The Priest
The booth was dark and still, imbued with the peaceful fragrances of frankincense and myrrh. I sat, waiting. I closed my eyes and slowed my breath in preparation as I heard someone enter and sit down.
“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been 6 months since my last confession.”
The voice of a girl, surely no more than 16, softly filtered through the grate of the confessional.
“The Lord be in your heart and upon your lips that you may humbly confess your sins… Yes, my child?”
The sound of soft sobbing began.
“There is nothing you cannot tell God, my child.”
“I have broken my relationship with God, Father. I have committed a mortal sin.” Here the sobbing abruptly stopped. “But I’m not sorry I did it. I’d do it again.”
“What have you done, child?”
“I lied to the judge, Father. I told him my stepfather had done things to me.” Her voice dropped. She hesitated before continuing, “…you know, sexually. But he didn’t. I just didn’t know what else to do.”
“False testimony is a serious sin, child, but it is also a crime,” I said softly. The child sounded alarmed. “Why have you done this terrible thing?”
Her voice came in a rush. “Because my mother was afraid and didn’t know what to do, and my brother is just a kid and someone had to do something. He’s a terrible man. He beat up my mom a lot and wouldn’t let her go to the doctor. Mama lost her job because she missed work so often because of the bruises and the black eye that time. She’d just sit and cry a lot.”
A deep racking sob left her chest, followed by the sound of nose blowing. “And we couldn’t tell anyone or he’d kill us. He said so, and he had a gun. I saw it. I didn’t know what to do.” The girl sighed and began to sniffle again.
“How did you come to tell this lie? Why not just tell the police the truth?”
“I was too scared to do anything, for a long time. But then my teacher started asking if there was something wrong at home. My grades weren’t very good anymore, and I wasn’t turning in homework. I didn’t have time to do it… I was cooking and taking care of Mama and Bradley …” She stopped abruptly. “I mean, my brother. I told her nothing was wrong, but she just kept asking. She wanted my mom to come in for a conference, but Mama couldn’t leave the house, so I said she was sick.”
“But my teacher just wouldn’t quit. She kept after me, till she finally just asked me if my stepfather was hurting me. Sexually, I mean, and I started crying. She called Social Services, and I didn’t know what to do. Then I realized that this could be a good way to get him locked up away from us without my mom having to do anything. She just wasn’t strong enough to tell on him.” The girl had stopped crying now, and her voice sounded harder. Older.
“So I lied.” A deep shuddering sigh escaped her lips. “First to the social worker; then to the police. By the time I lied to the judge, I almost believed it myself. I was stuck with the story. But it isn’t true. And now I’m going to hell.” A thoughtful pause. “But at least he’s in jail and can’t hurt my mom again. And my brother is sleeping better at night and doesn’t cry in his sleep anymore. So how can what I did be wrong? I mean, I know it IS wrong, but I just can’t see how.”
I flashed back to my seminary days and conditional ethics. As Hugo asked, is it really wrong to steal a loaf of bread to feed a starving child? How about to give false testimony to save a family? I removed my glasses and rubbed my eyes with both hands. Once again I felt old and tired, like I’d been treading water for years. How indeed to justify the ways of God to men, much less to a child? What would Jesus do?
“What should I have done, Father? What should I do now?”
It was now my turn to sigh softly. I took a deep breath and put my glasses back on, my vision suddenly clear. “Turn it over to God in your heart, my child. Let Him handle this. Ask the Queen of the Angels to bring you Peace. Say 5 Our Fathers and 50 Hail Marys. And may the love of God protect your family.
“The Lord has put away all your sins. Abide in Peace and pray for me, a sinner. Amen.”
The Court Worker
Sharon took a sip of her coffee and smiled nervously. “I don’t really know where to start. I guess my story began happily enough. I got married shortly after graduation to my high school sweetheart. I had two darling children, a girl and a boy, five years apart. We had a nice home in a friendly and safe small town. My husband was a regional manager for Fed Ex. I had returned to work for the local Boys and Girls Club when my younger child Bradley began 1st grade. Life was pretty good.” Here Sharon sighed and looked out the window at her garden. The sun beamed onto the table in the kitchen where we sat. The house smelled of cookies.
