Cathy gets lost and finds something....read on.

Easy As Falling Off A Bike.
by wassername.
part: "I am not a number I am a free man." (The Prisoner)

I felt like someone had boiled me and put me through a mangle. I'd seen one in a museum once, big rollers that women used to squeeze the water out of their washing. We saw it at the Welsh National Folk Museum at St Fagans near Cardiff, on a school trip. I wasn't sorry that I didn't live in those days and certainly wouldn't have wanted to be a female in those days, high risk of dying in childbirth.

I managed to find my car, almost on autopilot and I sat for some time before driving off. I might even have dozed for a few minutes. My head was spinning around inside like a top with a nuclear core and my stomach felt cramped and tight.

I had opened the Pandora's boxes of religion and grief, there was unfinished business with both. But how to resolve it, that was the question which was incarcerating my mind. Until I found some sort of answer I was lost to the question.

Thankfully I had filled the car's fuel tank before going to the hospital, when I'd bought the soup for Daddy. I drove all night, I don't know where, I just drove.

I wound up in the country, having pulled up in a layby and fallen asleep. I had no idea where I was when I woke up and tried to stretch my aching body. I had a drink from the water bottle I always keep with me, then I needed to find somewhere to wee. No one was about, so I nipped into a field and watered some dock leaves.

I always keep a few things in the car with me, some wet wipes, a drink and some emergency food, usually a couple of cereal bars. I ate one now and drank some more water. I gradually came more awake and a quick wipe over with the wet wipes, helped me reinforce that. I had removed all my makeup, it was trashed anyway with my crying, and I didn't feel a need to replace it. In fact I couldn't feel anything except tired, my senses were numbed.

I looked at my watch, it was just coming up to eight o'clock, with that I heard a church clock begin to peal. Almost in a trance I walked towards the noise. I saw the odd pedestrian and was passed by the occasional car, but this had to be one of the quietest villages I'd ever been to.

I saw a sign, 'To the C16th Church.' I followed it. It was a quaint looking place and I walked down through the path to the porch. I felt for my handbag, I did have it with me and breathed a sigh of relief when I recalled locking the car and putting the keys inside my bag. I checked and they were there.

I walked into the porch and to my surprise the door was unlatched, I pushed and it opened, and I walked into the cool musty smelling building. I could hear someone moving about but I felt it was a place of peace and might help me think. I walked as quietly as I could, my heels clicking on the stone flags, towards the back of the church and sat down.

I looked around but only noticed how ancient everything seemed, but this sense of peace pervaded everything and I decided if there was a God, then this might aptly be a so called, 'House Of God', because certainly there was something here.

I sat drifting in my thoughts but apart from feeling calmer, my head still buzzed. I pulled out the hassock, or little kneeling cushion, from the back of the chair in front and knelt down on it, trying a prayer to something I wasn't sure if I believed in.

I had difficulty focusing, which was part of the problem. Maybe I just needed Dr Thomas and her skills or a therapist of some sort? I was losing the battle here. I sat back down and thought of my mother, and the tears came. I was so absorbed in my own feelings, and had a tissue up to my eyes when I became aware of someone sat alongside me.

"Hi, it's so peaceful here isn't it?" A quick glance showed the speaker was a woman perhaps fortyish, wearing a fleece jacket and jeans.

I nodded rather than spoke, I was too choked to emit any coherent linguistic sounds.

"You're upset about something," she said quietly, almost mesmerically
I nodded.

"They say a trouble shared is a trouble halved, want to see if it's true?"

Somehow, this place and this woman felt trustworthy and I needed to talk with someone or go completely mad. "I'd like that," I said with a croaky voice.

"Good, I'm Marguerite, by the way."

"Cathy," I replied taking a deep breath to try and calm myself enough to talk. I was still shaking a little.

"Why are you here?"

"Good question. I don't know." I shrugged, some tears came and I took a deep breath to try and suppress them. It almost worked.

"You look tired."

"I am, I think I drove around in circles most of the night."

