Wrestling With God

by Hanley, Don;

  "Now, I'll pardon you for playing your identity joke on me. That is quite a story. On the issue of Father Joe becoming a bishop, I did discover that he was on the list last year, soon after I was appointed to the Belleville diocese. I took him off of that list. I also removed him from this chancery office. I just did not like the man. He comes across to me as a conniver rather than a person who wishes to help people. I guess my hunch was correct. So, now, Rebecca, what have you found?"

  "Well, first, thank you for getting the DNA sample for us. It matches the DNA of a woman who gave birth to a child, a girl, who is now fifteen years old. So there was the possibility of a paternity suit but Len just got a call that the woman and her daughter just left town and left no notice of where they were going. But I have discovered five victims of Carson's seductions. At least four, perhaps five, who are willing to testify. His pattern seems to be this: he finds a child, age ten to early teens, who is from a broken home and who is very needy, both financially and emotionally. Then begins to ask them to help him with this or that, and then after a few weeks or months, he tells them that they are very special and that he would like to do "special things" with them. These special things are sexual and includes oral sex, and often intercourse, as evidenced by the woman I mentioned who got pregnant. I have recently learned that he is currently molesting a girl here in Belleville, but I have yet to interview her. Now we need to decide what to do."

  The bishop seemed to be stunned by my revelations. He said, "My Lord, I had some suspicions about him, but I had no idea he was, or is, such a criminal. We must get him off the streets, as they say. What do you recommend, Mr. Stewart? Have you confirmed Ms. Brady's evidence and have you talked to your boss, the District Attorney?"

  "Yes, Bishop, I have talked to the DA and I also met with one of Rebecca's witnesses who is a very intelligent young woman, and she corroborates Rebecca's statements. We need to arrest Father Joe Carson and, as you say, get him off the streets."

  Bishop Rider interrupted Len and said, "Of course, we need to confirm all ofthis. Remember that these cases have bankrupted several dioceses, and I want to see some of the documents corroborating Ms. Brady's evidence before we go very far.

  Len seemed a bit upset with the Bishop's comments but went on, "We will obtain oral and written statements of all the victims we have already mentioned that they will testify. Ms. Brady and her husband, Jerry Haloran, who is helping her, would like to have all this handled as humanely as possible for the sake of the victims, and the Catholic Diocese and other priests. Jack, tell the bishop one of your ideas."

  Jack cleared his throat. "Bishop, anything I say has nothing to do with my relationship with my brother Joe. I really don't have a relationship with him. As I stated earlier, I haven't seen him for about twenty years and when I did see him as an adolescent and young man, he was always a selfish bastard. Pardon my language, Bishop, but that is what he was and it seems, still is. Anyway, I had a thought of his serving time in a prison in Illinois and if he is seen to be reforming and realizing his humanity, he could perhaps work as a prison inmate counselor - a role where he would be kept safely away from children and adolescents. Most importantly, he should demonstrate that he is on the road to finding, what I call, his TRUE self. Then, if he seems to be growing as a person, he could be employed to work in a prison as a counselor, as I have been doing the past several years. As you may know, he is very intelligent and why let that go to waste, if he truly reforms himself. That's the bare bones outline, so ... The very last thing we would want to see is to have him merely moved to a different diocese or parish where he could continue his horrible behavior."

  The bishop nodded and asked, "On the latter point of merely transferring him, I assure all ofyou that will not happen. Unfortunately, it has happened too often in the past. And you mentioned 'true self'; are you referring to Thomas Merton's term, when he speaks of spiritual development?" Jack nodded and the Bishop continued, "How would you, or anyone else, determine that?"

  Jack chuckled, "That's a good question for, I believe, it is what the Chinese call a 'Koen', if I say I am a mystic, I am not a mystic. If I say I am in touch with my 'true self' then I probably am not. On the other hand, in my prison in Missouri, Jerry Haloran, two other psychologists, the assistant warden and me are involved in training prospective prison counselors. We will not 'certify' them until we believe they are on the road to being in touch with their 'true' selves. Of course, it is not an exact science. If Joe Carroll is on the road within five years, we will know, I believe."

