Bring up the bucket (I.P.)

Mary McGinty spotted the priest, when he was about six feet from the cottage door. She took two steps to the right, turned, retraced those, adding two more, to the left, carried out a pirouette, which Rudolph Nureyev would have envied and was about to follow up with a rather adventurous leap for the scullery, when she heard the knock and shouted greeting…

“Hello the house…”

Mary stood stock still, barely breathing. ‘If I’m quiet, she thought, he may go away.’

“Anybody home?” he called, rapping vigorously on the heavy brass knocker.

She barely resisted shouting ‘No!’

She heard a familiar squeak and nearly fainted, as she noticed the letterbox flap open toward her.
‘Jayzus, she thought, what kind of a priest peeps in the fucking letterbox; that had to be SOME kind of a sin…didn’t it?’
No prying eyes appeared but a holy picture fell to the mat, with a scribbled note on the back. It looked like a picture of Saint Jude, the patron saint of lost causes…she hoped it was a random pick.

Father Murphy had just turned to walk back toward the gate, when her father’s voice echoed through the house…

“Mary, bring up the bucket.’

‘Fuck!’ Mary hissed, through gritted teeth as she watched the priest stop, turn and look up at the bedroom window. Mary ran to the door and pulling it open, called out, ‘Father Murphy…oh thank goodness, I thought I might have missed you…phew!’

“Hello Mary, not at all, not at all…I was just on my rounds, visiting the sick and bringing what comfort I can; you know how it is.”

“Ah, sure it’s God’s work you’re doing Father” she replied, wondering how someone, who wasn’t feeling the best, would get the impression that things were on the up, upon seeing a priest come visit them. The only visitor possibly less likely to bring comfort to her, if she were sick, would be the undertaker, however….

“How’s himself Mary, I heard he was confined to the bed?”

“He is Father, but sure it’s only temporary – the doctor says he should be up and about in no time and…..

“Mary, bring up the bucket.”

…I’ll be up in a minute Dad. You’ll have a cup of tea Father?”

“I won’t Mary, I know that you’re far too busy…and I have a few to visit yet. Did you hear that poor old Molly Gibbons is to be shortly on her way?”

“Where is she off to Father?”

“Well, Heaven…at least one would hope”

“She’s dying?”

“I believe it’s a prerequisite.”

“Gosh, I didn’t hear…I’ve been kind of tied up lately, what with dad the way he is.”

“Of course…maybe someone could look after your father, for a short while…I’m sure you’ll want to pop in and see her…”

“Mary, bring up the bucket.”

“Hold your whist dad, I’ll be up in a minute…err, yes indeed I do Father” I want to see the bitch alright, she thought. I want to get back my good saucepan and set of crystal candle holders, that the wagon borrowed from me nearly eighteen months ago; if she pops her clogs, I’ll never see them again.

“I could stay with your father for a while, if you’d like, maybe hear his confession, give him the blessing for the sick and have a chat with him – just keep him occupied for a while?”

“NO! I mean err, no… not at all Father. I’ll be giving him his wash and a bite to eat shortly and ….well; he’s one of the old school; very religious, set in his ways. He’d want to be cleaned up and made presentable for you; very fussy about his cleanliness, is dad. I know it sounds silly but you know how they are?”

“Indeed and I do Mary and it’s a good thing! I wish the young people had half the respect for the church and a fraction of the faith. Alas, it’s not like it used to be and that’s a fact. People like your father, are few and far between but it’s good to know, that the old values are alive and well. I tell you Mary; it’s not in every house that I receive a welcome

“Mary, bring up the bucket.”

Have patience dad; Father Murphy is here and he….”

“Fuck Father Murphy, the hypocritical old bollocks. Tell the bastard, I’m not dead yet, I’ve no money and there are no altar boys here, so he’s wasting his time!

Now bring up the bucket…before I shit in the bed!”