Bless Us Father (34 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Maggie pulled into the parking lot of Saint Catherine Laboure Church and School and parked her car. Javier pulled in next to her. She beckoned him to come over to her car and get in on the passenger side.

“I’ve decided I want to drive by St. Mary’s Academy and my old house before we go to the rectory. Will you ride with me?”

“Of course, Maggie. If you sure that what you wan.”

She drove the few short blocks to the school in an area that used to be surrounded by oil fields. Industrial buildings and offices now took the place of the old oil derricks. A high security fence surrounded the school now, and a guard stood at the main entrance. She pulled the car next to the curb and made no move to get out.

“Oh my, what’s become of the neighborhood?” Maggie mused. “It sure looks different.”

She gazed at the school for a long time, then realized it looked nothing like she’d remembered. Somehow it seemed much smaller. Of course the students that were there were all different and the teachers were, too. There probably weren’t even any nuns teaching there anymore. In a flash of insight she realized her painful memories were just that, memories. The girls she’d gone to school with were adults now. Maybe they regretted the way they’d treated her during those years, if they had even given her a thought later.

“I wonder whatever happened to Linda?” Maggie asked aloud.

“Who this Linda?” Javier asked.

Startled, Maggie said, “Oh my gosh. I was thinking out loud, I guess. Linda was my best friend for most of my childhood. We lost touch.”

“Maybe you look her up on the internet,” Javier suggested.

Maggie looked at the school once more, then put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb. “No, some things are better left alone.”

She drove to the Whittwood Mall. “This doesn’t look anything like it did when I worked here. The old stores have been completely torn down and rebuilt,” she told Javier. “It used to be a covered indoor mall with big stores anchoring each end. I had fun the short time I worked here. There’s nothing left that I recognize, though.”

The apartment building where she’d gone swimming with Twyla, Vivian and the Watson brothers the summer before her senior year had disappeared and was replaced by Cape Cod style condominiums. A sense of relief washed over her at seeing how changed everything was. Perhaps she, too, was changed after all these years.

“Let’s go see how different my old house looks,” she said.

“Whatever you wan, Maggie,” Javier said, looking out the window. “This very nice area. The people take good care their houses.”

“Yes they do, don’t they? It doesn’t look much different,” she said, turning into her old neighborhood. “Except for a few houses that they’ve added onto. Most of them look pretty much the same.”

She stopped in front of her old house. Unlike the school and mall it hadn’t changed much at all. It was even painted the same yellow color it had always been, and though the roof looked new, the old one had also been the same gray color.

“This is my house, Javier. There’s the porch I used to sit on to wait for my friends. And the picture window that my mom made my dad buy her is still there. The new owners haven’t changed the outside of the house at all. The trees in the neighborhood are all taller, but not much else has changed.”

She saw a woman walk to the window and look out briefly. Memories flooded back as Maggie thought of another night when she’d been outside looking in. She’d seen Father Antonio sitting in the living room with her parents, drinking wine and waiting for her to get home. A wave of nausea washed over her and she started to perspire.

“You okay, Maggie?” Javier asked, concern evident in his tone.

“I was just remembering something, that’s all. Maybe it’s better when places don’t look the same. When they change, it’s almost like they never really existed in the first place. But this just brings it all back to me.”

“You know the people that live there?” he asked.

“Oh no. My mother sold the house when my dad died years ago. She lives in Leisure World now. I don’t know these people.”

“Memory is always there even if place is gone, you understand?” Javier asked. “Maybe need to work on getting memory to go away.”

“Yes, Javier. I think you’re right. Let’s go visit the rectory and then I’ll do just that. Start working on getting those memories all under control.”

Once back in the parking lot of Saint Catherine Laboure, she parked her car next to Javier’s and retrieved Sadie from the back. Javier got out and they approached the rectory together.

Maggie lifted the brass door knocker and rapped it three times. It was one o’clock in the afternoon, so she expected the housekeeper to answer rather than a student worker.

The door opened only as far as the security chain would allow, and a twinkling blue eye in half of a wrinkled face peered at them through the three inch opening.

“Need something?” a gravelly male voice asked.

“I...we would like to come in and look around if it’s possible. I worked here many years ago and I’m just passing through. I have a lot of memories of this place,” Maggie explained.

“I don’t have much time for giving people tours. I’m on a tight schedule here,” the man said, sounding grumpy.

“I promise I won’t take much of your time, sir. I’ll be very quick about it.”

The door closed again and she heard the chain slide out of the lock.

“Come on in with you then,” the man said, throwing open the door. “I guess you can bring the mutt in, too.”

Maggie took one step inside, looked at the man in front of her, and gasped. “Oh my God! Father O’Malley? I thought you were dead.”

The man in front of her was dressed in a knit shirt and black pants, but with his sparkling blue eyes, and shock of white hair, he was the spitting image of her old friend Father O’Malley.

“Of course I’m not Father O’Malley. He’d be about a hundred and ten by now. I’m Father Sullivan.”

Maggie shook her head. How silly of her. “I apologize,” she said. “It must be the heat.”

“You and your friend come in then so I can close the door. The AC is running full blast,” Father Sullivan said, sounding a little less grumpy.

Maggie stepped into the front office where she’d worked so many years ago with Javier following right behind her.

“This doesn’t look much different at all,” she said to no one in particular.

