Chapter 2: Blessed Are Those Who Have Not Seen But Believed…
Senior Server Felix stood at the front of the church, his voice steady and solemn as he greeted the congregation. "Our help is in the name of the Lord," he intoned.
"Who made Heaven and Earth," the people responded in unison, their voices matching his reverent tone.
"Today, we initiate new members into this divine and holy Order," Felix continued. "Today, we welcome new brethren into the bosom of our Lord Jesus Christ."
At the back of the church, Louis sat on one of the few single chairs, his posture slightly slouched as his focus remained on a sheet of music in his hands. The title read, "Brightest and Best – Key of A-flat."
Why didn't Gramps give me an F or G? A-flat is so difficult, and I only have three days to finish it, he grumbled silently, his brow furrowing in frustration. But he dared not voice his complaints. He could already imagine his grandfather assigning him even more difficult pieces—F-sharps and endless A-flats—as punishment.
From the front of the church, a serene voice called out, "Harry! Step forward!"
Louis glanced up, momentarily pulled from his inner musings. His eyes landed on a girl stepping forward from the pews. She had black hair neatly styled in a bun and striking green eyes that seemed to shine with warmth and composure. Dressed in a modest brown dress and black sandals, with a rosary resting gracefully around her neck, she exuded a calm, dignified presence. Her tanned skin and graceful demeanor only added to the aura of reverence surrounding her, befitting an Altar server.
Sigh, Louis thought as he brushed a hand through his white hair, his blue eyes softening with a mix of admiration and envy. I wonder what it's like to be an Altar server. They all seem so pure and divine… and powerful.
Just as he returned his attention to his music, a calm, gentlemanly voice spoke beside him. "You could also be an Altar server if you're interested."
"Huh?" Louis blurted out, snapping his head to the side. But no one was there.
"What in the name of Jesus is going on here?" he muttered, glancing nervously around.
"At least you know my name," the voice replied again, seemingly amused.
"What?" Louis whispered, his heart beginning to race.
"I'm certain you will be a good server," the voice said, calm yet enigmatic.
Louis narrowed his eyes, still searching for its source. "Who are you?"
"I have many personalities. I have many names," the voice replied with an air of mystery. "It's your choice which one you accept."
"You're not making any sense," Louis muttered, growing more unsettled.
"Blessed are those who have not seen but believed…"
Before Louis could respond, his vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to melt away.
He jolted awake, gasping for air. His hands clutched the crumpled sheet of music, its corners bent from his restless grip. His head teetered precariously over the edge of his bed, a faint ache in his neck reminding him of the awkward position he'd been in.
"Holy Mother of Jesus!" he exclaimed as he lost his balance, tumbling off the bed in a heap of blankets and scattered papers.
For a moment, he lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, his heart pounding. "What… was that?" he whispered to himself, his mind racing to piece together the strange dream—or was it something more?
"An Altar server?" Louis muttered to himself as he sat up, brushing off the blankets tangled around him. "Strange… but it does sound interesting, I must say."
"Louis! Is everything okay in there? I heard you screaming," a soft, motherly voice called from behind his door.
Louis scrambled to his feet, smoothing out the crumpled music sheet in his hands. "I'm fine, Grandma! I just tripped," he replied, trying to sound as casual as possible.
"Are you sure?" His grandma's voice came again, laced with concern.
"Leave the kid alone, Jane," another voice interjected, this one deeper and booming with good humor. "I'm sure he's fine. He's strong, you know—got my genes and all that!" The sound of hearty laughter followed.
Louis rolled his eyes, unable to suppress a small grin as he imagined his grandfather puffing out his chest in mock pride.
"We are all aware, O great and mighty Abraham," his grandmother quipped, her tone dry but affectionate.
"I'm not Abraham! I'm Vitus!" his grandfather bellowed, his laughter ringing out again.
Louis shook his head, a chuckle escaping his lips. "Just another morning in the Paulissen household," he muttered to himself, shoving the music sheet onto his desk before heading toward the door.
...
"How's your project coming along, Louis?" Grandpa Vitus asked as they all sat down for breakfast. The dining table was packed with energy and chatter, hosting everyone in the household: the two grandparents, Louis, his cousins, and one of his friends. Their parents were off on wedding anniversaries, tours, or something equally exciting. Meanwhile, the children were on vacation, which explained why they'd all gathered at their grandparents' home. In total, there were 12 people crammed around the table, each with their plates piled high with Grandma Jane's famous pancakes and bacon.
"Do I really have to finish it?" Louis asked, his blue eyes wide with exaggerated innocence, his expression almost comically childlike—not exactly fitting for a 17-year-old.
Grandpa Vitus smirked, unfazed. "You'll play it on Christmas Eve at church."
"Eh?" Louis blinked, nearly choking on his orange juice.
"Vitus, let the boy rest a bit," Grandma Jane interjected, her warm voice carrying just the right amount of reprimand. "He's been glued to that organ all week."
Grandpa Vitus raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay! I hear you. You can have the day off, Louis."
"Thanks, Grandma!" Louis beamed, visibly relieved.
"Anything for you, my child," Grandma Jane replied with a soft smile, her gaze filled with the kind of affection only a grandmother could muster.
"Tch! Lucky kid," Grandpa Vitus muttered under his breath, shaking his head as he reached for his coffee. "Next time, it's going to be an F-sharp."
Louis froze, his fork halfway to his mouth, and stared at his grandfather in mock horror. "You wouldn't!"
Grandpa Vitus's sly grin was all the confirmation Louis needed.