Wrestling With God
Page 21
All this sounded interesting but I was too tired and sleepy to try to understand it. "Well, I'm going to bed and pretend I'm a hermit for, hopefully, eight hours. You two can solve all the world's problems and tell me about it in the morning."
Chapter 29
REBECCA
"Who's there? Who's there?" Kathy called out in a very weak voice. I was sleeping in the one soft chair near Kathy's bed in the Intensive Care Unit. It was the first time she had awakened since the fall the evening before. Julie had gone down to the cafeteria and I had involuntarily closed my eyes and ended up with a brief nap. Kathy had begun calling me "Mom" about a month ago. This girl, all wrapped up in head bandages, sounded like a frightened young child. I responded, "Good morning, Kathy. I'm Mom and I'm here."
"And my name is Kathy, right? What is my last name?" She put her right hand up to her face and touched a bandage over her eyes. She continued, sounding fearful, as she asked, "Why do I have bandages on my eyes? Have I hurt my eyes? Am I blind?"
"First, Kathy, you are not blind. I think they put the bandages over your eyes to protect them from any bright lights. We'll ask. Kathy, do you remember last evening when you were knocked down and hurt your head?"
"No, I don't remember." She put a hand on the railings on each side of the bed. "I'm in the hospital, ain't I?"
I wanted to correct her English like my mother would have done, but knew that would be insensitive like my mother had been. I selfishly thought that if she had a serious case of amnesia, I would have the burden of caring for another helpless child. That would be my mother's reaction, I'm sure. I asked, "Kathy, what do you remember?"
"Not much, I guess. It seems like you don't sound like my mom, but I don't really remember my mom, so I don't know why I think that. Are you really my mom?"
"No, I am not your birth mother. In fact, I'm not officially your step-mom but you have been living with us for about four months." Just then, Julie came into the room and I added, "Julie, this is Kathy, and she's trying to figure out who she is. So, Kathy, Julie is sort of your older step-sister." To hopefully jog her memory, I added, "She's a star basketball player. Do you know her or that she plays basketball?"
"Mom, you're talking like we've just met, for Pete's sake. Boy, Kathy, you sure look weird with all those bandages. You do know me, don't you?"
Kathy started to cry and still sounding very young, she said, "I, I, I guess I don't know anything. I didn't even know my name and I don't know your name either. I mean I didn't know until your mom called you Julie. And I can't see you, of course. I wish I could see you."
I pushed the nurse's call button and asked her if she could remove the bandages over Kathy's eyes. A pretty young R.N. came in and introduced herself as Susan. She looked at Kathy's chart and said, "The bandages are to protect your eyes. I'll open one a little and you tell me if it hurts." She gently peeled back a portion of the left eye covering and asked if it hurt. Kathy said "no" and the nurse removed the entire left eye bandage and then the right.
Kathy looked like a stoner who had just walked into a brightly lit room. She looked at each of us as if we were statues and said, "You're all so big. You are big and I'm little, huh?"
I had taken her left hand and Julie held her right as the nurse had removed the bandages. I said, "I don't think we're so big, Kathy, and you are only a little smaller than Julie."
"Really? I feel so little." Her voice sounded more like a six or seven year old than the fourteen year old that she was. "Susan, I can't remember anything. Why can't I remember?"
"You fell down last evening and hurt your head very badly. Sometimes a head injury results in some kind of amnesia or loss of memory. You have some memory; for example, you can remember how to speak English and you'll probably find that you will remember more and more. We'll just have to wait and see. How do you feel? Headache? Are you hungry?"
"I have a bit of a headache and I am hungry." Her voice continued to be weak and young-sounding.
Susan asked what she would like to eat and Kathy said she didn't know. Susan turned to me and asked what Kathy usually had for breakfast and I told her that she often ate corn flakes and toast and orange juice. The nurse said she would order it.
