InsaneJournal

cathedrals
Who: Cloud Strife
When: Late afternoon
Where: A church
What: Catching a big storm on the way home, Cloud takes a break and seeks refuge in a house of inspiration.
Rating/status: G/finished.

The snow was fantastic. It was full, it was thick, and it did a good job making his job so much harder.

Patient man as he was, no one ought to fault Cloud that he felt frustrated by the turn of events but he was determined to finish his delivery and call it a day and maybe just hole up in his room where it was warm and dry and as the day and his load disappeared, it had felt like things were finally willing to go his way. Already, he was thinking about taking out some warm drinks for him and Zack before he went on home.

But the plan disappeared just as quickly as summer had as the snow began to blow in mad gusts and as he drove closer to a main intersection, he started noticing cars going the other direction.

And there it was, up ahead of him: a huge post lying on its side, a car in-between it and the concrete, surrounded by a couple of people looking distressed and cold.

Had this happened without the snow, Cloud would have just turned around and found another way through. But the wind was picking up and he really ought to take shelter, he knew, so even though he turned around, he headed straight instead to a place he’d found along the way.

There goes the plan of getting home early.

Before the wind could knock him off his bike, Cloud found again the church he had passed with its doors closed and three cars parked in its front lot. He rang the bell and waited and hoped for someone to notice him as he hung onto his bike.

Not long after, a young lady wrapped in thick, furry fabrics appeared from the cathedral’s side door and shuffled through the piling snow as she kept her hood pressed tight against her ears and she squinted at Cloud from behind the bars.

Cloud now felt lucky he had his goggles on. “It’s about to storm,” he cried over the howling and the snow. “Can I go in?”

The young lady nodded, lifted one finger up to him, then went about the troubles of extracting a wide ring of keys from her coat pocket and searching for the right one before the wind plucked them all out of the earth. She took her time and with proper reason before she managed to unlock the gate and she stepped aside as Cloud marched in with the bulk of his Fenrir. They placed her beside one of the cathedral’s small trucks (fond memories he had with these vehicles) and found something to wrap her with before they hurried into the door.

By the time they had made it in, the wind had become more terrible and Cloud had to be the one to close the door for the lady, pressing his body against it while she went about the business of locking it. “Thanks,” he said to her as he slipped his goggles off his eyes.

The young lady removed her coat, and Cloud realized that she didn’t look as young as he thought. She was small and slim, given, but wrinkles were already around her eyes and lips and there was a gold band around one of her fingers when she removed her gloves. “You’re welcome,” she said to him with a rasp voice as she looked at his face.

She was quiet for a moment. Taken, perhaps, by his eyes, Cloud thought. The darkness had a way of making it look even more unreal.

“Are you hungry?”

“Cold,” Cloud admitted. That was enough to earn him a ticket into the kitchen.

It was a tiny space just a few steps across the door and then to the left of the dead-end. The two longest walls was filled with shelves fully stocked by jars, packets and things and the area was mostly occupied by a medium rectangular table and tiny little stools that could seat maybe a dozen and a half.

Cloud sat on one that wobbled. The room was warm and it felt good although his face stung from the chilly wind. He wondered if it looked red.

“Wait here, I’ll serve you something.” She disappeared behind a curtained door just across the one they’d come in from.

The entire time he was alone, Cloud ran his hands through his hair the way Zack might have then ran his fingers through it as though it was going to transform the mess that it was. The scent of coffee wafted easily into the room and his hostess returned with a mug on a plate.

“I’ve got some breads toasting,” she explained as she sat down beside him while he sipped gratefully from his mug. “It should be out in a minute.”

“The coffee’s good enough.”

“It might take time for the weather to let up,” she said patiently. “I’ve buttered it up before I toasted it. It will be good with the coffee.”

It sure seemed like it would be. Already, Cloud could smell the fragrance of butter in the air and...well, maybe he was just a little bit hungry. Persuaded, he nodded. “All right,” he said, “Thank you.”

This seemed to have pleased his hostess, and she smiled happily at him. “I’ll be back,” she told him and as she stood up, the bell of the toaster chimed and she disappeared behind the curtain again.

Cloud could hear a couple of plates clinking against each other; he sipped from his coffee. In the silence that passed while his snacks were prepared, the hymn of music seeped into the kitchen and he set down his drink and turned back, over his shoulder as if to watch what seemed to be soft voices singing in a distance.

But all there was were jars of beans or berries or whatever. Cloud never said that he knew his fruits well.

“That’s the children singing.”

Cloud turned to see his hostess returning with his slices of warmed, buttered bread. “Children?”

“The children’s choir,” she explained as she sat beside him and slid the plate over to him. As Cloud took a piece and ate, a soft crunch resounding as he bit, she continued: “They come here everyday for practice.”

