Embracing Darkness (77 page)

Father Poole, who’d been staring at the floor in shame, looked up at Robert Poole as the old man stopped his tirade. The priest walked slowly toward his father. “Along with what, Pop?” asked Phineas.

Jessie approached Father Poole from behind and tugged at his arm. “Come on, Father Fin,” she urged. “Let’s just leave.”

“No,” replied Father Poole. “Not until I hear the rest. Go on, Pop. She had me along with
what
?”

Robert Poole brought his face up to the ceiling as best he could. “Forgive me, Edith,” he intoned. “Forgive me.”

The old man dragged his canes around slowly, the sound again causing goose bumps on Jessie’s skin. What Robert Poole said next was inaudible to both of his guests, so he was forced to repeat himself: “I said, along with your twin sister.”

“I have a twin sister?” replied Father Poole after a long pause, unable to believe what he’d just heard. “But how can that be? Mother never said… .”

“She kept it hidden. She forced Edith to agree to give up the baby girl, another part of her master plan.”

Robert Poole sighed deeply and looked around for a place to sit. Father Poole and Jessie went to his aid and guided him to a chair that stood against the wall adjacent to the couch.

“Edith wanted the little girl, but circumstances being what they were she couldn’t keep the child. Her husband would have killed her had he found out she was sleeping with another man. So she agreed to keep the baby girl a secret. She never did want me to tell you because she thought you’d resent us for it, even though I thought about telling you that day at the seminary. Somehow I thought, angry as you were, that you’d understand that it had to be done, given the situation.”

“What happened to the baby?” asked Jessie.

“I took the child to the orphanage in Exeter, and that was the last I saw of her. I never found out whether the child was adopted. I don’t know what became of her.”

“But she was your own flesh and blood,” said Phineas angrily. “Surely you cared about what happened to your own daughter.”

“And what good would that have done, boy?” snapped Robert Poole. “She’d still be lost to us. The heart doesn’t grieve for what the mind doesn’t know.”

Phineas walked back toward the front door, ready to leave 35 Faulkner Street for good, but he remembered who he’d brought with him and the one thing he needed to do more than anything else at that moment.

“I’ll do it myself then,” Father Poole called from the foyer.

“Are you sure, Father Fin?” Jessie asked. “I mean, do you remember how? And aren’t you against this kind of thing anyway? You’re supposed to be a priest.”

“I don’t want a child born only to be abandoned,” replied Father Poole, sounding as if he were on the verge of tears. He returned to the living room and added, “Like my sister.”

Robert Poole nodded, and then said, “Everything you require is still out back in the shed. It’s been carefully stored all these years and should be as good as new with a quick sterilization.”

Phineas knelt down and picked up the satchel he’d brought with him. “I brought something to put it in once it’s all over,” he remarked.

Robert Poole limped over to the kitchen window, where he watched his son walk out to the shed with Jessie.

Twenty-Seven
Armageddon
 

The bus ride back to Holly was uncomfortable for Father Poole and Jessie, more so than the one they’d taken to Portsmouth a few hours before. The sky was now overcast; it was almost dusk; and the temperature had plummeted fifteen degrees from its high of the day.

“I can’t believe you brought it with you,” said Jessie, a hint of anger and resentment in her voice as she peered down at the satchel that contained her tiny, dead fetus.

“I want it buried in a place that means something to you,” said Father Poole.

“Why?” she snapped. “It’s not like it meant anything special to me while it was alive.”

“It was your child, Jessie, your own flesh and blood.”

With all the emotion at 35 Faulkner Street, Phineas had forgotten to say a prayer for the thing that would never be a baby and for his own soul that now, he believed, was in peril once again. He took from his breast pocket a little box, opened it, pulled out a set of rosary beads, and began praying.

Jessie leaned her head against the window and also closed her eyes but for an entirely different reason. She was holding back tears and still hurt. It was as much emotional as physical. Besides her body’s aching from the procedure, her heart ached from what Father Poole had told her: “‘It was your child, Jessie, your own flesh and blood.’” Her heart ached as well for Billy, for now she believed she’d never see him again. And it ached from the constant fear she’d felt since her attack. All the while, Jack White’s face kept appearing in her mind.

