Packaged for the Pope

Hullooo, Fathuh…!!!” The familiar Laurence Fishburne-sounding voice coming from behind me caught me by surprise.
I was then contemplating a poster welcoming Pope Francis to the Philippines. It read: ‘Mabuhay Holy Father! Thank you for your compassion.’
I turned around trying not to look startled.
“Ed! Wow, your ninja skills are unbeatable!”
“Gee, thanks Fathuh,” he blushed and gasped with pride.
But what really surprised me was how an elephant-sized ninja could have managed to sneak stealthily behind me undetected.
“I also like the youthful get-up!” I observed my long-time American journalist friend from head to hooves.
He looked like one of Gloria’s (the star hippo in Madagascar) suitors that had just surfaced from underwater. Sweat, instead of water, gushed from every pore and literally revitalized the wilted flowers and vegetation designs on his colorful XXXL-sized Hawaiian shirt.
“Suh yeh noticed? ‘Coz uh was given a special assignment to cover the youthful reception of his Holiness Pope Francis!”
“Wow! Congratulations! Then, you must have special tickets for that, Ed.”
“Thaaat I dooh, Fathuh!” Ed proudly pulled out a steaming Ziploc from his breast pocket. The container seemed like it came straight out of a Microwave. If it had not been for the plastic, the documents would have grown mushrooms by now.
[GULP!!!] “Passes for all events?” My eyes popped out with envy.
“Yup! Ar yeh saying yeh don’t have any, Fathuh?” He raised a bewildered eyebrow at me.
“Nope!” I confessed.
“Zat possible? Yer a priest, right? Don’t ye have some special thingies fer the events?”
“Haven’t you read, Ed? They’re expecting six million people or more over at Luneta!”
Despite the air-conditioning unit of the airport lobby, Ed continued perspiring like a lost explorer in Doralandia.
“Six mheellyheehoon peeeople…! That’s why ehm here, Fathuh! That’s why ehm totally packaged for the Pope’s visit.”
“Packaged…?” I asked.
“Uh mean, ehm ready to document this spiritual-historical event! Ye nehm it, I guht it. Lhuk…!”
He surprised me by unstrapping what seemed like a multi-pocketed belt or Velcro net to which one can attached numerous things. His belly must have been concealing it from me all the time.
“I have two top of the line digital cameras…, lenses…, five 2 terabyte thumb drives for all the photos, digital voice recorders… uhm, oh yeh, 5 power banks with power for three months…ah, wat else have I guht, Fathuh… leh mee seeee….”
I was in stitches watching Ed pulling one device after the other. I could not even discern if they were popping out straight from his belt or his tummy. He was like a netted humpback whale, except that this one was out of the water, flaunting its barnacles of gadgets from front, back and center.
“Watta yeh laughin’ at, Fathuh?” He stopped his gadgetry showcase when he caught me losing my breath.
“No… [GASP] Nothing…, I just couldn’t help it. But how are you going to swim…ehr, I mean wade through six million people wearing ALL that?”
“Swim, yeh jokin’, Fathuh. Ehm goin’ to fly in…,”
Suddenly a flying whale crossed my imagination and I could no longer contain my laughter.
“Nah, sehriosly, Fathuh. Uh have an ID allowin’ me to fly in by chopper, AND believe me, with the Pope Himself.”
“But Ed, you’ll need a chopper all for yourself with all the stuff you’re carrying.”
“Hey, uh looost 15 full pounds just tah prepare muhself for this event.”
“Congratulations! No wonder I can now see your ears, Ed,” I snorted cheerfully as he joined in with a bellowing giggle that filled the lobby.
It was really something to see Ed laughing because almost every flab of his body vibrated with laughter. When he tried to stop, you would most likely continue because some part of him was still moving.
“Really great to bump into you again, Fathuh. So how ar yeh preparin’ for Pope Francis’ visit.”
“I guess I’ll bring a cap….”
“Have that,” he interrupted me.
“…water bottle and some pocket-size power snacks since there will be no way for me to move in and out of that crowd….”
“Got that too!”
“Maybe a small medicine kit and….”
“…that too.”
“And before all that, encourage people to pray and offer sacrifices for the Pope and…,” I said.
“Uhuh, of course, that’s important.”
“…and the best would be to encourage them to go to confession.”
“Ooops, I didn’t have that on my list, at least not yet, until now,” Ed admitted.
“And doing corporal and spiritual works of mercy that help foster the Pope’s call for mercy and compassion.”
“Thanks for remindin’ me, Fathuh, I guess these spiritual thingies are more important, at least they come first, right?”
“Right….”
“FLIGHT JD432 BOUND FOR TACLOBAN IS NOW READY FOR BOARDING…”
“Geez, time flies, Fathuh, that’s mah ride.”
“Tacloban?”
“Yep, gotta go early for prep works befuh the Pope gets there!”
Ed, snapped back his multi-gadget belt and shook my hand, “Great tah see yeh again, Fathuh. Until Luneta?”
“You’re one lucky guy, Ed! So until Luneta.”
Some thirty minutes later the PA system announced: “FLIGHT EF136 BOUND FOR DAVAO IS NOW READY FOR BOARDING…”
I stood up and picked up my hand-carry items. Then I noticed an object underneath the seat where Ed sat. I bent down to pick it up.
The plastic bag was completely sealed but its contents perspired a thin layer of moisture. The label read: SPECIAL MEDIA PASSES FOR PAPAL VISIT.
“Ed, you’re my super Guardian Angel!”