Children in the Morning (13 page)

Beau, obviously fuelled by guilt over representing the shooter and seeing the brother charged — Cathy’s family victimized again —

launched his own investigation, found out the brother was innocent, and fingered the real killer.”

“And people think the theology of the Holy Trinity is complicated!”

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Chapter 6

(Normie)

We were learning about sins on Monday in catechism class. Mrs.

Kavanagh said there used to be more sins and you got in more trouble for them in the old days, but sin is still with us today. Ian put up his hand and asked if it was a sin to disguise your voice in the confession box. Mrs. Kavanagh said it might be like telling a lie but she wasn’t sure, so she would ask Father Burke. Ian squawked: “Don’t tell him it was me asking!” And the whole class burst out laughing. Then Kim asked what would happen if you committed a sin and went to confession, but then you ran home before saying your Hail Marys or whatever your penance was, and you got run over by a bus and died.

Mrs. Kavanagh said she didn’t think it would be a problem, at least for our souls, but she gave us a lecture on crossing the street safely.

Ian was teasing Kim afterwards at Four-Four Time, making a noise like a bus and pretending he was going to knock her down.

“You’re dead! You died in a state of sin! Going to hell. Next. Beep beep.” And he went after another kid and pretended the same thing.

Jenny Delaney asked what he was doing, so I said it was all about 70

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dying with a sin on your soul. Then I told her I remembered something about telling God you’re sorry even if you don’t get to confession. There’s this prayer you can say, the Act of Contrition, and it’s supposed to work too.

Jenny looked really worried: “But if you don’t have time even to say the prayer, if you sin and then die a second later, does that mean you go to hell?”

“I guess so,” I said, “or you have to wait for hundreds of years before you can be with God in heaven. It’s an in-between place you go to. I can’t remember the name of it. Anyway, people have to say prayers to get you out of there.”

“That doesn’t sound good!”

“I know, but you don’t have to worry about it. Cross at the cross-walk, and look both ways, and you won’t get killed. Or just don’t commit any sins.”

“It’s not me.” Jenny looked around to make sure nobody was listening. “It’s Mum!”

“Your mum wasn’t a sinner. They wrote all this good stuff about her in the paper.”

“I know. She was always really good. Except just before she died.

She committed a sin! Or what might be a sin, I’m not sure.”

I was worried then too. “What did she do?” I whispered.

“She swore!”

“No!”

“Yes! My sisters and brothers don’t know this because I was the only one awake. And even then, I fell back asleep and didn’t get to save her. I don’t know how I could have saved her, but maybe I could have done something. Anyway I was so tired I went back to sleep.”

“There’s probably nothing you could have done. You shouldn’t worry, Jenny.” Then I couldn’t help it, I was curious. “What swear word did she say? Don’t say it yourself, just say the first letter.”

“Well, I’m not sure if it was swearing, but it sounded like it. She said

‘Jesus!’ I know it’s bad to say that. Then she said ‘hell’s angels!’ in a loud voice. I think that’s swearing. That’s all I could hear, so whatever else she said must have been in a normal voice and maybe wasn’t bad.”

Hells Angels! That probably
was
a sin, a sin I had committed myself, and so had my whole family! We have all said those words in 71

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our house. I have done my own personal research into angels; I’m trying to figure out if Father Burke is one himself, even though he doesn’t look it, because he has spirits around him when he’s on the altar in church. You should see the picture I drew of him looking happy all in white with wings in my diary. I added a picture of Dominic peeking around the bottom edge of the robe by Father’s feet. Dominic can crawl now, so it’s really cute. Anyway, I’ve seen all kinds of pictures of angels. And I could never figure out how the Hells Angels — who are a motorcycle gang! — are allowed to call themselves that name. Hell is bad, so they must be saying they are bad angels. I figured they looked more like devils. I always secretly hoped I would see one. I only saw them speeding by on their motorcycles, but never up close, standing still. And whenever we drove by their clubhouse, which is near where Tommy’s girlfriend lives, we would see all the motorcycles outside but we never saw any of the gang members themselves. Tommy always takes that street to get to Lexie’s apartment, even though he doesn’t have to. He slows down and stares at all the bikes. And one time our family had a barbecue with the families of a bunch of lawyers, and one of them — Katie Sheehan’s dad — said he had actually been to a Hells Angels lobster party!

