The Field (ACHUKAbooks)

by Bill Nagelkerke

  ‘Why not?’ Jacinta asked.

  No one tried answering that.

  After that Jacinta tried to resume eating but she couldn’t, not easily. She kept looking up at her family, wondering what they were thinking but not saying. Obviously Josh didn’t believe a word of it, but what about her parents? Did they just feel sorry for her? Or were they scared that she was going crazy? They couldn’t just ignore her like this, could they, pretending she hadn’t said anything.

  She heard herself carrying on, filling the silence gap. ‘If you don’t believe me, come with me into the Crow’s Nest tomorrow so you can see Our Lady for yourselves.’

  ‘You shouldn’t call her that,’ Mum said. ‘You don’t know . . .’

  ‘I do know,’ Jacinta insisted.

  ‘I’ll be too busy,’ said Dad, far too quickly in Jacinta’s opinion. He just doesn’t want to know, she thought. He looked at her. ‘And I said I don’t want you going back up there, either.’

  ‘Only if I was by myself,’ Jacinta protested. ‘I have to be there tomorrow!’

  ‘There’s no way . . .’

  ‘I’ll go with her,’ Mum interrupted.

  ‘Me too,’ said Josh. ‘This is something I have to see for myself. A TV that turns itself on!’

  ‘You’ve got work tomorrow,’ Dad reminded Mum.

  ‘I’m owed some time,’ Mum said. ‘I also want to see this . . . lady for myself.’

  For a little while Jacinta felt lighter. It would make all the difference in the world to be able to share this burden with her mother. It wasn’t until later that it occurred to her that the time her mother was owed might well be sick leave. She was allowed to take sick leave, not only for herself, but if any of her family were ill. Is that what Mum’s thinking, Jacinta asked herself. Does she think I’m sick?

  The following morning Dad still wasn’t at all keen for either Jacinta or Josh to accompany him to the Field but Mum insisted that she was going to go as well, and so Dad gave in. Once they arrived, he went off immediately to do the jobs he had planned for the day leaving Jacinta, her mother and Josh to climb up to the Crow’s Nest. Jacinta could tell that Josh was badly torn between wanting to stay with Dad and needing to know if the television in the Crow’s Nest really was going to turn itself on. The television won.

  As they trudged up the metal stairway Jacinta worried that the Lady would not appear, not with the others crowding the Crow’s Nest, but it was too late now to do anything about that. Besides, there was no other way of getting to the Crow’s Nest today other than if she was accompanied. Not only that, she needed proof to convince her parents, her Mum at least, of what she had seen.

  They sat uncomfortably in the Crow’s Nest. Although there was plenty of room and enough comfy chairs, all three were expectant while Jacinta was nervously anticipatory as well, so that the atmosphere was rather electric.

  As time passed and nothing happened Josh became more and more impatient, moving continuously between the television and the sloping window, looking down onto the Field for signs of Dad.

  ‘You don’t have to stay here, you know,’ Jacinta snapped at him more than once.

  Each time Josh just grunted and came back to sit with them. ‘It’s like being at the airport, waiting for a plane to arrive, but it keeps on being delayed,’ he said.

  From time to time Mum glanced at Jacinta.

  ‘Why are you doing that?’ Jacinta finally asked her.

  ‘Doing what?’

  ‘Looking at me all the time?’

  Mum shrugged. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise I was.’

  Just as it seemed that nothing was going to happen . . .

  The third apparation

  . . . and we were going to have to leave the Crow’s Nest to return home, I heard the click of the television, followed by the now familiar hum of static and the evolving picture of Our Lady.

  ‘She’s here!’ I exclaimed quickly to the others.

  Then, when Our Lady started speaking to me, I more or less forgot that Mum and Josh were in the room with me.

  ‘Thank you for coming,’ Our Lady said.

  ‘That’s alright,’ I replied. ‘I hope you don’t mind that I brought some of my family with me to meet you.’

  Our Lady smiled. ‘It isn’t time yet,’ she said, which made no sense to me.

  ‘There is something I want you to do for me,’ Our Lady said.

  ‘I will if I can,’ I said. ‘And if I’m allowed to.’

