Bless Us Father (32 page)

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?” Maggie asked.

“No, no. I just wait a leetle bit. Catch my breath.”

Concerned now, Maggie asked, “Are you ill? Shall I call someone?”

“I have trouble with my breath sometimes. The doctor say it is, how you say it? Inseema? He say I smoke too much. I stop, but it still there.”

“Do you mean Emphysema?”

“Si, si. That it. I go to the hospital because my chest hurt too much, and they keep me there many days. I had tests and needles and then the doctor tell me my blood pressure, it too high and my breathing very bad. He say if I don stop the smoking, I die too soon. Aye, he give me too much medicine for everything. Heart, breathing, blood pressure. I take pills all the time. It cost me too much money. My retirement money from the railroad not enough.”

“I don’t think we’re going to have to worry about money again after Monday,” Maggie said, looking across the plaza towards a group of children that were laughing and chasing each other around.

“It will be good to have money for my old age. My life, it not been good one. I work too hard, my wife she leave me long ago. At least my sons are respectful to their father. They take care of me.”

“Did you marry again?” Maggie asked, wondering if he’d fallen into the same trap she had of trying to find someone that would take care of her.

“No. I don want to marry again. It better for me to stay alone.”

“I know what you mean. I shouldn’t have married again. I didn’t learn my lesson the first time. Stupid me.”

Javier fixed her with a knowing, sympathetic smile. His brown eyes radiated warmth. “You not stupid. Just too much alone. I been too much alone since my wife die, but I too old now to start again with another woman.”

They watched a pair of young Hispanic mothers walk across the plaza, babies in strollers and toddlers holding onto the sides as they walked. The women chatted animatedly as the strolled along, obviously enjoying being out for the day.

“They look relaxed and like they don’t have a care in the world,” Maggie commented. She knew she shouldn’t feel jealous of the women, but she did.

“My wife, she very wise. When she dying of the cancer, she see on the TV about all the people that were abuse by priests, and she tell me I must fight for my rights. She insist that I tell my children and they help me find lawyer, Miss Monahan. You know, until then, my wife the only one who know about my big problem. She say I can’t take it to my grave. I need to be absolved.”

For a moment, Maggie was taken aback. She’d never brought the subject up to anyone in her life except for Kelly, after having tried to tell her parents, and here this man was opening up to her. How could he do that so easily?

“But Javier, how did your wife know about your problem?”

“When I met her, she know I was raised a Catholica. She know my parents come the United States from Mexico when I jus a boy, and my mother and father, they tell her they very good Catholicas. They tell her they make sure I always go Mass, and they work very hard so their children go to Catholic school. We live in East LA then and it very cheap for us to go to Catholic school. I was altar boy and that when the Father start doing things to me.”

Maggie felt a blush of shame wash over her, thinking about her own experience with a priest
doing things.

“Then when I ask my wife marry me, I tell her I refuse to get marry in the church, and if she want marry me, she have to go to the courthouse. I also tell her she can go to church, but our children will not.”

“She was Catholic?” Maggie asked. “I’m surprised she would agree.”

“She ask me why and I don’ tell her for a long time, then one day I just wan to and I tell her what hoppen to me. She get so mad she wan me to tell other people, but I don. She say okay, we don get married in the church and we don raise our children in the church. She fine another church to go to, not Catholic, and she go, but I don’.”

“That must have made you feel good. That someone believed you and was willing to stand up for you that way,” Maggie said, sorrow washing over her because no one had believed her or backed her up.

“My wife gave me much peace in my life. She was gift from God,” Javier said.

“I never went to church again, either,” Maggie said. “I didn’t raise my daughter in the church. Once I was out of my parent’s house, that was the end of my Catholicism.”

“So, Maggie. You don have to tell me if you don wan, but what hoppen to you? I don mean everythin, I jus mean how the priest...?”

Maggie looked down at the ground, pursed her lips, and didn’t answer Javier.

“Okay, first I tell you what hoppen me. When I was altar boy, the priest make friends me, and he visit my parents all the time. Then he tell them I need more experience, and he be happy to take me places with him. He even take me overnight to his cabin in the mountain, and he give me beer to drink. He take other Mexican boys, too. Our parents so happy and honored the priest treating us special. They never know what the priest really doing. They jus think the priest almost like Jesus or God, never nothing bad.”

Tears welled up in Maggie’s eyes, but she blinked them back and forced herself to speak. “I’ve never told anyone outside of my immediate family, and they never believed me. And of course now the whole world knows, or they soon will. I guess I’d better get used to this.”

She swallowed hard, closed her eyes, and brought the memory to the surface. “When I was just fifteen years old, my mom got me a job answering phones in the rectory of our church after school. It was perfect at first. I earned money, I could do my homework, and the housekeeper was a fantastic cook. Yes, it was perfect until Father Antonio Velasquez picked me to be his special one....”

Maggie talked until the sun started to drop behind the little La Placita church on the west side of Main Street. Javier listened attentively, sometimes patting her hand and sometimes shaking his head in sorrow.

“We are damaged souls, Mamita. Damaged goods.”

“Yes, Javier, we are. Through no fault of our own.”

Javier dug in his pocket, pulled out a clean handkerchief and handed it to Maggie. “No, Mamita. It is time to go feed our damaged souls. It is time for tacos, chips and margaritas. No?”

“I agree. I’m starved,” Maggie said, amazed at how hungry she was and at how light she felt. It was like a heavy burden had taken flight out of her body. “Come on Sadie, I’ll buy you a beef taco or two. We’ll hold everything but the meat and cheese.”

