Wrestling With God

by Hanley, Don;

  "We can get a DNA test rather quickly and find out for sure. We have Joe Carson's DNA record on file. Oh, and another thing, Kathy, when we get to the hospital, you will see another man who looks like Joe Carson. He is Jack Carroll and he is Joe's twin brother. Two people who look alike couldn't be more different. Jack is one of the most loving and kind men I have ever met. The two brothers have not seen each other since they were around l9 or 20 years old. I'm telling you this, so you won't attack him, thinking he's Joe. The police are arresting Joe Carson right now."

  "Why are they arresting Joe? They can't know about me and him already, can they?"

  We were just entering the emergency room parking area, so I said, "We'll talk about that later. Let's go in." I was very surprised that Kathy took my hand as we approached the doors.

  Chapter 15

  REBECCA

  I introduced Kathy Brassley to Len Stewart and Jack Carroll, who were waiting for us in the ER visitors' room. "Len and Jack, I would like you to meet a very brave young woman, Kathy Brassley."

  I excused myself and left a nervous Kathy to get acquainted with the two men. She shook Len's hand but not Jack's. I stepped outside and Jerry answered on the second ring, "Hi, love. How's the wrestling going in Belleville? Who's winning, God or the devil?"

  "Hi, smart aleck, I wish you were here. Really. The wrestling match has turned ugly." I told him about Kathy's plight, her mother's situation, and Father Devil. "I do feel so sorry for Kathy. She is carrying Joe's seed and I don't know much about what kind of offspring she might have, if she carries this fetus to term. What's your thought on that?"

  "From what little I know about incest and pregnancy, it is a crap shoot. The baby could be totally normal in seemingly all ways, or it could be abnormal in many ways—physically, mentally, and emotionally. In any event, I do think she should get an abortion. As you know, I am both anti-abortion and pro-choice, so this should be Kathy's decision, but I would encourage her to get the abortion."

  I saw the doctor walking toward our little entourage, so I said, "I see the doctor coming out of the ER, so I'll call later. Bye, love."

  "Hello, I'm Dr. Kennedy and I've been tending to Ms. Brassley." He focused on Kathy. "Kathy, your mom is still breathing and has a pulse but she is still in trouble and struggling. You may come in and see her but she cannot talk or even know you are in the room. Do you wish to see her?"

  Kathy hesitated a few seconds and then surprised me by saying, "Can Rebecca come with me?"

  The doctor looked at me and said, "Of course, and Rebecca, are you related to the Brassley's?"

  "No, I'm just a friend and had come to visit and discovered the condition of ..." I didn't know mom's first name, so I said, "Kathy's mom. I called 911."

  "Well, it's good you did. Come with me." Kathy took my hand as we followed Dr. Kennedy. He whispered, "She is unconscious, but we do not know what is going on mentally with her, so please do not stay long. I'm the ER physician and will be checking on Loraine every now and then. I'm sure she will not regain consciousness this evening, so if you wish to stay, that is alright, but I'd recommend that you get some rest. It is going to be a long ordeal for her and everyone else."

  I liked Kennedy's gentle bedside manner. After he left the room, Kathy, looking like the scared child she was, said, "Rebecca, would you pray with me?"

  I definitely liked this sad and thoughtful girl much better than the wiseass I had first met. She immediately knelt down at the foot of the bed and I knelt down beside her. Being six inches taller than she, I looked down at her as she blessed herself with the Catholic sign-of-the-cross and began, "God in heaven, please help Mom get through all this. If she does come through, I'll tell her that I prayed for her and that she's better because of you. Maybe that will help her to stop drinking. I'll do my best to help her as much as I can. And, God, I am heartily sorry for screwing up my life with your priest. He was bad but I've been bad, too. Please forgive us both, but most important, give Mom the strength to pull through this." She was crying as she added, "I love you, God."

  That 'I love you, God,' really got to me and I started crying. Kathy looked up at me as if to say, 'You're turn.' Through tears, I prayed aloud, "Dear God, thank you for leading me to Kathy's side in this, her time and her mother's time, of need. Please give them the strength to overcome all these obstacles they now must face, and give me the strength and wisdom to be of help to them." We both continued to cry and to pray silently. My silent prayer was more of a question, "God, why have you created such a difficult and complex world?"

