He paused to select the right phrasing.
“…entertaining men. Yes, that’s it, she entertains men. We was poor, rat poor, trash shed poor. Ma did anything she could to keep us alive. I owe her my life.”
“We can’t replace your mother here, but we can give you all the opportunity you want. Charles, your file says that you lived alone for two years. Tell me about it. What did you do?”
“I lived on my own, did what I wanted, provided for myself. I played my guitar every night. And the Lord provided for me just like he provides for the hungry birds and animals.”
“You’re talking about burglary aren’t you?”
“God had just provided me a pistol when they arrested me this last time.”
“We can help you here, Charles. That’s why charitable organizations like Boys Town exist.” There was a subdued pride in the priest’s voice.
Charlie nodded.
“Charity is good,” Charlie agreed. There should be more charity for people who need it. I remember there were nights in Indy when I went to bed hungry. I would have taken food anywhere I could get. God must be pretty proud of Boys Town for taking care of so many needy kids,” Charlie said.
“Providing for the underprivileged is a fundamental principle of Christianity.”
“It bugs me to think of all the starving kids I’ve seen. I wish people could do more to help. Don’t you?” Charlie asked.
“People should do everything they can to help. It’s the Christian thing to do,” Gallagher answered confidently.
“Okay. Listen to this,” Charlie said, suddenly energetic. “I’ve got an idea how to help a lot of kids with no expense.”
Gallagher was encouraged. “Let’s hear it.”
“Here it is. What would be wrong with some of the nuns selling a little pussy to the townspeople to save starving kids? Poor kids get to eat. Townspeople get happy. You can’t lose.”
Charlie’s idea jolted Gallagher like an electric bolt. This strange boy, who had enchanted the gym, also had the capacity to provoke and shock.
“You’re way out of line, Charles.”
“So what’s wrong with it?” Charlie asked.
“It’s immoral.”
“Immoral? Are you kidding? Which is more immoral, letting a kid starve to death or selling a little pussy to keep him alive? I’d really like to know.”
“The latter is more immoral,” Gallagher responded. “A death by starvation is a natural death.”
“Sex is natural too, father. People do it all the time. How can you say my mother, a poor woman, was immoral in doing whatever she could to keep me alive? Is that what you’re saying? I don’t agree with you. Life is a good thing. She sacrificed for me.”
“You’re being disrespectful of established standards of morality and conduct.”
“Yeah? What about you, Father? You’re not being disrespectful? I guess you weren’t serious when you said we should do all we can to feed starving kids. Suddenly you want to let kids die rather than do something ‘immoral.’ You’re pretty mixed up on right and wrong, I’d say. Can’t make up your mind. I’m not being disrespectful. I’m being truthful in a place where truth should be important.”
For the moment, Gallagher sputtered.
Charlie thoughts were provocative and philosophical questions for which the priest was not prepared. The insistence in Charlie’s voice was unnerving. Gallagher’s most-hidden doubts rushed forward. He pushed them back, fighting to keep this dead-end boy from undermining his beliefs.
To the priest’s annoyance, Charlie shrugged.
“I can see you’re upset with me, Father.” Charlie’s tone was conciliatory.
“I just thought maybe you, Father, of all people, would understand how looking at things differently might help. I was wrong, I guess. Things aren’t always what they appear, are they Father?”
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t really want to play my cards, Father. I know you have vows and all which probably makes life pretty tough for you, I mean with the ladies and all. I see you as a normal guy. Well, you know, it wouldn’t be the first time a priest wanted to lift his robe and lower his starched boxer shorts for a nun.”
There it was—an accusation that Charlie didn’t quite throw in Gallagher’s face, but rather let it escape into the conversation. As proof, Charlie made an expression with his eyebrows and grinned in a special way. It was the same private look Gallagher reserved for Sister Klara, the one Charlie had seen in the dining hall.
Gallagher was stunned speechless.
How does he know? What evil power does he possess?
And with Charlie’s penetrating gaze, it was easy to believe he could discover tightly held secrets. Gallagher looked away and made a show of shuffling papers on the table.
“Wow. You should see your face right now, Father. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody about your little girlfriend.”
My God. What does he know?
Panic surged through the priest.
“Priests,” Charlie continued, “are just the way priests are. That’s why I don’t like organized religion and the dishonesty of it. But I like you, Father. We can go on surviving in our own ways, kissing the asses and rings we need to. I’m okay with that.”
What does he want from me?
“Tell me about Link,” Gallagher suddenly demanded.
“What about Link?” Charlie asked.
“Did you have anything to do with this sudden change in him?”
“Me? Nah, I just encouraged him to live a better life,” Charlie said. “If he has changed, he’s doing it on his own. He’s a nice young man.”
“What about those red marks on his throat?” Gallagher asked. “Know anything about those?”
“Maybe Link got lucky last night. I love it when a girl gets hot and crazy. Didn’t you ever get lucky, Father?”
This is out of hand. End this. Now.
Father Gallagher knew intuitively that Charles Manson was different, but this encounter was outside his realm of experience.
“You are dismissed, Charles. I need time to consider the things you’ve said. We’ll talk again soon.”
