Catalina had no idea what was going on. She was sent by her mother to go shopping for food, and the church happened to be on the way to the market. There were five grown men, dressed in rags, and they were shouting at the top of their lungs. Surprisingly, she could make out their ravings, and they sounded awfully similar to the hymns she had once heard the choirboys in the church sing. She had wanted to sing in the church—how wonderful it would be to have her voice heard by everyone she knew. For weeks, she had practiced, but her dreams were cruelly dashed when her parents told her only boys could become a choirboy. She thought it was unfair.

While her attention was drawn by the five shouting tramps, a pungent smell assaulted her nostrils, and something large bumped into her side, causing her to nearly drop her basket. Her foot slipped, and before she could hit the ground, a dirty hand grabbed her shoulder and propped her up. “Oops, sorry about that,” a gruff voice said. It belonged to an old man with black dirt covering most of his body. After steadying her, the old man left and joined the five tramps singing in the plaza.

Catalina wiped at her shoulder where a greasy stain had been left on her smock. She cringed when a wheezy voice joined the horrendous singing—if it could be called that. She looked around and found many bystanders like herself who were engaged in watching the tramps. She walked up to a woman wearing a dress, one of her neighbors that she knew. “Mrs. Grana, why are those men reciting hymns as if their lives depend on it?”

“I’m not sure, Cat,” Mrs. Grana said and shook her head. “It started with one tramp. When he started shouting, I nearly had a heart attack. Then another one joined in. And now there’s four more.” She shook her head and tutted, but it was hard to hear her over the shouting of the tramps. “I wonder why the church is tolerating this. Is it because they’re shouting hymns?”

At that moment, another tramp walked by. Catalina mustered up her courage and waved. “Excuse me.” She walked up to the side of the approaching tramp. “Mister, are you going to sing too?”

The tramp blinked before nodding.

Catalina looked up at him with round eyes. “May I ask why?”

“If we sing, we’ll be given food,” the tramp said. With that, he rushed forward, not letting Catalina have another chance to ask any question. He soon joined the six tramps and paused a bit, only singing once he determined which verse they were on.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Catalina lowered her hand which had been ready to grab onto the tramp’s sleeve. She had hesitated since it was dirty, but now it was too late. However, there was an approaching line of tramps. She recognized one of them, a beggar who usually sat near a bakery. She had greeted him once, but her mother had pulled her away. Beggars really would be moved by food, but who was going to give it to them? The church? She went back to Mrs. Grana and said, “The church is going to give them food if they sing hymns.”

“Is that true?” Mrs. Grana asked and fiddled with her gloves. “There aren’t any special holidays, but perhaps the church has food that is about to spoil and decided to donate it to the poor. Go, go home and tell everyone you know that the church is going to give food to anyone who sings in the plaza.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Catalina said and ran home without stopping. Her mother gave her a weird look upon seeing the basket was empty. “Mom, Dad! The church is giving out free food to anyone who sings in the plaza! There’s already a lot of people there; if we don’t hurry, there won’t be any left for us!”

***

Leo X furrowed his brow. He stood up and walked to the window. Upon seeing the massive crowd outside, he froze. After a brief moment, he went back to his desk and rang his bell. A nun walked into the room. “Yes, Your Holiness?” she asked with a strange expression on her face.

“Why are there so many people singing outside of the church?” Leo X asked.

The nun pursed her lips. “Your Holiness, isn’t this your idea? You promised to give food to anyone who sang outside in the plaza. At least, that’s what Father Matteo told us.”

Leo X’s face contorted. The nun could almost see question marks floating up from the pope’s head. “Tell Father Matteo to come see me!”

The nun left, and not much longer, a priest hurried into the room. He bowed. “Your Holiness was looking for me?”

“What do you mean we’re giving food to anyone who sings?” Leo X said, his eyes locked onto the priest’s.

Matteo gulped. “I went outside to ask why people were singing in front of the church. They told me that you promised to give them food if they did.” He hesitated and lowered his head. “You … didn’t promise them that?”

“I didn’t!” Leo X climbed to his feet and checked out the window again. The plaza was completely filled. There were even more people singing than there were people who came to his coronation! “Get rid of them all! Tell them to disperse! Those rumors were spread by some troublemakers!”

Matteo swallowed. “Your Holiness, I’m afraid if we tell them that we won’t be giving them food, they’ll storm the church. If I had to take a guess, the whole city has gathered here today….”

Leo X sat back down and rubbed his temples. What was going on!?

***

Mr. Skelly scratched his skull. He turned towards the rare skeleton that could speak. “Say,” he said, “didn’t I only tell the tramps to start singing? How is it that the whole city has gathered?”

The skeleton stared straight ahead. “What are your next orders?” it asked, completely ignoring Mr. Skelly’s question.

Mr. Skelly scratched his skull again. What was he going to do now?