  We wiped our eyes and as we went out to the waiting area, I said, "Well, Kathy, what do you think of Jack Carroll?"

  "As I'm sure you noticed, 'cause you notice everything, I've been studying him. You know the biggest difference between him and Joe is their eyes. Jack has soft, kind eyes like you; Joe has hard, demanding eyes."

  I was amazed that she would say almost the same thing Richy Quinn said. And I was pleased that she said I had soft, kind eyes ... the second time someone has said that to me. We sat down near Jack and Len. Len informed us that the police had arrested Father Joe Carson. He was in the airport parking lot; now he is in the county jail. Len had asked the judge to hold him without bail because he could be a flight risk. "What do you think, Rebecca?"

  I had no idea really so I turned to Jack.

  "I agree with Len. Over the years Joe has demonstrated that he cannot be trusted at all about most anything and he was arrested at the airport. So ... One thing I do know is that I'm hungry and tired. Rebecca, do you want to go back to St. Louis this evening?"

  I saw that Kathy immediately looked fearful and turned to see what I would say. I think she saw me as her lifeline and I had no idea why. I said to her, "I'm sure that you'd like to see your mother in the morning, wouldn't you, Kathy?"

  "Yeah, and can I stay with you tonight?"

  "What do you think, Jack? You came with me, so if I stay, you'll need to ... "

  "I can stay but I will have to check in with the assistant warden, Dan McGuire, because he's the one who arranged for me to come here. Also, I'd kind of like to see Joe's face in jail." I loaned him my cell phone and he called Dan and was given the okay to stay. I offered to put the motel bill on my credit card and Len suggested that the diocese pay for our expenses ... eventually.

  Kathy still looked fearful, so I said, "Kathy, why don't I get a room with two beds and you and I can bunk together. How does that sound?"

  She immediately relaxed and looked quite cheerful for the first time.

  I called Jerry and I told him that we were staying in Belleville and that Father Joe Carson was in jail. He said the second part of my message was good but groaned about the first part, saying, "But, Mommy, I don't want to take care of April and Julie all by myself."

  "Get used to it, you big baby." I knew he was trying to be funny because he knew how serious I must feel and had sounded. His sense of humor and sensitivity is why I love him so much.

  Jack, Kathy, and I had dinner at the Marriott where we would be staying and then all three of us went back to Kathy and Lorraine's trailer. It was a mess and Kathy apologized, "I really am sorry for this place. I've been so depressed these past few months and so mad at my mom, I didn't want to do any housework." When I asked her what they did for money, she said her mom got a small welfare check and looked down at the floor when she said, "Father Joe gave me some money once in a while." She started crying and added, "I guess that makes me a whore, doesn't it?"

  Jack was in the kitchen area cleaning up and I was glad that he didn't hear what Kathy said. I told her, "I guess someone could say that, but I encourage you not to say that of yourself. Surviving can be a difficult job sometimes." I then told her that I was raped when I was fifteen and decided to get an abortion when I found out my stepfather had made me pregnant. I had to borrow the money.

  "Oh, Rebecca, thank you so much for sharing that, because I've really been thinking about the abortion thing. I didn't want to
get one because that bastard Joe wanted me to, but now I want to get one because he was the sperm donor. Knowing that you did get one because of who made you pregnant helps me to do it for the same reason. Getting to know you, Rebecca, really helps. You are such a good person; I can't imagine God condemning you to hell for getting an abortion when you were fifteen. So, thank you, again."

  "Thank you, Kathy. I'm not Catholic, or maybe I'm a Catholic by proxy because I married a priest, so I've spent more time thinking about God the past four years than I did my entire life before. Jerry, my husband, says that God could not be less compassionate than me or him, so I'm sure God will easily forgive you."

