Fox doesn’t, but Father Jeremy might.

As I said, I thought it made sense to break up the retelling of what’s happening in Yaughton into separate parts, and those parts appear to correspond to some main stories we follow; how convenient and not at all planned. The first villager we see a lot of is Father Jeremy, who is doing his best to allay the fears of the village as a mysterious illness seems to be sweeping the valley.

As we journey into the village and explore the houses (does it count as breaking & entering if the residents aren’t even on the same plane of existence?) we see half the village is listening to the advice to stay home with radios and TVs turned on, the other half is packing up and looking to journey out into the big wide world. You know, as you do when someone says you might be infected with an unknown highly contagious strain of mystery pathogen.

“Margaret, why aren’t the kids in school?“
“Oh they’ve caught that new super virus that potentially infects everyone just by LOOKING at them.” “perfect, pack the car then, we’re heading to camber sands!”

After living through the Covid Pandemic, this is one of the most realistic things I’ve ever seen in a video game.

Father Jeremy is our first voice of reason we can put a name to. He’s the local priest so my bias was showing and I expected there to be sermons about God and repenting; his only sermon was “Damn, things are crazy. Kiss your loved ones, but don’t actually kiss them because y’know, disease! Be safe, be smart.” Personally, I think Father Jeremy has his own demons, because that is a pragmatic view, not a religious one. Whoever heard of a religious leader that when confronted with something serious said “Oh Damn, let’s be sensible” and not “Pray and do nought else you filthy sinners!”

I swear to god if we find out Father Jeremy is actually behind this and that’s why he seems so chill I will be furious. So far though, he seems a good guy. Venturing into houses and following the ball of light (“Excuse me Constable, I was merely following a glowing ball of light to show me secrets and memories of the residents here, that’s why I’m in Mrs Dunstable’s bedroom. Blow into that tube? Of course I can chap.”) shows that Jeremy has been making the rounds to check on the villagers who show no symptoms and is calling up those that do and keeping track of how they are. This leads to some rather intense moments, that show us how serious this is, and why Father Jeremy Wheeler is the head of the church in Yaughton.

The first look we get at this? He’s unflappable so far. We enter a house and we get our back story. Jeremy has discovered a lady in the house who isn’t the homeowner, and who he thought had left town at the beginning. Amanda tells Jeremy how she was in the car with her husband Neal and their two sons, Georgie and Ben when they found they couldn’t leave town. They turned around, but her young boys were suddenly overcome with nosebleeds and headaches. Spying a neighbours house was open, they detoured, hoping to clean the boys up and that whoever was home would understand. It turns out the house was entirely empty, so Neal took the boys upstairs, also telling Amanda he might let them nap whilst they plan their next move. Amanda informs Jeremy all this whilst sobbing, and it isn’t until Jeremy pushes her that we understand why this was so awful for her.
“And?”
“That was six hours ago. He never came back down. I’ve been too frightened to look.”
“Why don’t we go together? I can hold your hand if you like?”

Another point for Father Wheeler here. There’s no telling what horrors await upstairs, but he knows Amanda needs to see, and that she can’t do this alone.
More of Jeremy’s story unravels and not necessarily in chronological order. As he makes his rounds, he seems to be aware that this is the end for a lot of people, and spends a lot of time comforting his flock. I have to hand it to him as well, there isn’t anything over the top holy, until people ask for it. Otherwise he’s just there as a friend keeping them happy and calm until the end takes them.

Apparently he is no stranger to this either. An altercation between Jeremy and Wendy reveals that when Mary, Stephen’s aunt was ill and suffering, Jeremy visited her often. Not only that, the local doctor noted that following her death, there was an irregularity in her morphine dosages. Either Father Jeremy has been providing mercy killings as well, or he just happens to have access to high end painkillers and is leaving them laying around. He’s confronted about it, and pulls the old fashioned move of “You found out I did something illegal by you yourself doing something illegal? How very illegal of you. Never mind, I have parishioners to attend to.” I have to say, hats off to him. If his biggest crime is mercy killing dying people, and then gaslighting his way out of it, I’m all for him.

