Staring up at their new front door, John already figured that the postman would find it difficult to navigate. In fact, they would probably have to put a large sign just to verify to their friends that their GPS had not led them astray. It didn't look like anyone's front door that John had ever seen, being as though it was nearly twice as large as the average person and about three times as thick as their old wooden door that had been crumbling in their apartment. It was an impressive thing, though confusing for all who didn't know the exact situation.
"Are we going crazy?" Mary wondered, looping her arm around John's and leaning her head with some difficulty upon his short shoulder. The two of them stared up at the building that was now home, letting that question hang about in the air for a little while as they tried to answer it truthfully.
"Maybe." John decided at last.
"Getting near the hour." Mary commented with a chuckle. "Think the bells are going to ring?"
"If they do, we'll have to make sure to turn them off somehow. I'm not going to be waking up at five in the morning to the sound of the angels singing." John chuckled.
"Yes well, that's what you get for moving into an old church. I'm sure we'll have a lot more complications as time wears on." Mary presumed with a sigh.
"Like ghosts, maybe?" John suggested with a grin.
"You think ghosts can haunt a church? I'd think it would be too holy for that." Mary commented with a little frown, glancing up at the cross which stood proudly at the top of the tall steeple. It was something that would have to be removed eventually, to at least attempt to make the church into something of a home. The Watsons weren't overly religious, and to have their house speckled with crucifixes and holy statues would give a rather guilty impression. It was one thing to take over God's house and remodel, it was another to allow him to watch you do it. John knew they would never convert this thing into any sort of convincing home, though it was a lot better than living on top of each other in a single bedroom apartment. It was an upgrade to say the least, and with a little bit of renovating it could become their forever home. That is, when the money was made available. John's train of thought was interrupted when one of the movers went by, carrying two large boxes stacked haphazardly on top of each other. John winced, recognizing the topmost box as the one filled with their fragile dishes, those that had cost way too much to be disregarded in such a way!
"Careful with that." John suggested nervously, pulling Mary closer to his side to ensure the mover had plenty of space to maneuver.
"This ain't my first rodeo, sir." The mover assured, his muscular arms flexing and straining to hold both of the heavy boxes at once. "Though I will say, it's my first church."
"Yes well...it's a first for us too." John muttered awkwardly, quite unsure of how to respond in a way that would not waste his breath. Well that wasn't the response anyone was looking for, though now that it was out in the air he had no chance of receiving it. John sighed to himself, allowing his shoulders to slouch with some regret. The mover chuckled forcefully, though finally moved in through the door to deliver the boxes where they were beginning to be stacked up in the front entryway. It was a convenient drop spot, considering their front room was divided into a small vestibule. What they could make of this John could only imagine, perhaps a mud room? Or an indoor garden? With such an odd layout to their new house the possibilities really were endless. They may be the first family to ever attempt living in such a large open space, and so there were no rules to guide them on what to do and what to avoid completely.
"Let's go around back, darling. See what we can find in the gardens, the realtor talked of hydrangeas." Mary suggested, moving out of the way of two men who were carrying their small couch in throughout he front door, a truly pitiful piece of furniture when sized against the massive building. John followed her down the back alley way, a single lane path with cracked asphalt and fading painted lines. The church grounds had not been entirely sold off to the Watsons, only the church itself had to be partitioned off. Therefore the rest of the buildings, two of which sat along the opposite side of the alley on the edge of the large parking lot, were still owned by the diocese of the local city. John hadn't been told much about either of the buildings, only that they were direct neighbors with both. Running parallel to the alley was a large, multiple story schoolhouse. It was built as any office building might be, but with older bricks and more of an intricate structure towards the top. From where John stood he could make out about five stories, each with large and dusty windows that remained closed and forgotten. Supposedly the church had been host to a catholic school, a prominent one in its glory days. Though with enrollment struggling the town had consolidated all of the local Catholic schools into one central building, abandoning this magnificent structure and leaving it vacant. Obviously it was much too expensive for the Watsons to take over, not to mention perfectly useless to them. Unless the diocese intended to reopen it as a school, regaining its original purpose, the school would undoubtedly rot until a wrecking ball freed it from its misery. Turning his eyes away from the school with a sudden bout of sadness, John instead tried to focus on the neat landscaping that had been overtaken by weeds since the church had been on the market. At one point the flowers must have been well kept, though now in the summer seasons when all plants thrived it was hard to even determine what was supposed to be growing there and what was invasive.
"These might be the hydrangeas." Mary commented, pulling upon a long stem to free the rather sad flower from the mess of weeds. John nodded, even though he wasn't sure he could distinguish a hydrangea from any of the other plant growth within the soil. This would undoubtedly have to be Mary's job, considering she had the green thumb in the family.
