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Authors: Dale Allan

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A Prayer for the Devil (9 page)

BOOK: A Prayer for the Devil
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Pondering for a moment, she replied, “I think there’s an entire closet full of old clothes in the basement. Take anything you want.”

Realizing that he was still sitting next to her on the bed, and feeling uncomfortable, Luke quickly stood and replied, “Great, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

She forced a smile as he walked out the door.

Luke quickly located the closet in the basement. When he opened the door and peered in, he was surprised to see how big it was. True to form, it was neat and organized, containing several long shelves stacked with boxes and another section with hanging items. Turning on the overhead light, he entered and began exploring. The boxes were labeled: “trophies,” “college books,” “Hanukkah,” “wedding pictures,” and so forth. Focusing on the hanging clothes, Luke moved deeper inside. There was a section with double rods that contained two rows for shirts and short jackets, and another full-length area for long coats. As he shuffled through the garments, he remembered Aaron wearing
several of the items. Looking specifically for winter coats, he began pulling each one off the hanger and piling them in the center of the room. After gathering several short jackets, he moved on to the longer items. As he tossed each coat to the pile on the floor, he couldn’t help but notice the tags on the inside: Burberry, Polo, Billy Reid, Boss. He smiled, thinking to himself that there were going to be some well-dressed people in the park that evening. Any hesitation he felt about giving these beautiful clothes away was quickly overcome by knowing the good it would do.

As he carried an armful from the closet, he noticed that one of the full-length coats felt heavy. Assuming it was the quilted lining, he didn’t pay much attention to it until he dropped it on the floor and heard a clunk. Puzzled, he picked up the coat, put it on, and began searching the pockets. As he reached into the inside lapel pocket, he felt something. Realizing what it was before he saw it, he slowly pulled out the semiautomatic pistol. Horrified, he looked up and saw his shocking reflection in the mirrored walls. A priest holding a gun; what a blasphemy. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, he quickly jammed the gun back into the pocket.

Deborah appeared, with Luke’s mother. “We came down to see if you needed any help,” she announced. Knowing Luke better than anyone, his mother immediately sensed something was wrong. “Are you all right, Lukey?” She hadn’t called him that since he was a child. Forcing a smile, while trying to compose himself, he responded, “I’m fine, just trying to find some clothes for the homeless.” Looking at Deborah as if trying to impress her, his mother said, “He’s always had a great big heart and an unbelievable amount of compassion for the less fortunate. When he was a small child, he would give away his lunch money to his classmates who didn’t have any.” She walked over and hugged him.
Embarrassed, Luke returned her embrace while turning his body to the right to make sure she didn’t feel the handgun in his pocket.

Deborah smiled. “Lukey. That’s so cute! I’m going to call you that from now on too!”

Grimacing at his mom, Luke replied, “I’ll get you for this!” and they all smiled.

As she helped him gather the coats, Deborah asked, “Was the coat you’re wearing in this closet?”

Luke was taken aback at the question. “Yes, why?”

“Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just surprised, because Aaron wore that coat often.”

Thinking quickly and not wanting to take it off, Luke asked, “Would you mind if I kept this one?”

“Of course you can, Lukey!”

They laughed, and each of them took an armful of coats and headed upstairs. Rummaging through the garage for several empty boxes, they started packing the coats for Luke to take to the park. But he found himself thinking the whole time, Why in the world would Aaron be hiding a gun?

 
 

AFTER SAYING GOOD NIGHT
to his parents and Deb, Luke left the house through the kitchen door and carried three boxes of coats to the back of the property. Hoisting each box to the top of the wall, he gently pushed them over and loaded the car. With the backseat full, he headed to Boston Common.

“The Common,” as it was commonly referred to by Boston locals, was a national historic landmark. Used as a cow pasture in the early sixteen hundreds, the park has played an important part in Boston’s history. Mary Dyer was hanged from a large oak tree for preaching Quakerism in 1660, and British soldiers occupied the grounds before the Revolutionary War. Protesters filled the park to denounce the Vietnam War in the 1960s, and many famous people, including Martin Luther King Jr. and Pope John Paul II, have given important speeches there.

In August of 2007, two teenagers were shot on the Common, causing a strict curfew to be instituted for visitors. This restriction was protested by the homeless population who inhabited the park grounds after dark. Weeks after the shooting, the local police turned a blind eye, and the homeless returned.

Walking past Brewer Fountain, Luke thought that to today’s generation, the park would forever be known for one thing: the bombing in Boston. He had been to this park many times to encourage the homeless to go to the local shelters during the cold winter months. He and his fellow priests often brought clothing and food to those who refused.

