The Father's Son

by Jim Sano

  He stopped for her to catch up.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Jill, I’m sorry. I’m really sorry but—I don’t think I can do this tonight. I really need to go. I’m sorry.”

  He left her stranded on the sidewalk and strode off towards his apartment alone.

  When he finally got home, he changed into his running gear and ran for seven miles to push the flood of thoughts and emotion out of his body. After a long, hot shower, he sat in his leather chair and stared at the painting on the wall, a solitary sailboat on the choppy ocean off of Dennis Port Harbor with only the tip of Chatham and a few clouds off in the distance.

  He sent a short text to Jillian apologizing for leaving her the way he did, saying that he needed some time. Knowing he had a full slate of meetings in the morning, he tried to get some sleep but only drifted into dreams. He was looking up at his father as he taught him how to hold and throw a baseball, then quickly shifted to closing a heavy door on his father as he tried to come into his room from a darkened hallway. A casket was being lowered into a black pit at a cemetery he didn’t recognize, and then he saw himself sitting on the handlebars of his older brother’s bike as Jimmy pedaled and laughed, before seeing him lying in a pool of blood on a cold floor. His dream shifted to boating with Jillian and then to dribbling past Tom with the basketball for a score, and then he was a boy again sitting alone in the pitch black of his room, which woke him suddenly as he found himself sitting up in bed and sweating in his own pitch-black room. Trooper slept soundly, and David was alone with the stillness of nothing–no sound, no light, no movement of air, no feeling at all.

  Chapter 13

  David fell asleep an hour before the alarm sounded, so he was surprised when the music on his clock radio began to play “My Sacrifice” by Creed. As he pushed off the blankets and swung his feet to the floor, he buried the notion that he had been sacrificing his authentic self and his relationships just to avoid the discomfort of doing otherwise. Without being aware of it, he mentally moved into a safer compartment that he had spent a lifetime building and started his routine. He ran, showered, went to the Eastside for breakfast, and then on to work.

  He buried himself back into work, exercise and routine. He asked Izzie to schedule some customer and sales team visits he had been putting off. He would be out of town much of the remaining weeks of the quarter to close business and stay busy. Jillian had tried to text and call him, but she had no replies as David immersed himself in his meetings and readied for flights over the rest of the week to Atlanta, Washington, and Toronto. At work, he felt his best when he was focused and driven by his heavy work schedule and dealing with sales teams and customers.

  Finally, David called Jillian to let her know that he was going to be straight out for a while but left her with no insight or sense of what was going on with him or even if it had to do with her. He could hear the concern in her voice but felt relieved that she wanted to give him whatever time he needed.

  There was comfort and safety in his busy routine. Out on the road from Friday morning through Tuesday night, he was feeling more in control of his world as he headed back to Boston. On Wednesday morning, he was at work before Izzie, which didn’t please her. “Did you sleep on the couch here last night, Mr. Kelly?”

  David looked up from the work on his desk. “Oh, hi, Izzie. No, I didn’t sleep here last night. There’s just a lot to do today.”

  She brought in a cup of coffee. “I know, Mr. Kelly. I have your calendar booked up until four o’clock.”

  David tilted his head, puzzled. “Izzie, you don’t need to block off that time slot on Wednesdays any longer.” She pursed her lips with concern but opened up his Wednesday afternoon calendar, which was quickly booked by Sean Quigley, who stopped by David’s office at four-thirty sharp to talk about what they were doing for damage control on Jack’s old accounts. While Sean was talking, David was standing at his large wall-length windows facing Fenway Park. As his eyes moved down the street several blocks, he could see the green of the Back Bay Fens and the river running through it. While he wanted to resist the temptation, his sights locked in the basketball courts where a full court game was starting up on one court and the other was empty.