“I was at work when the management team from Fed Ex came to tell me the plane that Ted was on had gone down with no survivors. I have no idea how I survived that day, or the long agony that followed; telling my children that their father was not coming home, then staying alive to care for them. Cassie was 11 and Bradley 6. They were heartbroken. So was I.”
“You must have been very strong to keep going,” I told Sharon. “I’m not sure what I’d have done. Life can become impossible so quickly.” I poured more coffee for us both. The Pecan Sandies sat on the plate, untouched.
“Kyle had worked with Ted at Fed Ex,” Sharon continued, “and he came to the service. He was very kind and supportive after the accident. He’d come by to check on me, bring groceries, and take the kids out for ice cream to give me a break. I had gone back to work; routine helps during a crisis, don’t you think? Anyway, we saw a lot of each other for the next year or so. When he asked me to marry him, it seemed like the next step. He was nice enough and the kids seemed to like him, so…why not? I was young. Life goes on, right?” I nodded, not wanting to start asking questions right away. I sometimes get too involved with my clients. I’m working on it.
“I’m sorry, what did you say your name was again? I’m so bad with names and I’m a bit discombobulated… Patricia, right? Well, Patricia, everyone was encouraging the relationship, maybe so that they wouldn’t feel bad for me anymore… or maybe because they really wanted me to be happy. I don’t know. But I said yes. And for a while it seemed okay. Cookie?” I shook my head. My throat was too dry for anything called a “sandy.” I took a sip of coffee and waited.
“Anyway, it didn’t take long for me to figure out that our marriage was a sham and just Kyle’s way of getting Ted’s insurance money. Gambling debts. You hear that gamblers can be real charmers, and I guess it’s true. You also hear that gamblers never stop, and I know that’s true. It’s an addiction, you know? Oh, Kyle took the money and paid off his debts, but Ted’s insurance wasn’t that much, and Kyle kept losing more bets.” Sharon reached for a cookie, breaking one in half and nibbling on the corner. She seemed to be gathering her strength.
“He became more and more angry… at life in general, it seemed. He started beating me for a release, I guess. That’s what one of the counselors says, anyway. I remember the first time he hit me. I was so shocked. I was fixing dinner. The kids were both over at friends’ houses. It was a Friday night, and they both planned to spend the night. I was looking forward to a quiet evening after a hectic week, but Kyle was listening to the TV and became upset by something. I don’t know what set him off. All I know is I asked him if he wanted the potatoes mashed and he slapped me so hard that I staggered back. I was still trying to find my breath when I heard him slam the door. The car started and he drove off. When I could move again, I locked all the doors and windows and stumbled into the bedroom.” Sharon turned to me, eyebrows raised.
I shook my head ruefully, not knowing what to say. As Cassie’s court appointed Guardian ad litem, it was my job to figure out what was going on in her home and find the best way to support Cassie. I didn’t want to color my interaction with her mom, so I tried to respond neutrally, but it was hard to not feel sorry for Sharon.
“What happened when the kids came home? When Kyle returned? How did you respond after what had happened?” I’d have killed him, I thought to myself. Poisoned his mashed potatoes.
“I fell asleep in my clothes and only woke up when Cassie came home the next morning. The knocking woke me… she was calling out, surprised that the door was locked. She came home early to get her gear for swim team, so she just grabbed her things and ran out. I showered and tried to figure out what I was supposed to do. I guess I didn’t really believe what had happened. Bradley came home, and I just kept acting like everything was the same. What else could I do?”
“After that, the outbursts came more frequently and Kyle didn’t care if the kids were there or not. It was a nightmare. He never hurt the kids. I’d have left immediately if he had, but I just felt trapped. No more insurance money, two kids and a mortgage, and my family and friends had all been so supportive of the relationship, I felt like it must be my fault. So I tried harder, but nothing worked. It only got worse. Then Bradley started having trouble sleeping, and he started to wet the bed again.”
