An Imperfect Miracle by Thomas L. Peters Page B

cops to make sure everybody was obeying all the rules. He even predicted that there might be enough cash left over to spruce up the town a little and get the sewers to drain better.
    Some people booed him, like Mr. Grimes, for instance, but most like Mom and me just sat there like dummies and listened. After he sat down I looked over at Carlos and Father Tom, who were both smiling and nodding like they agreed with him. I whispered to Mom if she thought they were going to get up and push the idea too from a religious angle. But she whispered back that it might look bad, them being the town’s big Catholics and all.
    Next some bald guy grabbed the mike and spoke in a voice that was so deep that it almost cracked me up. He said that there were already enough robberies in town, especially lately. He said that somebody had just swiped his GPS navigator and his stereo right out of his car, and that with all the outsiders flooding in on account of Mary, crime was bound to shoot up even higher. As soon as he was through the round cop popped up and said that they were working hard to catch the thief. He said that we all ought to keep our minds on what to do about Mary’s picture and not get sidetracked. I asked Mom why the cops were wasting time investigating Mary if they had a real thief to catch, and she whispered back that some cops just liked throwing their weight around.
    Then Mr. Grimes shuffled up to the mike kind of stiff and ginger. He hadn’t even bothered to clean himself up and was wearing the same red lumberjack shirt and dirty blue jeans he had on when the little drunk beat him up. He jerked the mike right off the stand and started pacing back and forth with his shoulders all hunched over and staring at the floor, the way he did when he was lecturing us in class on how dumb we were for not knowing the answers to any of his stupid questions. Then he started stroking his mustache a little with his free hand, which always drove me crazy.
    â€œThe town will be a laughingstock if it gives any credence to this silly fairy tale. I say that the garage should go in as planned. The only reason people are coming to see this comical water stain is because they’ve been deceived through a clever marketing campaign by the Catholic church into believing that their various ailments can somehow be miraculously cured. We all know that it’s a fraud, and that this charade can’t possibly continue. There will be investigations, and the truth will eventually come to light.”
    Right away some old lady in back waved her little fist and hollered that Mary was no fairy tale, and that Mr. Grimes shouldn’t be allowed to tell everybody else what to think. Then Mr. Grimes yelled back something about “separation of church and state,” and that if the town turned Mary into a shrine it would be violating the Constitution. I wondered what church he was talking about, ours or St. Sebastian’s. But I’d learned in social studies that the state capitol was way over in Harrisburg, so I didn’t see what the big problem was.
    A lot of folks must have agreed with me because Mr. Grimes got shouted down pretty quick. He didn’t seem to mind though, because his little eyes started shining real bright and cocky. He stood there waiting until the mayor banged the meeting to order again.
    â€œWhen are you going to learn to think for yourselves instead of buying into all this religious nonsense?”
    â€œWe think you’re an idiot,” somebody yelled.
    â€œMindless people see what they want to see. And if you feel compelled to delude yourselves into thinking that a smudge on a worthless slab of concrete represents divine intervention, then I guess that’s your right, so long as you don’t try and push your silly beliefs on the rest of us. But if you ask me, it’s a sad state of affairs when supposedly educated people in an advanced society such as ours can harbor such antiquated and