Sacrilege

If there’s a hell, and I’m undecided on the matter, I know one man who’s sure to go there someday, even if it’s for a brief spell in purgatory. Now, I’m not saying I dislike the bloke, it’s just he happens to be the one man I know who I’ve witnessed commit multiple acts of sacrilege in a period of an hour.

Our heels swinging above the throng, Ty and I watched the throng below us. Ios had taken to the streets on this warm August night, the result of a 2am power outage. The entire town was dark, and this happens to be a town possessing over 100 bars. The outdoor bars were doing a brisk trade. We stayed away from these seas of humanity where the throng was suffocating by hopping onto the roof of a church, 8 ft. above the street. We sipped our drinks, nicked from the bar when the lights went out and watched the spectacle below us. Eventually our friends below us, hollered that they wanted up, so Ty and I scrambled up onto the church and out of the way.

“Mate, I gotta piss,” Ty said under his breath to me. He is an aussie of course, I may have failed to mention this beforehand, but I thought it might have been implied.

“Just take a piss here,” I replied, gesturing over the backside of the church, meaning for Ty to piss over the edge. Well, I blame it on the drink, those teetotalers may have been right in this respect, but Ty’s stream failed to clear the distance. It took me three or four moments before it occurred to me that daft bastard was pissing the roof on a church. Now, that can’t be good, most atheists I think would even agree. I hollered at him to knock it off, but he was well into it and wasn’t about to choke it off. Once he’d organized himself, I voiced my issues with his actions.

“No worries, Mate, Ty replied, in that easy manner Aussies seem to be born with, “What can one do, if you gotta go, you gotta go.” I reflected on the logic of this one and figured, why not, if Peter did man the gate, I’m sure he’d identify with an overfull bladder.

As the rooftop slowly filled with our friends, Ty and I explored the rooftop and the view that it held. Ty nudged me and pointed to the top.

“Aye, let’s have a go at that,” he exclaimed excitedly to me. Again, I cite the enormous amount of alcohol flowing through our veins. I fixed my eyes on the dome of the church and reckoned it wasn’t that difficult. If you’ve seen pictures, or been to Greece, envision one of those small churches with a dome on top. The curved sides seemed easier than the steeples I knew from home.

“All right, let’s try it,” I replied, and we, moved towards the top, preparing out assent. Getting our footing right, we pulled ourselves up to the base of the dome and then looked for our next footing. This proved more difficult than it looked from afar, but Ty, the best of the lot, managed to get some leverage and heaved his hulking frame upwards. Unbalanced, but nearly to the apex, Ty saw victory in sight as he wobbled above Ios’ masses. His arms waving, he caught hold of something to steady his balance, lest he topple off sideways.

Reflect for a moment on what one might grab hold of that might be on top of a church; the only thing that one can grab hold of on the top of a church. Ty’s hand closed around the iron cross fixed atop the dome, and he steadied himself.

“Just one final step,” he called back to me, and I watched as his arm tensed and he attempted to pull himself up the final meter.

With a arresting sound, the cross broke free in Ty’s hand, and once more he was unbalanced upon the church. He lowered himself and steadied, then turned to me.

“Here, hold this a sec then, Mate,”

“Fuck off,” I replied indignantly, as Ty tried to pass me the buck, my profanity being the least of the problems at this point. Ty lunged back up to the apex and attempted to rectify his err, and thrust his broken piece back onto the crucifix. He managed to right it, albeit with a bit of a tilt, and then slid back down to me.

“Well enough of that, then, eh?” Ty muttered to me, as I looked at him for sure, as I stared speechless. Coupling this last act with the pissing err of before, I realized I’d watched this goof from Melbourne pretty much fling himself into the fires of below.

Now, either of his actions taken alone might hold up in a court of appeal, but together… I shook realizing my poor friend was damned, maybe not for all time, but a few years over the red hot coals were certainly in order. I looked back at Ty, he mustered an Aussie grins and we sealed the occasion with a toasting of glasses and a swallow of the last of our drinks.


In reminiscing on this tale, I’ve felt it necessary to put on some hard rock from Down Under. So I leave you with this thought, as I end my tale.

“Going Down! Party Time! And my Friends are going to be there too…”