“Okay.”
It was Noah’s second time seeing the Duomo, but it was no less impressive. The sun gleamed off the marble. Pigeons swooped around the piazza. Noah even spotted a person standing stock still, arms outstretched, as someone trailed birdseed along their sleeves to attract pigeons.
Jake gasped as a pigeon landed on the person’s arm. “Can I try?”
Noah had a horrible flash of trying to get bird poop out of Jake’s clothes or, worse, his hair. “Uh. Maybe later.”
Noah bought them all tickets and led them toward the visitors’ entrance on the southwest corner. A snaking set of metal barricades stretched from the heavy wooden doors to the small shaded stand where two guards were checking people’s tickets—and enforcing the dress code.
“I want one!” Jake said as one of the guards handed over what looked like a folded trash bag to a woman with a spaghetti-strap shirt on.
The trash bag turned out to be a gauzy white poncho, and Noah couldn’t tell if it was fabric or paper. Another strip of gauze made a belt the woman tied around herself, which left the stiff gown looking slightly ridiculous as it flared out below her knees and around her shoulders.
“I don’t think they come in your size.”
“Plus you’re already dressed properly,” Ramin said. “Nicely done, Jake.”
Jake stood up straighter at that, keeping close to Ramin’s side as theyfollowed the line toward the doors. They each got wanded with a metal detector before being allowed inside.
After the sunlit brightness of the piazza, it took Noah’s eyes a moment to adjust to the Duomo’s interior, which was lit by high windows and stained glass. He kept one hand on Jake’s head and the other on his phone, snapping pictures as they moved into the cathedral.
The arches of the ceiling high above looked like the ribs of some enormous whale. And ahead, column after column marched toward the apse, each topped with carved figures all the way around. Noah ached to grab a seat on one of the pews, pull out his sketchbook, and start drawing, but he had to keep up with Ramin and Jake.
Jake kept to his tiptoes, stepping carefully in the blank spaces of the tiled floor, which was laid in intricate patterns of alternating red and black flowers.
“Which way do we go?” Jake asked, his voice soft. Everything in the cathedral was quiet; even the sounds of footsteps upon tile seemed muted by the majesty of the space.
“We could follow them,” Ramin said, pointing to a tour group wearing little wireless headsets as their guide spoke softly into a small microphone.
Noah didn’t know whether to look up or down, left or right: Everywhere the church’s beauty surrounded him. What would it be like to worship here, instead of a converted Popeyes? Not that Noah was considering converting, but still, it was hard to ignore the splendor of a place like this.
The aisle led them past a series of alcoves on their right. In each, a stained glass window illuminated them, intricate scenes from the Bible laid out in glowing detail. Beneath the windows, each alcove hosted paintings, or sculptures, or even beatified cardinals.
“Cool,” Jake whispered, stepping closer to read the placard. Noah kept a hand on his son’s head and watched; with a start, he realized Jake wasn’t moving his lips as he read. When had he stopped doing that?
A strange ache formed in Noah’s chest, grief mingled with pride,because this amazing human he and Angela had made was growing up into his own perfect little person. It was happening so fast.
Everything was. Jake growing up. Angela moving here, maybe taking Jake with her.
Noah and Ramin.
As much as all three scared him, Noah couldn’t find anything to regret in that last one. No matter how many times he told himself to focus on Jake or to listen to Angela’s advice, every time Ramin smiled at him, he forgot everything. Everything except how beautiful that smile was. How it settled deep into his soul. How he’d give almost anything to see that smile every single day.
They made a circuit around the edge of the church, passing stately dark wood confessional booths with intricate metal grilles, and paintings of the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ, dodging around individual tourists or large groups huddled together listening to a guide speaking in hushed tones. At the apse, three enormous stained glass windows, bigger than any of the others they’d seen so far, stretched to the ceiling, filling Noah’s vision with a hundred glowing scenes. He wondered how many hours had gone into making those images. How many hands had crafted the designs, cut the glass, soldered the pieces together. Whether they knew they were making something special.
Noah could feel them. All those hours of devotion. Different from his own devotion, but no less beautiful, to be in service to something greater. Something that you loved.
Noah pinched at his cross and basked in the feeling. His own journey with religion had been long and fraught and complicated, but here, it was easy to remember that for him, it all came back to love.
The back of the cathedral was closed for renovations. Noah wondered, with a building this large and this old, whether there was ever a day when there were no renovations going on.
They wove their way through the pews, paused in front of the altar, admired the enormous pipe organ, and made their way back down the north aisle. Some alcoves were barricaded off for worshippers only, butothers were open. Rows and rows of votive candles flickered. All those prayers.
“Can we light one?” Jake asked.
“Sure.” Noah dug out two euros, let Jake drop them in the copper box and pick the candles, helped him light them and bowed his head to say a short prayer, keenly aware of Ramin waiting behind them. He almost felt self-conscious, but he’d seen Ramin pray, too.
He didn’t mind sharing this.
