Blue

by Danielle Steel

  Andrew O’Connor called Ginny the day after she got her assignment from SOS/HR. He had thought of something and wanted to talk to her about it, when Blue wasn’t around, so he called during school hours, and she was home getting organized for the trip.

  “Has Blue ever been to a therapist?” he asked her.

  “I don’t think so. He would have told me.”

  “I think it would be a good idea to have him evaluated by someone. It will strengthen our case if there is some remaining psychological impact from the abuse. And who knows? He may remember something about it he hasn’t told us, or even recall himself. It’s just a thought. He seems like a surprisingly well-balanced kid given what he’s been through, but I’m sure you’re an important part of that,” he said, impressed that she had taken all this on. It seemed like a saintly thing to do, to him. And Blue and she obviously cared for each other. She was kind and respectful to him, and very loving.

  “I’m only a recent addition,” she said modestly, “and he did fine without me before. He has a place to stay now, but his mental stability is his own.”

  “He’s a very lucky young man,” Andrew said, and meant it. But Ginny knew that the ex-Vatican lawyer was part of that good fortune, taking on his civil case for free.

  “I’m leaving in less than a week, but I’ll try to get him to someone before I go. Any idea who?” He gave her the name of a psychologist he had worked with before, very successfully, particularly with boys in cases like this one, and Ginny jotted her name down.

  “Where are you going?” he asked, curious about her. Even though she was no longer a TV reporter, she seemed like an interesting person. He thought she had a fascinating job as an international human rights worker, but he didn’t know much more.

  “Syria, actually,” she said, as though it were a normal place to go.

  “Syria? Why there?”

  “I work for SOS/HR, as a field-worker. I usually go on three- or four-month missions three times a year, mostly to refugee camps. I just got back from Afghanistan.”

  “How long have you been doing that?” He was even more intrigued by what she said. She obviously went to dangerous places, was a gutsy woman, and had suffered in her own life.

  “I’ve been doing it since…” She caught herself. “For three and a half years, since I gave up TV news.” She didn’t want to sound pathetic by talking about Mark and Chris.

  “Where will Blue be while you’re gone?”

  “I’m only going for eight weeks this time. I made a deal with him, and he’s not happy about it. He stays at the Houston Street Shelter, which is a very decent place. He ran away when I was in Afghanistan. He promised he wouldn’t do that again. I’m giving him your number, too.” Andrew was smiling as he listened to her. She was a real person, and a pretty terrific one in his opinion, given what she was doing for Blue.

  “By the way, I think you’ll probably need a release from his aunt for the psychologist. She might not see him without it. Therapists can be sticklers about that.”

  “I’ll call his aunt and get her to sign one,” Ginny said easily.

  “It must be frustrating having her be the guardian when you have physical custody of him.”

  “Not really. She’s been very nice about signing whatever I’ve needed so far. I’ll give her a call.” They chatted for a few more minutes about her trip to Syria before they hung up. And knowing that Charlene was home in the daytime, since she worked at night, Ginny called her. She was very pleasant when Ginny told her how Blue was doing and that he’d be graduating in a few weeks, although sadly, she wouldn’t be there to see it. Charlene didn’t offer to go, and then Ginny explained that she needed her to sign another release.

  “What’s it for this time?” his aunt chuckled. “You taking him to Europe for his summer vacation?” She had been impressed when Ginny took him to L.A. He was a lucky kid in her opinion.

  “No,” Ginny said seriously, “I’d like to take him to a therapist.”

  “What kind of therapist?” Charlene asked. “Did he get hurt? That boy is always jumping on or off something. I’m not surprised.”

  “No, he’s fine,” Ginny said calmly. “I mean like a psychologist, that kind of therapist.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” Charlene sounded shocked, and Ginny wondered if she was nervous because her boyfriend had taken a swing at Blue, and didn’t want it known. Ginny hadn’t intended to explain it to her on the phone, but she felt like she had no choice, since Charlene had asked, and she didn’t want to lie to her and say it was for something else.

  “I think Blue tried to tell you about it a long time ago. He was very young, and he probably didn’t express himself convincingly at the time.” She was trying to give Charlene a gracious out for having failed to listen to him about something so important. “It seems that Blue was the victim of sexual abuse by a priest in your parish church when he was nine or ten. And we’re doing something about it now. We filed a police report last week against the perpetrator, and we’re going to file a civil suit against the archdiocese once he’s been charged with the crime.” There was dead silence at the other end.

  “What perpetrator?” Charlene said in a shocked voice.

  “Father Teddy Graham,” Ginny answered, as Blue’s aunt let out a piercing scream.

  “You can’t do that! Blue is lying to you! That priest is the finest man on Earth. Blue will burn in hell forever if he tells lies about that man!” She was frantic in the priest’s defense, much to Ginny’s dismay.

  “I’ve seen him, and I understand why you feel that way. He’s a very personable man. But the fact is, he sexually molested your nephew, and possibly other boys in the parish. He’s out there ruining young lives, and he has to be stopped. The police are investigating him now. And Blue isn’t going to hell for that or anything else. He was the victim of a sexual crime.” Ginny tried to stay as reasonable as possible and not lose her temper at Charlene.

