Chapter 17

Sister Clara would have to talk to me.

When I opened the front door to go inside, the entrance way was empty. I remembered then it was Thursday, and all the boys old enough were at the school, and the younger ones were in the nursery. I didn't want to try Mother Superior's office, so I went over to the kitchen to say hello to Marie. I found her there, trying to clean up the mess left over from that morning's breakfast. She was happy to see me, and gave me a hug. When I started working in the big double sink, filling one side with hot water and soap, Marie protested a little. When she saw I was determined to help her out, she relented, bringing me several stacks of dishes to begin working on. As we worked, we talked, catching up on how things were going with her. She told me about some of the incidents that had taken place in my absence. There had been several adoptions of younger boys, and two runaways. Only one of the runaways had been caught and returned. The other one was a ten year old boy that I had known, and he had never turned up. He had been gone for two months, and not finding him by then had been unusual. Marie was worried that something bad had happened to him.

I asked about Sister Clara, and Marie told me that she was over at the school, delivering the school records for two new boys. I told Marie what Uncle Bunny had told me about Sister Clara maybe being my real aunt. While we were talking, all of the breakfast dishes got done, and I took the deep metal food trays, from the serving line, out to the delivery landing, so I could clean them too. Marie kept busy inside, wiping down the counters and putting the clean breakfast dishes and silverware away. I left the clean food trays outside to dry, and fixed a mop bucket to do the kitchen floors with. I made the water as hot as my hands could stand it, and then put in the detergent. I liked mopping. When I lived at St. Cecelia's, I used to mop quite a bit. It looked like harder work than it was, and you could keep people away from you by mopping the area between you and them. Sometimes, when I was being punished, I'd mop every floor in the orphanage. I used to polish some of the floors too, but the big power buffer wasn't that much fun to operate. It was old, and it would sometimes get away from me. When I got bigger, that was less of a problem, but it was never as good as mopping was. I could get lost in my mind when I was mopping.

When I was done with the mopping and the rinsing, I took the mop and bucket outside and cleaned them both good. I came back inside the kitchen, and Marie was standing there talking to Mother Superior. As soon as we saw each other, I stopped walking and Mother Superior stopped talking. We had always had this adversarial relationship. She treated me one way in front of strangers or visitors, but when we were alone, or around people she had control over, she treated me differently.

"Kenneth, what are you doing here?" Her tone of voice made it clear she wasn't pleased to see me coming in through the back like I had.

"Hello Mother Superior. I was visiting Sister Clara, but she wasn't here, so I thought I'd give Marie a hand with the breakfast cleanup, while I waited." She took a moment to process what I'd said. I guess she couldn't think of any good reason to be mad at my donating free labor to her, so she let it pass.

"Why did you wish to see Sister Clara, specifically?"

"Because I always liked her, and I wanted to see how she's doing. My parents wanted to find out if she needed anything for the boys."

"Yes, your new parents. They've been very generous to all of us here at St. Cecilia's. I do hope you aren't being a trial to them, Kenneth. You are such a fortunate young man to have been taken into their home. They must be very tolerant people." The way she said that last part, made me angry at her all over again. The two of us always seemed to rub each other the wrong way. I hadn't even been thinking about Mother Superior before this, other than for hoping I didn't have to run into her. After one minute, she had already succeeded in making me mad. She always had that ability with me. This time though, I recognized that she was doing it deliberately. She must have believed that my being angry gave her some advantage over me. Well, if she was trying to make me angry, I had to try not to get angry.

"Thank you Mother. I think it was your prayers that made all of this turn out so good for me. I'm thankful for everything they've given me. You should see my new bedroom suite, it's bigger than this whole kitchen. My mother and father each gave me a million dollars too." I watched her face, hoping to see a reaction from her over the part about the two million. It didn't wait long to show itself either. She frowned at first, then put on her phony smile for me.

"I hope your good fortune inspired you to be grateful, and to use it wisely in the furtherance of our Lord's good works?" I could see the naked greed shining through her smile, and her oily words.

"It does, Mother. That's another reason why I wanted to see Sister Clara, but, if she's busy today, I can go home. Maybe I can get another ride sometime and come back, or, maybe, I'll use this other idea I've had, about Father Flanagan's Boy's Town up in Omaha. We just bought a new company up in Omaha, and I've seen things on the television about Boy's Town."

"I'm sure Sister Clara can spare the time to speak with you, Kenneth. After all, you were always one of her favorites."

"Wasn't I one of your favorites too, Mother?" The way I said it, anyone could see I was just fooling around with her. I really expected her to laugh, and make some kind of smart reply about me being her least favorite. What happened next surprised me.

