When Heaven Meets Earth

Looking out of this small ATR 72 airplane's window, I take one last look at the Cascavel Airport. Soon I'll be up in the air. I hold my diary tightly and sigh. I feel as if another chapter of my life is now closing. As the plane takes off, I wave.

It's now five past three P.M., and I wonder what he is doing now. As the plane reaches its crusing altitude, a girl sitting beside me changes her seat to join her boyfriend or husband. I look around and see some kids playing a guessing game. The kind middle-aged black flight attendant asks them questions, "What animals did you see on your grandpa's farm? A pig? A cow? Some birds? Santa's reindeer?" After each question, the kids would say 'yes' or 'no'. I smiled and admired the loving and patient traits of this professional. Then, I am reminded of dad's own farm, the waterfalls, the end-of-the-year parties, and of course, Father Jorge.

You're right, my dear friend. Life does go on, and I hope we have a good year and are happy. I hope life will be good to you, Father Jorge!

These lines dance in front of my eyes. Then without looking at my scribblings, the scenes unfold before me like a dream. This adventure started about fourteen days ago, at another airport.

* * *

The bus to the Guarulhos International Airport took about thirty-five minutes from Tatuapé Subway Station which was not too bad. I pressed the orange button and got off at Terminal 4. Only Azul and Passaredo Airlines operated in this terminal. I struggled to get my large carryall and icebox out of the crowded bus. I got a free cart and went to dispatch my luggage at the airline counter. The Passaredo ground staff was friendly and handed me my baggage receipt. Then, I went to the toilet where I rinsed my face and smiled to myself. It was time to catch a plane!

In the airport lobby, I noticed the lovely Christmas tree and shot some photos. Then, I went to the boarding area, passed through security check, and reached the large terminal. Lots of kids were running and playing around. I looked straight ahead through the glass and admired the Azul Airplanes arriving and leaving. From where the terminal was, I could easily see the beginning of the runway. I caught sight of my Passaredo Airplane coming in. Its black and yellow tail were unique, just like a hornet's tail. Just then the Passaredo Staff informed that my flight to Cascavel City would be delayed due to heavy traffic on the runway. So this couldn't be my plane, for I saw a line of passengers for Belo Horizonte City. And moments later, I noticed another Passaredo Airplane landing. Hurray! As the flight was already late, the airline agent asked the passengers to line up to board the plane right away. I smiled and boarded last. This airplane model allowed you to only enter and exit from the back. So, I was the last to enter and first to exit, for my seat was the last one.

The powerful turboprop engines went to full power, and we took off with a forty-minute delay. Soon we were already up in the air for our two-hour flight to Cascavel City. And after I put down my camera, I took out my diary to scribble down a few notes.

I'm already on my way to my hometown, Cafelândia do Oeste, which isn't far from Cascavel. The promotional price is really paying off in spite of the delay. It is better than a fourteen-hour bus trip. Anyway, as the end of the year approaches, I wonder, 'Will I fulfill my last resolution for 2004?'

With such thoughts in mind, I smile and put my pen down. Four out of my five resolutions I've already accomplished: to go to church more, to make more time to spend with my friends, to read more, and to declutter my life. I smile and notice that the two seats in front of me are taken by a young couple. They never stop kissing, holding hands, and she was snuggling in next to him. They remind me of my last resolution on my list.

Guarulhos and São Paulo City are now being left behind. The gray sea of buildings and houses cover the entire landscape. Soon, I'll see greenery and hills. Then as I shall approach Paraná State, particularly Cascavel City, I'll admire the sea of farm land divided into a quilt of squares, rectanges, and other geometrical shapes representing the farmland and plantations.

The flight attendants are pushing their carts for their in-flight service. Needless to say, they start from the opposite end from my seat. So, I guess I'm going to be the last to be served. When my turn comes, I order a coke and get a little bag of peanuts. No sooner than I have started eating and drinking, the flight attendants begin collecting the trash, because the pilot announced our descent will start in a few minutes. I look out and marvel at the sight of rivers and farm land stretching out as far as the eye can see. I notice the dark green blotches of the forests running alongside the rivers. I can hardly wait to go fishing and swimming under the falls on dad's farm.