  Rider turned to Len, "Mr. Stewart, if you are to arrest Joe Carson-Carroll, when would you expect to do so?"

  "Bishop, I would like to do so today or tomorrow. I would like to have the testimony of the girl here in Belleville before we make the arrest, in case the others are eliminated because of the statute of limitations." He turned to me and asked, "Rebecca, is it possible for you to interview her this afternoon? I ask you because you seem to have a real knack for these interviews and so ."

  I had been planning to do this before I left Belleville, so I said, "Yes, I was planning to."

  Bishop asked everyone present, "Is there any way to keep this from making too much of a news splash? Could we wait a few days before you arrest Father Carson?"

  Len Stewart said, "I wouldn't want to wait longer than tomorrow evening. It will depend on what we find out from the girl whom Father Joe is accused of molesting now. All we can do is just not have any kind of press release until after the arrest and the clamor demands it. Then it will be public knowledge and, well, it will make the Belleville, St. Louis, and Chicago papers, then everywhere, I imagine. What do you think, Rebecca?"

  "I don't see how we could keep the lid on it for very long. All we can do is say 'no comment' as long as possible, and then .. "

  We started to get up to leave when the bishop said, "Before you leave, Jack, would you please tell me why you are so different from your brother? After all, your training ground in prison should have been far less rich, spiritually, than the seminary and priesthood should have been for Father Joe."

  Jack looked at me and asked, "Rebecca, do you think I should tell him what I said to you and Jerry? He might kick me out of here?"

  I chuckled, "Sure, it might help him become even more of a people-person." I glanced at the bishop and was glad to see that he was smiling.

  "Bishop, when Jerry and Rebecca asked that question, I said, 'Because I've spent eighteen years wrestling with God. Whereas Joe only married the Church and accepted all of its dictates and answers without question, so .' I hope that doesn't offend you." Jack looked a bit sheepishly at the bishop.

  "Hmm ... Jack, I like your answer. I think the Church, its ministers, and I'm ashamed to say, I often act and talk like we have all just had breakfast with God and now have all the absolute answers, even when we know that we do not. I remember when I was in the seminary and learned of the Inquisition, I was so appalled, I nearly quit the seminary. I hope we have out-grown that terribly wrong-headed time. 'Wrestling with God,' I like that, but we must not forget that the Church has been ordained by God to be the official teacher for us mere mortals. I think we all need to do that as we wrestle with God. Thank you. And thank you, Rebecca, for helping me become more of a 'people kind of person'."

  I didn't appreciate his remark about the church being the 'official' teacher, but now wasn't the time to debate, so I said, "Thank you, Bishop, for listening and taking all this so seriously. I'm sure Len will keep you posted about what we find this afternoon." I was looking forward to telling Jerry about my meeting with His Excellency, as Jerry would have addressed him.

  We left the bishop's office and had lunch at a downtown restaurant. We decided that I would go alone to the address of the girl Maria had mentioned and then, if appropriate, I'd call Len and Jack. They would await my call.

  Chapter 14

  REBECCA

  Father Joe blasted out of the trailer park and nearly ran into me. He looked as angry a
s I felt, but for different reasons, I'm sure. The near accident didn't help my mood. As I looked for Space 28 and Kathy Brassley, I thought of how I would feel if it was my daughter who was being molested. I was raging angry when I spotted number 28 and pulled into a space next to the old, run-down, single-wide house trailer. I took a deep breath and calmed myself before I got out of the car. I went around my car and stood at the step in front of the door and knocked.

  "Whoever you are, go away!" A female voice shouted. She sounded like she was young and choking back tears.

  I took a deep breath and relaxed my shoulders because I knew this girl was hurting, or would be after I told her about what I had learned. I had to raise my voice to shout back, "I'm Rebecca Brady, and I've driven here from St. Louis to talk to you about Father Joe Carson. Please, may I come in and talk to you?" I heard some rustling inside the trailer and hoped she was, at least, thinking about talking to me. A curtain on the door was pulled back and a suspicious face glanced down at me. I smiled - hoping I looked harmless enough to have the door opened for me.