  We spent two hours cleaning up the place so that Lorraine could come home to a fairly clean trailer. When we returned to the hotel, Kathy and I spent two or three hours talking about our lives. I learned that Kathy had spent most of her life taking care of her mother and had no close friends or relatives. She considered her peers "immature." I thought she needed a heavy dose of "immature fun." Her imagined maturity explained why she fell for Joe Carson when he started being attentive to her. As was his custom, he told her how 'special' she was. She exclaimed about my accomplishments so much, I began to feel like some kind of celebrity, albeit an old one.

  We awoke with Jack calling us on the hotel's phone. "Hey, are you two going to sleep all day?"

  I looked at the clock. "My lord, Jack, it's only 7:30." Just because he'd been awake for two hours and was hungry, didn't mean he had to wake us. I suggested that he eat breakfast and we'd join him soon. After breakfast, we dropped Kathy off at the hospital and Jack and I went to the county jail.

  Father Joe Carson was dressed in an orange jump suit and looked haggard and angry. He was in shackles and sat at a steel table similar to those at Booneville. Joe didn't look up but kept scowling at the wall. Jack and I took off our overcoats and draped them over the back of the steel chairs and sat down opposite Joe. We sat in silence for a long minute or so.

  Jack broke the silence, "Well, Joe, it has been nearly twenty years and I can't say I'm happy to see you, but here I am and there you are, all decked out in orange. I can't say it flatters you; the all black with the little white collar was better. Too bad you didn't live up to what it stands for."

  Joe looked at Jack and responded, "Well, I never saw you in your prison duds but I imagine you looked like me. At least I didn't kill anyone, and even brought a bit of love and hope into some young lives."

  I couldn't let that pass, "You really believe that's what you've been doing to these children?" I was nearly shouting. "You've nearly ruined several lives and made three girls pregnant. You, sir, have a very sick idea of love."

  He acted like I hadn't said a word, and went on. "Have you served all of your sentence for murdering our dad or were you pardoned for being a good little boy?" Jack just glared back at him. Joe didn't wait for an answer and turned to me and, sneeringly, asked, "And who in hell are you to be accusing me of anything?"

  "I'm Rebecca Brady. I am a journalist, and I can take some credit for you sitting here in jail in that pretty bright outfit."

  "Rebecca Brady? Rebecca Brady? Where have I heard that name before?" Joe seemed to be scanning some inner checklist in his head. "Oh, yeah, I know. I read a book you wrote—a sort of second-rate, trashy autobiographical novel about you seducing a priest and then dragging him out of the priesthood. Ah, and it's coming back to me a bit. Are you still married to that clerical traitor and did you adopt that little snot you and he rescued?" He raised his chin and looked down his nose at me.

  I really felt like slapping the bastard but it would have pleased him too much. "It is none of your business, but I'll tell you anyway. Yes, we're still married, very happily, too. And yes, we did adopt Julie and she graduates from high school this spring ... with honors, I might add." I resented his saying that I seduced Jerry and he was a traitor but showing anger and resentment and saying more would have pleased him too much.

  "Hey, Jack, this lady is kinda sexy. Are you banging her?"

  Jack turned red and started to get up from his chair. I put my hand on his arm and said, "Don't let him get to you, Jack. He isn't worth it. Unless you have anything else to say to him, I think we should go."

  In a falsetto voice that was supposed to sound like me, Joe said, "Yes, Jackie baby, this dirty old man upset me too. Let's get out of here before he makes us dirty, too."

  "Well, Joe, I don't know if you are interested or not, but our mother died three years ago." When Joe just gave him a blank look, Jack added, "I am truly sad to see that you are still the same selfish, egotistical bastard you were twenty years ago."

  Joe did not respond, nor did he show any emotion at all.

  As we walked back to the car, Jack said, "I wonder if there is any way to humanely treat that guy?"

  I didn't respond and we rode silently to the hospital. We found Kathy sitting near her mother's bed in the intensive care unit. Kathy's eyes were closed and she was crying. Hearing us come in, she looked up and pointed to the bed. All of the tubes had been removed from her mother's body and she was not breathing.

