“I confessed to the prison chaplain.” He pointed at his night table. “I told him everything. It’s in my notebook. March 12, 1994.”
Leonard went to the night table. He was pleased to find the notebook where he’d returned it, the drawer closed. “March 12, 1994?”
“It was a Saturday. I told him about all of you. God forgave me.”
Leonard made a show of flipping through the pages. “There’s no entry for March 12, 1994.” There was, however, a smear of blood on the next page, Leonard’s blood.
“I’ll never forget that day.” Scanlon beckoned for the book and turned the first page. “It’s right here.”
“That’s March 15,” Leonard said. “I don’t see any thing about a priest forgiving you. Maybe you’ve forgotten.”
Scanlon’s face looked desperate. He took the notebook and turned through every page. “I was forgiven,” he said. “I told the chaplain. He made me do penance. I wrote to all the boys. Letters.”
“There’s nothing about any letters.”
“I wrote them. It took me four days.”
“Maybe you weren’t forgiven?”
Scanlon hands began to tremble. He dropped the notebook on the floor. “I remember it so vividly.”
“I never got any letter.”
“The chaplain, his name was Reverend —”
“It’s your condition. You’ve forgotten.”
“Whose blood is this in my book? It looks new.”
“It’s yours. You had a paper cut the other day.”
Scanlon looked at his fingers. “I see no wound.”
“No, you never did.”
Scanlon jerked his fists. “I was forgiven. I was forgiven.”
Leonard shook his head. “You forgave yourself.”
“Everything is going away, Leonard. My mind — I can’t remember who I am.”
Leonard told Scanlon everything he’d done to him as a boy until the old man begged him to forgive him. He called his mother and told her that he was staying in Vancouver — how long, he didn’t know. He wanted to be by his dying friend’s side until — “You know, like with Dad’s cancer,” Leonard said.
He went back to the hospital two days later. Late in the day, when he was sure Scanlon didn’t remember him or what they’d talked about.
“I’m Leonard Jimmy,” he said. “I was your altar boy. Remember the second Sunday of Advent 1978?”
He smiled when the old man shook his head.
2 Comments
Powerful stuff! A thoughtful perspective on a challenging topic.
Really love this story! It took me back to the Catholic school I went to as a kid, the priest there… oh man!