In her state of emotional turmoil Jessie thought about Sister Ignatius with immense fondness, recalling how the nun had been an anchor of protection and security in her life. She particularly remembered, though why Jessie couldn’t say, one time when she had succeeded in climbing the maple higher than any of the boys. Sister Ignatius had heard them cheering and screaming Jessie’s name, so she ran outside to see what all the commotion was about. When she saw Jessie up so high, Sister took it upon herself to climb the tree halfway and demanded that Jessie get down before she made the girl’s behind black and blue.

“God, I miss her,” Jessie muttered.

Father Poole stopped his praying and smiled because he knew to whom Jessie was referring. “I know, sweetheart,” he said, gently tapping the back of her hand. She didn’t shy away from his touch anymore. “I do too,” he added.

Jessie wiped away the rest of the tears. “I need her now more than ever. Why can’t I see her?” she asked in a shaky voice. “You know how much I love her, Father Fin, and you won’t let me see her.”

Father Poole hunched closer to Jessie and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. “Because it’s the way she wanted it,” he told her. “She’s so sick, Jessie. You’ve no idea how bad it is, and I have to respect her wishes. She doesn’t want any of you children, you especially, to see her this way.”

“What way? I don’t even know what’s wrong with her. All you said was that it might be cancer, and that was months ago.”

“It
is
cancer,” the priest said at last, hesitating to finish what he’d intended to say. “
Brain
cancer.”

Jessie immediately put her hand to her mouth, the tears flowing even more abundantly now. “Oh no,” she sobbed softly to herself. “I didn’t know you could get it in… .”

Father Poole nodded and reached over to hug her.

“How?” she asked, appearing almost inconsolable, as other riders on the bus began taking notice. Noting this attention, Phineas removed his hands from Jessie’s shoulders and sank back into his seat.

“Jessie,” he said. “I need you to keep your composure. Cry all you want, but wait until we’re back home. We’ll be there in a matter of minutes.”

She didn’t say another word to the priest until they arrived at the bus depot.

Father Poole gave Jessie the satchel. At first she jerked back, repulsed by the bag’s contents, and refused to take it, but he forced it into her hand. “Just bring it up to the rectory and leave it some place where no one will find it,” he told her. “Put it in my office if you must, but don’t let anyone know its contents.”

She nodded passively and then asked why he wasn’t coming back up to the rectory with her.

“I’m going back to see Sister,” he replied, “and I might be spending more time with her now that she’s… .”

“Now that she’s
what
?” Jessie said, sounding almost frantic.

“She’s what they call terminal, Jessie.”

“
Terminal
?” she said, frustrated that she didn’t understand the word. “Then take me with you!”

“Absolutely not. Why, she’d never forgive me!”

“Father Fin,
I
would never forgive you if you didn’t let me see her one last time.”

The priest thought for a moment, but no words came that could explain the situation’s delicacy. He wanted to respect Sister’s wishes, but he also knew that Jessie had grown into an intelligent, headstrong young woman who always spoke her mind. Furthermore, he hated the distance that had arisen between the two of them since Jessie’s rape.

“Alright, my love,” he said, hugging her. “I’ll talk to Sister when I see her tonight. I’ll make her understand how important it is that you see her, but I should warn you that her appearance has changed. Her hair is thin, and she’s lost a lot of weight. She won’t be how you remember her.”

“The last time I saw her,” Jessie replied, “she looked pretty much like what you’ve described.”

“It’s much worse now.”

I’ll be ready for anything.”

“Are you sure?”

Jessie inhaled deeply and nodded, fighting back her emotions. “Yes, Father Fin. I’m sure.”

When the priest told her he’d be back the next day, possibly before nightfall, and to be sure that everyone minded what Mr. White said, Jessie made her opinion known. “Father Fin, we keep telling you over and over that there’s something wrong about this guy.”

Father Poole shook his head and frowned. “Dear Jessica, how many times are you going to come to me with this report? The man is not dangerous. I’ve left him alone with you all before, and nothing bad happened. The sky didn’t fall down. The place didn’t burn to the ground. None of you died.”

