He jerked himself violently to his feet.
"Ford!"
Ford looked up from where he was sitting in a corner humming to himself. He always found the actual traveling-through-space part of space travel rather trying.
"Yeah,?" he said.
"If you're a researcher on this book thing and you were on Earth, you must have been gathering material on it."
"Well, I was able to extend the original entry a bit, yes."
"Let me see what it says in this edition then. I've got to see it."
"Yeah, okay." He passed it over again.
Arthur grabbed hold of it and tried to stop his hands shaking. He pressed the entry for the relevant page. The screen flashed and swirled and resolved into a page of print. Arthur stared at it.
"It doesn't have an entry!" he burst out.
Ford looked over his shoulder.
"Yes, it does," he said, "down there, see at the bottom of the screen, just above Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon 6."
Arthur followed Ford's finger, and saw where it was pointing. For a moment it still didn't register, then his mind nearly blew up.
"What? Harmless? Is that all it's got to say. Harmless! One word!"
Ford shrugged.
"Well, there are a hundred billion stars in the Galaxy and only a limited amount of space in the book's microprocessors," he said, "and no one knew much about the Earth, of course."
"Well, for God's sake, I hope you managed to rectify that a bit."
"Oh yes, well, I managed to transmit a new entry off to the editor. He had to trim it a bit, but it's still an improvement."
"And what does it say now?" asked Arthur.
"Mostly harmless," admitted Ford with a slightly embarrassed cough.
"Mostly harmless!" shouted Arthur.
"What was that noise?" hissed Ford.
"It was me shouting," shouted Arthur.
"No! Shut up!" said Ford. "I think we're in trouble."
"You think we're in trouble!"
Outside the door were the clear sounds of marching footsteps.
"The Dentrassis?" whispered Arthur.
"No, those are steel-tipped boots," said Ford.
There was a sharp ringing rap on the door.
"Then who is it?" said Arthur.
"Well," said Ford, "if we're lucky it's just the Vogons come to throw us in to space."
"And if we're unlucky?"
"If we're unlucky," said Ford grimly, "the captain might be serious in his threat that he's going to read us some of his poetry first . . ."
Mostly harmless. That's what today has been. Nothing too exciting. Nothing too terrible. It's Ash Wednesday. Working at my new office afforded me the opportunity to go to a short prayer service around noon to receive the imposition of ashes. That's something I haven't been able to do in many years. And tonight (actually in about an hour), I'll be attending a healing Ash Wednesday service at my wife's church.
Last year's Ash Wednesday came a few days after my father died. I was still processing all those raw emotions at the time, and I remember the church service I attended being difficult. I think we sang the song, "Just A Closer Walk with Thee," and by the last verse ("When my feeble life is o'er, / Time for me will be no more; / Guide me gently, safely o'er / To Thy kingdom shore, to Thy shore."), I was an absolute mess. Weeping in the pew. It was a little embarrassing.
I tend to invest myself quite a bit in the whole Lenten/Easter narrative of betrayal/sin/suffering/death/forgiveness/redemption/resurrection. It speaks to my inner Catholic school boy. I used to wear my black smudge quite proudly every Ash Wednesday when I was a kid. When I saw other people in public with the black smudge, I felt like I was in some kind of secret society. (Remember, I was eight or nine.)
I will be in a better place at this evening's service than I was last year. I can't guarantee that I won't cry at some point. As I said, the whole Lenten/Easter story hits me pretty hard. Loss is with us all the time. Big ones and small ones. Still kind of adjusting to the changes at work. Every day, I look at my sister's old work badge, which has moved with my to my new office. I think of how hard she would have taken the closure of the surgery center. Then, I say a little prayer of thanks that she didn't have to go through it. It would have broken her heart. It broke mine.
However you choose to commemorate (or not commemorate) Ash Wednesday this evening, Saint Marty wishes all of you peace in your homes forgiveness in your hearts, and joy in your lives. That's a prayer we can all get behind.
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