Everybody now is getting ready for landing. I turn on my camera and shoot some lovely photos of soybean plantations stretching as far as the eye can see. Now I can see farm animals, ponds, houses, and greenhouses. I can even see dogs. We fly lower and I see the city and at last cross 277 Freeway and thud! We've landed safely. The airport is quite small and the airplane finally comes to a full stop. I notice a smiling nun chatting happily with an older lady. I'm the first passenger to get off the plane. I stretched my legs and headed towards the small area to get my baggage. Dad and Mr. Ferreira, the hired driver, wave.

"Hi dad! Hi Mr. Ferreira!" We hugged.

"Hi! Did you have a nice trip, son?" The ride to my hometown only takes forty-five minutes. I admired the red rich soil and the lush green plantations. How I've missed the countryside!

As we get near to the farm, we slowed down on the gravel road. We went down into the valley. I just love the picturesque landscape. The car stopped, and mom was already coming out to hug me. We hugged and entered the large but modest country house. As I got home on a Saturday afternoon, I have the chance to attend the evening Mass.

The old church remains the same as ever. I shoot a few pictures of the manger scene but don't see the little statue of baby Jesus. And it's no wonder, because it was December twentieth. I joined my mom and dad on their pew, and the Mass started. We sang the special hymns for Christmas. Mom and dad said they saw lots of new faces in the church that night. I asked them about Father João, but they said he was away in Foz do Iguaçú City for the holidays. Father Jorge was substituting for him. He was a priest from São Paulo.

As I received my communion wafer, our eyes met for the first time. He had those green eyes, very alert and charming. His face was quite handsome and tanned, reminding me of those handsome actors of decades past. He had a large forehead and short graying silvery hair. His hands were large and hairy. I thought that he was in his early sixties. Before the Mass started, I saw him in his white long-sleeved shirt, black dress pants, a black leather belt, and polished black shoes. He smiled and walked fast. He helped a lady fix the cable of her microphone. He bent down on his knees without touching the floor like a Russian dancer. Then, he sprang back to a standing position. Although he was older, he acted and moved more like someone in his early fifties or even younger.

As we sang 'Silent Night' at the end of the Mass, mom called me over to greet the new priest. Dad prefered to exit the church, because he was too shy.

"Father Jorge, good evening! How are you doing?" She hugged him.

"Mrs. Kimura-san!" He smiled. "It's a pleasure to see you and your husband again." He turned to me.

"This is Kenji, my son! He's also from São Paulo." His eyes widen and he opened up with a big smile.

"Nice to meet you, Ken! What a coincidence to meet you in this lovely little town!" He smiled and he also gave me a hug.

"I hope you're enjoying the countryside, Father!" He smiled. Mom told him that I had just arrived today to spend the Christmas and New Year's holidays like every year. He then invited us tomorrow for tea at four P.M. We accepted and thanked him.

When we are in the car, mom told dad we've been invited to attend tea at Father Jorge's house. She turned to me and said, 'He usually has a lot of people gathered in the parochial house. They all like him because he's very sociable and happy.

Geez! I've always wondered what's it like to be a Roman Catholic priest. No masturbation! No extra-marital sex. Of course not, because they aren't allowed to get married! Dumb me! My head was full of questions to ask him tomorrow about his noble vocation.

When did you know that you had the call to be a priest? Did you get a sign in the sky or something?

On Sundays, my parents like to sleep in. I stretched and said my prayers. Then I headed to the bathroom, washed up, brushed my teeth, and began to prepare breakfast. Mom woke up, too, and helped me set the table and make coffee. Dad then joined us. Mom said she's baking a cake to take along to Father Jorge's tea.

Later, as dad was helping mom fix some things in the house, I decided to take a walk to the fields and enjoy the cool morning air. I took my Canon camera along and shot a lot of cool photos. I even caught the tiniest delicate cobweb trapping the delicate dew drops that sparkled with the sun's rays! What a beautiful miracle! The low vegetation was covered in dew and I felt like walking in some enchanted land. I caught the sweet scent of freshly-mown grass, fresh earth, and pine. As I passed near the mango trees, I smelled the sweet fragrance of ripe mangoes. I kept walking and saw an immense green field of soybeans ahead. I walked along the edge so as to not get my pants wet from the dew. I could see that the plants reached up to my waist and a big higher. Then I looked toward the horizon and saw the road to Cascavel City. To my left is the gravel road leading to Água da Madeira River, a place I love to go for fishing and swimming in the falls. I also saw the thick woods down the valley where my secret waterfall is! I like to think that it's secret, because it's quite hard to reach. My last year's photos turned out amazing.