At that moment Jessie thought of Sue Ellen and Ziggy but then figured that he was right. Ziggy hadn’t died while Father Fin was away. “So I guess we just have to accept it,” said Jessie. “Jack White’s not going anywhere, is he? He’s going to stay with us for good?”

“Yes,” answered Father Poole, turning to see what time it was by the big clock on the station wall. “Listen. My bus leaves in two minutes, and I have to go. Please, Jessie. I’ll speak to Sister for you. In the meantime bring that bag up to the rectory and put it in a safe place. And
please
don’t give Mr. White any grief. I know none of you understand him, but I do, and I’m the one in charge. I take people in who need me, just like your brothers. They needed me, and I took them in. I love Zach… that is, I love
Jack
, just as I do all of you.”

Jessie didn’t make anything out of Father Poole’s slip of tongue.

The priest kissed Jessie on the forehead, hopped on his bus, and was soon bound for Exeter.

Although the orphanage in Exeter was not more than a half hour’s walk from Holly, Father Poole decided that, because it was getting dark and growing colder by the minute, it was worth the twenty-cent bus fare to lie back and snooze before arriving there.

While on the bus he reflected on what Jessie had just said about Jack White, but Father Poole knew that this was a special man who needed to be understood by someone. Then he thought of Ellen, loaded up on morphine and alone in her room until his arrival. He wondered what her reaction would be when he told her that he had divulged to Jessie the nature of her illness. He knew that Sister would be angry with him, but Father Poole was in the business of trying to please everyone at the expense of his own happiness. Such was part of his atonement for the sins he’d committed years earlier in the shed.

Phineas then thought about what his father had confessed about his having a twin sister. Father Poole had been so concerned about Jessie while performing her abortion that he’d forgotten about the other big shock. Now that he remembered his father’s revelation, the priest couldn’t get it out of his head.

He got to the orphanage at around 6:00 in the evening. Finding Sister Ignatius asleep, no doubt due to the heavy dosage of morphine her doctor had prescribed, Father Poole went downstairs to the living room and sat for a while. He would wait until Sister awakened, which would happen once the medicine wore off. It would be followed by a slight disorientation in which she would not know at first where she was.

It was fairly common now for Sister to sleep throughout the day, only to spend the first part of the night screaming and carrying on about not knowing why she was there. Only when Phineas came would Ellen be calm enough to be given her morphine; only he could make her drink the painkiller. This was the main reason why Father Poole needed to be at the orphanage by nightfall. As he waited for his beloved to wake up, screaming profanity loud enough for the sleeping orphan girls to giggle nervously under their blankets, he’d get himself emotionally ready for the scene soon to ensue.

Mrs. Louise Moorhead, current Director of the Exeter Orphanage for Girls, greeted Father Poole as she walked into the living room. She was a pleasant enough woman whose age could be inferred from the many creases on her face.

“How are you this evening, Father?” she asked in a soft, pleasant voice.

“Tired but well,” he replied, noticeably exhausted.

Mrs. Moorhead looked up toward the stairs. “She’s not due to wake up for another four hours or so. You have plenty of time to lie on the couch and take a nap.”

“Thank you.”

“After all, Exeter Orphanage turns no one away.” She glanced at him solemnly. “That’s our motto.”

Father Poole laughed in spite of himself. He’d thought of that same slogan for the Benson Home for Abused and Abandoned Boys several years back, but what Louise Moorhead had just said played over and over in Father Poole’s mind. Suddenly he felt as though he’d just been hit by a locomotive. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t made the connection until now. He walked toward Mrs. Moorhead and stopped just short of her.

“Mrs. Moorhead, I need to know something. Did this place exist in 1892?”

She was taken slightly aback by the unexpected question. She thought for a moment or two before replying, “The orphanage was founded in the late 1860s, I believe. Why do you want to know?”

“When did Sister Ignatius come here as a child?”

Mrs. Moorhead closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t know whether I should divulge that information to you, Father. I would rather have Sister’s consent first. Certain information about our orphans is classified. In any event let me ask her permission in a moment when she’s lucid and calm.”