Sharon cleared her throat and sipped her coffee. “Cassie was strong, but I could see that she was hurting. I thought it was just because of the beatings and his controlling my every move. I didn’t know about the other. I really had shut down. I had started to drink secretly, and I was so focused on my failures that I had no idea Kyle was hurting Cassie. I would have killed him if I’d known. But now that he’s in jail, we can breath again and be a family like we used to be. I really want us to be like we used to be.… Are you sure you don’t want a cookie? I can make you some toast, if you’d like.”
Sharon got up and walked to the cupboard to get another plate. The sun was pouring into the kitchen and splashed across her face as she turned to me. “I would do anything for my children. I’ve stopped drinking. I’m in counseling and have started to volunteer at my church again. I want to go back to work soon. I want to help Cassie get her life back. We were always a close family. I just want that again. Please don’t take her from me. I don’t think either one of us could bear to lose any more.”
I let Sharon make me a piece of toast, with marmalade, and we talked a bit more about how the kids were doing. Both were getting counseling, and Bradley was sleeping normally again. Cassie was back on swim team and had even joined the debate club for next year. She had also started going to church again and had joined a support group there. She had her friends and seemed to be returning to her old life. Kids are pretty resilient.
I thanked Sharon for her hospitality and assured her that the court would be in touch soon. I told her she should be proud of what she’d accomplished. As I walked out to my car, I looked back at the house. It was still a nice house in a good neighborhood. The world was again calm and sunny. But life can change in an instant, and horror can lurk just below any surface, as my work for the courts keeps demonstrating. It looked like this case would end well. I certainly hoped so. So many don’t.
As they say, “If you want a happy ending, you have to know where to stop your story.”
The Brother
I entered the diner and looked around. It had been years since I’d been here, but very little had changed. Tammy was still waiting tables in her short pink uniform with the white ruffled apron, and the sign still said, “Please seat yourself.” So many lost hours spent here during high school. Seemed like another lifetime ago. I waved to Tammy, who winked back, then saw Cassie in the corner booth and walked over. She jumped up and threw her arms around me. We hugged hard. It was always good to see my big sister.
“Hey, Cassie. I’m so glad you caught me before graduation. And before I move and start my new job. You look great. How are you?” I sat down in the booth and signaled for a coffee. Cassie was already halfway through a Diet Coke. She smiled.
“I’m good. Work’s good. I just really needed to talk with you, so I’m especially happy to see you. I wanted to talk before all the craziness of the celebrating begins.” Cassie twirled her hair and brought it to her lips, like she always did when she was hatching a plot. She paused. “And now you’re here…and I’m relieved, but also kind of nervous.”
Tammy set down a mug and poured my first cup, then placed the pot on the table. “Good to see you looking so grown up, Bradley. It’s been a while. I hear you’re finally graduating.” Tammy laughed. “Congratulations! You all ready to order?”
I looked at Cassie, who shook her head. “We’ll just sit with these drinks for a while,” I said. “We’ll let you know when we’re ready. We have some catching up to do first.” I looked at Cassie and waited.
Cassie looked calm, but determined. “I have something to tell you that I haven’t told anyone for these last 15 years. I need for you to listen, but I also have to ask you to promise to not share what I’m going to tell you. You’ll have to take it to your grave.”
I felt like we were kids again, ready to make a pinky promise. But Cassie looked very serious. “Of course, Cassie. Whatever you need. What’s going on?”
Cassie cleared her throat. “I heard from the court system. Kyle is up for parole, and he’ll probably be getting out next month. And my lie put him in jail.” Cassie looked at me over her Coke. Waiting.
I slowly shook my head. “What are you talking about?”
Cassie held my gaze. “Kyle never touched me. Mrs. Alvarez at school kept asking me if everything was okay at home, and she finally asked if my stepfather was messing with me. I just started crying, and she assumed the worst. By the time she had contacted Social Services, I realized that this would solve all our problems. Mom was helpless, but suddenly I wasn’t. I could get Kyle taken way. I could make us all safe.”