“They sound good,” he said, nodding as he devoured the rest of the bread and washed the butter down with some bitter coffee. “They must be practicing very hard.” Even in this weather, they were all out here, after all, when they should just be sitting inside their houses and maybe with a warm drink.

“They love what they’re doing,” she said happily. “They wouldn’t let the snow keep them away from singing.”

Cloud returned to his cup and bread and ate.

“Would you like to watch them sing?”



Cloud couldn’t say no.

The weather outside wasn’t getting any kinder, but in the hallway outside the church, it was as bright as daylight.

“This is a big church,” Cloud said to the woman.

“It’s a small one, actually,” she said as she turned to him while he looked around the hall, at the faces on the idol and the painted pictures that decorated the wall, all so bizarre and empty to him. “Do you go to church, Mr. Cloud?”

Cloud turned to her and shook his head. “There’s not a lot of churches back home.” And the one he knew of was only half a church now.

This seemed to have landed a strange note on the smaller woman, though, who blinked at him with furrowed brows and the beginning of a tight frown on her face. “I’m sorry, I thought you were American. So where did you live before this? Asia? China?”

“A different place,” Cloud answered easily. “I’m one of those people who...just arrived.” New arrivals, the displaced, the lost...aliens, even, he didn’t know what he was called by the local folks, exactly.

She seemed to have understood quickly, though, and she parted her lips as she let out a sound of realization. “I see,” she said. “No wonder...your eyes...”

Cloud nodded. He left it at that.

“But do you like going to church?”

“When I have time, yeah,” he said as he paused in his steps while the woman opened the door before him, beyond which the singing rang louder and bolder. Yes, he missed going to church -- or at least he missed going to a particular one where he liked to just sit and think and be alone in silence.

And he won’t lie, when he got to New York with no idea where to live, he thought about finding a church and camping in...

Beyond the hallway was an internal sunshine that illuminated the church. The ceilings were high, the space gracious and there was enough warmth in the room to keep his fingers from turning blue.

He came in from the side door leading into the altar, walking in the space behind the choir of twelve before he descended down the steps beside them. His arrival came as a surprise to the young kids who all turned to watch him move but he ignored them as he made his way down to the frontmost pew at the right row and sat down to watch.

His hostess followed him just as the song ended -- and as a new one began, no one made a move to sing, again. The pianos stopped, and all eyes were on the musical director who urged them to carry on.

“Don’t mind me,” Cloud said to them as the woman sat beside him.

Young eyes turned to each other, and soon enough the piano keys restarted and this time, the children finally sang.

What they were singing of, Cloud didn’t know; Cloud never understood, but they were still pleasant to the ears. Their voices were soft and cautious, and yet bold and whole all the same. They were so young to be singing so well, Cloud thought, but then, there were many things that children could do beyond playing in the streets, anyway.

He really admired them for their quiet power.

“They’re good,” he said to the woman beside him and she smiled and thanked him for what he’d said. Cloud was honest, they were good. With their voices, they brought life to the church which was otherwise empty and silent, and he found himself wondering if this was what a church was supposed to feel like.

An old friend of his would have loved this. Looking back, he found that the doors were closed. He’d almost half-expected them to open and see a woman in pink walking down the aisle, a comfortable smile on her face..

When the song had finished, a break had been announced and he and the woman applauded their performance. The children were pleased and many of them ran to him and the lady with smiles and giggles and heavy feet. Cloud reached out an arm in case one of them should fall over and beside him, the woman flattened a small girl’s cheeks with her hands and told her how good she was. Another boy had come asking for her assistance to relieve himself, and so she stood up and led him to the bathroom.

So Cloud was left with seven children; three were on the floor, two beside him and two more standing before him, one of them a head higher than his form. “You were really good,” he said to them honestly.

“I’ve never seen you here before, Sir.”

“Are you her boyfriend?”

“Do you like singing, too, Mister?”

“What’s your name?”

Cloud smiled a little at the kids. “My name’s Cloud.”

“Like the ones in the skies?” asked the one in two jackets.

Cloud nodded. “Like the fluffy ones in the skies.”

“You don’t look too fluffy to me.”

The children laughed and Cloud’s smile widened as he ruffled the youngest boy’s hair.

“Are you her boyfriend?” insisted the dark-skinned girl.

“I’m not,” Cloud said to her as she gazed at him widely. “I’m a visitor. I’m waiting for the snow to stop so that I can go back home.”

“You’ve got really blue eyes, Mister,” said the chubbiest boy of them all. “How’d you get them?”

By a science project, Cloud knew, but surrounded by children, that world of ill memories was far, far away. That, and Zack was alive in this city, anyhow. “I was born this way,” he said.