As I moved further down, I reached dad's orchard. Guavas. I spotted several ripe ones. The red kinds are the best mind you. I love to eat their pulp with their creamy seeds. I picked a white one, and it was ok, creamy and tasty. As I walk further along, I saw the thick forest and bamboo grove. Hey, let me take a look at dad's hidden pond! What a lovely peaceful pond! As kids, my brothers, cousins, and some workers used to swim here. Back then this entire area was simply a grassy pasture. But now everything is covered in thick vegetation and tall trees.

"Did you have a nice walk, son?" Mom was mending a pair of dad's pants. I told her of the guavas and mangoes and the lovely peaceful pond, the delicate dew drops trapped on cobwebs! Dad came back with a bunch of apples and what, strawberries? I didn't know we had strawberries in December. Maybe they're from the greenhouse. Mom told him that she's dying his hair today. He shrugged his shoulder and agreed with her. I decided to water mom's plants and picked some flowers to put in a vase. Mom told me she has some lovely marigolds in the back, near the acerola trees, which are full of red berries. I also picked some fern stems along with white, red, and orange roses.

At eleven o'clock dad told us, "Get ready to go to the steak house for lunch." I'd forgotten that on Sundays, they never cook in the house. Instead, they go to the town of Boa Vista, which is a fourteen-kilometer car ride from here.

No sooner than we had arrived at the Churrascaria, or steak house, the owner, Ferdinando came to greet us at our table. We normally have lunch early, about half past eleven. By midday this place is very crowded. As we were eating our churrasco on skewers, we saw Father Jorge and a nun. Just then I realized I've seen her before. Of course, she was on my flight yesterday!

We greeted him and met his sister. I mean, the nun who is his real sister who had come to spend Christmas holidays with him. We joined tables and had a great time. I ask Sister Joaquina about her life in São Paulo. She said she taught Portuguese in Colégio São Luiz, one of the most exclusive private schools in São Paulo. Father Jorge said he was going to be relocated to another parish soon. Lunch was pleasant and Father Jorge said he's dying to take a nap, then take care of the plants in the parish, because he loves gardening. Later, he would be having tea with some of the parishioners which he was expecting us to attend. Mom said I love swimming, fishing, and taking photos of waterfalls. Father Jorge's eyes widened.

"Seriously? Perhaps we could go there after lunch? What do you say young man?" They all turned to me. I shrugged my shoulders.

"Fine! But we need to get changed first." Here I meant, we needed proper shoes, hats, water bottles, a machette. After lunch, Father Jorge drove his sister back. She was going to prepare everything for the tea meeting. He was going to put some rustic clothes and boots and would meet me at the farm. Mom and dad thought this was crazy, but I said I love adventure.

"So, tell me where your secret waterfall is?"

"We're actually going to a more open waterfall, Father. The secret waterfall is hard to get to. Besides, we need to be back by three for the afternoon tea, remember?" He nodded and we headed towards Água da Madeira. We went down and crossed a bridge.

"Hey, I know this place! Early in the morning my sister and I were celebrating Mass around here today."

"Oh, yes! There's a chapel if you go up that road." We crossed another bridge. Then I told him to park the car under a shade. We walked along the soybean plantation and reached the patch of forest.

"Everywhere you turn here, you see soybean plantation, Ken." He looked around and wiped his large forehead with his white pristine handkerchief.

"Oh, yes. But in the past, most areas here were pastures." He smiled.

"That would have been more beautiful, I'd say." Just then we heard the water. He smiled. "Oh yes! We're getting close, I suppose!" We reached the edge of a forest and found a trail. Just then, he turned to me and told me to be quiet. He put his finger to his lips. We heard somebody talking near the river. He shook his head and smiled. "Ken, we've got it! What a lovely river!" He spoke very loudly on purpose. I was taken by surprise.

I then smiled and shouted, "Didn't I tell you so Father! This place is very nice for having a picnic!" He entered the forest and greeted a young couple who are fixing their hair and clothes.

"Oh, hi Father!" The man was putting his shoes back on.

"Father Jorge! What a pleasant surprise to see you again!" The young girl was blushing. Her face was as red as her blouse, which she had put on inside-out, poor thing.