I took a sip of my cooling coffee and stared at Cassie. “Wow. So what are you going to do? What do you think will happen when Kyle gets out? Are you afraid he’ll come back here looking for revenge?”
“I don’t know what will happen. When this all first went down, I felt so scared and confused and thought I was going to hell for sure. I went to confession, terrified. I told the priest what had happened, and he told me that God worked in mysterious ways that he couldn’t explain; that I needed faith. But he assured me that God had forgiven me. I asked the priest what I should do now, and he told me to just turn it all over to God, and to ask the Holy Mother to give us peace. And she did. It really seemed like a miracle.”
“You remember… Mom got some counseling, and slowly she got better and returned to work. She joined that church support group, where she’s been active ever since. She turned her life around. And look at you, college, then law school. And I got my teaching degree. You know, Mrs. Alvarez retired the year after I started at the high school.” Cassie smiled, looking relieved after her second confession.
“So I sort of think that God agreed with my solution. Sometimes the truth is deeper than the facts… somehow ‘truer’, don’t you think? In the end, right triumphed, didn’t it?”
I looked at Cassie through the eyes of both her brother and those of the newly hired Assistant District Attorney for the Commonwealth. It seemed like God had taken the weight off of Cassie’s shoulders, only to have it placed on mine. Tag team family guilt. Christ.
Cassie’s forgiveness had been spiritual, not legal, and I was now a representative of the state, not a guardian angel. I was currently in possession of information that I was required by law to reveal. I knew where my responsibility lay. I looked at my big sister, my childhood savior and protector, who seemed so sure that she was divinely protected. Cassie may have been absolved by God, but I’d have to tell her what her options were for making this right with the state. I wasn’t too worried. Since the statute of limitations had lapsed for perjury, and given her age at the time, I was sure she’d get off with some community service. Kyle was a different story.
“Let’s order lunch,” I said. “I’m starving. And we have a lot to talk about. We can plan the post graduation ceremony bash, and I want to hear all about what you’ve been up to since Christmas. And… I have a new job to tell you about. Is the chicken salad still as good as I remember?” I waved for Tammy. We were ready to order.
The Niece
Dad was sitting in the living room when Abby and I arrived to pick him up. He’d dressed in his blue suit and navy tie for the funeral. Dad is such a traditionalist. He insisted on calling the event a funeral, although it was really a celebration of life. That was what Cassie had wanted. She had arranged to be cremated and had asked that my sister and I scatter her ashes in the river, so she could keep on moving forward. That was the only sendoff she said she wanted. So like Aunt Cassie.
I kneeled next to his chair and gave him a hug. “Hey, Dad. How’re you holding up? You look like you’re dressed for a funeral,” I gently kidded him. Cassie did not want her passing to be mourned. She considered having been alive at all to be a miracle to be held in wonder. She always told us that in life you can either be a victim or a victor. She had made her choice.
The main event was held in the neighborhood Unitarian Church hall, where she’d spent so many years helping people who needed the support of AA, NA, support groups for domestic abuse (both victims and abusers), the homeless, and prisoner reintegration. After everyone had had a chance to share their Cassie story, we cleared the chairs away and the music began. A varied menu of food was served from the basement kitchen. Cassie had touched the hearts of a lot of very different people. She didn’t judge anyone by what they ate or how they dressed. She always said life was hard enough without making people jump through hoops just so they could be your friends. Cassie’s celebration drew nuns and homeless folk, professors and waitresses… and some really good musicians. We danced a lot that evening, even if we did so with tear laden eyes.
“Your Aunt Cassie was always a wonderful sister,” Dad said quietly. “She had my back when we were kids, and she never stopped supporting me, even when I challenged her goodwill. I don’t know what I’ll do now that she’s gone. I already miss her more than I thought possible.” We were back at Dad’s house. We had all changed into our pajamas and were having a cup of tea, or in Dad’s case, a bourbon neat.
Dad hadn’t spoken at the celebration. He wasn’t given to public displays of emotion. He was a private person, even though he was a public servant. Maybe especially because of that. He had seemed far away as he’d listened to all the accolades others showered on her. Now he seemed ready to share, needing to give our Aunt Cassie her due. Abby and I gathered around his big chair like we used to do when we were kids, ready to listen to what Dad wanted to say.