  ‘You will allow others to help you,’ Our Lady said. ‘In six weeks’ time, on July the twenty-third at seven pm, I want you to come to the Field. There we will see each other one last time. Bring everyone you can with you. I have a message I want to share with as many people as possible.’

  The date and time Our Lady gave me seemed familiar, but at the time I was worrying about something quite different.

  ‘I don’t know very many people,’ I said.

  Our Lady smiled again. ‘Many people will know you,’ she said, mysteriously, beginning to fade.

  ‘Wait!’ I cried. ‘Is that all? Don’t I need to know more . . .’

  But Our Lady had gone and the television turned itself off. I sighed deeply, feeling sad and alone. But at least Mum and Josh had been with me. They must have seen and heard Our Lady, too. They would believe me now, and be able to tell Dad that I hadn’t done anything to the television that I wasn’t supposed to do.

  And they’d be able to help me work out how I would manage to do what Our Lady wanted me to do.

  Jacinta turned to them.

  Josh was drawing a circle around his ear. ‘Mental,’ he said. ‘Completely gone.’

  Mum looked a bit stunned. She didn’t seem to know what to do, or what to say.

  ‘You heard, didn’t you?’ Jacinta appealed to them. ‘You saw?’

  Slowly Mum shook her head. ‘You were speaking,’ she said at last. ‘We heard you. But it was a one-sided conversation. You were the only one we could hear.’

  ‘You saw the television come on, didn’t you? And Our Lady? You must have seen her?’

  ‘The TV never came on,’ Josh said. ‘You’re mental,’ he repeated. ‘Making things up. Talking to yourself.’

  ‘That’s enough of that Josh.’ Mum turned at Jacinta. ‘Josh is right about the television. It didn’t come on. There was no lady on the screen. There was only you Jacinta. You appeared to be talking to someone but we didn’t see or hear who it was you were talking to.’

  She looked more distressed than Jacinta had ever seen her. I must be sick, she thought. Then she changed her mind almost at once. I know I’m not, she told herself. In some ways, I’ve never felt better in all my life.

  One day life was beetling nicely along, quite ordinary and very familiar. Then suddenly it changed, completely. Overnight, or so it seemed. Of course it had taken longer than that, but not very much longer. Just three short days, and then a few more afterwards, to seal the change.

  Jacinta had to pass on the instruction Our Lady had given her. That seemed to her now to be the most important thing. This time she didn’t want to keep anything secret. Our Lady’s instruction was too big, too difficult for Jacinta to accomplish on her own. She needed help, big time.

  You will allow others to help you, Our Lady had told her.

  Once she had got over her dismay that neither Mum nor Josh had seen the Lady, Jacinta tried telling them Our Lady’s side of the conversation.

  It soon became clear that, although she was listening, Mum was unable to take in what Jacinta was saying. Josh didn’t even try to listen. He made for the door instead. ‘Wait till I tell Dad,’ he yelled, before pounding down the stairs.

  Jacinta tried again.

  ‘I heard you sweetheart, honestly I did, ‘Mum said. ‘I just don’t know what to make of it all. I want to believe everything you’ve told me, of course I do, but it’s not as easy as that. You understand what I’m saying, don’t you? We simply didn’t hear or see what you did.’


  Jacinta finally nodded. She had to accept what Mum was telling her. In her heart she had already considered this possibility. She experienced a small, surprising sense of relief. Maybe it was better this way. If Mum and Josh had seen and heard the Lady, or even if they just decided to believe her regardless, then what could that mean for her?

  Jacinta had often heard the story, told at school and at church, about the three children, cousins, who had reported seeing Our Lady years and years ago at a place called Fatima, in a country called Portugal. In fact, Jacinta knew she herself had been named after one of those children. They’d had a lot of really hard and difficult days convincing people to believe them. They’d even been locked up in jail for a while because of the story they’d told. And that long-ago Jacinta had died of a flu when she was only nine years old.

  Wouldn’t it be a lot better – a lot easier - not to be believed?

