Page 207 - What They Did to the Kid
P. 207

What They Did to the Kid                                  195

               He exhaled clouds of blue smoke. “And March 17, the day for driving
               snakes out of Ireland.”
                   “I have made progress. I’ve meditated and thought and prayed
               a thousand hours to get where I’ve gotten. I care about people and
               about God and I’m hurt because so many other people here don’t
               care at all. About anything. I’ve written editorials about apathy in
               seminary life. That went over big. Rector Karg screamed at me that
               I might be the editor, but he was the rector.”
                  “Priests and seminarians don’t like criticism.”
                  “I wasn’t being critical. I care. That’s all. I see this tremendous
               sense of social responsibility. Don’t I have a responsibility now to
               awaken seminarians the way later I must awaken my parish? We
               all need to care. I don’t think most people realize their potential for
               caring. They never stretch their lives.”
                  “You know your potential?”
                  “Not yet. I’m discovering it. Pushing the sides out farther and
               farther. It’s...” I stopped because the Reverend Sean O’Malley, S. J.,
               didn’t act as if he understood.
                  “What?”
                  “Oh, convoluted, involuted, upside down. Nothing’s either black
               or white to me any more. I see an awful lot of gray. I see meanings
               to life, and double meanings to everything, and the meanings have
               been so hard to come by that I want to explain them to everyone
               else.”
                  “Through Christ.”
                  “Of course. He was a worker. I want to create and run before the
               wind. I want children. Not my own. Not just the selfish satisfaction
               of one child. But hoards of everybody’s children. And everybody.”
                  He chain-lit another cigarette. He said nothing.
                  “I’m sorry,” I said, “that I talk to you like this. Without any
               preface. But I talk this way to my closest friends. We had to learn to
               counsel each other.”
                  He looked hard at me. “I’ll not be saying anything bad about
               my predecessor.”
                  “You must know, it’s been so long, it’s been never, actually, since
               we’ve had adequate spiritual counseling.”
                  “You boys are vain and demanding boys.”


                        ©Jack Fritscher, Ph.D., All Rights Reserved
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