Once that was done, he rang Danny Clarkson. Danny had his own scaffolding business, and he owed Father Gabriel a massive favour. Gabriel had called in a little bit of it by asking Danny to lend him some scaffolding for a week. Danny had not been keen but he had eventually cracked and sent a couple of guys over who got the scaffolding erected by midday. Now Emilio could get started on his end of the bargain.
Then Gabriel sat down and wrote letters to a half-dozen boys from the parish who were currently over in Horizon Juvenile Center. While he couldn’t admit it to himself, he was giving what he thought might be his final words of encouragement. He knew that, for some of them, he had been the only steady influence in their lives, and that him being gone would not be good.
He then visited a few of the older parishioners, all but jogging between visits. That took him up to the time the kids got out of school and training began. He made sure to work his way around the room, checking in on everybody in each session. He pulled Darrell Wilkes aside and had that chat about school and what was going on at home. It was what he expected – Darrell’s mom had a new boyfriend, and they were not getting along. They talked it all through, Gabriel giving the kid the chance to vent, and then decided that Darrell would come to the church a couple more evenings a week to get his homework done. Early on, one of the moments of breakthrough for Gabriel had been the realisation that nobody actually listened to most of these kids. Problems left unaired would fester until eventually the kid became the problem, and then it was almost always too late to separate the two. Gabriel may not have been the most natural of talkers, but listening was only about listening.
Having done his rounds, he treated himself to thirty minutes working with Bianca. The girl didn’t need encouragement so much as she needed restraint. Having seen real success, she was understandably ravenous for more. It was his job to pump the brakes – remind her that everything would happen in time and that more training wasn’t the answer. She had a long career ahead of her and it could take her to a lot of amazing places, but she had to be smart. She nodded and smiled and appeared to listen, but even as he spoke, Gabriel knew that the words were bouncing off that force field that only youth and true passion could create. It was like young love, in its way. Still, that was another lesson he’d learned: even if the words didn’t sink in at the time you said them, they would still be there, floating around. When the right time came, all you could hope for was that they’d land and make a difference.
After that, Gabriel stepped outside into another bitterly cold day and surreptitiously slipped around the corner for another meeting. Emilio stood looking up at the scaffolding, looking more emotional than any man should at the sight of rusted metal and dilapidated brickwork. Trey stood grinning beside him, enjoying his friend’s excitement.
Father Gabriel put his arm around Emilio’s shoulders and looked up at the scaffolding with him. “So, Michelangelo, are we good?”
“This. Is. A… A… Awesome!”
Gabriel grinned. “What it is, is thirty feet of canvas for you to express your talent on. You earned it.” Gabriel turned to Trey. “Did they do it like I asked?”
Trey nodded and stepped over to release the rope. A thick white sheet came down, concealing the scaffolding and the wall behind it. “They sure did.”
“Excellent,” said Gabriel. “You two work behind that, and remember, if anyone asks, it’s getting treated for damp and you’re painting it for me.”
Both boys nodded.
“Rosario has agreed that you can leave the ladder and your other stuff in that big cupboard down at the back of the church – and in the name of all the saints in heaven, do not let a drop of anything hit the church floor on your way through or else that woman will have all three of us hanged, drawn and quartered.”
Both boys nodded again.
“Well then,” said Gabriel, pushing Emilio gently forward, “get going!”
Emilio took a few steps and went back to gawping.
Trey moved to join him, but Gabriel stepped forward and lowered his voice. “Not so fast, young man – you and I need to have a discussion.”
Trey’s face fell. “OK, before you say anything—”
“Oh no,” interrupted Gabriel, “before you start with excuses, let’s get our facts right, shall we? You got into a fight in school?”
“It wasn’t much of a fight.”
“Trey!”
“He started it.”
“Oh, come on now, son – you’re a man of words. You telling me you couldn’t find some for this situation?”
Trey looked down, his chin tucked into his chest. “He’s some rich asshole. He was mouthing off.”
“And what do we say?” Gabriel moved closer and picked Trey’s chin up, forcing him to look at him. “We are not defined by how others see us. We are defined by how we choose to see ourselves.”
Trey nodded.
“Now, how’s everything at home?”
Trey shrugged. “It’s… y’know.”
Gabriel did. Pocket had been one of his earliest members at the gym. He and Trey had been inseparable, the younger brother following the elder like his shadow. Good kids. Then when their mother had passed, Pocket had gone from older sibling to de facto parent and things had changed. Technically, they were in the care of an aunt, but the reality was that it was just them. Pocket had taken command of the situation. They didn’t get visits from Family Services anymore, because Pocket had seen to it. Of the many who had either fallen by the wayside or simply fallen, Pocket had been one of the hardest for Gabriel to take. He had tried to talk to him, and still he went over it again and again, wondering if there was something he could have said or done to make it different. The equation, as Pocket had seen it, was simple. There was a lot of evil in these streets and the only way he could make sure Trey got out was to control the evil. And so Pocket gave himself to the gang life on the understanding that Trey would remain untouched. He had been a young man consumed with anger at his mother’s passing and love for the little brother she had left in his care, and Gabriel hadn’t been able to show him any other options. He knew what Pocket had become, and it broke his heart. Few would understand it as Gabriel did. If the mother had lived, if there had been enough support – if, if, if – the boy could well be heading to college now. He certainly had the brains for it. Instead he was a gangbanger with the dead eyes of a man who has taken life. Father Gabriel knew better than anyone how human lives were products of circumstance. All that separated Pocket from any of the kids sitting in a classroom at NYU was the hand dealt and cruel chance.