  That night, as so often happened, Jacinta took ages to fall sleep. It was cold outside and someone had set the air conditioning unit in the hallway to high, making her room stuffy and dry. Jacinta got up to the kitchen for a glass of water. She didn’t make it all the way. The light was still on in the dining room and she heard Mum and Dad’s subdued voices. They were up much later than usual. They were talking about her.

  Jacinta stopped outside the pushed-to door and listened.

  ‘We keep going round in circles,’ Dad said. ‘The fact is, we just don’t know.’

  ‘She saw something, somebody,’ Mum replied. ‘Surely she must have.’

  ‘She thought she saw somebody,’ Dad said. ‘Jacinta and her imagination . . .’

  ‘Maybe,’ Mum said, ‘but it seemed like more than that to me. The way she looked at the television screen, the way she talked to whoever she was seeing in it. She was making eye contact. That’s a lot more than just imagination, isn’t it? I mean, with the two of us there, why would she pretend such a thing?’

  ‘You and Josh didn’t see anything though, did you?’

  Jacinta heard Mum say, again, ‘No, we didn’t.’

  ‘The mind can play strange tricks,’ Dad said. ‘And Jacinta’s a dreamer. We know that. Why else are we always saying that she has her head in the clouds. That’s why she likes the Crow’s Nest so much, I reckon. I had to go up there for something once. She didn’t hear me come in, as she’d left the door half open. She was standing by the window looking down onto the Field. She had one hand up, like a conductor, or a magician. “Now you will all do my bidding” I heard her say.’

  Jacinta knew the occasion Dad was referring to. It was one of those times she’d been playing at being a small god. She’d been about to start the game, get her team motivated and on the move.

  She felt hot with embarrassment, thinking that Dad had accidentally seen her.

  ‘Games,’ said Mum. ‘That’s all.’

  ‘And that’s all that happened today,’ said Dad. ‘She was playing a game. The only difference is that she had an audience.’

  ‘You play those sort of games when you’re by yourself, not in front of other people,’ Mum insisted. ‘So, what do we do next?’

  ‘Do? Just leave it I reckon. Wait for it all to blow over. What did you say to Jacinta?’

  ‘I told her we’d have to think about the next step,’ Mum replied. ‘But I don’t think it’s a game she’s playing this time,’ she repeated. ‘And it won’t all just blow over like you say. I’m sure about that. We can’t just do nothing. Not that Jacinta would let us, anyway. She’s convinced she saw something. She thinks - believes - she has an important message to deliver.’

  ‘The date Jacinta said the lady gave her,’ Dad said. ‘Do you realise what it is?’

  ‘July the twenty-third,’ said Mum.

  ‘No, no, I don’t mean the actual date but what’s happening on it,’ Dad elaborated. ‘It’s the opening night for the TekNat Arena. The night of its first test match.’

  There was a few moments’ silence. Then Mum said, puzzled, ‘Why would she have picked that particular date, I wonder?’

  Jacinta had no idea if by ‘she’ her mother meant her, or the Lady.

  Dad had no doubt. ‘It’s obvious, isn’t it?’ he said. ‘Jacinta knows when the match is. No ‘lady’ gave her the date. It just proves that all of this is coming out of her own head, her imagination. I say, let it lie. If her story doesn’t die a natural death then we’ll worry about it again. What is it you’re always saying? Don’t bother trouble until trouble bothers you?’

  Jacinta couldn’t hear her mother’s reply.

  After overhearing her parents’ conversation Jacinta made a half-hearted resolution. She wouldn’t do what Our Lady had asked. She would try to forget all about it. Because even if she could, somehow, manage to get people to the Field to hear Our Lady’s message, the risk was too great. She was three years older than that other Jacinta, and she didn’t want to work so hard at being believed. She didn’t want to be locked up. She didn’t want to die of a flu, either.

  Jacinta was hopeless at keeping resolutions. Half-hearted ones stood no chance.

  And besides, Josh blabbed.

  In all fairness, no one had specifically told him to keep quiet about it. The rest of the family just assumed there was an unspoken agreement that none of them would talk, at least not until they had sorted out amongst themselves what to do. Which, if Dad had his way, would in all likelihood be never. So, as it turned out, trouble did bother them before they consciously troubled it.

