Years ago, they had packed Mary Lou into the motherhouse on a bright and promising day. Their son hadn’t bothered to see his sister off. A heavy date.
Jake wore his blue serge suit. A bit warm for that season. But it was Jake’s sole evidence of civility.
Mildred had been so happy. Her daughter had climbed upon a pedestal much like the statuette of the Blessed Mother in their living room.
Where Mary Lou had ever gotten the idea to become a nun Mildred was at a loss to know. But there she was: pristine under yards and yards of religious habit.
And now she’d thrown it all away! To run off with a priest, of all things! What could a priest do to earn a living? In no time, Mildred just knew it, Mary Lou would be back on the Helpern doorstep. Probably bring the priest with her. Two more mouths to feed-or even more, if they had kids. Jake would be furious.
Mildred prayed for her daughter. Mildred prayed that her daughter would find happiness-countless miles from the Helpern family.
On the other hand, there were the Thompsons: mother, father, and sister of the once and-what they determined would be-future Father Thompson.
No sooner did the Thompsons receive Greg’s announcement than they made an appointment with a chancery priest. That was the first of many meetings with secretaries, information officers, priests, monsignors, and, at long last, the bishop.
As a result of their perseverance, they reached a tentative agreement with the diocese that (a) If Gregory Thompson had not attempted a civil marriage (b) If it was judged, after careful investigation, that his enterprise had not made him notorious in the diocese (c) If he were ready to blindly, totally, and completely follow the directives of his diocesan authorities, he might be permitted to once again function as a priest.
But, the bishop warned, those “ifs” were very iffy.
Thus armed with a tentative agreement, Harold, Joan, and Rose headed for Greg’s and Mary Lou’s apartment.
The Thompsons spent the better part of that evening arguing and pleading with Greg and Mary Lou. In the end, considering the small wave he had made in the worldly economy, Greg leaned toward returning to a life he really hadn’t wanted to leave in the first place.
It would, of course, be difficult to part from Mary Lou. But … she was the only woman with whom he had ever been sexually active. And who knew? With all the good intentions in the world, it might happen again. Except that if there were a next time, he would be much more cautious in his selection.
Mary Lou fought off the Thompsons far more forcefully than Greg did. How dare they meddle in the lives of two consenting adults!
However, as the hours passed that fateful evening, Mary Lou felt her hold on Greg slipping. He was wavering; she knew it. At first she was furious. Then she began to think of all those interesting men at school, as well as in the service station, the supermarket … well, just about everywhere.
The only man she knew in a complex, complete manner was Greg Thompson. And he clearly wanted out. More and more she thought she could get on very well without him.
There were so many others cut there to meet and experience.
Covering her true feelings carefully, at long last she agreed to the decision that had been reached by everyone but her.
There would be no fuss, no trouble, especially no litigation. Greg was free to leave. Tonight. This very moment, for all she cared.
And so, in the family car-they would arrange for the return of his car later-they headed for home.
At first, Greg took the wheel. But as his father feared, the young man had gone through so much emotional turmoil, his driving was rather erratic. So, just outside the city on the way homeward, Mr. Thompson insisted that he himself drive the rest of the way.
Greg was too exhausted to argue strenuously. With a few pro forma objections, he traded places with his father, leaving his mother and his sister in the backseat.
The passengers quickly drifted off to sleep. For mother and sister there was satisfaction in what they’d accomplished. Much more so than they had anticipated: They had gone after the lost sheep and he had been found. He would be restored to the fold.
Greg, alternating between dreams and wakefulness, slept fitfully. Mary Lou drifted in and out of his dreams.
Mr. Thompson was tired. But he was very much aware of his responsibility to his family. After an exhausting day and most of a night, it was all he could do to stay alert, all the while offering prayers of thanksgiving for his son and for the faith and perseverance that had sustained them and won the battle.
In no way was it Mr. Thompson’s fault that the driver of a pickup truck, drowsy and drunk, driving at a recklessly high speed, crossed the median.
Thompson hit the brakes so hard the pedal almost went through the floorboard. The car skidded, fishtailed, and presented its left rear corner to the truck.
The crash was horrendous.
Thompson’s car folded like an accordion. Mother and daughter, crushed beyond recognition, died instantly. Father died within minutes.
The driver of the truck lived long enough to be taken to a hospital, where, after lengthy but futile surgery, he was pronounced dead.
Greg had not been wearing a seat belt. Atypically, that proved providential; had he not been thrown clear of the car, he would have been crushed by the large branch that crashed through the front passenger side. Despite multiple internal injuries and broken bones, Greg would live. Perhaps, with faithful physical therapy, he might regain some, if not all of his motion.
A passing motorist encountered the accident and summoned help. Greg knew none of this; all he knew was that he could hear metal groaning as it settled against the pavement, and the drip, drip, drip of liquids.
He could not move. He thought of his life. He thought of Mary Lou. He had sinned. What sudden and overwhelming punishment God could visit on His children when they betrayed His love!
He called out to his father, his mother, his sister. No reply. Did they need help? Were they pinned in the wreckage? Why didn’t they answer?
Maybe they were unconscious. Please God, let them be unconscious. Not dead. Not dead!
He would do anything, be chaste the rest of his days, if only his family could be spared.
Bargaining with God. It had come to that!
There was a distant noise. It sounded like … it was a siren. Help was. coming.
Thank God. Now he would get some answers.
20
“Some story!” Father Tully had virtually forgotten the pool game. “But isn’t it kind of racy to tell in church-or even to church people?”
Koesler smiled. “You got the unexpurgated version. I heard Vince tell the story to a small gathering of priests at a Forty Hours devotion. That was pretty close to what I just told you. And it was the only time I ever heard him tell it. But I have it on good authority that he used it periodically. Lately, with the mass exodus of priests and nuns, he’s had to modify some of the details. It’s no longer such a cataclysmic event. But the essence of the story remains.”
Tully tipped his head to one side. “I’m afraid I don’t get the point. If Greg is the focus of that story, then … what? He seems to have come out of it smelling like a rose. Here’s a fatal car crash. Four people lose their lives. One comes out alive. What’s the moral? God spares the sinner and lets, at least three innocent people die? Where’s the moral lesson in that?”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
“Oh … sorry.”
“No problem. This is the way the story ends. Four people die. Two are killed instantly. Two survive for a short period, then they too die.
“Greg survives. But just think how he felt when he came out of surgery and was told he was the sole survivor. It would be perfectly natural to take on a lot of the guilt for all this carnage. If he hadn’t run off with Mary Lou, his. parents wouldn’t have gotten involved in trying to get him back. They never would have made that trip … the trip that took their lives.