The blue vinyl sofa had been replaced by a brown leather one just about the same size. A practical wooden desk stood where the old metal one had been, and the telephone that sat on it had buttons indicating there were several different lines. A computer took the place of the typewriter that used to be there. “No Smoking” signs replaced the ashtray on top of an oak end table.

“Are you planning on telling me who you are and why you’ve stopped by?” Father Sullivan asked.

“Oh, goodness, yes. I’m sorry. I’m Maggie Riley. I mean then I was Mary Margaret Riley. When I worked here in the sixties that is.”

She watched a look of recognition wash over his face.

“Ah, yes. I know the name, Mary Margaret Riley. We all do here,” he said, his voice a little softer now. He reached out and put a gentle hand on her elbow and guided her to the brown sofa. “Please sit down. I’m glad you’ve come by.”

The priest sat on the sofa next to her and patted her hand.

Maggie gazed into his eyes and saw sadness and remorse there.

“Then you must know why I’m here. I...we,” she said, suddenly remembering Javier. “Come sit beside me, Javier.” She patted the empty spot next to her on the sofa and handed Sadie to him when he sat down.

“Anyway,” Maggie continued. “Javier and I have just come from the Archdiocese settlement hearings. I met Javier there. He is also a victim though not from this area. We are driving back to our homes, but I felt a very strong need to come by here one more time. I hope you understand.”

Father Sullivan sighed deeply and seemed to shrink back into the leather of the couch. “Oh, my children. God’s children. I can’t tell you how sorry I am and how sorry so many of my colleagues are for the pain and suffering you’ve endured.”

Tears once again filled Maggie’s eyes and coursed down her cheeks. Here was the apology she’d waited so long to hear. Granted, it wasn’t from Father Antonio, but it was a sincere apology all the same.

Javier took out his ever present crisp, clean white handkerchief and handed it to Maggie who then dabbed at her tears.

“We go now Maggie?” he asked, once she’d dried her eyes.

She stood up to leave, but Father Sullivan reached out and grasped her arm. “Wait just a moment. I’d like to grant you both absolution before you go.”

“Absolve us?” Javier asked. “But we have not made a confession, and I am no more Catholica.”

“I’m not Catholic, either, Father,” Maggie said.

“I understand you are no longer practicing Catholics, and I understand why, but when you are born and raised a Catholic it never leaves you. Some part of your soul is still Catholic and I want you to be able to heal the part that is buried deep within you. I don’t expect you to make a confession to me,” Father Sullivan said. “Please allow me to do this.”

“But Father, I thought it was against church policy to grant absolution without confession,” Maggie said.

“We are permitted to grant absolution in two circumstances. When death is imminent, and when a serious need exists. Some diocesan bishops have granted permission to their priests to absolve victims of abuse, and I believe that’s what our Lord would want, so I am granting absolution whenever possible.”

“Javier and I aren’t the ones that committed the sins. The priests took advantage of us, not the other way around,” Maggie countered.

“You’re right, of course, but there’s still a part of you that believes perhaps you did something to cause it. Am I right?” Father asked.

Javier and Maggie looked long at each other. Finally, Javier said, “Yes, Father. You are right. I always theenk maybe I was a bad boy and that why it hoppen to me.”

“Maggie?” Father Sullivan took her hand and held it gently in his.

“Yes,” she whispered. “I have blamed myself for a lot of it all these years.”

“Please kneel,” Father Sullivan said, placing his hands on their heads when they did so.

“God, the Father of mercies, through the death and resurrection of his Son has reconciled the world to Himself and sent the Holy Spirit among us for the forgiveness of sins; through the ministry of the Church may God give you pardon and peace, and I absolve you from your sins in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

Javier and Maggie crossed themselves and got to their feet.

“Thank you, Father,” Maggie said.

Javier nodded his agreement.

“Please, if you ever need to talk to someone, remember that I am here. You can come to me any time,” Father Sullivan said as he led the way to the door.

Maggie and Javier walked slowly back towards the parked cars.

“I’ll be right there,” Maggie said, handing Sadie’s leash to Javier. “I need a moment alone.”

Javier took Sadie and ambled on towards the cars.

Maggie turned the corner and walked to the side of the house. There she found a small meditation garden with a bubbling fountain and statue of St. Francis of Assisi. A pair of white wrought iron chairs was positioned in front of the fountain. She sat on one of the chairs and let out a long cleansing breath. She was astounded at the sense of relief she felt. She’d thought this day would never come. A glimmer of hope for the future formed in her heart. She said a silent prayer and thanked God for guiding her to Father Sullivan. She sat silently for a moment longer. Then, realizing Javier was probably getting tired of waiting, she hurried to the parking lot.

“That it, Maggie? Are you feenished here?” he asked, opening his car door and handing Sadie to her.

“I’m finished,” she said, smiling. “You lead the way. How about we stop at the Mission Inn in Riverside for lunch?”

“That place cost too much money,” Javier protested. “It too fancy for me.”

“I feel like celebrating. It will be my treat. We did get a promised of money today,” Maggie said as she got into her car.

“Okay, Maggie. You the boss. We go now.”

When you make peace with yourself, you make peace with the world.

-Maha Ghosananda-

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

September 4, 2008

Maggie took a long drink of iced tea and set the glass back on the wicker table. She turned the page in the novel she was reading and pushed her foot against the patio floor to rock her chair. The early evening sun was sinking low in the sky. It was almost too dark to read outside. She closed the book and looked out over the horizon, thankful that when she’d made the decision to move to Temecula, her backyard offered a view of the vineyards that now dotted the valley.