"Now you sit down." Vinya shoved Nina into her makeup chair, "I don't know who did that face of yours, but no more ugly makeup for my Nina. Now you belong to Auntie Vinya, and she is going to take good care of you."

"Is this going to hurt?" Nina asked with a tentative laugh.

"Auntie Vinya make no guarantees, but so far today we poke out only one eye.”

"That's not funny," Nina replied as Vinya laid her head back and started wiping off her amateurish home makeup job.

"Yes, it is," Vinya chuckled. "You should totally see the look on your face right now.”

The old makeup was soon gone and a fresh coat of foundation applied. Vinya pulled the cap off an eyeliner pen with her teeth and started applying it to Nina's eyelids. For some reason, Nina thought this was a good time to talk.

"So, anything interesting going on in here?"

"Hold still," Vinya responded, still clutching the cap in her teeth. "We're watching the Washington feed. Emma Poissonier is totally crushing on the history nerd they have her interviewing."

Nina laughed, "Really?"

"I said hold still. And yeah. She’s flirting with him every time they go off air." The eye was done. "There, now you can open." 

Nina blinked a few times, then craned her neck to see the view screens in the control room.

"Oh my gosh. She's totally hitting on him."

“You good for one more hit?” Emma asked Dr. Polinski. “My producer says they want you to hang on while the cardinals get sworn in and explain the oath.”

“Sure, I don’t have any plans until after lunch.”

Emma wondered if that was an invitation.  “Well then, we’ll just have to see how much of your time we can take up.”

Polinski laughed. “Well, with such pleasant company, how can I refuse?”

Score!

She let the accent slip in the direction of Scarlett O’Hara. “Why, that might be the nicest thing a guest ever said to an inquiring camera girl.”

The earpiece buzzed back to life. It was NaQuan. “Quit flirting and get ready. Your new boyfriend needs to make some sense of what we’re seeing.”

Emma blushed and put the Yankee voice back on. “That obvious?”

“There’s literally a bet here on how long it takes him to ask for your number. If it makes you feel better, I bet on the side of true love.” There was raucous laughter in the background, “Now finish your job and then you can make eyes at him all you want.”

“Got it.” She radioed back.

“Good. You’re on as soon as Priscilla can throw to you. Ask loverboy what the cardinals are saying when they put their hands on the Bible.”

The line went dead for a second and then Priscilla could be heard getting ready to make the transfer.

“Back to business,” Emma said to Polinski. “They want you to talk about the oath they’re taking on the Bible.”

Priscilla’s voice rang into her earpiece “…and now, to make a bit more sense of these archaic rites, we go back to Emma Poissonier with Dr. Aloysius Polinski in Washington. Emma?”

“Thanks, Priscilla.” Emma said as professionally as she could, “Now Dr. Polinski, we’re seeing all the cardinals take an oath right now. What exactly are they saying?”

“Well,” Polinski said studiously, “In Latin, the oath is ‘Et ego – first name -  Cardinalis – last name -  spondeo, voveo, ac iuro. Sic me Deus adiuvet et haec Sancta Dei Evangelia, quae manu mea tango.’”

“Wow, you can do that from memory?” Emma marveled

“I said stop flirting.” NaQuan boomed.

Polinski laughed. “It comes with the job. Anyway, it translates ‘And I, name of cardinal, promise, vow and swear. Thus may God help me and these Holy Gospels which I touch with my hand.’ It’s not all that ancient - there’s been some oath for a while, but this one was standardized by John Paul the Great in his apostolic constitution. After all of their eminences recite their oath, the next thing you’ll see is the Master of Liturgical Ceremonies declaring ‘Extra Omnes!’ which is literally Latin for ‘Everybody Out.’”

Emma chuckled, “So basically it’s a fancy way of say, ‘Ya’ll git!’”

“Flirting!” NaQuan bellowed in her ear.

“Not even all that fancy. A lot of these rites go back to the times when secular powers would try to influence conclaves from the outside. So, the Church took some very practical measures to ensure that the undiluted will of the Holy Spirit could-”

“He’s veering off fact.” Priscilla said through the earpiece. “Journalism, please!”

Emma had worked around Priscilla long enough to know what phraseology like that implied. Usually, it meant she’d heard a trigger and wanted the panelist eaten alive.

Emma felt herself starting to hyperventilate. This was not a time she wanted to do this.

“It’s really quite a spectacle.” Polinski continued, oblivious. “They slam the two huge doors at the front of the chapel, and then everything goes silent.”

“Emma,” Priscilla buzzed into her ear

Polinski was still running, “After that we just wait for the smoke from the Sistine Chapel chimney. Black for an inconclusive ballot, white for a new pope.”

Emma looked into Polinski’s eyes. They looked so – honest. He was just here to describe the process, and it wasn’t his job to jump through Priscilla’s hoops.

“Emma!” Priscilla crackled.

Emma’s mind snapped into focus. This job was the only thing standing between her and a one-way ticket back to Louisiana. No way in hell she was letting herself jeopardize this. She was never going back.

Not even for Polinski and his honest eyes.

She took a deep breath and locked her gaze on him.

“But aren’t these rituals just part of the church’s problem?” she asked. “I mean, don’t all the gold and incense just communicate that the Church cares more about glitz than people?”

Polinski’s expression fell, and he seemed to rock back on his heels. “Well,” he stammered, thrown off by the change of pace, “a lot of Catholics value the tradition in these ceremonies.”

The poor man looked like he was staring into the headlights of an oncoming pickup – which in fairness, he kind of was.

Emma pressed further. “But the church is shrinking. Maybe some people value this, but normal people see this and wonder if their money is just buying another gold chalice.”

“What I meant,” Polinski tried to get back on his talking points. Then he lost them. “What I meant was…I…umm…”

She had him flailing. Perfect execution.

“And that’s all from Washington,” a much-happier Priscilla said through the earpiece, thankfully ending the spectacle. “Now with more from St. Peter’s square, let’s check in with Madison Rylander.”

The red light on the camera clicked off, and Emma let out a sigh.

“Thanks for your time, Professor,” she said before Polinki could react further. “We’ll be in touch if we need anything more.” She turned as fast as she could and headed for the news van. If she stayed here any longer, she might cry – and nobody got to see that.

“Wait!” Polinski shouted after her. “Hold on! What was that? Did I say something?”

Emma kept walking, “That’s showbiz, Doc.” She shouted without looking back. “Nothing personal.” 

'Basic Cable" text copyright © 2020 Adam Brickley. All rights reserved.