Julie pulled a chair up on Kathy's right side and I sat on her left. Cheerfully, Julie asked, "Well, Kathy, tell us something about yourself—like anything you see, hear, remember. Just talk to us and things will begin to come clear for you. Okay?" I was impressed with Julie's manner and sensitivity, almost like she was an experienced counselor. That, I was sure, would be needed in the weeks and months to come.
"First, how come I live with youse guys? And where is my real mom? And will I have to go back to that ugly trailer?" She put a hand over her mouth and said, "Why did I say that, do we live in an old trailer house in a trailer park? Ugh." Kathy looked to her right and then at me.
"You used to live in a trailer home. Kathy, your mother died there, or I should say, you both were living there when your mother got sick and she went to the hospital where she died. That was about five months ago. We could not find any relatives of your mother's and so I volunteered to take you home with me. We are waiting for all the paperwork to be completed so we can adopt you ... if you still want to be adopted into our family." I didn't want to go into too much detail; it would be too traumatic I thought.
Kathy turned to Julie and asked, "Julie, is she a good mom?"
Julie looked as startled as I felt. That was the most mature and humorous thing she said. We both laughed and Julie said, "No, she's awfully mean." She noticed Kathy's fearful expression and a slight movement away from me and added, "Kathy, I'm just joking. Rebecca, Mom, is the best mother in the whole entire world. She even adopted me and continued loving me even when I was a complete pain in the ass. Kathy, please smile again like you smiled when you asked the question."
Kathy did smile and asked, "Is there a father in the house? I've never had a father—ever, I think. At least I can't remember one."
"Yes, and he's almost as good a dad as Mom is a mother. In fact, he brought me here to St. Louis, to Mom's house. He says I'm the reason he got married to Rebecca, so he could be my dad. But he's full of shit—all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't keep him away from Rebecca."
Kathy smiled even wider, "Do we have a king in this country? Do you know the king?"
"Yes, they have a king ... and I'm it." The detective that brought Joe Carroll to the hospital strolled into the room, looking and acting like a boy in a high school play. He was tall, skinny, looked to be in his thirties, and obviously had a good sense of humor. Julie giggled, "You don't look like a king."
The policeman pretended to be hurt and mumbled, "Oh shucks, I'm not. I'm only a poor detective named Dave Lawson." He quickly turned serious and said, "Hi. Rebecca, we did get some blood from that scoundrel last night. How are you and how is the patient?"
Earlier, I might have told him I was afraid I'd have another big challenge of being a care-taker to a very ill teenager. The last hour made me feel lighter and more hopeful. "I'm feeling very well, sir, and I think our patient is even feeling better. Right, Kathy?"
"Yeah, I guess." She was back to her little girl voice. "I'm still confused about me and who I am and why I'm in the hospital and, well, just about everything."
Dave Lawson looked disappointed. "I'm sorry to hear that. I was hoping to hear more about what exactly happened with Joe Carroll. Right now, we're holding him on assault and battery, but if it was an accident, well ... "
Julie jumped in, "It was not an accident. I know that for sure." Dave encouraged her to go on. "I saw who I thought was Jack Carroll come around the garage and I thought he had gone crazy because Jack is one of the gentlest men I've ever seen in my life. I was ahead of Kathy and just reached the door when I heard her yell, 'Let go of me, you bastard.' Then he said, 'Aw, be my loving daughter, my sweet girl.' Of course, I thought Jack had gone completely off his rocker. Then Kathy yelled, 'Get away from me, goddammit
, I'll never think of you as my dad. You are evil. Go away.' Then she pushed at him and he hit her real hard—hard enough to knock her down—and I ran in the house to get help. For some damn reason, I still thought it was Jack. I looked back and Joe was hunched over Kathy. I didn't know what he would do and that's when Mom and Plato, that's our dog, ran out and Plato attacked him."
"I thought Joe was going to kill me." All three of us looked at Kathy with total surprise. Dave cranked his hand in a 'keep talking' motion. "Of course, I was falling and falling. It seemed forever. That's all I can remember and I woke up with these two wonderful people here."
I threw my arms around Kathy and for a moment forgot her injury and all. "You're remembering?"