"I see that you like swimming, huh?" He turned around, as if searching for God-knows what. Then I spotted it, a used condom. "I'll see you both next week, for confession Pedro and Marta!" He said.

"Of course, Father Jorge. We'd better be going. Have a great day, bye!" They rushed away. I pointed to the used condom. Father Jorge raised his brows.

"Well, at least she won't get pregnant, son." I looked into his face. "I mean, before she gets married to that young man." He dug a whole and took the used condom with a stick and buried it. "Now, how about exploring this lovely river, son?" We admired the wide river and deep pool. I told him the waterfall was higher up and covered by tall trees. So, we decide to take a look at it first. His clothes got tangled with the thorny vines.

"Wait, Father Jorge. Let me help you." I touched his back and released his shirt from the thorns.

"I can feel something in my butt as well. Can you check that for me, son?" I noticed more vines and touched his firm buttocks and removed the thorns. "Now I understand what you mean by coming prepared to this place." He smiled. "Hey, look at that beauty!" He pointed to the clearing with the rocks and the small waterfall. "That's the place where we're getting refreshed, son!" We reached the rock clearing and removed our boots. Father Jorge removed his hat, and opened his shirt. Oh, Jesus! I've never seen a shirtless priest before! "I can't wait to bathe in this cold crystal clear water, Ken!" He opened the buttons of his shirt, disclosing his furry chest, pink protruding nipples, and small belly. He removed his shirt and I noticed his small love handles. He had very hairy armpits and arms. He was not strong, but his limbs were still firm for his age. "Aren't you going to enter the water too, son?" He unbuckled his belt and undid the button of his pants, lowered his zippers and dropped his pants. I gasped as I admired his black cotton briefs.

Oh, God! To see a shirtless priest is one thing. Now, a priest in his underwear is just out of this world!

Holy fuck! I cannot believe I have an older Roman Catholic Priest just in his birthsuit in front of me now! He smiled.

"I can't get those wet, can I?" He smiled. "Let's enjoy this cold water!" He leaned against the stone wall where the falls drops water abundantly. It's no higher than he is. I had no alternative but to do the same.

"Wow! This water is freezing, Father!" He sat on a rock and the water hit his back and drenched his hair. I did the same.

"You could have taken off your glasses, son!" He smiled.

"If I do that, how on earth am I going to see you, Father." I fire back. He looked at me and smiled.

"Is this your first time seeing a naked older man, son?" I shook my head.

"No, Father. But this is my first time watching a naked older Roman Catholic priest." He smiled.

"Well, as you can see, I'm no different than you or any other men. God made us all the same. I just don't engage in sex. That's the only difference between you and me." He spread his hairy firm legs and revealed his long fat cock and large balls. "Wow, it feels cold in here!" He took his cock and balls. "My balls will shrink with this cold water, son." He smiled. "Just like yours." He looked at my shrunken testicles and long fat cock.

"You're right. How about taking a swim at the deeper pool, Father?" He smiled and shook his head.

"Here is fine, son. If we go there, people will see us. I don't want them to have the wrong ideas about us." He looked down and washes his face in the cold water. "People can be quite cruel to us priests sometimes."

"How do you mean, Father?" He smiled and folded his legs and hugged his knees.

"I have been wrongly accused, more times than I can remember of indecent exposure, just like here. Not to mention the times I was with young men, just above legal age, drinking and having a conversation in a bar, in the car, a park, or on a trail. Of course I don't mind people speaking of me. But it surely hurts at times. Some priests are afraid to go to the pool, to play soccer, to dance samba, or to travel."

"What, Father! Dance samba?" I smile. He smiles too.

"I love dancing samba, son." He looks up at the tall trees covering us. "God is just and perfect. But we men are imperfect and often have hearts as hard as a stone." He smiled and checked his golden waterproof watch. "Well, our time in Paradise of Eden is over, son! Shall we go back?" We exited the water and dried. I noticed the many wounds on Father Jorge's back and arms. I also noticed some wounds on his leg. I admired him as if admiring Christ Himself on the cross, wounded and bleeding.

"You've got a lot of cuts on your back, arms, and legs, Father." He put on his black pair of briefs.

"I'll ask my sister to put some ointment on." He put on his pants and shirt. I did the same.

"If I had some ointment here, I'd dress your wounds for you, Father." He looked in my eyes and smiled.