"The flower beds will need some work." John decided rather obviously, turning his attention now from the garden and towards the last, unaddressed building upon the premises. This was more house-like than all of the others, a stone building that may be home to about two stories. It was relatively large, though tiny in comparison to its immediate neighbors, and had a nice fenced in yard with some more dedicated lawn care. Two magnificent trees sprouted from the grass, and around them everything seemed to be tidy and in order. It was as if someone had come to tend to the grounds, that is if the place really was empty.
"What do you suppose that is?" John wondered, nodding off towards the stone house to call Mary's attention. It was magnificently kept, so much so in comparison to the church and the school that it might best reflect the old and profiting days of the church's history.
"Oh, isn't that the place the priests used to live? What is it...a rectory!" Mary exclaimed at last, happy to have caught the word from the millions of others which were swirling throughout her brain.
"The priests actually lived here? God, talk about separating work from home." John grumbled.
"Let's try not to say God in any other context while here." Mary suggested. "Don't want to make him angry."
"Look at you, all superstitious! I thought you said this wouldn't bother you?" John pointed out with a laugh. Mary's cheeks flushed and she stomped one of her feet in protest, though John's laughter wasn't so easily stifled out.
"I'm not being superstitious, I'm just being cautious! Isn't this holy grounds or something like that? I don't want to take any chances." Mary defended with a little frown.
"What's going to happen, will our Heavenly Father send down a lightning bolt to smite me?" John chuckled.
"John!" Mary whined. "Be careful!"
"You're going crazy on me, I can already sense it. There's too much old lady energy in this place, and it's infecting you." John decided at last. Mary groaned, shuffling off down the alley towards the side door of the church, another large entryway that was designed for use of the parking lot crowd. As he walked John stared once more at the rectory, noticing more and more signs that they may not be alone.
"Mary, the realtor didn't mention anything about neighbors, did she?" John wondered nervously.
"Just that the neighborhood is pretty quiet." Mary remembered, hopping across the large cracks in the asphalt as if it was her version of hopscotch.
"Not so much the neighborhood...more like the backyard." John corrected. Mary turned her eyes to the rectory once more, following John's gaze to the welcome mat which was just visible under the front door.
"You don't think it's occupied?" Mary wondered nervously, to which John remained intentionally silent. Certainly she was thinking the same things he was, now wondering if they were going to have to deal with some Catholic priest in the midst of the renovation dreamland. How could they justify desecrating these holy ground with a nose constantly upturned in their direction?
"I sure hope not." John said at last. Perhaps they would get lucky; perhaps the rectory was home to another couple who had taken advantage of the cheap prices. Maybe they were neighbors with other opportunity seekers, and not anyone who was too caught up in the Catholic church?
"Might want to bring a cake over there just in case, to introduce ourselves." Mary suggested.
"I thought introducing wasn't our job? They should be bringing over a casserole, not us." John protested with a little pout.
"Oh stop that, if it's occupied it's probably an old priest. He probably doesn't know how to cook, nor does he have the money to afford charity." Mary insisted, waving around her new set of keys to try to find the one to fit their new side door.
"Maybe it's not a priest." He said hopefully.
"A squatter then?" Mary chuckled.
"Or people just like us?" John muttered.
"You heard the realtor; both of those are still owned by the diocese. They wouldn't rent out that poor man's house, not unless he was relocated to a better church." Mary pointed out. John nodded, having expected such an answer from his more logical wife.
"Perhaps." Was all he could manage, interrupted when the clicking of the lock announced their reentry into the house. With so many doors and windows John was sure he would forget to lock at least one of them in the night, leading him to think a security system might be necessary. This may be a quiet neighborhood but it was certainly flanked by some questionable developments, who knows how many of the residents had a grudge against the new home owners? John expected their welcome to be abbreviated, especially by those who used to attend church in what was now their home. The turnover from the closing to the sale had been relatively quick, and there were certainly some hard feelings going around the regular crowd. The last thing he needed was a gang of old ladies breaking in through the back door to inflict their wrath! As he stepped inside John made sure to lock the door behind him, following Mary up the short metal staircase towards another large lobby, one which separated the main church from the inflow of visitors that would frequent the halls. It was a haunting feeling, with the vibrations of faded footsteps and the memories of past conversations lingering still in the wood work and he old brown carpeting. Still hanging upon the wall was a large bulletin board, displaying the church's closing with a large orange sign plastered right on top of the yellowing advertisements for charity dinners and fish fries long gone. So many people, so many memories...soon to be replaced. 