“I know you’ll understand some of what I’m about to say since your mama died when you were both young. I was only six years old when I lost my dad. Cassie was my lifeline then. My mom was having a hard time. She tried, but I don’t think she had ever lived on her own before she married, and she had two kids. Anyway, she’d gotten involved with a guy from my dad’s work, and after a bit they married. He turned out to be a nightmare, only wanted her money. He became abusive… really bad. He beat up my mom, and she sort of stopped being my mom. Cassie took over and really took care of both of us then. …Emma, can you bring the Jim Beam? I think I’m going to want another little bit,” he smiled gently.
I poured as he continued. “Anyway, our lives were falling apart, but Cassie just kept getting me up for school and feeding us dinner, trying to keep us out of the worst of it. She was my personal guardian angel.” Dad took a sip from his tumbler.
“Now I know that you all know your Aunt Cassie had some legal trouble when she was younger. What you don’t know is that when she was just 15, she lied to get our stepfather sent to jail, and I’m the one who made Cassie confess when I found out. I always felt sick about that, although Cassie says it was the best thing that ever happened to her. It put her on the path of her greatest joy, working with those who suffered the most and received the least in our society, she said. But when Cassie made her confession, she had to quit her job teaching, and that’s when we both moved. I had just graduated law school and gotten a job here, so we all moved to Alexandria. It was a good move for us both. We chose what parts of our past to bring with us.” Abby scooted closer on the floor, transfixed.
Dad loved Alexandria. He always said it was the best of small town living in a big city, and so close to our nation’s capitol. Abby and I moved to DC for school and afterwards only returned home to visit Dad and Cassie. Usually we invited them into town for museums and shows. It was nice that we lived so close, but had our own lives. Now it would be just Dad.
“One good thing that came from Cassie’s confession is that Cassie got a protective order, which probably saved her a lot of grief from Kyle. Since Cassie was a minor at the time of the event, she was allowed to perform community service. She said it turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to her. That’s how she came to work with prisoners and the homeless, and you know how much she loved that work. She always said it was time for her to offer the same forgiveness to others that she had received as a kid, from God. Cassie wasn’t really religious, but she had a thing about having been forgiven. She felt responsible anyway, I think, but it soothed her to feel forgiven. Maybe it helped her to forgive herself a little.”
Abby had gotten up and moved to the ottoman to be closer to Dad. She reached out and touched his hand. The one with the bourbon in it.
“Daddy. Aunt Cassie already told us all this. When she was first diagnosed with cancer, she invited us over for a sleepover. She said it was time for just us girls to get together and share. She said she wanted to leave us with a bunch of love, our inheritance, a legacy, she said. And that it was something that would get bigger the more we shared it with others. But the way she told it, you were the one who held the family together. She said that your looking up to her with love and trust had given her the strength to be brave. And she said you made her realize that we aren’t as separate as we think we are. Family is important, but it’s bigger than blood. We’re all linked. She called life the “Links of Love,” although she said later that on her hard days she also thought it was the “Chain of Fools,” which made us all laugh. She was a wonderful person, wasn’t she?”
“She was, Abby. That she was.” Dad raised his glass and we all toasted Cassie. Then we said our good nights and went to our separate beds to finish our thoughts. Abby and I were driving back to DC the next day in time for work.
As I drifted off, I thought… people say that sometimes you don’t realize how special someone is until they’re gone. It seemed to me that everyone had always known how special Cassie was. What I think that we were gradually learning from Cassie’s death was how very special we all were.
I thought about my job, working as a prosecutor for the District Attorney’s office. I had followed in Dad’s footsteps, and had always felt that my work helped keep my community safe. Now I started to think of all the other ways my degree could be used to help those with fewer friends and more problems. Cassie had left a trail of love crumbs and enough light to follow them. Tomorrow I’d begin to explore my options and trust that my feet could grow to fill her shoes.
© 2017 Joan Cichon All Rights Reserved