(This is fiction based on The Two Popes, commissioned by Pinguino on twitter)
It was a bright, clear afternoon in Vatican City. The soothing sounds of a gentle breeze and the occasional chirping of birds were suddenly interrupted by the mechanical groaning of an automobile racing down the path. With a whine, its breaks halted it just in front of the door to the Pope’s residence. The passenger door opened and out stepped the baby-faced young Cardinal, Jorge Mario Bergoglio. No sooner than he had set both feet on the ground, the door to the residence opened, revealing none other than Pope Benedict XVI himself.
“JORGIE!” The pope exclaimed, waving excitedly and jogging down the path toward the car. “I didn’t expect you here so soon. How was the flight across the pond?”
“It is good to see you again, His Eminence.” Jorge bowed his head.
“Hell, don’t go getting all formal with me. We’re still bros, right?” The pope gave Jorge a firm, familiar slap on the back. “Call me Benny!”
Jorge raised his head with a hint of a smile creeping onto it. “Alright… Benny.”
“Come on, let’s go inside. I have some piping hot ‘za ready for us.” Benny said as he began inching back toward the door; Jorge soon started to follow.
After a short trek down the hall, Benny stopped at a pair of double doors, grasped both handles and dramatically flung them open. Jorge’s eyes were overwhelmed by the sudden bright glow inside, but as his eyes adjusted, he witnessed a place he thought could only exist after death. It was the game room to end all game rooms. The centerpiece was a pool table overhung with a lamp covered with stained glass that depicted The Creation of Adam, but the trim along the bottom repeated the phrase “EAT AT JOE’S”. To the left was a row of classic arcade cabinets: Ms. Pac Man, Galaga, Polybius. All of the classics were accounted for. Beside those was a small bar counter with stools in front of an impressive rack of liqueurs. On the right sat the largest television Jorge had ever laid eyes on, stretching at least 100 inches corner to corner. Around it sat every gaming console ever made, along with shelves upon shelves of game discs and cartridges. A large, eminently lounge-able sofa and two equally nap-inducing recliners completed the ensemble.
Benny jaunted over to the bar where several pizza boxes sat in wait. He flipped them open and reached behind the counter to pull out a heaping pile of disposable napkins and paper plates.
“Help yourself. I got some meat lovers, Hawaiian, just pepperoni…” Benny craned his neck to look at the furthest box. “and some extra cheese over there.”
Jorge loaded up a plate with a variety of ‘za and began chowing down as they migrated to the sofa.
“So, uhh… Benny.” Jorge started nervously
“Yeah, what up, bud?”
“I… I think I want to quit.” The pause between his last word and Benny’s response felt like a century of agony.
“What the fuuuuuck are you talking about bro?” Benny’s face seemed equal parts confused and upset. “You can’t just fuckin’ quit, man. The whole crew is counting on you, dude. I’m counting on you.”
“Benny, I just… don’t know if I can…”
“Naw, fuck that. You’re like my left hand, dawg. If my own damn left hand doesn’t have enough confidence, what’s that say about me?” Benny seemed to soften slightly. “We’re bros, ain’t we?”
“Yeah, of course.”
“Then you know I’m here for you. We’re all here for you. We can work out whatever shit’s going on. That’s what bros do.” Benny firmly put his red solo cup of diet mountain dew on the coffee table in front of them. “You ain’t quittin’ and that’s final.”
Jorge, embarrassed and despondent, looked down at the pristine hardwood floor. The awkward silence stung both of them, as the mood had been severely shifted toward “major bummer” territory. Benny walked over to his Xbox 360 and hit the power button. The familiar Xbox logo appeared on the massive TV as he returned with two controllers.
“We can talk it out later, bro. We’ll make it all good. For now though, let’s play some motheRFUCKIN’ HALOOOOO!” Jorge looked up and grabbed the second player controller with a meek smirk on his face. It was hard to stay down when this bozo and his antics were afoot.
The bros gamed their hearts out into the evening, taking short breaks to munch on pizza between matches. They mused about Master Chief’s suit jerking him off and how much they both want to bang Cortana, even theorizing the mechanics of sex with a hologram. It was extremely a pair of dudes being bros. Eventually, the sun started to set, the pizza started to get cold and the angry players online took their toll.
Benny set his controller down after deciding not to queue up for another match. He stood up and stretched his under-utilized gamer muscles. “Yo, Jorgie.”
“Yeah? Sup.”
“Let’s go for a walk. I need some fresh air and the sunset is real nice from the garden around this time.”
“That sounds nice. Sure.” Jorge stood and did the same stretching dance before following Benny to the door to the garden.
The pair stepped out into the exquisitely tended garden. In front of them was a bed of rainbow colored flowers surrounded a topiary depicting The Thinker. Beyond, a corridor of hedges led to an open area with an ornate gazebo in the center. Jorge was ready to have a seat under the gazebo, but Benny motioned him toward another hedge-lined passage leading toward a small gravel road. Just a few paces away sat a stately old popemobile, fashioned from a 1998 Ford Escort.
“What is this old piece of shit?” Jorge asked, confused at the purpose of such a rustbucket.
Benny took a high step up onto the hood of the vehicle, plopped his butt on the roof and let his legs rest on the windshield. “This is my thinkin’ place. Whenever I sit up here and look at the sky, it’s like the whole world vanishes leaving just me and the big guy upstairs. Come on up. The view is great.”