Luke sat down on a bench and started to open the first box of coats when someone yelled, “Stop right there!” Startled, he saw a police officer walking toward him, with his right hand inside his coat pocket, obviously holding a gun. “Stand up slowly and move away from the box,” the officer commanded. Doing exactly as instructed, Luke stood and waited for the cop to approach. Realizing that his scarf was covering his priest collar, he innocently moved his hand to expose it. “Put your hands up and leave them there!” the officer yelled. Luke quickly complied. Moving closer, the officer cautiously examined the box, pulling open the top with one hand while still holding the gun with his other. Seeing the coats, he asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Luke Miller, a priest from Saint Leonard’s parish. I’ve come to give some old coats to the homeless.”

“Can I see identification?”

While unbuttoning his coat, Luke realized that he still had Aaron’s gun in his pocket. Noticing the officer moving closer, he started to panic.

“Are you the one whose brother was killed in the bombing?”

“Yes.”

Recognizing him and now seeing his collar exposed in the bright moonlight, the officer pulled his gun hand from his pocket and shook Luke’s. “Nice to meet you; sorry for your loss.”

Seeing that several of the homeless had gathered after hearing the commotion, the officer said good-bye and walked away into the darkness.

Luke stood with his heart pounding and began giving coats to the waiting people. When he carried the third box from the car, he saw that word had spread, and a dozen or so more were standing by the bench in the frigid air. Handing the last coat to an elderly woman, he noticed that there was still one man waiting in the distance. Luke’s heart was breaking as he thought about what to do. Without hesitation, Luke turned his back to the man and untucked his shirt. He quickly removed the gun from the coat pocket and placed it in his pants, covering it with his shirttail. Turning around, he saw the man still waiting. Walking slowly toward him, Luke took off the coat and handed it to him. Obviously grateful, the man quickly put it on. As Luke started to walk away, the homeless man said, “Thanks. Are you the priest whose brother was killed?”

Luke stopped and turned. “Yes, I am. How did you know that?”

“I’m sorry, Father. I read the papers when people leave them on the benches. Sometimes I’m a day or two behind on the news, but I try to stay informed.”

Luke smiled and waved as he turned again to walk to the car. Then the man said something that made him stop dead. “One of the guys who lives here in the park says he knows who did it.”

Luke froze. “What?”

The man looked down. “Well, he says he does. And he says the police are never going to figure it out.”

“Where’s this man?”

“I can’t say. He’s a recluse, and like most people who live here, sometimes he’s full of shit.” Remembering that he was talking to a priest, the man quickly apologized. “Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean to curse in front of you.”

“Believe me, I’ve heard worse. Do you think this guy would talk to me?”

“I don’t know, but I can ask.”

“Let’s find him now. Where do we look?”

“Nah, we won’t find him now. He said he wouldn’t be around for a few days. But I promise I’ll keep looking for him.”

Luke quickly jotted down his name, address, and phone number on a piece of paper.

“Please, you have to convince this man to talk to me. It’s extremely important.”

Feeling a need to tell Luke his story, the gray-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself. “I’m John Daly. I’ve been living in the park for about a year. I was laid off from my job and lost my house. My wife was a realtor, but she hasn’t sold a house for over a year, so when she and the kids went back to live with her parents, I just couldn’t go with them. I’m too ashamed. So I live here now. I guess you’ve heard it all before, Father.” When the man saw Luke reach into his pocket for some money, he said, “No, that’s OK. I’ve been unloading crates at the docks and hope to have a full-time job soon.”

Thinking quickly for a way to make sure that the man would follow up on the lead, Luke asked, “John, if I come back here in two days with another coat, could I trade with you? That one belonged to my brother, and I would like to keep it for sentimental reasons.” John immediately started to remove the coat, but Luke convinced him to keep it, promising to return in two days with another one. After saying good-bye, Luke blessed him and walked away.

Returning home, Luke quietly put his key into the back-door lock, opened it, and silently made his way down the hallway. When he entered his room, he took the gun out of his waistband and once again stared at it with disbelief. Why in the world did Aaron have a gun, and why was it hidden downstairs? Unsure of what to do with it, he finally decided to hide it on a top shelf in the closet under some shirts,
hoping that there was no way the kids could get to it. He washed up and climbed into bed, but instead of sleeping, he twisted and turned all night while wondering if the homeless man could really tell him what happened.

 
BOOK: A Prayer for the Devil
10.59Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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