  “He’s a liar and always was! He tried telling me that. I can tell you there’s no truth in it. You’re the one committing a crime if you try to put that man in jail. Father Teddy is a saint!” Listening to her made Ginny want to scream. But she forced herself to stay calm and rational, and she needed the release for him to see the shrink.

  “I know this is very upsetting. And I’m sure it’s hard to believe, since you like the man. But I think he duped everyone, and the truth is going to come out. Other boys will speak up. But in the meantime, I need that release for Blue.”

  “I’m not giving you a release or anything to help you persecute that man. And I don’t mean prosecute, I mean persecute! I’m not signing anything to help you do this ungodly thing, and you can tell Blue to forget I’m related to him if he doesn’t drop the charges against Father Teddy right now.” She made herself very clear, and a minute later Charlene said goodbye and put down the phone.

  Ginny called Andrew O’Connor back immediately and told him what had happened. He wasn’t surprised.

  “It happens all the time. It’s very threatening to people when you force them to face something like that, and she probably feels guilty for not listening to Blue earlier.”

  “It doesn’t sound like it. The man is so convincing and seductive, I saw it myself. In any case, she won’t give me a release, so I can’t take him to the shrink.” Ginny sounded discouraged. It had been a terrible conversation with Blue’s aunt.

  “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, “we don’t need the release now. It’s not pressing. You can try again when you get back.”

  She said that she would, but it didn’t sound likely that Charlene would sign it. And her own sister had taken the same extreme position to preserve the silence around the church, no matter what this very sick priest had done. Andrew wished Ginny good luck on her trip again, and they hung up.

  She didn’t tell Blue about her conversation with Charlene—there was no point.

  She got Blue the promised cell phone that week as a graduation present
; it comforted her to know that she could reach him if she could get to a phone herself.

  She also called her attorney and added an amendment to her will, and had it notarized. She still had money from Mark’s life insurance, the house sale, and her own savings, and she added a sizable bequest to Blue. Becky and her family didn’t need it, and if something happened to her, she wanted Blue to have it. It felt like the right thing to do. And on Saturday she helped him move to Houston Street. He looked bereft when she helped him unpack. She had promised to take him out to lunch the next day, and she was leaving on Monday.

  She checked the mail when she got home, and there was a letter for Blue from LaGuardia Arts high school. Ginny’s heart pounded as she carried it upstairs. She was itching to open it herself, but she didn’t. She would save it for lunch the next day, so he could open it himself. She hoped it was good news.

  When she picked him up at Houston Street on Sunday morning, Blue was waiting for her at the door. They had lunch at an outdoor café in the Village, and then she remembered the envelope in her purse. They both knew what it was. She was as nervous as he was while he opened it, and she was worried about what would happen if they’d turned him down. She knew he’d be bitterly disappointed, and she didn’t want to leave him for two months on a sour note. She watched his face intently as he read the letter, and for an instant nothing showed. And then, halfway through it, his big almost-electric blue eyes opened wide and stared at her.

  “OhmyGod, ohmyGod, they accepted me!” he shouted. Several heads on the terrace turned, and he didn’t care. “They accepted me!” He stood up and jumped and threw his arms around her. “I go to LaGuardia Arts high school now!”

  “I guess you do.” She sat beaming at him with tears in her eyes. It was a huge accomplishment for him that she hoped would change his life, which had been her intent when she got the application for him and made him apply. He could hardly speak for the rest of lunch. They walked around the Village for a while, then hopped into a cab and went to Central Park. They both ate ice cream, took a long walk, and lay on the grass. He looked happier than she’d ever seen him, and justifiably proud of himself. And she was very, very proud of him. He had texted Lizzie in L.A. on his new phone right after lunch, and she was thrilled for him. She had gotten into her first-choice high school, too, in Pasadena. And they wanted to see each other again. He kept hounding Ginny to invite Lizzie to New York.

  This time when she left him at Houston Street, he didn’t look upset. He was too excited about being accepted at LaGuardia Arts. He told Julio Fernandez about it as soon as he walked in the front door.

  “I guess we’d better enjoy your company before you get too famous to hang out with us anymore,” Julio teased him, with a grin at Ginny. “I hope you’re intending to play our piano while you’re here. We could use some decent music,” he said to Blue, who was ecstatic.

  Blue was still smiling when he hugged Ginny, and she kissed him goodbye. “Be good. If you run away this time, I’ll kill you,” she warned him, but she was smiling, and he knew she didn’t mean it. “I’ll call you whenever I can.” But she had told him again that it wouldn’t be often, because of where the camp was situated. As usual, she’d be out of touch most of the time.

  “Take care of yourself,” he said with a tender look. “I love you, Ginny.”

  “I love you, too, Blue. Remember that. I’ll be back,” she said, to remind him that he was no longer alone, that she loved him and cared about him. Blue was on his way to the amazing life she had promised. It made her aware, more than ever, that she wanted to come home safely from her next trip. She had to be there for Blue.

