“Bam me a large, decaf, non-fat, hot latte,” he muttered as he pulled the Bam See goggles down from his eyes.

The response: “Noted. Would you like that delivered to your favored address or to your current GPS coordinates?” He thought for a moment, remembering the need to walk Shaw, and so replied: “GPS.”

“Noted.”

Jeffrey pulled himself up, slowly, stiffly, using the armchair to steady his clumsy and labored ascent. “What time is it?”

“11:32 AM”.

He said aloud, “Wow. Shaw must really have to go.”

The black miniature poodle bounded toward Jeffery once he understood that his master was no longer engaged in… something else. Watching him pull the headset and googles off was a reliable giveaway. Jeffrey connected the leash clip to Shaw’s collar and proceeded toward the door. Once opened, he saw that it was a beautiful, sunny day outside.

The normal sounds of the city greeted Jeffrey and Shaw as they stepped onto the main walkway in front of their apartment building. It was a typical city day. Numerous Bam trucks and vans scurried in front of them. “Wow, I’d say we’re close to 50 percent now.”

Shaw pulled forward aggressively toward the typical spot and Jeffrey followed closely behind. After squatting and leaving his mark, Jeffrey reached down to the small container of bags clipped to the leash handle and removed the final one. “Bam me doggie poop bags.”

“Noted. Would you like that delivered to your favored address or to your current GPS coordinates?”

“Favored.”

Looking up at the old storefronts, now abandoned or replaced by nail salons, smokers’ lounges, and tattoo parlors, Jeffrey remembered the photos his grandfather once showed him of old Main Street. Of the coffee shops, restaurants, and retail stores. In a whispered voice, he said: “Things were probably better back then. People hung out. In person…”

“Excuse me, Jeffrey.” It was the latte delivery.

“Thank you.” Jeffrey took the cup into his hands and continued his walk. Thinking about the restaurant that once occupied the shuttered Davenport building reminded him that he had not planned anything for dinner. Tonight was his Bam See date with MacKenzie, which he noted was their third. It was customary to advance to in person dating after four or five virtual meetings so he knew he might be getting close to that point.

“Bam Me a single serving of chicken piccata with angel hair pasta and a glass of Bam Double-Oaked Chardonnay. Side Caesar salad.”

“Noted. Would you like that delivered to your favored address or to your current GPS coordinates?”

“Favored.”

“Jeffrey, can I suggest a Bam Silk Pie or the new Bam Butter Pecan Layer Cake, a delicious concoction by noted Bam chef Alexandra Firenza. It includes Georgia pecans and dairy farm butter with rich layers of…”

Remembering that he might soon meet MacKenzie in person and while tapping his stomach with his fingertips, he quickly interjected: “No.”

“Noted. Delivery time?”

The date was scheduled for 7:30 PM and they were each ordering dinner for the occasion. “7:20 PM”.

“Noted.”

Continuing the walk forward, Jeffrey began to think about work. He was a data analyst for Bam, paid to study the purchasing habits of its customers. The stated goal of the company was to increase population saturation from 73 percent to 80 percent within two years and they were tracking to that perfectly. The unstated objective also was to increase the proportion of traffic to 50 percent of all vehicles on the road. According to Bam’s CEO, this was an achievable branding aspiration, though because of the outcry from Anti-Bammers, those lunatic fringers that endlessly repeated tired “slippery slope” concerns regarding Bam’s success, the CEO stopped talking about vehicle percentages and branding. But everyone knew that was still the company’s goal.

Continuing along the familiar route, Jeffrey and Shaw stopped before the ancient church building that once was St. Mary’s. He remembered his grandfather taking him to Sunday Mass there and feeling sorry that his grandfather would be sad to know it was now shuttered. The grandfather had spent a lot of time in that building through the years.

As they passed by, Jeffrey noticed that the lights inside were turned on towards the back of the structure, emitting a beautiful tapestry of colors through the still majestic stained glass windows. The rear door to the church was wide open. This was strange; he had witnessed no activity in there for many years.

The iron gate that had been padlocked for a decade had been removed and now lie open. As he approached, he noticed that a few people were gathered there, one with a rake and another with a broom. Were they cleaning up the old place? Maybe they sold it to make apartments like some of the other churches in the area?

Jeffrey decided to take a closer look. As he did so, he saw that there was a small group of people inside and a few workers on ladders toward the center. At the door, there was a large sign that read: But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait with endurance. Romans 8:25.

“Can I help you?” A tall, thin man with white paint stains on his cheek stood in front of Shaw and Jeffrey. Shaw immediately rushed toward him and the man bent down to pet the dog.

“Shaw and I were just walking by and noticed the lights on in here. It has been a while.”

The tall man continued: “Yes, it has. Too long. I’m Tim, the new pastor here. I was just assigned and so we’re fixing the place up. These are all volunteers from the neighborhood. Perhaps you know some of them.”

Jeffrey gave a quick scan, “No, not really. So you’re Father Tim.”

“Call me Tim. We’re going to start offering Mass here in a month. Maybe we’ll see you then? You… and Shaw can come here any time.”

“Thanks”… and then mustering up the courage to point out: “I’m just surprised to see a church opening up. Most closed years ago. Why now?”

Tim offered: “Well, I believe that the stories we tell in places like this are timeless and so it’s always a good time to hear them. And I also feel that we live in an age when it’s more important than ever to stop and to remember the messages from those stories. To think ahead. To have patience. To experience waiting and doing without, for a time. Faith is about what we can’t immediately see, and what we long for. It’s good to long for some things. We’ll be talking about that as well. It would be good to see you here.”

“Ok, thanks Father… ah, Tim. Yeah, maybe we’ll come by.”

As he walked from the door back out towards Main Street, the tall man’s words rolled through Jeffrey’s mind: patience… waiting… longing. He looked down at Shaw and said aloud: “noted…” and then continued toward home.