“Why don’t I have eyes like that?” asked the red-haired boy beside him.

“‘cause I’m not from here,” Cloud answered him patiently, turning to look at him, sure that even he in his young age would understand what was happening around the city. “I came from a different planet.”

“You’re an alien!”

They all shrieked.

“No wonder you’ve got hair and eyes like that,” said the tallest one, the tip of his tongue jutting out of his teeth a little when speaking, and he crossed his arms like a boss. “So what are you doing here in our planet? ...Sir?”

“He’s visiting, didn’t you heard!!”

The kids had shushed the boy with gelled hair quite eagerly and Cloud had joined them in his silence, a finger against his lips although the echo that the tight voice made in the quiet sanctuary almost made him laugh.

“But you said--”

“You’re right.” Cloud nodded, making sure he knew it as he looked into his eyes. “I’m just visiting. One day, I’ll leave this place and go back home.”

“Where is home, Mister?” asked the smallest girl in front of him.

Where is home? Well, that was a good question. Home was where his friends were and his business was...and that would be the city of Edge. But it was dreary, gray, it was definitely not New York which was so much better and brighter than his “home”. Cloud wasn’t sure he’d like to tell them about a sad place like that, kids having glimmering dreams and all...

“It’s a small town called Nibelheim,” Cloud said instead. “It’s a town at the foot of a mountain range.”

“What’s a mountain range?”

“It’s a series of mountains,” Cloud answered the girl to his left, the one without her front teeth. “It’s not just one mountain or two, it’s more than three or four.”

“That’s a looot of mountains...”

Cloud nodded.

“Do you live in the mountains, Mr. Cloud?”

“Just close to it,” Cloud said to the dark-skinned girl. “I live in a small house near the edge of the town.”

“Is there a castle on top of the mountain?”

Cloud wondered if he ought to say something in relations to the reactor in Mt. Nibel but again, deciding against exposing children to such dreadful realities, he shook his head. “There’s no castle or prince or princess in Nibelheim. But, we do have a haunted house.”

All the children gasped and two of them shrieked, smiling.

“A real haunted house!!”

“Are there monsters?!”

“Are there ghosts?”

“Did someone die in there?!”

“Not so loud, one at a time,” Cloud was laughing softly but clearly, no one was listening to him. All the children on the floor had gotten up, he had two new kids in his audience and one more came running towards them -- that boy who had just relieved himself.

“What’s that, what’s that, what’s that?!”

“Kids, break time’s over,” the woman had announced upon her return, clapping her hands to them. “It’s time to practice.”

“But Sallyyy!”

“Mr. Cloud was just saying...”

“He was going to tell us about the monster...”

“Mr. Cloud lived in a haunted house!”

“Mr. Cloud has to go home,” Sally his hostess explained to the children and they all moaned sadly as Cloud stood up a second later and they gave him room. “But he’ll be back,” she looked up to the blond, “won’t he?”

Cloud didn’t even stop to think; he nodded. And the children cheered, throwing their hands up, some jumping. “I’ll come to watch you sing.”

“So you have to practice really hard,” Sally added and with a gesture to the musical director, the other woman had approached and began collecting her children for practice.

Cloud waved to them all and turned to follow Sally out of the church.

“The storm’s stopped,” she said to their visitor.

“I didn’t even notice,” Cloud admitted to her with a glance. He might have had too much fun with the children. They had really been one hell of a distraction -- from the snow and the problem of finding a way home, as well as the day’s stress and frustrations. In a way, they had rejuvenated him for the rest of the day, or his stay in New York. Already, he was thinking about what he could bring them for the next visit...

“I’m sorry about what I said,” Sally said to him as they stepped out of the church and it seemed as though the storm hadn’t blown at all. The snow was thicker, sure, but the wind was otherwise quiet. “But they seemed to have really liked you.”

“I really do want to come back,” Cloud informed her. “Your kids are nice.”

“Thank you.”

And Cloud wouldn’t admit it...yet...but he liked the church. It was unlike...his favorite one back home...but it was full of light and laughter, a place of solace safe from the world of the lost, where everything made sense and felt familiar...if not lacking...

But he would definitely be coming back.

Sally helped him set Fenrir free and she walked with him as he dragged his motorbike to the gates. As she pulled them open, he swung his leg over his ride and he started her, Fenrir coming to life with a low purr.

Putting his goggles back on, he said, “I’ll come back with flowers.” No church should ever be without flowers.

“Thank you, Mr. Cloud. Drive safely.”

Cloud nodded.

Then lifting a foot off the snow, he kicked Fenrir forward, and with the soft sound of the children’s singing, he rode out of the small church in winter.