  Sean talked about the situation and opportunities with each account as David continued looking out the window and responding when necessary. He noticed someone walk onto the open court and start to shoot. With the distance, it was hard to make out exactly who anyone was, but from the moves he was making, he could tell it was Tom. He watched him shooting alone and then turn down offers from players to play games on the other court. He wasn’t feeling much of anything at all as he watched from his spot high above the world, not anger nor a pull to go back. He just felt numb and preoccupied as he turned his full attention to Sean and the work at hand.

  After work, David put on his running gear and headed out through the Fens and streets that he hadn’t been down before. Near the end of his run, he found himself passing Dempsey’s Pub, slowly enough to see a crowd of men conversing at the booth he had sat at with Tom more than a week before, but too fast to notice if Tom was sitting with them. He didn’t turn back and ended up walking the last mile back home to sit with a beer and his faithful friend, Trooper.

  Chapter 14

  Tom woke at his usual time that morning, got showered and dressed. His day usually started with an hour of quiet prayer in a church pew or sitting in the back garden, which provided a peaceful setting. He strolled the brick walkways in the garden and thought about David. Several days ago, Jillian had surprisingly shown up at Tom’s rectory door and relayed the events of the evening when David abruptly walked off and stopped seeing her. Tom could tell how distraught she was personally, but how much more concerned she was about David. He promised her that he would try to find out what happened and told her he thought David was strong and would be okay.

  He knew there was something deep in David, but he had no idea what could’ve caused such a reaction. He prayed and asked for help and guidance on how best to be there for him if that was his role. He watched the bees float from one bloom to the next and listened for direction. Then, as a gentle breeze rolled through the roses and trees, he got a strong sense that it was a good idea to try to see David. What he didn’t know was how and when to catch him.

  At a few minutes after seven, he went into the church sacristy for 7:30 morning Mass. Normally the altar boy assisting at the Mass would already be there to light the candles, set out the Mass book on the altar, and help him get ready for Mass, but Tom knew who was serving today and wasn’t surprised. He prepared the chalice and dressed in the white amice, alb, and then the more colorful stole and chasuble outer garments, reciting the appropriate short prayer as he donned each one. Tom approached his role in the Mass with reverence and humility, and always felt a sense of joy at this celebration because he saw the Mass was not a re-enactment of the Last Supper or Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross but making those acts of love present in this moment to this community.

  After Mass, Tom stood outside the front of the church and wished each parishioner a good day as they headed off to their jobs, school, and life. The altar boy stood next to Tom until the last parishioner left. “Father, I’m sorry for being late to help out before Mass again today.”

  “Tony, where would the mystery and fun be in life without you?”

  Tony grinned as they walked back inside.

  In addition to his pastoral duties, Tom had been taking care of the grounds and buildings with some volunteer help. At the end of July, a man started coming to Mass each morning at a church that needed serious attention. Soon afterward, doorknobs, broken windows, and the heating system were mysteriously fixed, the gardens were tended to, and things seemed cleaner and more organized. It was some time before Tom figured out who was responsible. Late one evening, he noticed lights on at the school and thinking it was the principal, Sister Helen, he walked over to convince her to call it a night. When Tom got closer to th
e side door window, he could see a short man dressed in work clothes and a baseball hat diligently mopping the floors. As Tom turned the knob on the door, he realized it was locked. The man looked up and then kept on mopping until it was evident that Tom wasn’t going to leave. He went to the door. “Good evening, Father. How was your day today?”

  Tom replied with amusement, “My day was fine, but what are you doing here mopping the floors?”

  “They looked like they needed some attention.”

  “Like the doors and windows and boiler and gardens needed attention?”

  The man nodded. “They sure did.” He wasn’t giving an inch to Tom, which amused him even more.

  “How about if I tell you my name—”

  “You’re Father Fitzpatrick.”

  Tom smiled. “And your name?”

  The man hesitated. “Angelo Salvato. I hope it’s okay to help out.”

  Tom replied, “We certainly appreciate it. If you need a job, we, unfortunately, cannot afford to hire anyone to manage the property.”

