by June Ahern
He pushed past his wife into the house and yelled, “Doomed to hell, every last one of you!”
Stunned into silence, Cathy moved slowly toward June. Jimmy roared from inside the house, “CATHY!” In mid-stride toward June, she stopped and turned to the house leaving her daughters in the backyard of their new home.
The sisters stood frozen in place around the bin, eyes glued to the blaze feeding upon itself. The fire burst into a sudden spark, crackling loudly, awaking everyone from the nightmare. Annie rushed over to June to put a protective arm around her.
Maggie found a stick in the yard. She flipped a couple of cards out of the bin. The smoldering cards cooled on the cement.
“Boy, oh boy, June. Daddy’s right, wait ‘til Sister St. Pius bangs your head with a ruler. You’ll cry like a baby,” said Mary, who now had the nun as her third grade teacher.
“Shut up,” Annie ordered, holding June tighter. “She isn’t as bad as you.”
“They won’t like me. Daddy said so,” the youngest sister said between sobs.
Brushing off the salvaged, singed cards, Maggie advised June, “You’ll have to learn to be quiet about certain things. Just smile at them like this.” She demonstrated a coy smile. “That’s all you have to do.”
June pressed her head against Annie’s chest, muttering, “I hate him.”
“He’s the Big, Bad Wolf,” said Maggie, her eyes flickering. She snarled at her sisters.
Mary glowered at the bin. “We could kill him, then Mommy’ll let us go to public school.”
“Can we, Annie? Kill him?” said June, who trusted her eldest sister to have all the answers.
“We could. With my baseball bat,” said Mary staring into the fire.
“Poison,” said Maggie.
“Where’d we get poison?” asked Annie, shaking her head at her sisters’ sinful suggestions.
“We have poison. DDT. I’ve put it on flowers,” Mary said, fiddling with her back pocket.
“Well then, we could put it in his tea,” Annie contributed to the conspiracy.
The girls huddled in a circle while the last of the fire hissed behind them. Maggie held the cards up toward the sun, looking at each side carefully. “I can draw cards like this for you, June. Even better,” she said with a sly smile.
June perked up at the solution to her loss. “You will?” she said, pushing herself away from Annie’s tight hug. It was the first glimmer of hope the sad girl had after seeing her precious tarot cards go up in smoke. She wiped the last of her tears from her face.
Maggie looked at the five-year-old tenderly holding a burnt card. “Happy Birthday, June.”
“You’ll need this, too,” Mary said pulling the crimson silk scarf out from her back pocket.
“Oh, thank you.” A smile returned to June’s red-spotted face, her puffy eyes now crinkling from happy relief. Annie put out her arms to draw in close all of her sisters.
* * * * *
Chapter 20
WICKED BEHAVIOR AT HOLY SAVIOR
February 1959
SISTER ST. PIUS stood beneath a large, plain wooden cross. The elderly nun was a bit crotchety because her students took so long to settle down after the music teacher had left. As though to lengthen her small stature, the short nun had a rigid backbone and a sharp chin that jutted out, lifting her head up and back. From this vantage point, she scrutinized the preciseness of the rows of boys and girls seated at their desks. Finally, satisfied that the rows were aligned properly, she opened the religion book.
Adjusting her round, wire-framed glasses, she began, “Praise be to the Lord. You are to love, honor and serve Him. It is your Catholic duty to always be good boys and girls. That is the only way you can enter into Heaven. Even when you are alone, God knows if you are thinking of being bad. God sees everything that you do. Now, let’s open the religion books to page thirty-five.” She suddenly stopped and snapped, “June MacDonald, what are you talking about?”
June immediately stopped whispering to the boy next to her and jerked up with a gasp. She looked up at the nun, guiltily. She tried to shrink deeply into her seat. Sister St. Pius, arms akimbo, moved from behind the podium to stand and stare ominously down the aisle at the frightened girl. June opened her mouth and a few incoherent words spilled out.
The nun’s tight lips, barely opened, barked in a deep voice, “Stand up when you talk to me.”