So all along we’ve probably been swearing whenever we’ve mentioned their name. I shouldn’t say this, but I got even more curious to see one of these “angels from hell” after Jenny told me about her mum saying their name.

I asked Jenny: “Who was your mum talking to when she said it?”

She looked at me as if I had asked a question she didn’t understand, or it didn’t make sense to her. Then she said: “She was all alone when she died, so there couldn’t have been anybody there for her to talk to.”

“So the bad words were the only thing you heard?”

“Yeah. She must have been thinking about something, or remembering something bad, and swore really loud, to herself. How can we find out if ‘Hells Angels’ is swearing? Is there a list?”

“I don’t know. If there’s a list, maybe it’s a sin to look at it!” We were both quiet then, trying to figure out what to do. I said: “Let’s ask Father Burke. I saw him out in the hallway.”

So we went over to see him. Jenny was too shy, so I did the talking. “Hi, Father.”

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“Normie and Jenny. How are the girls today?”

“Fine thank you, Father. Can we ask you something?”

“Sure you can.”

“Is it okay if we say something that may be a swear word, but we don’t know for sure? ’Cause that’s the question we have to ask.”

“Ask away.”

“Is it swearing if you say ‘Hells Angels’? Especially in a loud voice?”

He didn’t laugh but his eyes looked like he was going to laugh, if you know what I mean. He said: “It’s not swearing, but don’t let me catch you girls roaring up here on a motorcycle and coming in with a Hells Angels patch on your jackets! Then I’ll think you’re up to no good, the pair o’ youse.”

“What do you mean?” Jenny asked.

“The Hells Angels are a motorcycle gang and some of their activities are, well, not the sort of activities we’d encourage in young Catholic children.”

“We won’t act like them,” I promised him. “Why would your mum say their name, Jenny?”

“Your mum?” Father Burke asked, looking at Jenny.

So Jenny told him: “I was scared Mummy might be in hell because she said ‘Hells Angels!’ But if it’s not a swear word, then it’s not a sin, right?”

Father Burke squatted down in front of Jenny and held her hand.

He said: “It’s not a sin at all. How long have you been worrying about this, Jenny?”

Jenny’s eyes flicked over to me and then back to Father Burke. “I wasn’t worried all the time. She just said it once, uh, one night.”

“Well, you can be sure your mum is right there with God in heaven. Everybody knows what a lovely and kind woman she was. I’ll bet she’s watching over you right now.”

“I hope she’s not mad at me, for thinking she might have been a sinner!”

He just shook his head as if to say no, Jenny had no reason to worry.

“I’m sure your dad would reassure you that there’s nothing to worry about with respect to your mother’s soul! Did you tell him about it?”

She shook her head again.

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“How come?”

“Because in our house you’re not allowed to say ‘hell.’ My brother got in trouble one time for telling one of my other brothers to go to hell. We’re not allowed to say ‘Jesus’ in a bad way either, or ‘God.’ So I didn’t want to say it or get Mummy in trouble for saying it. Even though she’s dead now.”

Father Burke said: “Ah. The perils of a Catholic education.”

Whatever that meant. “I’m sure you won’t be in trouble if you talk it over with your dad. He’ll set your mind at ease.”

Then he put his arm around Jenny and hugged her because she started to cry. He wiped the tears off her face. “When I say my first Mass tomorrow, I’m going to say it for your mum, and for you and your whole family.”

“Okay. That’s good. Thank you, Father.”

“But in the meantime I think you should have something to lift your spirits a bit. What do you like as a special treat, Jenny?

Chocolate? Ice cream?”

“I like both!” she blurted out. Then her face turned red, because she must have thought she was being greedy.