  Angelo’s eyes remained under the shadow of the brim of his hat. “I could use a job, but I don’t need money, just a place to sleep at night.”

  “Well, I have a room in the rectory for visiting priests and family that’s empty right now.”

  Angelo glanced over at the large green door to the utility room under the rectory. “If you’re okay with it, I’d prefer to use this room.”

  Tom turned to the old door with narrow windows at the top leading to a supply room that was no larger than a nine by twelve-foot cellar-type room. “No, Angelo. I can’t have you stay there!”

  Angelo insisted as he had already been sleeping on a cot in the supply room for the past two months while taking care of things for the church. Tom learned that Angelo was also a good cook, and he would often cook up dinner and share it with Tom in the rectory kitchen before a very competitive game of chess.

  Tom thought about David most of the day and decided to try to catch him after work. Dressed in his running gear, he walked over to the Prudential Center to wait for him in the lobby. He waited for some time and just after seven, Tom noticed David as one of the elevators opened, but David didn’t recognize him under the cap and running clothes. As David headed out the door and started walking, Tom followed well behind until they turned onto Beacon Street.

  *****

  Just as David reached his home and climbed the steps to open the door, he heard a familiar voice behind him. “I knew you were a stand-up kind of guy, but I didn’t think you would stand me up.”

  David hesitated, then slowly turned around to see Tom sitting on his steps with his back to him. David’s instinct was to turn back around and go into his apartment, but instead, he quietly stepped down, put down his briefcase, and sat next to Tom.

  Neither David nor Tom spoke for a few minutes as they watched the world passing them by on a pleasant mid-September evening. Staring ahead, David asked, “Why were you dishonest with me about who you were?”

  Tom took a sharp breath in. “David, I’m really sorry for how you are feeling. I wouldn’t want you to feel as if you couldn’t trust me to be completely honest with you.”

  David quickly jumped in. “Then why did you do it? Why weren’t you upfront with me?”

  Tom said, “You never asked me what I did. It was good to develop a friendship based on who we were as people instead of acting differently because of our occupations—especially mine. I really enjoyed your company and felt like you could freely be yourself if I were just another guy.”

  David’s forearms were across his knees and his hands holding up his head. “But you aren’t just like anyone else.” David stood up. “I need some time to think about things, Tom, or whatever your name is.”

  “Believe it or not, it is Tom, but you can call me whatever you like.”

  David turned the key to open his door and then turned toward Tom. “I don’t know what to believe, so maybe I will just call you—”

  Tom interrupted, perhaps thinking it could be any number of unpleasant names that could’ve come out of David’s mouth, by suddenly tossing David the briefcase he had left sitting on the stoop. As David caught the briefcase, Tom gave him a hint of a smile in the eyes that showed nothing but genuine fondness.

  Safely back in his apartment, David knew it was time he called Jillian and that he should be calling Kathleen to see if he could take James over the weekend, but he made neither call. He, instead, prepped for the morning’s customer meetings. There was no Red Sox game on, so he played some old Beatles and Who albums for background music while he worked at the kitchen table with a small glass of bourbon. As he pushed aside the morning’s Globe, he noticed a headline on a lawsuit against members of the Catholic Church for sexual abuse cover-ups. The Globe had broken an explosive story in January about former priest John Geoghan and then later Rev. Paul Shanley. The allegations were that Church officials were aware of the abuse and knowingly moved the problem priests around instead of protecting the children. Boston Cardinal Bernard Law had apologized and offered his resignation but remained in office, and reports were pointing to his knowledge of complaints and problem priests.

  These stories rocked Boston and the Catholic Church nationwide. It had shocked parishioners, as it did the community at large, who expected a higher standard of responsibility and trust from religious institutions and especially the dominant Church in the Boston area. Trust in the Church and church attendance itself fell off sharply during the year as more stories and allegations surfaced. People started to suspect every priest as a potential pedophile and believed no child should be in the company of a priest. The vast majority of cases seemed to be clustered around the late fifties to the early eighties, with the majority of victims being boys in their early- to mid-teens. Cases ranged from actual rape to inappropriate touching, and some priests were accused by over a hundred victims over those years.