Bravely, June stood alongside her desk, hands folded in front of her as she was taught to do. She hesitated, embarrassed, and answered quietly, “Yes, Sister St. Pius. I said Mary is God’s Mother and God has to do what His mother says because…”
“No one is more powerful than God!” The nun’s voice was almost hysterical.
Afraid but angered at the nun’s meanness, June said, “But, if Our Lady is His mother, didn’t She teach Him everything He knows? Isn’t She the boss?”
“Are you questioning the teaching of the Church?” The nun started to tap her hand with the pointer. A tilted smile started to creep across her lips. The children were paralyzed, awaiting the nun’s next move.
A loud bell suddenly jangled, announcing lunch. The abrupt noise caused everyone to jump in their seats. Hurriedly, the children put away their books, eager to leave the tense situation.
“Line up, everyone!” the nun said, directing the students with her pointer. Relieved, June opened up the top of her desk and pushed in her book so she could join the other students in line. “Miss MacDonald, you stay. The rest of you may go. Quietly!”
The students cringed as they filed past Sister St. Pius. When the classroom was empty, the nun crooked her finger at the waiting girl. “Stand here,” she ordered.
Trapped, June kept her eyes on Sister. She moved ever so slowly toward the nun while her fingers nervously bunched up her uniform skirt. She wished she could tell the nun how she really felt about her. And what she knew about her. The aura colors surrounding the old woman’s head were darkish gray swirls with what looked like a blood red cap pressing downward over her forehead. June knew Sister St. Pius’s crushing headaches would someday render the woman speechless. She held her tongue though knowing the nun wouldn’t believe her. Recently, the old nun had ridiculed the girl’s artwork to the class, saying that June should be sent back to kindergarten to learn how to color inside the lines. She would never understand how June saw color energy sprouting outside the physical boundaries of people.
“You are nothing but trouble, Miss MacDonald. I said, come here. Here!” Sister slapped the front of her long black skirt with the pointer.
June stood close in front of the nun, breathing shallow breaths, waiting to wince when the pointer hit.
“Who do you think you are to question God?” Sister demanded.
Terrified, the girl took a gulp and said, “I didn’t question…”
“Shut up! I’ve had it with your constant troublemaking and sassy answers and blasphemous ideas. You know what happens to people like you who go against the teachings of the Church? Do you?” June saw the pointer shaking in Sister’s gnarled hand. “What kind of Catholic girl are you?”
“Am I a bad Catholic, Sister?” June asked nervously.
The small nun looked June up and down. She grabbed the front of the girl’s white blouse, shaking her. “Yes, you are! With your heathen ways and heretic talk, you sound like a wicked witch.”
From her unchecked anger, the old nun was sweating and trembling ferociously. Saliva spat out, hitting June’s face as she yelled at her. June didn’t dare back away or wipe it off, which would only infuriate Sister St. Pius even more.
With a mocking sweetness, Sister continued, “You know what happens to witches? They are burned. Oh yes, burned.” Sister St. Pius sneered, her wild dark eyes searing into the young girl’s frightened face.
“You…” she thumped June’s chest hard, “will never get to heaven. No, you’ll burn and go…”
“Lunch, Sister?” said a pretty young nun who popped her head in the door. H
er voice purred with a soft South African accent.
The old nun swirled around with June’s blouse still in her fist. “Oh, Sister Noel! Good afternoon,” she said releasing the girl. “Is the Mother Superior at lunch, or in her office?”
“Sister Wilma is at lunch. Why not come and join us?” Sister Noel offered.
Sister St. Pius screwed up her face at the young nun calling the Mother Superior, “Sister Wilma.” She saw it as disrespectful to the Mother Superior’s position.
“I will. June, you go to Mother Superior’s office right after school today,” said Sister St. Pius.
She stepped out of the classroom without another word.
The room was dead silent. June didn’t want to cry, but her lips trembled as she turned her face away in shame from Sister Noel. The young nun went to the sad girl. Taking hold of her hand she said, gently, “Come on, June. Better get out to lunch.”