Jorge tried to mimic Benny’s step onto the hood, but his smaller stature wouldn’t allow it. Benny slid half way down the windshield and extended a hand. Jorge wedged his foot onto the top of the front tire and reached for the hand. Benny’s hand was quite large compared to his own and a mite rough but quite muscular. With a forceful pull, Jorge was thrust onto the car where he took a place next to his bro. The pair sat silently in the twilight. A cool, gentle breeze rustled their hair and sent a wave of goosebumps down Jorge’s arms.
Despite the pizza, Jorge could still feel a little twinge of hunger remaining. He reached into his fanny pack and pulled out a small orange. He stared at it for a moment before glancing over to Benny.
“Hey.” Benny looked down from the beautiful purple, pink, orange, yellow and red sky. “Want some orange?”
“Hell yeah. I love oranges.” Benny noded his head gently.
Realizing he didn’t have any tools on hand to peel it, Jorge tried to dig his finger straight into the rind. This seemed to be a particularly thick rind though. The harder he pressed, the more it became an oblate spheroid until finally he broke through. Once ruptured, the compressed fruit began spraying its sticky juices everywhere. Benny and Jorge both quickly turned away, but it was too late. They were both covered in a mist of fresh squeezed orange juice.
Once the surprise of the spray faded, Jorge barely had time to look worried about covering the pope with juice before a hearty laugh came bellowing from Benny’s lungs.
“Haaa ha ha ha!” He began trying to wipe some of the juice from his face. “Now that is refreshing. Even when you ain’t tryin’ you always make me laugh, Jorgie.”
Jorge quickly calmed down thanks to the lighthearted laughter and began properly peeling the orange and separating its slices. They partook of the orange together until the last hint of the sun’s warm glow had faded from the sky. The automatic lights around that garden clicked on and Jorge turned to look at Benny.
“You’ve always been such a messy eater. You’ve got juice and shit all around your mouth.” Jorge turned to his bag and rustled around for a moment before producing a small, thin square.
“Yeah, I guess I kinda am. What’chu doin’?” Benny tried to wipe his own mouth, only to realize the juice had begun to dry and was already sticky.
Jorge ripped open the top and pulled out and unfolded the pre-moistened towelette. He leaned toward Benny, cloth in hand, and gingerly wiped his sticky, messy mouth for him. Benny turned toward Jorge and his eyes went wide for a moment.
“Mmhpf.” Benny said softly, not wanting to interrupt his bro.
After only a few wipes Benny’s face was as clean as ever. Jorge gently put the sheet down, but his eyes stayed locked on Benny’s. The two peered past each others eyes and deep into their souls for what felt like hours. This intimate gaze was too comforting and fragile to risk looking away. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Benny felt himself leaning closer and closer to his bro. Their faces were now separated by only a few inches as they continued to drink of the calming visage of the other.
This was it. This was the reason he had been looking for all along. Jorge’s time in the crew had felt meaningless, but now a newly realized meaning was flooding his body and soul. This is why he needed to stay. In a single, graceful motion, Jorge lunged forward and locked his lips with Benny’s.
It felt as if time had stopped. The air was perfectly still. The only sounds came from their furiously beating hearts. It was as if there was nothing else in the world. All that existed at this moment on this mortal plane was the intimate, warm embrace of these two. Outside, only the big cheese up in the sky remained, looking on with a warm, approving grin.
When they finally opened their eyes, they had already begun to separate. Each saw the others face, now flush with color. They both sat stunned as they processed what they had just done, though not a hint of regret or shame existed in either of their minds. With some heavy breath, Jorge spoke up and broke the silence.
“I won’t quit. I… didn’t realize how much I need you.”
The rest of the night was a blur, but neither could forget what happened.
A knock suddenly came to Jorge’s door.
“Hey bro, time to get up. You don’t wanna miss your flight.”
Jorge’s eyes shot open and glanced at the alarm clock next to the bed. He needed to hurry to the airport. “Oh shit, it’s 10:30 already? Thanks bro, I’ll be out in a sec.” A quick shower and change of clothes later, Jorge was out in the hall and heading for the front door. Benny was waiting outside for him, along with a taxi to the airport.
“Bro, I’m so glad you stopped by. I hope you can visit again soon.”
“Yeah. Me too.” Jorge replied wistfully as Benny shoved a pile of aluminum foil into his hands.
“Take the leftover pizza. I probably already ate like two thirds of it last night.” Jorge returned a meek thanks and began walking toward the car.
“Hey. One last thing before you go.” Benny said. Jorge turned around. “Secret crew handshake?” A smile grew across Jorge’s face as he placed his things on the ground for a moment. The two assumed the horse stance facing each other, jump up, high slap, deep squat, low slap, a pirouette into an arm bump, pirouette again into a fist bump, a quick monkey monkey dance and finish with interlocking with each others hands above their heads. Their gaze at each other from under their raised arms lasted slightly longer than usual, but they soon said their final goodbyes and Jorge drove off.
Benny stood there waiting until the last bit of the car was out of sight. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small slip of folded paper. He flipped it open and read his handwriting:
“Dear Crew, I resign. Your Bro, Pope Benedict XVI”
Benny held the note to his chest. His face belied his inner pain. Tears began to steam from his face as he barely managed to whimper “I’m sorry, Jorgie. I’m sorry.”