We also learn that birds have been falling out of the sky before this all went down, so whilst All dogs may go to heaven, Birds are apparently unworthy.

We have a momentary sense of foreshadowing when Jeremy meets Stephen’s uncle, Frank Appleton. They discuss whatever is happening, and Jeremy points out that they will likely send planes over to help. Frank is just as cheerful as his nephew it seems, because his comment is that yes they will, but it will be to destroy Yaughton, not save it.

Jeremy’s faith is finally tested when he is present to witness a rapturing. Not only that, but it leaves him in what I would tactfully describe as “a really shit situation.” When visiting local man Howard in his basement, Jeremy tries to console him as he becomes more irate. Howard reacts with force, and the priest is left with a broken ankle, immobilised at the bottom of some wooden stairs, in a basement, in a town that is currently operating a 24-hour Stay Inside rule. When he begs Howard to get help, the Light decides now is a great time to Rapture Howard. He has nothing else going on surely.

It’s tough to imagine what must be going through Jeremy’s head in this exact moment. Honestly, ignore the obvious “OH MY GOD MY LEG” and think about him personally, his background. Imagine you’ve lived your life by a particular set of tenets that date back thousands of years, that their very origin is a constant source of debate. Imagine these tenets, that no one can ever fully agree on either, supposedly grant you enjoyment and peace in the next life, but they mean you may be ridiculed or suffer in this life. All this, and it’s purely based on faith, there’s no big “Hey these are my rules, I’ll see you next time round!” moment, you just have to believe. Imagine that all your life, you’ve worked your ass off for this supposed second coming, this promise of it all being worth it, and when it does, you are left behind. Not only just left behind, you’re left in pain at the bottom of a house that is now for the foreseeable future abandoned and isolated. Frustrating to say the least, right? It is itself a miracle that Jeremy didn’t take a deep breath and just shout “FUUUUUUUUCK” as loud as he could. No instead our guy just relies once more on faith, whimpering a quick, “Oh god, Oh my god…Please Help me.”

I would think that would be the end of Father Jeremy, but apparently not. We next encounter his glowing figure as it limps it’s way towards the church. As you’d expect, he is quite aggressive, as he grits his teeth and drags himself forwards. I’m not sure if he himself can see the ball of light that’s straight up yoinking the Yaughton-ians, but he has an interaction that makes me think he can. “Are you there? Can you hear me – are you out there you bastard? You got them all. You got them all. Jesus Christ, help me oh Lord, give me strength. Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Is anyone still there? Oh, you’re still here then. I should have expected that. Come on then, let’s get this over and done with. I’ve got my parishioners to attend to.”

Before we carry on, can we appreciate what has apparently become a badass catchphrase? “I’ve got parishioners to attend to.” He straight up doesn’t – they’re all gone, as he himself states, but it’s just such a badass line to deliver when faced with this unknown entity that’s snatching people up. Picturing this grizzled, limping priest who started the week, probably started the day all prim and proper, looked after, clean shaven and is no doubt looking worse for wear now. I imagine the hair that was swept back is now falling and bedraggled, a five o’clock shadow darkens the chin and his cassock (Do priests even still wear all black cassocks like Father Brown?) is torn and dusty. I have to say Father Jeremy has jumped up in my books and is neck and neck as coolest priest ever with Dominic Cooper’s take of Preacher.

We follow the light into the church, which is also gorgeous. I’m thinking forget the blogging and standard jobs, let me become a priest in a small idyllic fictional countryside village! We see Father Jeremy’s final interaction with the light, and he stays true to his colours.

“Their line is gone out through all the earth And their words to the end of the world. In them hath he set a tabernacle for the sun. Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy – oh, oh God. Oh God…”

The light fades, and at last Father Jeremy finds peace. As far as we know. His light went out? No that’s too dark. Either way, we no longer hear his voice. I’m hoping he found his eternal bliss – he seemed like a decent sort – if anyone deserves perpetual light being shone upon them, and that is what they want, then for me, it was Father Jeremy Wheeler.

It’s time to track down The Light and see what happened to the other members of Yaughton.

-BrightStarFOX