"Sort of, kind of, I guess. Now, I can't think of why that man thought he was my dad. I've never had a dad." She was back to looking totally bewildered.
Dave asked, "So, Kathy, you clearly remember what you just told us, is that right?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'm changing my charge to attempted murder; that way we can hold him without bail.
I was just interested in her ability to recall the event clearly. She began to recall her outing with Julie, the film they saw, along with the cute boys they encountered. I breathed a sigh of relief and Julie did too. I stayed another hour and encouraged Kathy to talk. Julie was willing to stay and the nursing staff was encouraging, too. They even brought in a bed with rollers.
The next morning I returned and Kathy and Julie were chatting like the teenagers they were. One possibly positive outcome of the attack was that Kathy remembered her mother and her death like it was years ago and only a few vague memories of Father Joe Carroll. I hope the memory stayed that way.
Jack and J.J. came into the room to visit Kathy. The poor girl shrank back into her bed and screamed, "Get him away from me. Get him away." And she started bawling.
Jack did leave the room and J.J. helped us talk her back down. We thought it best for Jack to come back into Kathy's life a little later. The doctor said we could take her home and I was sure that our work was not over.
Chapter 30
JERRY
I had just shared some of Wayne's ideas on quantum theology with our core team. I ended by asking the members if they thought the ideas around the Field of Compassion would be good to share with the guards and inmates.
J.J. said, "I think we've already introduced the ideas when we talked about taming our elephants, modifying our scripts, and becoming our true selves. I'm a bit afraid that if we say that what Christians call 'grace' has been present since the Big Bang, it will seem to be challenging the theology some have been taught in their churches and then we'd have to defend the ideas. That would be a waste of time."
Dan McGuire was waiting for the prison chaplains with us and he exclaimed, "I agree with J.J.; it would come across as too religious. I personally like it. It makes Jesus seem more relevant as the announcer and exemplar of God's always-available love or grace. I was going to suggest that you'd try it out with the chaplains, but then changed my mind. It would be too controversial and at least two of them would complain to the governor or someone else. As J.J. mentioned, it would all be a waste of time."
Sonia said, "I like it a lot, especially the idea that Jesus's main work was to introduce us to the idea that we are all born with the ability to live in grace by being loving, just and peaceful people. And I agree with J.J. that, in a way, we've already covered the concept."
Again, I was impressed with all of their remarks and their thoughtfulness. "Thanks. I think we can use it ourselves but need to avoid any kind of religious controversy. We need their input and their help, but not if we have to sacrifice our principles of humane treatment of the inmates. So we'll see."
A guard knocked on the conference room door and Dan opened the door and ushered in five men and one woman minister. Two of the men had been ministers to the inmates for several years and the other four were quite new and part-time at the prison. Tom Overton, a United Methodist and veteran Booneville chaplain, led the group in and shook hands and then welcomed J.J. and Sonia, then me, Jack and Dan. The other full-time minister, David Shields, a Lutheran, followed Overton, and introduced the remaining new and part-time chaplains: Shirley Pressley, the Unitarian; Aiden Crouch, a rabbi; Father Jim Kennedy, the youngest of the group; and Reverend Avery Winston, the only one who insisted on being addressed as 'Reverend', a non-denominational Evangelical minister. Of course, we all stood and shook hands and welcomed them.
I gave a brief outline of our program and I introduced Dan McGuire whom I had asked to explain what we hoped to accomplish with the program. Dan had barely begun when the Reverend Avery Winston interrupted him and asked, "What are these two women doing here?" He sneered at J.J. and Sonia.
I said rather loudly, "They are here as key members of our team and representing half the world's population who happen to be female and with whom all of us relate." His question and tone of voice pissed me off and I'm sure it showed in my voice.
"They have been very helpful to us, as team members, and if you get an opportunity to meet some of the inmates, I believe you will find they, too, find them helpful." I felt like I was lecturing a rather dull parent at a PTA meeting. Winston snorted and I said, "So, Dan, please continue."