  I was rewarded as the door did open. The young woman or, more correctly, girl, was still crying. She said, "Whadayawant?" My most disagreeable question.

  "If you are Kathy Brassley, I want to talk with you. I'm interviewing young people who knew or know Father Joe Carson. I understand you are one of those people." She opened the door all the way and walked away. I took the open door as a signal that I could enter. I climbed up the two steps and went into the overly-warm and messy trailer. Because it was cold outside, I closed the door even though I thought a little fresh air would help the odor of stale beer and garbage.

  I suppose the space I entered served as the living room. Kathy had disappeared and I guessed it was to go to the bathroom. The couch, across the front of the trailer, had bed sheets and covers strewn across it, so I moved some papers off of a straight back chair and waited. The place was not just tossed up, it was filthy. Dirty dishes were on the small counter and in the sink, unwashed pans and skillets were stacked in with the dishes. I couldn't tell what the floor was made of, it was so dirty. I wondered if Father Joe and Kathy had their trysts in this mess.

  About 10 minutes later, Kathy came into the front room with her hair combed and with fresh lipstick and eye shadow. She looked much older than the reported twelve years. She sat down at the table near me, rested her head on her left hand and said, "Well, Rebecca from St. Louis, what do you want to talk about?" She sounded more adult than I expected, even though I knew it was an act.

  "I want to talk about you and Father Joe Carson. I think I saw him drive out of the trailer park as I was driving in. In fact, he almost ran into me. Does he drive a black Chevy Impala?"

  "Yep, that's the bastard's car. He left just before you came. What else do you want to know?" She reached across the table and pulled a pack of cigarettes out of a cloth purse. She lit a cigarette and blew the smoke at me. She relaxed back in her chair and took another drag on the cigarette, mimicking some 1940's movie star.

  I had to continue to hold myself back because something had gone on between her and Father Joe that made her cry. I wanted to be comforting but still strong. "Well, Kathy from Belleville, I'm guessing that something is, or was, going on between you and Father Joe. Would you tell me what he was doing here and why you were crying?" I tried to mimic her rather haughty demeanor, and still sounding sympathetic, hoping that would help her relate to me.

  She stared at me for at least two full minutes. I must have passed some inner test of hers, because she said, "He was here to tell me I should get an abortion and he'd pay for it. I was crying because I loved the bastard not too long ago and I was happy to know that I was pregnant and was looking forward to having the bastard's baby. I had told him over the phone this morning and he came here and told me I was a stupid little bitch and I should get an abortion." The bravado gave way and she broke down crying like the little girl she was. I looked around for some tissue and not finding any in the room, I found a pack in my purse, opened it, and handed her some. I really felt sorry for the poor child.

  She wiped her eyes and said, "Thank you. Now I don't know what to do. Stupid me, I really thought the bastard would really be happy that I would have his baby. Boy, am I stupid. So, you really came at a good time, lady. Is this what you expected to hear?"

  "No, Kathy, it is not." I looked at her with compassion. I expected to hear that Father Joe had molested her and then after a while dropped her because he was tired of her. "It sounds like he has dropped you and left you with a big problem. I don't blame you for calling him a bastard. How long have you been seeing him and are you sure you are pregnant? I was led to believe you were too young to get pregnant. Kathy, how old are you?" I mentally scolded myself for asking too many questions too quickly. I could see her budding breasts through her thin blouse, so she was definitely older than twelve.

  "I turned fourteen two months ago. I began having periods about six months ago. When I didn't have a period three weeks ago, I went to the free clinic this week, and yesterday they confirmed I'm pregnant. Now I don't know what to do. I'm Catholic and the Church says that if I get an abortion, I'll go to hell. And now this asshole priest tells me I should get an abortion." She stubbed out her cigarette in a dirty saucer and added, "I guess that's his way of telling me to go to hell, huh?"