But he just said: “Sure don’t we all! A chocolate sundae perhaps?”

“Yeah!” Her eyes were really big.

“What else do you like on it?”

“Sprinkles!”

“How about you, Normie?”

I was glad I was getting one too, but I tried not to let it show.

After all, it wasn’t me whose mother was dead. But it would be rude not to answer, so I said: “I like marshmallow on mine. Whenever I get one. It doesn’t have to be today.”

“Tell you what,” he said. “Why don’t you girls go on with your music and I’ll go out and get some stuff for ice cream sundaes, and we’ll have kind of a sundae-making party. You two girls will be in charge of making them for the other kids, scooping up the ice cream and putting the toppings on. How does that sound?”

“Great!” Jenny and I both said it at once, and we had big grins on our faces.

So he left to go to Sobeys or wherever priests buy their groceries, and we practised our piano lessons, but we had our minds on the treats 74

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to come. When he arrived back at the choir school, he had everything you could imagine. Chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry ice cream, chocolate sauce, butterscotch sauce, marshmallow sauce, coloured sprinkles and cherries, tall plastic sundae dishes, and long see-through sundae spoons in all kinds of colours. He set everything out on a table and called me and Jenny over, and gave us these plastic scoops. Hers was red and mine was blue. The kids freaked out! He told them me and Jenny — Jenny and I — were going to make them whatever kind of sundae they wanted, with as many toppings as we could fit on. He made us wash our hands first, but that was okay. It only took a couple of minutes, and then everybody lined up for their homemade sundaes.

Most of the kids wanted every single kind of ice cream and topping we had, but they wanted them in different orders, so then everybody could compare the designs before gobbling them up. Jenny and I had so much fun it didn’t even matter that we didn’t get to make our own until the end. Then we remembered to make one for Father Burke. He said it was brilliant. Jenny seemed to forget all about the Hells Angels.

†

I was still stuffed when it came time for dinner that night, which was too bad because we all went out to eat at Ryan Duffy’s. I love it there, so I ordered what I always get anyway, fish and chips, even though I could only eat half of it. The whole family was there, including Tom’s girlfriend, Lexie, and also Father Burke. The sundaes didn’t stop him from eating all his steak. Daddy was with us at first but he had to leave before dessert and write some kind of emergency paper for the Supreme Court, which he was supposed to finish at the office but didn’t. He said goodbye to us and left.

Father Burke looked at Dominic in his high chair and then at Mummy and said: “Have you told him yet?” He meant Daddy.

He said it in a really quiet voice, and that made me pay attention.

Tom and Lexie were talking in their regular voices, so I knew they weren’t talking about anything secret.

“No. Anything to do with the baby puts him all out of gear. He won’t want to hear about it.”

“He can hardly miss it once things heat up.”

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“I’ll deal with Monty when I have to, not a moment sooner.”

“Mother of God,” Father Burke muttered. Then he put his hand up, and the waiter came over. “Another Irish here. MacNeil?”

“Nothing for me, thanks.”

The waiter brought the Irish, which is a nickname for a kind of booze. They say it’s even stronger than beer.

“Do you really need that, Brennan?” Mum said to him.

“Do I
hhwattt?
” That’s what it sounded like, as if ‘what’ had all kinds of extra letters in it. He looked at Mummy as if she had said something crazy.

“Do you need another glass of whiskey? Do you
need
to drink?”

“I enjoy a drink, MacNeil, I don’t need it.”

“Are you sure you know the difference?”

“What are you on about? You’ve managed to skate away from the topic of most importance here, custody of little Dominic, which you should be dealing with, and instead you’re giving out to me about my drinking!”

They were talking even more quietly now. Tommy and Lexie didn’t seem to hear them, but I did.

You would think Father Burke would say to Mum: “It’s none of your business!” But he always tells them what to do, like telling Daddy he should sell his house and move back in with us. And they gave up telling him it’s none of
his
business because he just laughs, or says he was put on the earth to see that God’s will is done. So I guess he figured it was his turn to be told what to do.