"I'm not allowed to have favorites, Kenneth. I have to look out for all the boys, to try to do what's best for St. Cecilia's, and for all the souls placed in my care. Unfortunately, I'm only human, with all the weaknesses that condition brings. I treated you more harshly than any of the others, Kenneth, but I did it because you left me no other choice. It was the only way I could justify keeping you with us as long as we did. Did you never wonder why you were the only boy kept here past the age of eleven? In the thirty years I've been at St. Cecelia's, we've kept only two boys past their twelfth birthdays, you and Ronald Barker. What happened with poor Ronald was unfortunate. He had become damaged in ways we never could have anticipated, he had been abused as a youngster, in a group home setting, before coming here to us. There are some boys you can't bear to send away, knowing they have special needs, and thinking that only you can protect them. For me, that was you and Ronald. To answer your question though, no, you were not a favorite, but you were, nevertheless, special to me."

I certainly hadn't felt special, not unless being constantly picked on and punished could be considered special. I can't say that Mother Superior went out of her way to involve herself in my punishments or to rule on any infractions I might have committed, but whenever she did, she was never fair to me. She always took the other side against me. She was right though, I was the oldest, and the biggest, boy at the orphanage, for a very long time. I thought a big part of the reason they kept me had to do with my being able to do so much work at the orphanage. When I looked back at it though, it must have been a lot of trouble to put up with someone as stubborn as I was.

"What was my special need? All I wanted was to be left alone." I didn't make too much effort to disguise the anger I was feeling towards her.

"Kenneth, I've never met a boy as closed off as you were. You pushed everyone away from you, allowing no one to get close. All the other boys had friends, and developed close relationships with one or more of the Sisters here. Who were you ever close to?"

"I was close to some of the boys."

"Name me one boy that you were close to, just one." I thought about what she said, trying to think back to any one special friend. There were boys that I'd played with, or ones that I'd tried to either help or protect, but none I could really remember being close pals with.

"I was always close with Marie." I looked over at Marie then, hoping she would confirm our closeness, but, instead, she was crying. I felt closer to Marie than I did to anyone at the orphanage. I knew then what Mother Superior was saying was true. I remembered the awkward first hug with Marie the day I left. It was the first time we'd touched. It had felt very awkward at the time, because I hadn't touched anyone for years before that, unless it was just accidental contact, or a fight.

"Seeing you now, Kenneth, and the progress you've made since leaving here, I'm forced to question whether I did you any service by keeping you with us for so long. Perhaps, what you really needed was to be gone from here. That isn't what I believed, but perhaps, that is all that was required."

This wasn't the way I thought the conversation was going to end up. I was still pretty certain that my take on Mother Superior was accurate, but I was starting to believe her motive for doing some of the things she did, might have been misinterpreted by me. She was still two faced, and motivated by different things than she pretended.

"When do you suppose Sister Clara will be available for me to talk with?" Mother Superior looked happy that I had chosen to drop our earlier conversational subject, and to get us back on less emotional footing.

"If you'd like to wait here with Marie, I'll go to my office and call over to the school to try to hurry her along. I'm sure she can be here in fifteen minutes or less. You wait right here though, don't leave." Mother Superior hurried off. She was a fairly big woman, given to too much eating, and too little physical exercise. She had to be in her middle fifties, and I knew she suffered from gout and circulation problems.

"Mejo, she's right about how much you've changed since you left here. Before, I always worried about what would happen to you. You were always so alone when you were here. Now, you're different, more comfortable to be around. Before, I liked you, and I really appreciated the way you came to help me all the time. I used to wonder why you kept coming, because you almost never spoke to me, and you didn't seem to care about how people felt about you."

"I liked being in the kitchen, and I still do. You always thanked me for helping you, and you made me those nice breakfasts. I thought we were close. I liked you more than any of the others."

"Kenny, we talked more in half an hour today, than we did for the nine years I've been working here. The only other times we've talked have been when you've come here to visit, since you left. Before, it was like you never cared to talk that much. This new you is a lot happier than the old you was. People here all noticed the difference. You're more like a normal boy now, not so withdrawn all the time."

Sister Clara came into the kitchen then, and stopped inside the doorway.

"Hi, Kenny, Mother said you wanted to see me?" I went over to Marie and gave her a big hug, the kind of hug Mama always gave me. I kissed her on her cheek, and told her I had always liked her a lot, ever since she came there, and started being the cook. I told her the reason I came by and helped her everyday, was because that was how I tried to let her know that I liked her.

I went over to Sister Clara then, and hugged her too. I didn't kiss her, because I knew she wouldn't want me to. Sometimes, the Sisters would kiss a kid, but usually only the smallest ones. Kids weren't supposed to try to kiss them back. She seemed surprised that I'd even try to hug her, but she didn't try to pull away. I told her I'd like to go for a walk with her, and discuss how things were going at the orphanage. We went out the front door, and started walking down the street, towards downtown Bolling. At first, Sister Clara asked me about my parents, wanting to know if we were all getting along good still. I told her things were going well, and that I felt very much a part of my new family. I told her about my new room, and about the school I went to. All the time we're talking, we're still walking towards the downtown shopping area.