  She was young but definitely not stupid—ignorant maybe, but not stupid. "Kathy, do you live here with your mom?"

  She looked down and then around the trailer as if trying to figure out where she was. "Yeah, I think she's passed out in the back. I'll go see if she's awake. She came home drunk last night. She does that a lot. I haven't seen her today at all. I don't think she even heard Joe come in and me yelling at him." She headed to the back of the trailer and pulled back a faded curtain.

  I waited only a minute before I heard her scream, "Mama, wake up. Wake up!" I jumped up and rushed to the back. Kathy cried as she said, "I think she's dead! Oh my God, what am I gonna do? Help me."

  I quickly moved past her and felt the artery in her neck. I thought there was a slight pulse. I put my ear to her chest and it, too, seemed to move. "Kathy, I think she still has a pulse. I'm going to call 911." She nodded and I grabbed an empty prescription bottle sitting on the night stand and I hurried to the front of the trailer and punched in 911.

  I gave my name and the address of the trailer and then said, "Please hurry with an ambulance. The lady here is barely breathing, I think she has overdosed on ..." I glanced at the bottle and added, "OxyContin."

  I went back to Kathy and put the pill bottle where I found it. Kathy was lying at her mom's side and bawling. I told her about the pills and that the issue date was only a few days earlier. "Kathy, did you see your mom take these last night?"

  "No, I heard her come in last night and stumble around like the drunk she is. Around five, when I got home from the clinic, I told her I was pregnant. She slapped me and I slapped her back. She asked me who the bastard was and I pulled out my cell and showed her Joe's picture. She screamed, 'You're screwing your father? My baby girl is screwing a priest.' Then she tried to give me a hug and I pushed her away. She left in a fit and I thought she went to her favorite bar."

  Pondering the words, 'Screwing your father,' made me think of Ruth Morehouse and her daughter. "Kathy, did you and your mom ever live in Coleman?"

  "Yeah, I was born there but I don't remember living there. Mom said we moved here to Belleville when I was two. Why?"

  "Do you know who your father is?" I was sure she thought her mom meant screwing your priest - like screwing your pastor or preacher. I was glad to hear the siren approaching because I didn't know how to tell her. "I better go move my car and make room for the ambulance."

  I backed my Prius out of the way just as the ambulance pulled up. I jumped out and pointed the paramedics at the door of #28. I called Len Stewart and before he could say anything, I said, "Len, I found Kathy Brassley and she's pregnant and guess who the sperm donor is
? Her mom overdosed and I called 911. The paramedics are here and I'm taking Kathy to the hospital. Please arrest Father Joe Carson before he runs away. Where is he now?"

  "He's at St. Patrick's rectory and we're watching for him and waiting for your call .. Hold on, he's in street clothes and has a suitcase. I have a warrant. I'll call the cops and keep an eye on him until he's in cuffs. See you at the hospital."

  I went to the trailer just as a paramedic asked me to step aside while they maneuvered the stretcher through the trailer door. It was a tight fit. Four ladies came looking to see what the fuss was all about. Kathy followed the paramedics and told the onlookers that her mom was sick and that it wasn't any of their business anyway.

  I told Kathy to get in my car and we followed the ambulance to Belleview's Mercy Hospital. I didn't think there would be a good time to talk about Kathy's father, so I started, "Kathy, has your mom ever talked about your biological father?"

  "Only about a dozen times, like when I bring back all A's on a report card. She always says something like, 'You sure inherited your dad's brains - sometimes she says 'sperm donor's' or 'bastard's brains -cause I never got an A in my life.' I've asked her many times to tell me who, exactly, he is, and she says, 'You don't need to know,' or, 'You don't want to know.'" Kathy looked over at me, "So why do you ask now?"

  "Kathy, your mom said last night, 'You're screwing your father.' When you showed her Joe's picture, right?"

  She looked horrified when I glanced over at her. She nearly screamed, "Oh, my, God. Are you saying that Father Joe might be my very own father? Oh, God!" She started bawling uncontrollably. I put a hand on her arm and she didn't push it away and even put a hand over mine.