"Why was that?"

"Dunno trying to think."

"Think about what?"

"Dunno really."

"Are you sure?"

I began to feel the tears escape my eyes again. I felt her hand on mine and she said calming things. "I'm,(sob) a bad person." I sobbed heavily and she put her arm around me.

"Why are you a bad person?"

"I'm (sob) an abom(sob)ination."(sob)

"Wow, that's a pretty strong indictment. Why do you bring this charge against yourself?"

"I'm unnatural," I managed a whole phrase without sobbing.

"What do you mean,'unnatural'?" It was the gentlest interrogation I had ever received.

"I'm really a man." I burst into tears again.

"Are you, I wouldn't have known?"

"I'm waiting for reassignment surgery."

"I hope it will make you feel more complete," she squeezed my hand, "although you look pretty good to me."

"I've offended God, I'm an abomination."

"So is that why you're here?"

"I suppose so," I was sobbing again.

"What do you expect God to do?"

"I dunno, kill me."

"Kill you? What for, for being yourself?"

"Yes," said a tiny voice from under the tissue.

"My goodness, what God do you believe in? He sounds a real tyrant to me."

"I don't know, I don't know if I believe in anything except I seem cursed."

"By God?"

"I suppose so."

"Do you feel threatened here?"

"No," I blushed, I was being such a baby. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she smiled at me and there was such warmth in her eyes. "This place is a place of sanctuary, protected by the love of God, not the wrath of some ancient, Old Testament deity. I suspect that is what brought you here, so you could see that you are loved for yourself. We are all equal in the eyes of God, none of us are better or worse, none of us are hated or despised. These are all things we do as humans to each other, we don't need a God to do that, we manage perfectly well by ourselves."

I almost laughed at the absurd picture she painted of humanity."Why did he take my mother, before I could make my peace with her?"

"Gosh, another accusation. Did you actually see God come and take her."

"Now you're mocking me," I said and went to stand.

"Please sit down and answer my question."

I slumped back in the chair. "No I didn't."

"Were you there when she died, it sounds as if you were."

"Yes, she had never seen me as a girl. I was with a woman friend and we were shopping in Southampton when my dad phoned to say she was in hospital and to come straight away. I would have gone back to my room to change, but that was in Portsmouth and my friend thought we didn't have time. She was right, we got there and she died moments later."

"I'm sorry, did she say anything?"

I was crying again, "Yeah, she said, 'I thought I heard my Charlie, but he's sent two angels in his place.' She lay back and died."

"So she saw you and your friend as angels?"

"Dunno, she was dying."

"I can see why she might make that mistake."

"I can't."

"Two beautiful creatures approaching her."

"What Stella and me!" I almost laughed at her.

"Thats what she said she saw."

"It could have been a delirium, various brain chemicals. I'm a biologist, there are lots of explanations for death experiences."

"So am I, I have doctorate in biochemistry. I'm also open to the chemicals creating this effect as the mechanism, perhaps designed by something to ease our passing."

"Oh not Intelligent Design, and all that crap."

"No, that's just poor scientific reasoning."

"I agree absolutely." I looked at her again, "If you're a scientist, what are you doing here, in a place of superstition?"

"Whoa, another accusation. Answer me this first, you're a scientist, why are you here?"

"I don't know, accident?"

"Meaningful coincidence or synchronicity as Jung would have put it?"

"My consultant says Jung was barking," I chuckled.

"Did he do...."

"She, it's a woman," I corrected.

"Sorry, has she done an analytical session with Jung, then?"

"I doubt it she's far too young," I sniggered at my accidental pun and so did she.

"Very good, you look better than when I first sat down."

"I feel better, thank you." I smiled at her and she smiled back. "So why are you here?" I asked.

"Why d'you think?" She answered back.

"Don't tell me you're some angelic being sent by God's press office?"

"Oh I like that, can I quote you on that?"

"If you want," I wasn't sure if she was still mocking me.

"I work here."