The movers weren't very neat, though in the end all of the Watson's possessions were moved into the church one way or another. The furniture was scattered about the main church, tucked against the altar with some boxes loaded on top of the large marble slab. The pews were already moved away, some vanished and others tucked towards the sides of the church walls, out of the way and hiding in corners where the colorful display of stained glass light could not touch. John still wasn't sure what they would do with these long benches, considering they weren't very comfortable and only further reminded the two of their house's previous use. If those busts of strange balding saints hidden in alcoves and the large mural of Jesus Christ on the wall didn't already secure the misrepresentation! There would need to be some serious redecoration, a task that made even John a bit guilty. How could he pay someone to paint over poor Jesus's face, this painting which at one point brought so many people a sense of peace, a sense of calm? There was something sacrilegious in the whole process, though he knew that he would have to overcome this guilt if he ever wanted to make this church a home. Certainly they couldn't allow Jesus to stare at them through their daily lives, especially not with that strange look upon his holy face?
"John, check it out!" called Mary's voice from the balcony above. A deep, potent note of an organ quickly followed her exclamation, and when John turned he could see her little blonde head from over the railing.
"The organ still works?" John chuckled. "I figured they'd have unplugged it or something."
"You can't unplug an organ." Mary corrected with a scoff. "See those tubes on the ceiling? I think it's their primitive speaker system." More pounding at the keys followed her guess, and the hideous sound of uncoordinated notes and unpracticed fingers filled the church with a dreadful, haunting sound.
"Maybe some more practice is needed." John suggested.
"I guess. But this space up here is really nice, not as open as the rest of the church. Maybe a good bedroom?" Mary suggested, at last scrambling away from the organ and leaning heavily upon the railing. John winced, not so sure they should trust the architecture after having gotten a glimpse at the deteriorating exterior. All the same, her weight wasn't enough to send her tumbling down to the church below.
"I'm okay with that, so long as we could get the bedframe up there." John agreed.
"Well they got the organ up." Mary muttered. John nodded, scratching the back of his head and wondering just how they managed to fit such a massive instrument up the little set of stairs that went winding towards the upper tier.
"Well, the mattress will make do until we can mimic the masters of old." John decided at last.
"How primitive." Mary sighed.
"We'll have to be primitive for a little while. But eventually our savings accounts will build back up, and before you know it we'll be living large." John said with a little smile, making his way up the stairs towards the balcony and joining his wife at the railing. It was indeed a beautiful building, and standing here with such a view of the old church nearly sent shivers down his spine. The stained glass windows were still intact, shining multiple colors into the empty hardwood floors below. As the sun was setting they grew more vibrant, until it looked as if a mosaic had been splatted upon the floor. Large pillars supported the sloping ceiling, the two walls jutting forward at sharp angles to form the expected triangle at the top, with cross beams keeping everything structurally sound. The altar was still decorated with forgotten fabrics and faces of saints hidden in the shadows, crucifixes painted on the walls and the large mural of Jesus overlooking the pair. John dared to make eye contact with the painting, trying to gain at least some dominance over the son of God.
"Think I'll go to Hell if I kissed you while he watched?" John wondered, wrapping his arm around his wife and giving her his most teasing smile.
"Don't joke about that!" Mary protested again, though she chuckled as she drew nearer, allowing for their first kiss within the walls of their new house.
"I think it'll be worth it." John presumed. "Besides, how can we start a family if we're saving room for Jesus?"
"John, you rascal." Mary protested with a little laugh, batting her hands at her husband as a makeshift punishment. John only chuckled some more, allowing their lips to linger longer together within the beautiful myriad of colored light. It was ever so romantic if you forgot about all the eyes which were watching from every corner of the church. Whatever would have become of the night was interrupted harshly by what might have been another strike of the organ, had anyone else been within range of the instrument. As John listened to the note again he suddenly realized it was no sort of instrument, rather a doorbell.
"I think we have a visitor." Mary muttered, pulling away and looking rather worried as she listed off the possibilities in her head.
"New neighbors?" John wondered.
"I hope not." Mary grumbled. All that was left in their power was to go and answer the door, which in this maze of a building was a lot more difficult than it should have been. John and Mary went to at least two wrong doors before finally settling on the side entrance, approaching a tall dark figure waiting for them on the other side of the shadowed glass. John hesitated, not recognizing the silhouette to be anyone they've ever known in their lifetime. It was no old friend, no mover who had forgotten another signature. At this time of night, who knows who might be waiting at their door? John wondered if he should be armed for this first encounter, though it was too late to turn back now. The visitor had to have spotted the approaching pair by now, and if he had anything heinous on his mind then certainly they would have to resort to physical combat as their defensive mechanism. John had no choice but to approach the door, clicking the lock and opening the glass door just enough to glance at the man who stood on the front stoop. It might have been a relief to see the white collar poking out of the man's shirt, considering he was probably a man of God and not a thief. On the other hand the man's presence surely meant that the rectory was occupied, and the look on his face made it ever so clear that he wasn't too keen on the presence of his new neighbors.