This is a novella I wrote shortly after completing a personal account of my school trip to Lourdes (posted in “Essays”). It set off a train of thought about the nature of faith, miracles and religious claims, and those were the themes I wanted to develop into a fiction. As a consequence, The Miracles is the least caustic I have ever been when writing about Catholicism. Father Eugenio is far more charismatic and charming than I initially intended!
The Miracles by Greg Jameson
“Laudatio! Precatio! Sanare! Mederi!”
The following morning, Fabio awoke as the corridors and rooms echoed with the sound of a deep, soulful male voice, which yelled the strange words over and over again as if it was the most exciting news anybody could hope to hear.
It was the mood of the sentiment that explained the smile on Fabio’s face as he leaped from the bed, dragging the cotton sheet across his still-sleeping father (somehow he had ended up in bed but Fabio was unsure how, as he remembered falling asleep with his back sorely pressed against it).
A few hours later a knock on the door drew Fabio, and the other occupants of the room, out of sleep. Father Eugenio held the door open wide, and beamed at them from the doorway.
“Rise and shine. Are we all ready?”
There was a murmur of assent.
“All right then, get downstairs and let’s get this show on the road.”
Wiping sleep from his eyes, it took Fabio a few minutes to realise that his father was lying on the bed next to him, and as he sprung his legs out of bed, his father stayed as he was, on his back, both arms covering his face.