The little dog got to her feet and strained on her leash, knowing something was about to happen.

They walked a few steps, then Maggie stopped and turned to Javier.

“I need to thank you for encouraging me to talk and then for listening to me. Thank you so much. I just can’t believe how relieved I feel after all these years.”

Javier smiled shyly and looked down at the ground. He shuffled a few steps then said, “You welcome, Maggie. I hope we can be friends. I theenk we both need a friend.”

Life being what it is, one dreams of revenge.

-Paul Gauguin-

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

For the first time in many years, Maggie woke up at the crack of dawn looking forward to greeting the day. She tried not to disturb Sadie sleeping on the blanket Maggie had spread beside her on the bed.

She showered and dressed in the new clothing she’d purchased the day before while in Olvera Street. She didn’t know what had possessed her, but when she saw the white muslin blouse embroidered with red, yellow and turquoise flowers hanging outside one of the little shops, she couldn’t resist it. She and Javier went inside then and she found a pair of turquoise crinkled cotton capris that matched the blouse and fit her perfectly.

She surveyed herself in the mirror and decided she needed just a touch of lipstick now that her face had some color in it from walking in the sun yesterday.

“Let’s go, Sadie. We’re taking the car today instead of walking. It was just too hot yesterday, wasn’t it?”

The little dog wagged her tail and waited patiently for Maggie to get her purse and the leash.

They walked the short distance to Javier’s room and Maggie knocked on the door.

“Good morning, Mamita. That color look good on you,” he said when he opened the door. “It make your eyes look very blue.”

Maggie’s face flushed with pleasure at the seldom heard compliment. “Thank you, Javier. I think this cotton fabric will be much cooler than what I had on yesterday.”

“We not walking today? I too much tired last night, and my breath not so good.”

Alarm shot through Maggie’s chest at the thought of the possibility of losing her new friend. “Are you sure you’re okay to go out?” she asked.

“Oh, I fine. No problem. We jus take it easy, okay?”

Relief flooded over her. “I’ll drive. I already put the dog crate in my car for Sadie. I always put her in it and strap her in with the seat belt. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my friend.”

“That good, Maggie. You good dog mom.”

They drove the few blocks to Our Lady Queen of Angels Cathedral and parked in the underground parking structure. It was Sunday, and people were leaving from an earlier mass.

“Do you want to go inside the church?” Maggie asked. “We’ll probably have to go one at a time since I have the dog.”

“I no wan to go to Mass, but I hear there a leetle chapel in there dedicated to victims. They put up pictures of many young people. I wan to see that.”

“Let’s go over to the information booth and find out exactly where that is. I don’t want to go to Mass, either, but I would like to see the inside of the Raj Mahal.”

“Raj Mahal? What that? I thought that in India?”

Maggie chuckled to herself, then said, “The TAJ Mahal is in India. A lot of people call this cathedral the Raj Mahal because it’s Roger Mahoney’s big pet project.”

They found out that the chapel wasn’t too far inside the entrance to the cathedral, and walked to the huge bronze doors.

“Do you want to go in first?” Maggie asked.

“I wan go together,” Javier said. “No one watching us. Why not carry little dog inside? Maybe no one see or care. Besides, that Paris Hilton, she do it all the time.”

Maggie glanced around and deciding Javier was probably right, she picked Sadie up, opened her huge purse, and deposited Sadie inside so that only her head stuck out.

They hurried in and looked into each of the tiny chapels bordering the entry hallway until they reached the one dedicated to the victims of molestation. As they entered the tiny chapel, Javier grasped Maggie’s free hand, and she didn’t pull it away. They stared at the photos on poster board of many young victims.

Maggie’s eyes filled with unshed tears and she allowed them to stream down her cheeks rather than take her hand away from Javier’s. She could feel the tension emanating from him.

“There are so many, and they look so young and innocent,” she said.

“Jus like us, Maggie. We young and innocent, too.”

They stood together for a long time until finally, Javier let go of Maggie’s hand and reaching into his pocket, pulled a clean white handkerchief out and wiped her cheeks dry. She almost teared up again at this act of tenderness, but managed to restrain herself.

“Thank you, Javier. Let’s go outside. I don’t want to see anymore of this.”

They walked over to what looked like a children’s playground and found a bench under the shade of a small olive tree. Maggie took Sadie out of her purse and placed her on the ground.

“We sit awhile, then maybe go have breakfast somewhere,” Javier said, wiping his brow with the handkerchief stained with Maggie’s tears.

“I don’t want to stay here too long. I’m feeling a little sick to my stomach,” Maggie said.

The cathedral bells rang signaling that Mass was about to begin. Maggie and Javier made no move to get up from the bench. They watched as the masses of true believers filed into the cathedral.

One elderly man caught Maggie’s eye. Something about him seemed familiar. He was walking with a shuffled gait, actually seeming to be led along by a much younger man. On closer inspection, Maggie could see the younger man was wearing a roman clerical collar.

The elderly man turned towards Maggie and in an instant she knew who it was. Father Antonio. But he looked so old. He was stooped over and looked shorter than she’d remembered. Suddenly it dawned on her. He was old. He was in his late eighties, maybe ninety. Had she expected him not to age? To just stay the way he’d been when she’d last seen him?

She was drawn to him. It was now or never and she was finally going to get to tell him of the hell that had been her life because of him.

“Please hold onto Sadie for me,” Maggie said, handing Javier the leash. “I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting for a response, she stood and walked as swiftly as she could towards the two priests. She caught up to them at the entrance to the cathedral and stopped them from entering by standing directly in front of Father Antonio.