It was not unusual for my questions to go unanswered. Frustration and headaches were common ailments in the people around me. My questions were usually the cause of their maladies. I would talk to anyone who would listen. Ah, who am I kidding…listening on their part was not really a requirement, I would talk anyway.
Another day at confession (we had to go like every month), I swore I saw Father Callahan purposely stall another child until Father O’Reilly was free. I didn’t like going to Fr. O’Reilly so much. He wasn’t very patient. He didn’t even seem to like kids.
I did everything I could to try to wait for Fr. Callahan to finish. I tied my laces twice, as slow as possible, hoping Sister would send Danny instead of me. I didn’t think she would keep Father waiting, but that wasn’t happening.
Sister’s shrill voice snapped through me like someone cracked a whip, “Enough, young lady! Father is waiting for you.” She pointed in Fr. O’Reilly’s direction. I took one last glance at Fr. Callahan, but he quickly looked away when my eyes met his. I approached the older priest examining his silver gray hair, his pale face, and bright red nose. If he had a white beard and moustache, he would’ve made a great Santa; that is, if he ever smiled.
His steady gaze never left the Altar. I sat down next to him, suddenly wishing I was in the line for the confessional (The thing that resembles the inside of two coffins upright and put together with a screen in the middle. Brrrr…gives me the willies. It was dark in the confessional, but at least I couldn’t see his grumpy face.)
“Good morning, Father.”
“Good morning.” he said in a dry manner.
“It’s been…” I thought for a moment, “a while since my last confession.” I noticed his eyes twitch.
“A while? What is a while?”
“Oh, since the last time, Sister dragged us over here.” I really had no editing abilities, whatever I thought shot right out of my mouth without a moments hesitation. Father gave me a not so nice look. I didn’t take it personally; everyone has bad days.
My plan was to unload all my sins as quickly as possible, throwing the really bad ones in the middle so maybe he wouldn’t notice so much. “I hid my brother’s cars on account of him taking my stuff one time. I told some tall tales, but Nan says that’s the same as lying.” Father didn’t even look like he was paying attention so I threw in a bigger one. “I fed my brother mud pies against his will. Well, first I just told him they were chocolate cupcakes, and he believed me!” I snorted. Then it dawned on me, “I guess, that’s, uh, lying too, huh?”
Father nodded without ever taking his eyes away from the front of the church. “Well, I only had to lie once because, as soon as I put it in his mouth, he knew they weren’t really pies. I had to force feed him the rest, but only cause I was still mad over my best doll that he ruined,” I puffed. Father didn’t budge. I looked at his chest to make sure it was still moving. It was. Hhhhmmm…maybe this was going to be easier than I thought. I breathed a sigh of relief and went on.
(to be continued...)
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