“Sure, Father. I look forward to it.”
Charlie left the conference room. He stopped by Sister Agatha’s office to chat. As he turned toward the door, he gave her a wink and warm smile that made her blush.
When he was gone, she lost herself thinking of boys and emotions that hadn’t come to mind since her school days. She blushed again.
Behind her, the office tea kettle whistled punitively, ending her pleasant daydream.
Chapter 26
The Apology - Boys Town, April 1949
Charlie returned to the dormitory room after ten o’clock to find Jake in bed with a trash can and a wet towel, still nursing a hangover.
“Christ, Jake. Get up!” Charlie said. “This is a pattern. Every time I’m ready to go out, I have to roust you out of the sack. Trust me, man, you’re way too ugly to make a living in bed.” Charlie laughed at his own joke.
“Fuck you, Charlie,” Jake said, managing a small grin. “You’re the one who got me drunk. Where have you been anyway? I woke up to puke at one o’clock and you were gone. Same thing at daylight. So, where were you?”
“Let’s just say I was involved with helping a sinner find a new way of life,” Charlie said.
“You couldn’t have had much sleep,” Jake said. He took a risk and stood upright.
“I got about three hours sleep. That’s all I ever need and I’m ready for action. Hell, I’m usually up and out even before God wakes up. What are we doing today?” Charlie asked.
“I have a class at the barn at eleven.”
“Great. I’m ready. What kind of class?”
“Food preparation. We’ve got to wait for Hiram. He’s changing a radiator hose at the shop. He’ll be back any minute to go with us. Right now, I gotta pee.”
From across the room, Diablo watched as Jake passed on his wa
y to the restroom. With a pounce and a swipe, the cat sank claws into Jake’s ankle, drawing blood.
“Ow, Ow! Diablo! You rotten bastard!” Jake jumped backward, first grabbing his ankle, then his splitting head. “We tried to let him out earlier, Charlie, but he wouldn’t let us near him. He spit on Hiram! You ever seen a cat spit on someone?”
Charlie calmly picked up the cat and sat him on the window sill to jump into the shrubs.
When Hiram arrived, the three boys left for the barn. They crossed the wide lawn in their Levis and t-shirts with canvas coats indistinguishable from the other boys.
Hiram was entertaining Charlie with stories of his trucks when Jake suddenly sounded a warning.
“Look out! Link is coming.”
From a half-block away they saw Link in their path staring at them.
Charlie saw Jake’s fear and chuckled.
“I wouldn’t worry about Link,” Charlie said. “I think you’ve had him figured all wrong. Give him a chance. He’s an alright guy.”
Hiram too was concerned. “Don’t do anything crazy, Charlie. That guy is as mean as they come.”
Link studied the three boys ahead. Charlie motioned for him to come. Link instinctively recoiled and looked for refuge. Too late. There was no place to escape.
Link suddenly felt as if he were back home, back with his old man, ready to take a beating. The brute power that Link felt only yesterday was gone, now replaced by fear.
This is how Dad always wanted me to feel: scared, stupid, like a coward. Change or die. I have no choices.
In that moment, Link knew he could not buck Charlie. If he did, Charlie would return with vengeance. Link was sure of it. Charlie, small as he was, was different than anyone Link had ever met. He cringed and obediently walked to Charlie.
Charlie approached Link, smiling widely. When they stood facing one another, Charlie greeted him with a friendly tone and dangerous eyes.
“Hey, Link. How goes the altar boy training?”
“I’m on my way to see Father Gallagher now.”
“Yeah?” Charlie said. “Tell him I said hello. He’s a good priest. Good luck. Everyone is going to be very proud of you.”
Charlie’s manner conveyed sincerity, and a paternal tone.
Hiram and Jake stood behind Charlie and stared opened-mouthed at Link. As they separated, Link remembered something and turned to address Jake and Hiram.
“Guys, I want to tell you I’m sorry about the guff I’ve given you. I didn’t mean anything bad.” His eyes glanced nervously at Charlie. “I’ll make it up to you, both of you. All the guys. You’ll see.”
Link’s attitude was as Charlie expected. His voice reflected no hint of animosity or insincerity.
Link left on his way to the church.
Hiram and Jake were flabbergasted. Hiram was the first to speak.
“Daaaaamn. How did you do it? How did you do that to Link?”
Charlie was humble.
“Jesus talked with him about taking the proper road to glory.”
“Man, God did one hell of a job on that boy. That guy is a newborn if ever I saw one.”
Jake forgot his headache. All the way to the barn, he and Hiram talked excitedly about the transformation. Charlie walked along smiling, soaking up every word.
Chapter 27
The Archbishop - Boys Town, April 1949
After Charlie left the meeting, Gallagher remained at the high school where he could think in quiet. He was like a physician, who, finding himself unable to comprehend observable symptoms, turns to his training and books. So did Gallagher turn to the scriptures for guidance.