The hard-held tears gushed forth. “She said I’m a witch and I’m going to be burned,” she sobbed. The little girl wiped a sleeve over her cheeks to dry away the tears.
“No, dear. You won’t be burned. It is true that a long time ago they burned a lot of people, a lot of innocent people that they said were witches.”
“Are they burning witches again?” June asked.
Sister Noel put an arm around the girl’s shoulder, cloaking her in the wings of her black robe. “Not that I heard of recently,” she chuckled.
Silently, they started down the hallway toward the doors. Feeling the girl tremble beneath her arm, she said quickly, “June, I know that you do have a mind of your own about certain things. I’ve heard you speak out quite a bit about them. What did you say to upset your teacher?”
“That Our Lady is as powerful as God. My Mom always prays to Her to fix things.”
The nun exhaled lightly. “Oh, I see. Sister St. Pius is a little old to share those ideas with, so try to get along in her class. We can talk about your ideas next year in my class.”
“Why can’t I say what I think is right?” June asked.
“Because we are teaching you what Catholics believe. You may not have enough information to give accurate opinions on your religion.”
June stopped walking and looked up to the tall, slender, green-eyed nun. “But Sister Noel, I’m a good Catholic ‘cuz I believe in God and Our Lady. I pray to my angel and I say the Rosary.”
Sister Noel gave the eight-year-old a big empathetic smile, making June’s heart leap as she gazed at the beautiful nun. Impulsively, the little girl hugged her. Sister Noel returned the hug, thinking how June’s fiery red hair matched her rebellious nature.
“I know you’re a good girl. Now go to lunch,” Sister said.
June pushed the hall door open into the large schoolyard. The radiance of the afternoon sun intermingled with the copper highlights in her hair. But even the warmth of the sun could not lift the girl’s unhappiness.
Children, sitting on aging wooden benches, quickly ate their lunches as a nun monitored the yard. She walked in a wide circle looking for any infractions.
Mary stood against the wall adjacent to the door tightly holding a brown paper bag. Her tapping foot gave evidence of her impatience. Spying her little sister emerging into the yard, she exhaled, “Gee whiz. Finally! What took you so long?”
June gave a huge sigh and rolled her eyes. “Boy, you weren’t kidding about that old crabby St. Pius.”
“Told you. She hit you on the head?” Mary giggled.
“Yeah. Worse, too,” her gloomy sister answered.
“You’re in trouble, huh?” Mary guffawed.
June’s lips pouted.
Mary nudged her gently. “Hey, it’s alright.”
They moved swiftly but quietly toward the back of the schoolyard so as not to be noticed by the monitoring nun. June slowed her pace a bit. She wanted to tell her sister what had happened without anyone hearing.
“She said I’m a witch. That I’d burn in hell ‘cuz I say bad things about Catholics.”
“Must have been talking to Daddy. Here, want this part?” Mary said tugging off a generous piece of her sandwich.
The jelly oozed out the sides and June jumped a little so it wouldn’t hit her white Oxford shoes. That’s all she needed was to get in trouble for having dirty shoes. Since her stomach was still in knots, she took only a small bite to fend off her hunger.
They walked past the students dutifully remaining seated, ready to burst into play, but waiting for the nun to ring the little brass bells announcing their freedom. When the bells rang, the schoolyard filled with rambunctious children.
A shadow walked up from June’s right side. She was afraid to look at who it might be, just in case Sister St. Pius had followed her. The shadow became a presence behind her. Her hands trembled and her throat tightened, gluing the soggy bread to the roof of her mouth and blocking her breathing.
Then she heard Maggie say, “Okay kid, where’s your cards?”
June coughed to dislodge the bread and catch a breath. Maggie’s brilliant green eyes sparkled against her strawberry blonde hair held high up in a tightly pulled ponytail behind her, making her eyes even more cat-like. As she walked, she wiggled her head from side to side to swing the ponytail. Maggie and three of her friends surrounded June on all sides, shielding her from the prying eyes of the monitors.
