The Infant of Prague

“Do what you think you should do,” said the Cardinal’s man.

“But can I get some guidance on this?” Father Hogan asked.

“In what way?” asked the Cardinal’s man.

“Well, I was thinking, maybe the chancery could issue a statement,” Father Hogan said.

The ball came smashing back to his own court: “The chancery was not even informed of the… phenomenon… until the Cardinal saw the news this morning on television.”

So he watches TV news in the morning, Father Hogan thought. You’d think he’d have more important things to do than that.

“I certainly should have informed… someone,” Father Hogan said.

“Well, that’s water over the dam, isn’t it?” the Cardinal’s man said. “I think you’re going to have to paddle in that stream by yourself for the time being, Father Hogan.”

And that was that. Hogan heard the receiver click and said aloud, “In other words, it’s up to me to twist slowly in the wind.”

Kay Davis found Father Hogan kneeling on the side altar at ten in the morning. This time, Dick Lester was in the church behind her. He started shooting when he was less than ten feet from the altar and the bright TV lights announced his presence.

Father Hogan jumped down from the altar and the sound echoed through the damp, dimly lit church. At that moment, Dick Lester flicked the light bar off. “Too dark,” he complained. “Can you turn the lights on, Father?”

“I cannot turn the lights on,” Father Hogan said. “What are you doing in my church with that camera?”

Kay Davis pushed her thin body between the two large men and touched Father Hogan’s chest. The touch arrested him. He was among the minority of men represented in her book who would have said they found Kay Davis sexy in a kittenlike way. She had a wet-lipped smile and natural teeth that were so perfect they looked capped.

“Father, we really came back because this is a story that has to be told, a story of faith and hope,” she said.

“Well, people can go someplace else for their faith and hope,” Father Hogan said. “I’m not ready to be pushed around by the news media. I just got a call from someone at the Sun-Times, and for all I know this is going to be going on all day. I don’t have time for this. You want to do something about St. Margaret’s, why don’t you write a story about how we need a new roof here on the church? Or the Ramirez girl over in the school, who won the northwest division spelling bee last year. Now that’s good news.”

“Father, you can’t turn your back on a miracle,” Kay Davis said in that very soft and sure voice that women in her book found so annoying.

“Maybe I can get a tight shot,” Dick Lester said.

“Get outta my church,” boomed Frank Hogan, and he pushed Kay aside and went for Dick Lester. With a cameraman’s instinct, Lester flicked the light bar on and blinded the priest for a moment.

“Don’t fight in church,” Kay Davis said.

The two men paused and considered it. Frank Hogan’s face was flushed.

He had tried to contact his rabbi at the chancery office after getting the call from the Cardinal’s man, but he didn’t get an answer. His rabbi had watched out for Hogan’s interests downtown for a dozen years, from his first parish, Our Lady of God on the southwest side. St. Margaret’s, while not a rich parish, was a step up the ladder of success. If Hogan didn’t stumble here, he could look forward to getting a nice fat north suburban parish in a year or two. Which is why the weeping statue appeared to be more than a simple glitch in his plans. He had returned to the church that morning to see if there was some reasonable explanation for the stained, watery face. He had found none and uttered a heartfelt prayer: “Why are You doing this to me?”

“Father,” Kay Davis said. “If you don’t let us film the statue, someone else will. Some newspaper photographer will get in here or something. You can’t keep the church locked—”

“I can keep the church locked,” Hogan said. “And open it up for morning Mass and put a couple of the parish men on the doors to make sure no one with cameras comes inside.” He formed the plan as he said it.

“That’s crazy,” Dick Lester said. And it was, but it worked to keep cameras away from St. Margaret’s one more day.

Which, in turn, led to a media frenzy to get inside the church and photograph the statue of the Christ Child.

On Tuesday night, Kay Davis described her own religious experience in witnessing the miracle of the weeping statue. To make up for a lack of graphics, Kay purchased a statue of the Infant of Prague in a religious supply store on the edge of the Loop, and the art department came up with a ten-second film clip of the city of Prague. She got a full sixty seconds both at Five and Ten and was interviewed by a stringer from People magazine. Suddenly, she was getting very hot and the memory of that painful Friday luncheon with Hal Newt began to fade.