Within minutes the Bible led him to Luke 8:26-33, describing one of Jesus’ experiences with demons. He read the passage twice, the second time aloud:
26 They sailed to the region of the Gerasenes, which is across the lake from Galilee. 27 When Jesus stepped ashore, he was met by a demon-possessed man from the town. For a long time this man had not worn clothes or lived in a house, but had lived in the tombs. 28 When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell at his feet, shouting at the top of his voice, “What do you want with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don’t torture me!” 29 For Jesus had commanded the impure spirit to come out of the man. Many times it had seized him, and though he was chained hand and foot and kept under guard, he had broken his chains and had been driven by the demon into solitary places.
30 Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” “Legion,” he replied, because many demons had gone into him. 31 And they begged Jesus repeatedly not to order them to go into the Abyss. 32 A large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside. The demons begged Jesus to let them go into the pigs, and he gave them permission. 33 When the demons came out of the man, they went into the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and was drowned.
Gallagher nodded grimly.
Demons. God directed me to this scripture.
Was this the answer he sought? Here was a likely explanation for the way Charlie jarred the symmetry and order of the church. This was a way to understand how Link was so quickly subdued by a boy he outweighed by a 150 pounds. Here was a basis for the vile reasoning that emanated from a young boy.
But could it be? How else could he know the things he does? How else could he know about Sister Klara?
Gallagher wrestled with the possibilities and rejected them one by one. Invariably, he returned to demonic possession, each time with more conviction, until finally, he was convinced he understood the crux of the situation.
This boy is possessed by demons and must be helped.
And he knew the Church’s prescribed ritual for evicting demons: the rite of exorcism. Gallagher conjured a vision of the ritual. The idea of an exorcism excited and frightened him. He visualized himself vested in a purple stole, bearing a cross in one hand and sprinkling holy water with the other, making signs of the cross over Charles.
In the name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, I COMMAND you, unclean spirit, to leave this place!
But how could he ever do this on his own?
I am unworthy to perform such holy tasks. I have never experienced these things. I need help, expert help from the exorcist, the mysterious priest from St. Louis. The archbishop must arrange this. I will appeal to his excellency again.
And now Gallagher felt strong and in charge. His doubts eased—doubts that maybe he should have gone to law school or become a banker and joined the others who filled the Lions Club and Jaycee Clubs and ran little league teams for their own children.
Outside the conference room, Sister Agatha was well into her Saturday duties. The phone rang. She pushed her crossword puzzle aside, and answered.
“Yes, Archbishop. Good morning to you too. I’m doing fine, thank you. Yes, Excellency, he’s here. I’ll get him for you right away.”
She left the little office and hobbled to the conference room door and, owing to the urgency in the archbishop’s voice, opened the door without knocking. Father Gallagher sat at the long table head in hands, in deep thought.
“Archbishop Wisnoski is on the phone for you,” she announced.
Gallagher looked up at her narrowly. He replied curtly. “Thank you, Sister Agatha. I’ll take the call here. Please close the door.”
She left, closing the door behind her.
Gallagher straightened his collar before picking up the phone.
“Good morning, Excellency,” he said, still rallying himself.
“And to you also, Sean. I hope you’re feeling better about things today.”
“I am as well as can be expected, Excellency. Thank you.”
“You know, Sean, I’ve been thinking about our conversations yesterday. Are there any new developments?”
“Actually, yes, Excellency. There are strange goings on here.”
“Tell me,” the archbishop said with interest.
“Last night I observed our new boy, Charles Manson, playing the guitar and singing at the gym. He was
very good. Almost too good, I’d say. He captivated everyone in the room with his charm and musical skill. You’ve seen our gym during evening retreat. Last night, Charles Manson ruled over the uncontrollable.”
“I take it he is an amazing musician?”
“He can perform far beyond his years,” Gallagher said.
“Very interesting,” the archbishop said.
“There’s more, Excellency.”
Gallagher took a deep breath.
“This morning I came across one of our students at the chapel, Link Collins. He has undergone a sudden overnight metamorphosis from bully to devout parishioner. He has asked to become an altar boy. He says he was visited by Satan during the night. He is visibly frightened of something.”
“Are you saying the sudden change is because of the Manson boy?”
“Manson told me only half an hour ago that he ‘encouraged’ Link to live a better life. I think Manson caused this change. I’m not saying it’s a miracle or that Manson is a ‘John the Baptist’ figure, but he is beyond my abilities.”
“Nonsense, Sean. No boy there is beyond your abilities. I realize you are under a lot of stress these days. You have the weight of the entire facility on your shoulders. Perhaps you have misinterpreted the things you have seen.”
“I don’t believe so, Excellency. Frankly, I wouldn’t take issue if young Manson somehow punished Link, if that’s what happened. The Collins boy has been an obnoxious bully since he got here. Manson is different, I detect something sinister about him.”
“Sinister? The new boy sounds like he’d make a good priest. He converted a troublesome boy no one else could,” Wisnoski said.
“I don’t think so, Excellency. There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl. He doesn’t talk like a teenager. He’s not physically big, and he’s not educated, but somehow he grasps mature concepts and big words. His ideas scare me. He can be very charismatic. He knows how to charm. There’s no telling what poisonous ideas he can spread in our school. This morning, he proposed that the church do more to feed hungry children.”
Before He Became a Monster: A Story Charles Manson's Time at Father Flannigan's Boystown Page 15