  Josh mentioned to some of his friends that his sister Jacinta had been transformed into a complete and utter loophole. He hadn’t planned to. When encouraged to elaborate, he felt he had no alternative. One thing led to another.

  Naturally his friends told other friends. One of Josh’s best mates told his father, who happened to be a newspaper journalist. The father wasn’t Catholic himself but he had married a Catholic and was familiar with the apparition stories, such as the one about Fatima. Therefore he was not as sceptical as some other journalists might have been. Jacinta’s tale intrigued him. He determined to pay a visit to Josh’s family as soon as he had a free moment, to discover if there really was a news story in it.

  Another of Josh’s mates told his mother, who was the Catholic Bishop’s secretary. She mentioned it to Bishop Harris.

  ‘How seriously should I take it?’ the Bishop asked.

  ‘That’s not for me to say, of course,’ his secretary replied. ‘But my son seemed to think that Joshua Grogan wasn’t making it up. I mean, he seemed to believe his sister was being serious.’

  ‘But he’s not claiming to also have had the visions of Mary, is he?’

  ‘No, only his sister’s claiming that. Jacinta’s her name.’

  ‘Jacinta. Hmm. A coincidental name,’ the Bishop noted.

  His secretary nodded in agreement.

  ‘I’ve met the family at church,’ she said. ‘They’re nice people.’

  Bishop Harris sighed. ‘I suppose I’d better go round and see them,’ he said.

  The Bishop had a spare moment that Saturday morning. He arrived, accompanied by the Grogan’s local parish priest. Father Dunally had been asked to arrange the visit on the Bishop’s behalf.

  Father Dunally was an older man, friendly, talkative relaxed with people, and well liked by his parishioners. He’d popped round to the Grogan’s on a few previous occasions. On this occasion, however, he looked far from his usual comfortable self. It was as if his white clerical collar fitted him far too tightly. He kept running his finger inside it, trying to loosen it. He was also unusually quiet.

  The Bishop was taller than Father Dunally, thinner and quite a few years younger. Neither Jacinta nor Josh recognised him immediately, although they had seen him several times before when he’d visited their parish. At those official times he had seemed even taller than he appeared now, but then of course he’d been elevated by his peaked mitre and his shepherd’s crook, which was even taller than he was.

  Mum and Dad had
told Jacinta and Josh the Bishop was visiting. They all knew exactly why. But no one knew how he had found out. Josh had more than a sneaking suspicion, but since he wasn’t one hundred percent sure if it was because of his loose lips, he decided to keep quiet for the time being.

  The Bishop said ‘yes’ to a cup of tea but then, after making a little bit of small talk, he came to the point.

  ‘I want to hear more about this mysterious lady Jacinta says she encountered,’ he said, speaking to her parents but looking all the time at Jacinta. She stared back at him.

  ‘First of all, can you tell us how you found out about all this?’ Dad asked. ‘We’ve been wondering ever since Father Dunally rang to say you knew, and that you wanted to have this chat with us.’

  ‘That’s easily explained,’ said Bishop Harris.

  Josh tried his hardest to shrink into inconspicuousness.

  ‘My secretary is the mother of one of your son’s friends,’ the Bishop explained. ‘Apparently Joshua told him and he told his mother. I assumed that you must have known.’

  ‘We didn’t,’ said Dad shortly. He glared daggers at Josh.

  ‘It just came out,’ Josh mumbled. ‘I didn’t mean for it to happen.’

  Mum sighed. ‘Josh,’ she said.

  'I didn’t know it was supposed to be secret,’ Josh defended himself. ‘No one said.’

  ‘Then we should have made it clear,’ Mum said.

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ Jacinta said. She meant it, too. This was the best thing that could have happened. If anyone could help her, it had to be the Bishop.

  ‘It’s appropriate that I know,’ said the Bishop. ‘These cases must be dealt with as they happen. Or, should I say, as soon as they present themselves,’ he amended, as he saw the hopeful look in Jacinta’s face when he used the word ‘happen.’ She had thought he believed her without question. But not so. As it turned out, the Bishop had a lot of questions to ask her and the more he asked the more it seemed that he was not going to be of any help at all.