“Keep smiling and the old bats won’t bother us,” Maggie said, as she put one arm around each of her sister’s shoulders. Maggie was orchestrating their secret mission.
Mary pulled out a deck of tarot cards from her lunch bag in a way that only the top card showed.
“Let’s start soon. Sit over there,” Maggie said impishly, motioning with her eyes to a bench where Mary’s fellow six-graders sat eating lunch. The older girls, knowing what was to happen, moved apart to give June ample space to sit down between them.
June shoved the rest of Mary’s sandwich into her mouth and licked her sticky fingers. She felt more focused on the task at hand. With her cards in hand she sat patiently, enjoying the freshness of the outdoors while she waited for the cue from her sisters.
Maggie crossed her ankles and folded her hands across a small black purse on her lap. Settled on the bench, she nodded to Mary who then motioned for some of the girls to create a protective wall around June.
June felt safe inside the circle of girls. She was calm and happy, ready to attend to her purpose of sharing her insights. She patiently waited for the first person.
A honey-blonde beauty in the eighth grade stepped up to Maggie and carefully counted out some coins from her small leather coin purse. Maggie held out her open hand for the girl to drop them in. She counted a nickel and three pennies.
“Next time, Patti, make it a whole ten cents. Okay?” She called to Mary, “Patti’s first.”
The circle opened to let Patti sit next to June.
“What’s your question?” June asked. Once she heard the question, she would begin the reading.
Before Patti revealed her private life, she surveyed the group to see who was listening. The circle of girls surrounding her was busy yakking away to each other.
“It’s about a boy,” Patti answered.
The girls stopped talking and took a step closer to June and Patti.
“Golly you guys! Stop listening!” Patti complained. Afraid they wouldn’t do as she asked, she cupped her mouth to June’s ear. “Does Billy O’Hara love me?”
June closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them she laid out some colorful cards on the bench. “Yes. But his brother Mickey loves you more,” she said.
Patti’s hands flew up to her mouth, which had completely dropped open. “Oh my God! He’s in high school. Gee, June! What should I do? Call him?”
June picked up the cards on the bench, shuffled the deck again and held them out. “Pick three cards and lay them down,” she instructed.
While the reading continued, more girls stood in front of Maggie, jiggling their coins and waiting
as she dealt with another customer. One short Italian girl with tightly curled black hair, reluctantly handed over a nickel.
“Come on, Loretta, don’t be so cheap. It’s ten cents,” Maggie said.
“Gads, I can’t believe you. That’s my milk money. Come on. I’m your best friend.”
With her solid Mediterranean build, Loretta stood squarely in front of Maggie, blocking anyone else from doing business.
Maggie shrugged, “I gotta split the money with my sisters. Come on. Don’t you want to know if Frankie Cunningham is cheating on you with Patti?”
“Or you,” Loretta challenged Maggie. Her long dark face was close to Maggie’s. The other waiting backed away, concerned that this MacDonald would take offense. Maggie gave her friend a sweet smile and held up her palm, waiting for payment for the reading.
A commotion of shouts from several female voices interrupted the stare-down. Maggie leaned past Loretta to see a group of six boys headed by Eddie Gallagher, a boisterous, stocky boy of thirteen years with mischievous blue eyes. He bounced a basketball loudly on the asphalt as he jumped up and down, trying to peek over Mary. Like most of the kids at school, he knew what was going on but it was a wickedly fun time he was after. He loved to provoke the girls into screams.
“Hey June! Tell my fortune!” he yelled.
The other boys started to laugh and chanted, “Tell my fortune,” over and over like a mantra.
Mary attempted to push Eddie back, but he didn’t budge. He leaned against her body, teetering on his toes, trying to get close enough for June to hear him.
“Does he love me? Am I going to get rich?” he said mimicking a girl’s voice.
The girls began to hit him. Soon the boys multiplied, coming from all over the yard. The group became a melee of pushing and yelling children. Mary began to feel panicky. She was afraid the yard monitors would soon be looking to see which MacDonald was causing the trouble.
She spat out her words to Eddie, “Get out of here, you creep!”