"What? I don't understand."

"This is my parish."

"What you're a priest?"

"Yes."

"Why aren't you wearing a dog collar?"

"Why aren't you in a lab coat?"

"Okay, I surrender, God got me."

"You talk in riddles. I don't usually come into the church this early unless I'm doing a service. I'm not until this evening, but for some reason I found myself here looking for a book I needed for a sermon I was trying to write on St Thomas."

"I've read his Gospel, one of the Gnostic ones."

"It's lovely isn't it."

"My parents didn't think so, wasn't canon, so everything I said they argued against."

"They gave you hard time then?"

"Yeah what with my gender thing and my heresy."

"Heresy, wow, what sort of Christians were they?"

"Born again Evangelicals."

"Oh dear." She sighed and shook her head, "It's so sad that people don't think about what they believe. It's good to challenge things until they feel right, not just comfortable."

"You sound like my old RI teacher, she was a physicist as well. Taught me a lot about acceptance."

"Acceptance, are you sure? In order for others to accept you, you need to accept yourself and I thought I heard some wavering there."

"Yeah," I looked at the floor.

"And that's easy to blame on God?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Can I give you a picture to think about?"

"Yes please do."

"Okay, what if God is everything and nothing, all paradox and yet so simple, we can't see him or her or it, like wood for trees? What if we create our own destinies, from our genes and our culture and our experiences, our education and our relationships? Some of us will die younger than others, some will be rich, some poor in material terms. Others will be rich in experiential terms, feel loved and so on. The variables are endless. What if God was something inside us as well as wherever else people have put him? How would you feel about him or her or it, then?"

"I don't know. I need to think about that."

"Have you had breakfast?"

"No, I erm fell asleep in the car."

"Come back to the vicarage with me and have a hot drink and a bite of breakfast?"

"I hate to impose."

"You're not, besides I want to hear your answer."

I followed her back to a modern detached house, "There used to be a rector who lived in that old pile over there. It's an old folks home now, I'm happy with double glazing and cavity wall insulation." I nodded and we chuckled.

We had several cups of coffee and a bowl of porridge, followed by toast and jam. I was touched by her generosity.

"Now, my fee."

I sat back with a jolt and reached for my bag.

"No, not money, your answer to my hypothesis."

"It certainly feels more comfortable than my previous model."

"And?"

"Yeah, I couldn't blame anyone but myself for my situation."

"Why have you got to blame anyone? What if it's just your genes or DNA or rogue mitochondria somewhere in your brain. You can't help who you are, only what you become, what you do with it. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"I don't believe anyone as pretty as you was ever a boy."

"I have dangly bits."

"So, lots of women have all sorts of genital variations."

"Not quite the same as mine."

"Don't be too sure, nature is very experimental and with six or seven billion of us on this poor planet, anything could happen."

"Well my birth certificate says boy."

"That's just a piece of paper which can be corrected."

"I have to go," I saw the time it was ten o'clock, "I have taken so much of your precious time."

"I've enjoyed the conversation. I hope all goes well with your surgery and I hope you you find someone to love you."

"I already have, he's in hospital in Portsmouth, a shooting accident." I went on to explain about Simon and Stella and looked at the clock it was now eleven.

"Marguerite, can I ask you something?"

"Of course Cathy."

"If once I get everything sorted, birth certificate, surgery and the rest. If I wanted to get married, would you marry me?"

"Wow! You don't ask small questions, do you?"

"I'm a scientist, remember."

"As you don't live in the parish I might have to ask my bishop, but he's pretty good. So off the top of my head I don't know. In my heart, yes I should love to marry you."

I teared up again and she hugged me. "Thank you, so much. You are an angelic being."

"Nah, you ask my husband, he'll put you right."

"Where is he?"

"He's away with my son at his mother's, they're doing some decorating for her."

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm asking such personal questions." I blushed.

"I've got one for you?"

"Oh, okay."

"Do you want to use the loo before you go?" We both laughed at that and she showed me where it was.