"My Uncle Bunny has been looking for my real family, Sister Clara. He's already found my real father, and an aunt of mine. He says my real mother's name is Anne." I watched her face closely, while I said this to her, but she didn't change her expression much. Her face did seem to get a little bit paler, but that might just have been my imagination. She didn't say anything, or make any indication that she'd heard what I'd said. "He told me that you're my aunt." She stopped walking then, looking at me, but still not speaking. "Is he right, are you my aunt?"

"Have you discussed this with Mother Superior, Kenny?"

"About you being my real aunt? No. I wanted to talk to you first. I think my Uncle might be trying to bribe her into giving him information about your family name, and the contact information for some members of your family. He might have told her, but I haven't."

"I would be in serious trouble with the order if it were revealed what I had done in bringing you to St. Cecelia's. I thought it would be for the best, for everyone, at the time. It was only supposed to be temporary, while I waited for Anne to come get you. We didn't know then that Anne wouldn't make a recovery from her injuries. She had been in a car accident, and she was in a coma. I had a friend in the social services department, a woman case worker, who helped me arrange for you to be placed at St. Cecelia's." When Anne didn't recover, it was too late to undo what had already been done. There would have been too many questions. My friend would have been fired, and I would have gotten in a lot of trouble for my part in it."

She had just told me that my real mother was dead. She should have stopped right there. I didn't know my real mother, had no memories of her, but, even so, learning of her death was something that deserved some period of silence. Enough, at least, to allow me to absorb the fact of it. To digest it, and grow accustomed to having one of the pivotal questions of my childhood finally answered. I couldn't begin to count the number of times I'd thought about my mother, speculating about what she was like, or asking myself how she could have given me up. I'd been so angry with her for doing that, always believing deep down inside, that she had simply thrown me away. A thousand thoughts and feelings assaulted my brain at once. I was overwhelmed and overcome. I remember getting ready to scream at Sister Clara, to tell her to please shut up, to let me have some time alone with the idea of my mother's death.

I woke up in a hospital in Bolling. I'd collapsed, emotionally overwrought is what the nurse told me I'd been. She said my reaction wasn't that uncommon with older people, but was pretty unusual in a child. I was almost sixteen years old, and I no longer considered myself a child. I had been unconscious for about three hours. The nurse told me that Sister Clara was in the waiting area, anxiously waiting for me to regain consciousness. She asked me if I felt up to having Sister Clara come in to see me. I told her yes. While the nurse went to get Sister Clara, I tried to think of something I could say to her when she got there. I really wanted to let her know that she had been the cause of my collapse. When she came in, the nurse was with her, so I held off on yelling at her right away. I waited until the nurse left. In the meantime, Sister Clara came over closer to my bed.

"Kenny, what happened to you? You're eyes rolled up and you dropped like a stone. I thought you had epilepsy or something. I was afraid you would go into convulsions."

"You tell me my mother's dead with one breath, and with your next one, you're worrying about getting into trouble, or your friend being fired."

"Anne's not dead! I didn't say she was dead. She just hasn't recovered. She is in what they refer to as a persistent vegetative state, but she isn't dead. She's living at home with our mother."

"Where does your mother live?"

"In Ridgeline, where we've always lived. Anne doesn't know anyone, or even where she is, Kenny. She's completely oblivious to her surroundings, or to the greater world around her."

I asked her where my clothes were, but she told me I had to stay in bed until the doctor came back to examine me. I couldn't be released until the doctor said so.

"I need to get my Dad's business card, so I can call him to come get me. I want to go home now."

"Do you want me to try to find it and call him, Kenny? I need to be getting back before Mother starts worrying about where I've gotten off to. My mother's house is over on Grafton Street, 122 Grafton. Her name is Mildred Coulter. My father is dead, his name was Alan Coulter. Please try not to think badly of me, Kenny. Whatever I did, I did it because it was the best I could think of doing for you."

She went into the closet and found my clothes, going through my pockets until she found Dad's card. She promised not to leave until she got in contact with him. I watched her as she went out the door. I had much better feelings towards her before I discovered that she was my real aunt. She lived at the orphanage too, and she knew what it had been like there for me. I wondered what my life would have been like if she had treated me like a nephew, letting me know about my real mother, and how I had come to be at St. Cecelia's.

My father came to the hospital about half an hour after Sister Clara left my room. By then, the doctor had come in and asked me a few questions. He wanted to make sure I wasn't injured, and that I remembered everything, both from before and after I'd passed out. By the time my Dad came, the hospital was ready to release me to anyone who would sign papers taking responsibility for the charges for the ambulance that brought me there, and for the hospital and doctor charges. My dad must have done all of that, because as soon as he came in and saw that I was all right, he told me to get dressed because we were leaving.