He was looking forward to attending the service, it was such a very old church.
This particular Sunday he would pray and give thanks in a church that was built sometime around the year six hundred and something. Apart from the challenge and thrill of visiting such a place, he felt that his religious fervour was waning. This little road trip may give it a boost. In this part of the world the roads where narrow and twisty as they wound through the countryside. The ageing map that he was referencing was probably out of date. There was also the probability that he had missed one or two roadside signs. He knew his time was running out and he would miss the service if he wasn’t careful.
As he took yet another sharp bend he saw an old man sitting on a gate, set back between the hedges. He had a heavy walking stick across his lap. He was obviously a local. This would be his opportunity to get proper directions. He pulled up and wound down his window. “Good morning!” he shouted, waving his map in the air. “I seem to be lost. Are you local, by chance?”
The man lifted his cane with a grin. He said “You could say that.”
He got out of the car and went up to him opening the map. He pointed to the tiny box on the map with the church’s name.
The old man squinted at the map.
“Apparently, it’s a medieval church,” the young man gushed. “It has a seventh-century sundial embedded in its walls.”
“You could be right about that.”
The younger man smiled. “Yes, it’s Anglo-Saxon; very old.”
The old man nodded.
The other said, “Do you know it?”
“I should. My sister was married there.”
“Oh! Really? How nice.”
“Not really. He was no good. Took off. Left her destitute, he did.” He spat into the hedge. “Hung herself!”
The young man winced. “Good Lord!”
“Don’t think the Good Lord had much to do with it.”
The young man looked at his watch. He saw he was now running very late.
The old man said, “You’re way off here, lad. Map’s no good. Older than me, I’d say.” He pointed up the road, in the direction the car was pointing. “Just carry on up here until you see two milk churns on the verge, take the next turning on the right. About half a mile down there and you’ll see a white cottage with the thatched roof. Turn left immediately after that and it’ll take you to the main road. You need to cross that, by turning left then right. Keep going on that road until you see the sign for a caravan park. Just after that turn right. You’ll get to a small roundabout, go straight over. On that road you’ll see some open fields on your left and a row of cottages on your right. Turn right at the end of the cottages and you’ll be on a gravel lane. Just along there on the left you’ll find the church.”
With that, he turned and climbed over the gate and took off across the field. The young man watched him go. He looked back at the map. It seemed that, regardless of how long he had been driving and how far he had travelled, looking at the map he realised he was very close to home. He got back in his car and made for home.
He was going right off this God thing.