  Chapter 14

  Ginny didn’t call Becky before she left New York the next day, and didn’t want to talk to her, after everything she’d said about Blue, and their sexual abuse case against the priest. She had sent her a text that she was leaving, with her contact numbers for the next eight weeks so Becky would have them, in case something happened with their father. Becky didn’t respond, but she had all the information she needed.

  It was another endless journey to get to the camp near Homs, and when she arrived, conditions were even worse than she’d been told. Children in heartbreaking condition lay glassy-eyed on cots, barely clinging to life. There were young boys who had been raped, others with severed limbs, a beautiful young girl with her eyes gouged out by her father, whose family had abandoned her on the road rather than take care of her. Torture was being committed on children. It made Blue’s experience with Father Teddy look minor in comparison. She spent her time with injured young people in shocking situations, with inadequate provisions, under relentless tension. And each day more children were brought in. The Red Cross and medical volunteers did a heroic job and Ginny and the others did whatever they could to help. And because of the volatile political climate, all the workers were exceptionally careful, stayed in the camp, and went everywhere in pairs, or larger groups, whenever possible. Ginny concentrated on the injured children, and not the risks. The assignment broke everyone’s heart. And the rare times she was somewhere that she could get Internet access, she checked for e-mails from Andrew O’Connor and Blue. There were none from her sister on this trip. But at least it meant that their father was still alive. Ginny had never felt so physically and emotionally drained in her life. She was relieved it was only for eight weeks.

  Blue sounded all right in his e-mails to her. He complained about Houston Street, but less acutely than before. He seemed to have made his peace with it, and said he was composing music on their piano, which made her smile. If he was involved in music, she knew he’d be okay. His graduation had gone well, after she left, and he was doing odd jobs at the shelter to help out. He said it was hot in New York, and she was startled and pleased to read that Andrew O’Connor had come to visit him and Blue thought he was a great guy.

  Andrew’s e-mails to her were particularly interesting and hopeful. He told her that the police investigators had turned up several other instances of abuse committed by Father Teddy at St. Francis’s. Five other boys had come forward, and two at St. Anne’s in Chicago, and Andrew was sure there would be more. They had opened a Pandora’s box that had been tightly closed and sealed for years about the wayward priest, and the police suspected now that the archdiocese had been aware of some of the cases, and had moved him to Chicago so he could start with a clean slate. And once there, he had done it again. She could hardly wait to get home and learn more about what was going on, and be back with Blue again. For the first time on one of her assignments, she was anxious to get home. Andrew and the police had not shared any of the reports with him in her absence, and didn’t intend to until she got back. Andrew thought it best to wait until she returned, and so did she. There was nothing she could do from where she was.

  He mentioned seeing Blue, too; he had thought that Blue might be lonely without her, so he dropped by as a friend. He asked her permission to take him to a baseball game. She was touched that Andrew had asked her and e-mailed him back immediately to thank him and said Blue would be thrilled to go to a game with him, since he was a passionate Yankees fan. Andrew responded that he happened to know the owner of the team, and might be able to introduce Blue to some of the players. And the next time she heard from Blue, he raved about the fun he’d had and the players he’d met. He’d gotten two signed balls, a bat, and a glove, and he had Julio lock them up so they didn’t disappear. And he’d written a piece of music for Andrew to thank him. He wrote that Andrew played the piano, too, and had liked his composition. She was grateful for the time that Andrew was spending with him in her absence. It made her feel less out of touch halfway around the world, and she thought it was good for Blue to have a positive male influence in his life.

  She thanked Andrew herself by e-mail, and he responded and inquired about her work in Syria. It was hard to describe in an e-mail the daily tragedies she was encountering, which were routine there, and the injustices that were commonplace, mostly against women
and children. He responded thoughtfully, with compassion, and he sent her a joke and a New Yorker cartoon at the end of it, which made her laugh before she went back to work. It made civilization seem a little less remote. He sounded like a nice person, deeply committed to his work and clients, which she had suspected when they met.

  Conditions in the camp remained tense while she was there, and everyone was busy. The Red Cross had sent additional workers, as had other international groups. It would be hard to relate to ordinary life after an experience like this. New York seemed like another planet, compared to what she was doing and seeing every day. The sheer human misery of such severely injured children who had no hope of a better life was overwhelming. It made her want to take them all home with her.

  Her living situation in the camp was the worst she’d been in. The time in Syria seemed longer and harder to her than her previous assignments, and the eight weeks she spent there felt like an eternity, and she was relieved when her replacement arrived, only two days before she was due to leave. Several of the workers were starting to get seriously sick, and were being sent home. Ginny had had dysentery for weeks, and had lost ten pounds since she’d arrived. It had been one of her toughest assignments yet, many of the less experienced workers were severely disheartened, and the more seasoned ones were exhausted. There was still so much left to do when she left, but she was ready to go home, and excited to see Blue again. She slept without stirring on the first leg of the trip, from Homs to Damascus.