  There was no love lost with David when it came to the Catholic Church. While he had been baptized a Catholic, after his father’s death, his mother never let him set foot in a Catholic Church again. David’s mother had her own personal anger against the Church that she was more than vocal about with her three remaining children. David was too young to pay much attention to the details, but she would start ranting about how corrupt and evil the Church was. When this latest scandal had broken open, she would read every article out loud to David that confirmed her ardent opinion that the Church was a corrupt institution. While he had learned to tune her out many years ago, he certainly had no personal reason to defend the religion of a father who had broken his trust as a young boy. The current headline only provided a subconscious confirmation about his decision to dive deep into his work instead of a relationship with a priest.

  He stayed busy with work and played golf with some of his team over the weekend. On Tuesday night, Trooper greeted him at the door looking like he could use an evening stroll, so David changed into more comfortable clothes for a walk and grabbed leftovers from the refrigerator. As he closed the refrigerator door and turned towards the kitchen table, he stopped for a second and turned back to look at the freezer door, which was covered with pictures of Amy and James, a few group golf pictures of the winning teams from the office, and a photo of him and Jillian that she had put there herself. He squinted as he noticed something else on the door that hadn’t been there before. It looked like an old, faded fragment of paper with odd writing on both sides. Outside of Jillian or the dog walker, Lucy, David couldn’t think of anyone who’d have access to his apartment and he definitely couldn’t figure out what the writing meant or why it had been put there.

  ΟΙ ΙΟΥΔΑΙ ΗΜΕΥΤΟ ΓΕΓΕΝΝΗΜΑΙ

  OYΔΕΝΑ ΙΝΑ Ο Λ ΣΜΟΝ ΙΝΑ ΜΑΡΤY-

  ΠΕΝ ΣHΜΑΙΝΩ EΚ ΤΗΣ ΑΛΗΘΕI

  ΘΝHΣΚΕΙΝ ΙΣ ΛΕΓΕΙ ΑΥΤΩ

  ΡΙΟΝ Ο Π AΙ ΤΟΥΤO

  ΚΑΙ ΕΙΠΤΟΥΣ Ι

  AΙΩ EΜΙr />
  Underneath the strange message was a line, written in English, “The Perfect Answer to the Prefect Question.”

  Chapter 15

  David slept off and on that night, dismissing the mystery riddle as a joke. After his quick morning walk around the block with Trooper, he inadvertently left the front door unlocked, and while he was in the shower, Trooper barked loudly. He stepped out of the bathroom half-dressed and opened the door to the staircase to see a man was exiting the building, scurrying down the street.

  David patted Trooper for doing a good job as he calmed down. Leaving for work, he spotted a leaflet the ‘intruder’ must have left on the top step, the week's line-up at the Comedy Improv. He smiled to himself and headed to the office for a busy day.

  That afternoon, David stood at the window behind his desk while he took a call on his speakerphone from the Chicago team. As the team talked back and forth about how to close the larger deals before quarter-end, he closed his eyes and felt the warmth of the sun coming in through the window on his face. When he opened his eyes, he found his gaze shift towards the Back Bay Fens basketball courts. He felt insulated but dazed over the past few weeks and flashed back to the sincere look in Tom’s eyes when he had last seen him. He missed Tom’s company, and he missed how he was starting to feel. David put the Chicago team on hold, poked his head out the door, and waited for Izzie to look up at him. Without raising her head, she said, “And what can I do for you, Mr. Kelly?”

  “Please reschedule my meetings after four today. I might have to leave the office a little early today.”

  Izzie nodded approvingly as he slipped back into his office and closed the door. He didn’t know why he had changed his plans. He still felt like Tom hadn’t been upfront with him. Nevertheless, just before four o’clock, he went home to change and headed over to the basketball court with his ball and bag.