Works and Days

The Second Coming of Ann Ford

4

“Hannah Decker opened the front door and looked sideways at Ann.

“Why dontcha come on in, Ann?” she said. “It’s so cold. What’s up?”

Ann Ford was looking ridiculous in a purple pom pom hat and carrying a notebook her cross eyes were staring at. She laughed, snorted a little, and said:

“No, I’m just here for a second. I’m taking a poll.”

“Okay.”

“You know the new priest?”

“Father Bobby!” said Hannah. “Oh, my God he’s so great. And if he smiled in the middle of the night it would make the sun rise. He is so hot! If he wasn’t a priest the things I would do to that man—”

“Ey, Hannah!”

She shushed up and turned to see Will was at the door, face perplexed, belly sticking out.

“Oh, but you know he’s nothing compared to my baby,” she patted her husband’s face. “There’s my daddy bear. Growl for me! Come on now.”

Will looked at Ann Ford, then at his wife. He growled, bit her, and went back into the house.

“Mama’s gonna tame you in a few minutes,” she laughed back, confiding in Ann, “Honey you’d never believe it, but he’s a hurricane in the sheets. It’s like going to Disneyland. Space Mountain!”

Hannah blushed, remembered herself, and said, “We were talking about the new priest.”

“Actually,” said Ann, “we were talking about my brother.”

“Oh.”

 There was a vague look on Hannah’s face, as if she’d forgotten who Ann Ford’s brother was. Then she said. “All right, honey, what did you want to say?”

“He wanted—I wanted to know... what you thought of him.”

“I suppose he’s good enough. Think of him how?”

“As a priest? Is he a good priest?”

“He’s no Father Bob—hold on, I didn’t mean it that way.” Hannah stopped, folded her arms over her breasts and said, “Some people are flashy and wonderful and stir up big crowds. Some aren’t. Same with priests, I guess. Geoff just isn’t flashy. But he’s a good enough priest... I suppose.”

 

“It’s open!” Patti shouted, expecting her next client as she stopped in the middle of hanging the green boughs around the living room.

“Ann?” she looked incredibly perplexed to see the unattractive little woman in the middle of her living room.

“Hi, Patti! Good morning!”

“Ann!”

Smile plastered to her face, Patricia Lewis climbed down from the ladder and said, “Can I help you?”

“Why yes, I’m taking a poll.”

Patti, eyebrow raised, waited for further explanation.

“You see, Geoff—my brother...”

“Father Ford?”

“Yes. He wants to know how he’s doing. What you all think of him?”

“Is this about the new priest and everything?” Patti murmured.

“Were you at the mass the other day?”

“No.”

“Busy doing things?”

“There was this delightful pack of Benson and Hedges I needed to finish. He shouldn’t have called on such short notice. Anyway?”

“Geoff wants to know... If people like him? How people feel about him.”

Patti eyed Ann incredulously.

“You mean to tell me Geoff Ford is having a popularity contest?”

“I wouldn’t call it that...”

“Then I don’t know what you would call it, but... You tell your brother he’s just a priest to me and—God forgive me—in the last thirty-eight years, to me a priest has always pretty much been a priest. He’s a lot better than some and certainly no worse than all the rest.”

    

That evening Geoff didn’t ask Ann anything about her poll, which largely resulted in the whole parish saying either, “We’re indifferent to Geoff Ford,” or “The new priest is really great, but we’re indifferent to Geoff Ford.” Ann kept on pushing Bobby to say more, spend as much time as possible with Geoff so that her brother would not be able to find the time to ask what she had learned. It depressed Ann, and for once her food was good. She thought maybe she should be depressed more often. This reflected badly on what the parish thought of her brother, and made Ann wonder what they thought of her.

As the mashed potatoes were coming to an end, she was inspired. Ann realized that there would be one home from which good comment would come, and good council, a house always brimming with laughter and a solution to depression.

She still had not polled Chayne Kandzierski.

 

Ann did not knock because she knew there was no need. There was no noise coming from inside the house, but the lights from the windows seemed to tell of cheeriness. No one was in the living room, but Chayne and Russell, Jackie, Felice, Diggs and Jewell and Shannon were chatting softly in the kitchen while Ted, his long legs in front of him as he leaned back in a chair, was playing the guitar. The other night after Ted had made Chayne sing, and Chayne had promised, “You’ll pay for this,” Ted had said, sounding far more forward than she remembered him, “And how are you going to make me pay?”

“You’ll see,” Chayne said.

Nut now they all looked up at her in amazement and Chayne said, “Ann?”

“I’m taking a poll—” she started, but Jackie, gushing smoke out of her mouth said:

“Patti told me about it today.”

“Poll?” Chayne had not heard of this.

“It’s like,” Ann started and was at a lack of words. She looked to Jackie.

“It’s a popularity poll,” Jackie said.

“My God!” muttered Chayne. “Because of the new priest?”    Ann, embarrassed, nodded.

“He’s really good,” started the shaggy headed Diggs, and then he humphed because Chayne had kicked him under the table, and amended, “but he’s no match for our Geoffy.”

“Chayne,” said Ann. “Could I talk to you for a moment...? Privately?”

Chayne nodded, then got up, rounded the table and came to Ann who still stood at the entrance to the kitchen. They went into the living room.

“Have you met the new priest?” she asked him in a small voice.

“Is he... a jerk?” Ted asked, leaning over his guitar.

“He’s the nicest person on earth. He prays beautifully. He’s starting a basketball team for youth outreach. He gets up before dawn to pray and runs eight miles. He speaks fluent Latin, was top of his class in seminary, went to Holy Cross in Massachusetts and won the Homecoming and Prom King Crowns back in high school, not to mention he was class president every year and he’s very tall, very energetic and extremely good looking. He’s been here two days and the parish office is already three times as efficient as it used to be. He’s memorized half the congregation’s names and everybody loves him.”

“Bastard,” Chayne swore in earnest, shaking his head for Geoff Ford.

“I wish you would talk to Geoff.”

“What? How did it get from the new priest is wonderful to Chayne Kandzierski should talk to Geoff?”

“I think he’d listen to you?”

“Really? Well, that’s a shame because I try not to talk to priests... There’s something unnatural about them.”

Ted sniggered and covered it up by pretending to sneeze.

“But you knew Geoff before he was a priest. Remember back in college?”

“And he was unnatural then! Unnatural boys become unnatural men. Unnatural Catholic boys that can’t get dates on Friday night and have something to prove to the world become priests.”

“Oh, Chayne!”

“Oh, Ann, please don’t make me have a heart to heart with your brother.”

Ann cocked her head and gave what, on an attractive person might have been called puppy dog eyes, but on Ann was considered a valiant attempt at manipulation. Chayne had to admire it.

“You’re going to make me have a heart to heart with Geoff,” he concluded sadly. “I think I would rather castrate myself with a plastic spoon from Dairy Queen.”

“Oh, thank you, Chayne,” Ann threw her arms around Chayne, who couldn’t help but notice how musty she smelled. “And I have another favor?” she whispered as he set her down.

“No!”

“Chayne. I’m feeling bold tonight. I asked one, I might as well ask for something else?”

“I’m a genie now?”

Ann didn’t answer that. She just gestured into the kitchen and said, longingly, “I think he’s so cute, Chayne.”

Since there were seven people in the kitchen, four of them women, one of them Ted and another Russell, he assumed Ann was looking at his hamster faced, disheveled haired friend.

“Diggs?”

Ann nodded, smiling widely and blushing so that Chayne thought she was almost cute.

“Do you think you could talk to him for me?”

Chayne looked blankly at Ann.

“Just....” said Ann. “Think about it. For me?”