Dan outlined our progress so far and our goals for the prison. When he finished Avery Winston asked, "Mr. McGuire and Mr. Haloran, I didn't hear a single word about how you bring God into your endeavor. Now are these men you are currently working with expected to be attending services, and how many have accepted Jesus as their personal savior?"
Jack and J.J. rolled their eyes and Sonia slightly shook her head. Rabbi Shields said, "I have regular Sabbath services and I have only a very small group who attend. I have gained two new members since these folks have been working with us and my two new ones say that the program has given them hope."
Winston sounded dismissive of the rabbi's words, as he asked us, "Do you inform all the inmates that they must accept the Word of God as it is written in the Holy Bible and to accept Jesus Christ as their personal savior, if they wish to enter the kingdom of heaven? And, perhaps it is important to ask all of you if you believe this?" He looked around the circle and stopped at me.
"I think of myself as a Christian but I would not say I believe in Christ in the same way you do, Avery. And I definitely believe that Rabbi Crouch will be welcome in heaven, as are all Jews and other devoutly loving people."
"It is REVEREND Winston, Mr. Haloran. Only my wife and closest friends call me Avery. And how can you state that you are a Christian if you do not believe that Jesus is your personal savior?"
J.J. felt the need to come to my rescue, or simply to challenge this arrogant bigot. "Reverend Winston, I want you to know that none of us talk about Jesus and the Christ in the way that you do. But I am now forty-two years old and I have worked in many places and with many different people since I was fifteen years old, and I have never worked with so loving and hopeful and compassionate people in my life as this group right here in front of you. Jerry Haloran ..." she motioned toward me, "is the most Christian person I have ever met, as is Jack Carroll, Sonia Torres, and Dan McGuire. And I firmly believe in John's letter in the New Testament that states, 'God is love and he who lives in love, lives in God and God in him.' The only thing I would have liked John to have said would be, 'they who live in God.' So Reverend Winston, I believe we have a very loving team."
Father Jim Kennedy, Rabbi Crouch, Tom Overton, and Shirley Pressley clapped vigorously for J.J. and the four of us joined them. Winston was not ready to give up so easily, and so he asked, "Well, do you insist that they attend services each week?"
Dan took this one, "That is not our duty, Reverend. Our goal is to help these men realize their potential as persons in this world. We wish for them to become compassionate and worthwhile people who can live happy and full lives, and I would be the last person in the world who would tell a Jewish fellow that he must accept
Jesus as his personal savior." The rabbi nodded in appreciation.
"And you believe you will be able to do this without the help of Almighty God (Gawd, as he pronounced it.)—Christian or Jew?"
Sonia answered, "God is not limited to those who attend religious services. God is in our world, and in our very being. We cannot breathe, talk, think, walk, or do anything without God. God is not limited to church and God is with us right now in this room. And I agree with J.J. that this group is one of the most hopeful and loving groups of people I've had the good fortune to work with. Now does that answer your question, Reverend Winston?"
Again, everyone except Winston and Shields, the Lutheran, applauded. I felt so proud of my team. I never heard a group of priests speak so easily about the union of spirituality and life as did my team members.
Winston was not so impressed as he said, "Well, folks, I cannot say that it has been a pleasure, nor can I see your efforts succeeding without God. I cannot see how I can be of help to your godless plans. Good-day."
Before Avery reached the door, Jack shouted, "Reverend, I honestly think your god is too small."
After the door slammed shut, all but Shields applauded.
The Lutheran minister addressed the group, "Although I disagree with the doctrinaire way that Reverend Winston presents his views, I agree with some of his ideas. I believe if the inmates here had been raised in loving and devout Christian homes, they probably would not be in prison at this time. And I like the way you, J.J. and Sonia, present the spirit of your team. If you are successful, I agree God will be with you. I have been a chaplain here in Booneville for eight years, and I do see a need for more love and hope for these wretched fellows." Four of those present and I winced at the word, 'wretched'.