Father Leo had a huge bald head, and a smile that went from ear to ear when he was in a good mood. When he was in a bad mood, he shook his fist at whoever happened to stand in his way, assuring them they were all headed for Hell if they didn’t take their religion seriously. He could be seen at night walking up and down the sidewalk in front of the church, reciting litanies to honor saints and supplicating for the souls of his disobedient parishioners. It was rumored he had a crucifix in his room with a Jesus hanging on it with real glass eyes that shone in the dark and kept Father Leo company as he lay on his bed weeping over the sins of the world.
When Luz approached Father Leo about taking Big Boy under his wing, he told her he would hear his confession, then asked her to pay the two-dollar fee so he could join the St. Anthony’s Boys Club. Most of the club members were altar boys, and were also part of Father Leo’s baseball team. Big Boy wasn’t athletic, so he told the priest he’d rather just be an altar boy and not play ball, and the priest told him that confession was the first requirement for becoming an altar boy, as boys with ruined souls were unacceptable.
In the dark box that represented the confessional, Father Leo prepared to hear Big Boy’s confession one Saturday afternoon, with two skinny girls and their grandmother waiting in line outside the thick curtain that covered the doorway of the chamber. Big Boy’s legs felt like two iron rods glued to the vinyl-covered kneeler with its seam ripped open on one end.
The screened panel opened with a sound that made Big Boy jump, and in the dim light he saw Father Leo’s profile leaning up against the wire mesh.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” His mouth went dry as he fumbled for the rest of the words. “Ah … this is Big Boy.”
“Don’t tell me who you are!” said Father Leo impatiently. “You’re a sinner, that’s the only important thing, God doesn’t care about anything else.” On the other side of the thick curtain, Big Boy heard one of the skinny girls laugh, and he wondered if they were standing close enough to hear what the priest had said. “Now tell me the truth, did you shoplift at Woolworth’s? As you know, Thou shalt not steal is one of the Ten Commandments.”
“No, Father, I didn’t steal, but I wanted to … sometimes.”
“Well, wanting to is just as bad as doing it. You have to live clean from your heart. The Devil wants your heart, don’t you understand?” Then there was a pause, and Father Leo moved closer to the wire mesh screen. “Never mind about Woolworth’s,” he whispered. “What about that girl who disappeared last year, what do you know about her? She was one of your friends, wasn’t she?”
“Who? Nanda?”
“Yes, Nanda. I know how you boys looked at her … and now she’s gone.”
Big Boy’s face got bright red in the dark confessional. He felt hot, and shuffled on the kneeler. He knew who Nanda was, all the boys did. She wasn’t afraid to let the boys touch her breasts, two huge mounds that grew on her chest, on summer nights at Harmon Park. Usually one of the older boys would end up taking Nanda around the backside of the bathroom stalls, behind bushes that grew next to the concrete wall, and spend time touching her in the dark and doing things that all the other boys wanted to do. Even Simon the Freak had put his hands on Nanda, and he was a kid who didn’t even get a hug from his own mother. The boys didn’t have to worry about Nanda’s father and mother coming by to get her, as her parents were the neighborhood drug dealers. Both were junkies and most nights they were busy entertaining some thugs who drove a black Oldsmobile with a Nevada license plate.
“Were you one of the boys who touched Nanda?”
“No. But I gave her a gift once … a little cross.”
“The one you stole from Woolworth’s?” “No! It was my sister’s, but she didn’t want it anymore.”
“Well, you still stole it if it belonged to your sister. And why did you give it to Nanda? What did you want? Did you think nasty things about her?”
Big Boy felt his hands sweating, and his heart thumping against his T-shirt. “Yes, I guess I did. But I gave her the gift because she was my friend.”
“All the boys were her friends!” said Father Leo. “Don’t get smart. Now say ten Our Fathers, and ten Hail Marys as penance. And don’t let me hear that you’ve been stealing again, or thinking nasty thoughts about girls.” He mumbled an absolution, and raised his hand in the dim light, blessing Big Boy. Then, with one quick motion, he shut the screened panel.
The next day, Big Boy walked by Nanda’s apartment and noticed the black Oldsmobile with the Nevada license plate parked outside on the street. He peaked inside the car and saw a girl’s jacket in the backseat. Through the tinted windows he couldn’t tell if it was Nanda’s. He thought of the girl, of her soft, fleshy breasts, and felt guilty for lying to Father Leo. He had touched Nanda, and had never forgotten how beautiful her skin had felt under his hand. He had kissed her too, because she had told him he could. He had looked into Nanda’s dark eyes, stared deep into the luminous pupils, shiny as if she had just shed tears, and he had seen her sadness. Instinctively, he had looked up at the sky, as it seemed to him that a part of Nanda had suddenly taken flight. She had stood in front of him that Sunday night when he was still in seventh grade and she was already in eighth. Just stood there, watching his hand on her breast, as if she was a mannequin, and he could have done anything he had wanted to do. Big Boy had gently smoothed back her hair and hooked the chain with the tiny silver crucifix around her neck. She had smiled at him then, and it was the first time Big Boy had seen the dimples on her cheeks.
Big Boy dismissed the memory of the silver chain from his mind … the one he had stolen at Woolworth’s. Another lie he had told Father Leo. The clerk had been right, he had indeed lifted things from Woolworth’s, including the silver chain he had given to Nanda. She had been happy wearing it, and Big Boy didn’t regret taking it.
Nanda wasn’t in school the next day, and nobody gave it a second thought. She had been absent many times, and Monday was one of her favorite days to stay home. There was talk that she wouldn’t be able to graduate, and would have to repeat the eighth grade. Big Boy hoped she’d fail, so she could be in his class, then he’d get closer to her, maybe be the one who took her behind the bathroom wall at Harmon Park.
Nanda’s parents were unconcerned by her disappearance, saying she had the habit of running away to her sister’s in Los Angeles and hiding out. She’d be back soon, they said. The truant officer from school stopped by, but could get nothing more from them. They weren’t worried, they said, she’d come back, this was normal for her. But the girl didn’t come back. She had simply disappeared and people in the projects talked about it every day for months. The girls were glad she was gone, now they had more control over their boyfriends, and their mothers were glad to be rid of her, now their daughters wouldn’t be plagued by Nanda’s loose ways.
“She’s probably pregnant,” Atalia told Big Boy one time when she visited with him at juvie. “She’s probably somewhere having a baby, and she’ll be back after she has it.”