“I don’t know, it looks a little too over done,” he says as he steps back and looks at the wall.
“You’re so wrong dude, it looks awesome, when they get here tomorrow they are going to spin out, this has got to be our best one yet!” Jerome says as he slaps Mike on the back.
“You think they’ll appreciate the message or do you think it’s going to be lost?”
Jerome laughs, “Man the message is going to be so lost on them they’ll just be pissed, that’s why we did it. But it’s going to be speaking to everyone else, the images man, they define what it’s all about, the struggle to be at one with yourself but at the same time fighting to fit into a world that won’t accept you for how you are, fucking shit, it’s perfect dude.”
Mike smiles and throws the final can into the knapsack and hooks it over his shoulder, “You think so?”
“Fucking hell I do, now let’s get the fuck out of here before somebody sees us and decides to call the cops.”
“It’s quite a piece,” a voice says from behind them, they both quickly turn to face a man, in his mid to late fifties, dressed all in black, and wearing a shining, white collar.
“Fuck,” Jerome hisses.
“Don’t be afraid Jerome, I’m not here to punish you or Mike for this piece of artwork, I’m here to admire it,” the priest says.
“How the hell do you know our names?” Jerome asks nervously.
“A lucky guess?” he says with a smile. “Not buying it? Let’s just say, I’m a fan of your work, especially yours Michael, do you mind if I call you that, or do you prefer Mike?”
“Michael’s fine,” he says as he looks at Jerome who just shrugs his shoulder and they both look back at the man. “Who are you?”
“Who do I look like?”
“You look like a priest.”
“Well then, I’m a priest,” he says with a smile.
“You high on something?” Jerome asks, the priest looks at him, and laughs.
“No Jerome, I am not on anything, nor am I sick in the head, I am but a simple priest, admiring you wonderful depiction of the last days of Christ, although, I must confess, I didn’t think Jesus and his disciples were that close, not all of them anyway.”
“It’s a message, and messages need to be strong,” Jerome says fiercely, the priest looks at him calmly and smiles again.
“Not everything you do needs to volatile, aggressive and shocking, some people, good people, who are not what you would call zealots, but true believes in the words that were written, they would see the true message, if you lost say, this part and that,” he says as he waves his hand, and pieces of the mural change, Jerome and Mike stagger back in shock and stare at disbelief at the man.
“What the fuck are you?”
“I thought we already worked out, I am a simple priest,” he says confidently.
“Bullshit, no simple priest can do that sort of shit,” Jerome says quickly
“Okay, maybe I’m not just a simple priest, maybe I’m someone who believes in the message you want the world to see, to make them understand that the words they read they misunderstand, you humans have a way of twisting things your way and not in the way it was intended to be, and that’s why, I thought I would come down and help you get it right.”
He smiles again and then in a ball of white light is gone and shoots up into the clouds, leaving Jerome and Mike, starring at each other with open mouths.
“That did not just happen,” Jerome says as they turn back at the mural.