked up numbers
along the way.
“My
homies.”
“Yeah,
you know, the guys from the corner.”
She’d
never known their names. How could she
have done that?
“Geraldo
says they’re part of your protection squad now, whatever that means.”
“Don’t
ask.”
“Understand. Anyway we need someone in here fast to shore
up the ceiling.”
“Bishop
Cutter that’s yours.”
“Got
it.”
“Now,
Bishop Cutter, what’s going on with you?”
“I
can’t find my leather bound Book of Common Prayer.”
Maria
was looking guilty.
“Maria?”
Adelaide was looking at her cautiously.
“Er. I sent it out to be rebound. The pages were falling out.”
Adelaide
bit her lip.
“Howard?”
“Oh,
well, thanks,” there was a sheepish tone there somewhere.
“Emma?”
“Maria
says the Hispanic commission wants the conference room at the same time you
need it for the dean’s meeting.”
Adelaide
sighed.
“The
deans will meet in my office. There are
only six of them.”
“Anything
else?”
Emma
raised her hand.
“Yes,
Emma?”
“Last
I saw Arthur he was roof surfing on Deacon Barbara’s car as it headed out of
the parking lot.”
Howard
bit his lip. Maria suddenly saw
something she had to brush off her shoe. Ricardo turned and faced the nearest
bookcase.
“Okaaaaay,”
Adelaide said, “time to get back to work.
This was a lovely coffee break.
Let’s have more of these but let’s not precede them with mayhem.”
The
conference room disbursed and Adelaide relaxed.
Her cell phone buzzed on the table.
A
text message from Barbara.
“What
do I do with the cat?”
(C) 2014 Christina Wible All rights reserved.
