The Conversation

Trapped inside a country marketing its own religion, Tommy O’Boy stared into his golden spirit chalice covered with a sudsy topping. Peering intently, the only television broadcast network, showcased a match, featuring four-leaf clover logos and emerald, green uniforms.

“C’mon boys,” he shouted towards his national pride sporting business franchise, “let’s get a goal we may actually win one.”

Before his lips returned to the brew, something happened and the pub’s public service viewing outlet caught the action, “No, no,” Tommy O’Boy pleaded and for a split-instant relief came, seeing the ball, kick to safety, “that was close,” he exclaimed, “no, no he didn’t.”

“Well, my son,” a patron sitting next to him acknowledged, it looks like your kind made a mistake and tomorrow will, how do you say? Go to confession.”

Sitting back Tommy O’Boy observed the penalty shot converted by the other team leaving the Irishman shrugging off defeat, still believing that after horrendous weather conditions, a rainbow will appear, filled with good fortune.

Throwing down a couple dollars, Tommy O’Boy separated himself from the afternoon weekend escape departing the premises through the main door, mumbling a well-known biblical leader’s name in vain. Upcoming sunsetting preparations confronted the maturing youth, adjusting his fashionable jacket, spotting a blonde-haired lady, independently scaling small cement stairs, going somewhere special.

Suddenly, getting an investigation urge, Tommy O’Boy quickly crossed the street passing a sign saying, “No Vigil Mass Tonight”. Ignoring the message, making the commitment, following the luring tease, who entered the spiritual building. Once finding sanctuary, artistic sculptures including a rebellious story timeline, telling the final living moments of a self-proclaimed King greeted Tommy O’Boy, providing him understanding comfort.

“Where did she go?” The young boy yearning rich reward after a devastating loss paused, embracing the wondering moment. Deciding the expedition ended up, just like the game, a failure, Tommy O’Boy ventured back outdoors when a mysterious voice questioned, “where are you going?”

Turning around Tommy O’Boy could not pin point where the inquiry originated, “leaving so soon, why don’t you sit down? Let’s chat,”

Still confused Tommy O’Boy naturally accepted the invitation, discovering an empty pew, “no need to kneel my son, just relax.”

Heeding the suggestion, the confused soul entertained the advice, “tell me my son, what is bothering you?”

Tommy O’Boy reflected as the starring tragic flaw right in front of him, nailed to a cross, wearing a crown made from thorns, listened.

“How come when I am about to win something happens?” Tommy O’Boy asked, “I never get handed champion hardware decorations.”

“Sometimes my boy, inclement weather can bring great wealth, when Mother Nature’s emotional outburst completes its rage,” the voice summarized when thunder, lightening and rain showers all made an agreeing comment at the same time, “why don’t you take a few minutes, collect your thoughts, there is no rush to go anywhere. Mother nature’s attitude is nasty, right now.”

Tommy O’Boy spent the next hour thinking about many different things until the heavens stopped crying, acting like a growing spoiled rotten juvenile.

Leaving the cathedral’s peaceful message Tommy O’Boy, noticed sparkling water droplets, spreading across parking lot asphalt along with a colorful arc displayed in the distance, “well I am supposed to find my treasure now.”

Sticking his hands in pockets Tommy O’Boy accepted being a pedestrian discovering and occupying dry patio furniture waiting residency. Tommy O’Boy waited and soon the same blonde-haired girl from earlier appeared, “can I get you anything? Dessert? Or tea?”

“What I truly need,” Tommy O’Boy honestly expressed, “is a nice conversation.”

“Can you wait a second?” She requested, “I will be right back.”

Returning the kind gesture individual, held a kettle and two saffron icing frosted cake temptations, “I hear this all goes well when someone has positive dialogue.”

“I believe you to be correct,” the faithful customer confirmed as evening arrived, providing a post card finale, Tommy O’Boy earned his victory status, bringing home a sweet life long-friend who always hears what is said.