  Jack went around to the other side of Kathy's chair and put his hand on her shoulder. I knelt beside her and took her hand. "I'm so sorry, Kathy." I cried too and noticed tears running down Jack's face. I wondered ifJoe ever cried. Tears would show that he was capable of wrestling with God, so I doubted it.

  Chapter 16

  JERRY

  I looked over my notes as I paced around the prison's conference room. I was thinking that the only time in my life that I wanted more than the success of our prison reform program was when I awaited Rebecca's answer to my proposal of marriage. I was wound up tight then, as I remembered. I began to relax as the smiling team members began arriving and asking where I wanted them to sit. Even the chosen inmates and guards were smiling; that helped even more. I had arranged the tables and chairs in an octagon and directed everyone to their seats.

  I looked around the group and took a deep breath. "First, I want you to know that I just learned that one of our team members, Jack Carroll, has been pardoned by Missouri Governor Steve Adams." I began clapping and everyone joined me. Earlier I had talked with Jack and he told me that he was okay continuing working at the prison. When I asked him why, he answered that in many ways he had been feeling like a free man for several years, especially these past few months while working with our team. He said freedom isn't about places with bars, but about our interior spiritual life.

  After introducing the team and welcoming warden and assistant warden, I said, "Now, welcome and good morning, Ted Garcia," I looked to my right, "here at the end of the table, and Frank Simmons, next to him, and next, Jake Anderson ..." I continued to name each inmate and guard until I had welcomed about twelve. One of the youngest inmates, Sam Watson, waved his hand. I said, "Yes, Sam, you have a question?"

  Sam blurted out, "You're freaking me out, man. You've only met each one of us one time and here you're welcoming each of us by name. I been looking and I don't see any list in your hand or any name tags or one of those teleprompter things. How are you doing this, man?"

  "Well, Sam, I want to impress you like I was impressed when a high school teacher did that on our second day of class. He taught five classes and made sure he knew the names of all his students before the end of the first week. I was so impressed, I asked how he did it and he said, 'I just concentrate when I first meet a person and hear their name. So, Jerry, just concentrate.' That's it. I do it as a way of helping me relax with my elephant."

  I continued welcoming the inmates by name until I was interrupted again, as I knew I would be. Mark Willoughby asked, "Okay, what do you mean when you say 'helping me with my elephant?'"

  "I'll tell you in a few minutes."

  I continued welcoming all the inmates and the guards. I looked at each person present one more time as I walked around the 'circle.' "This morning, today, and the next two days, I hope we all will get to know our own elephan
t and how to ride him in a way that will help us to relax as we guide our elephant so that he does not wander off or get ornery or mean and hurt me or someone else or destroy something. Of course, I am talking about our metaphorical elephant—the very strong and sometimes unruly part of ourselves that we need to control. For the inmates, it is the part of yourselves that got you into prison. Oh, and I have an elephant as do the guards, and team members. Even our wardens, Henry and Dan, have their own elephants." This is the first time everyone present had heard about this metaphor and they smiled when I mentioned Henry and Dan and their elephants.

  "I have a sister who is a horse person. When she was in high school she had four horses and twenty-one riding students. She told me that she had to get to know each of her horses and to let them know that she was boss. At the same time, she had to be kind and gentle with them or they wouldn't do what she wanted them to do—carry her easily on their backs and go where she wanted them to go.

  "She taught this to all of her students. I could use the horse as my animal metaphor but I like elephant better because elephants are so huge and powerful and we must do the same thing my sister did with her horses. We need to befriend our elephant so he will do what is life-giving and not be destructive. We are both the elephant and the rider.

  "Now I'll tell you a little about my elephant. First, I was born into a very poor family in a small town in western Nebraska. I was the second of six children. My dad was an excellent carpenter and cabinet maker ... and he was a horribly mean drunk who often beat us kids and even beat our mother. One day, when I was fourteen, he was beating my mom so terribly, I heard her screams way out in the yard where I was working. I ran into the house and grabbed my dad's shirt collar and pulled as hard as I could. I yanked him back and he fell backwards and hit his head on a cast-iron cook stove. I killed him." I stopped there. I was holding back tears and I wanted my audience to really soak in my story.