Still, despite all of that, they had worked together when Trey’s opportunity to gain a scholarship to Waldorf had come up. The boy had talent; the piece he had written describing his mother’s last days had brought tears to his eyes when he’d first read it. It wasn’t that he used flowery language – it was the raw simplicity of it that cut to the quick. A teacher had submitted it without asking and it had blown away the committee. Then there had been paperwork to complete, which Gabriel had readily agreed to help Pocket with. He had tried to use it as a chance to reach the good kid still inside, but the angry young man had shut that down fast. The love he held for his brother was all that remained of the goofy kid with the quick wit that Gabriel had first met.
“Has Pocket been home much?” asked Gabriel.
He knew the look in Trey’s eyes all too well. He’d rather die than give the slightest hint of betrayal of his brother. “Yeah, he’s been around. He got Mrs Barnes across the hall making dinners for us and taking care of the apartment. It’s as clean as it was when mom was…”
He didn’t finish.
“Father Gabriel?” the shout came from Rosario at the back door.
“I’ll be with you in a second, Rosario,” he replied, before turning back to Trey. “What are you up to tonight?”
“B is coming over. I’m helping her with… something.”
Gabriel smiled. “Well, our champion can try to do her own
homework for a little while. You can drop over to see me at, say, eight o’clock?”
Trey started to object. “Well, I don’t…”
“Eight o’clock, Trey, no excuses.”
Trey nodded.
“Father Gabriel!” came the holler from Rosario again.
“I’m in trouble,” he said with a smile. “Now, you go help Emilio with his masterpiece.”
Trey nodded.
“Father—” Rosario stopped mid-holler when she saw him walk around the corner. “There you are.”
“Y’know, Rosario, you could come looking for me rather than shouting.”
“I’m a busy woman and you got a guest.”
Gabriel stopped walking. “What?”
“Yeah. There’s a man outside, and he refuses to leave until he sees you.”
“Oh.”
It wasn’t that he wasn’t expecting it; he’d just hoped he’d have more time.
Chapter Twenty
“Oh,” said Father Gabriel, letting out the breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding. “It’s you.”
Bunny looked up from his seat on the church’s stone steps. “’Tis indeed. Why? Were you expecting somebody else?”
Father Gabriel stepped out of the church’s main doors. “I thought we were finished with…” He stopped talking and reflexively put his hand up to his nose. “What is that smell?”
Bunny shifted. “Sorry. I ended up going for an inadvertent dip in a dumpster last night and the coat hasn’t quite recovered. I gave it a wash in the sink, but that wasn’t cutting it, so I went to town with a shitload of air freshener. I might just have overdone it.”
Father Gabriel nodded. “Yes. I think it is safe to say you did.”
Bunny looked up at the sky. “Don’t worry. They say it’ll rain later – I’m sure that’ll take the sting out of it.”
“We have some clothes from Goodwill inside. You’re welcome to see if you could find a replacement.”
“No,” said Bunny firmly, “this is my coat.”
“As you wish. Which does rather bring us to the question of what you and your coat are doing here?”
Bunny nodded. “Good news. I’ve come to help you with your problem.”
“What problem?” asked Father Gabriel.
“I’m not exactly sure, but it involved you getting a free ride on the not-so-fun bus yesterday.”
Father Gabriel glanced around. “That has been taken care of.”
“All due respect, Padre, no it hasn’t. I saw your face. You were relieved to see me – that’s never a good sign.”
Father Gabriel looked around. “Where are your two friends? Have they got better at hiding?”
Bunny shook his head. “Nah, their work here is done.”
Bunny had insisted on giving them the remainder of the money he had “acquired” earlier in the week, despite their protestations. He hoped it would be about enough to get Diller a new bike and Smithy’s taxi looking like it hadn’t just lost a fight with one of those Transformers that somebody kept insisting on making films about.
“The two lads did the job I asked of them. They followed you and got me to the sisters. Admittedly, the route from A to B wasn’t quite what I had envisioned, but, y’know, sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander. All worked out fine in the end.”
“I am glad. So, I am of no further use to you and you do not need my help.”
“I’m afraid ’tis not that simple, Padre. You see, Sister Dorothy has instructed me to prove my worth by assisting you with your issue in order to, how to put it, prove I’m not some kind of shite-sipping gobshite.”
Father Gabriel wrinkled his nose. “I am going to guess she didn’t put it in quite those terms.”
“I’m paraphrasing,” admitted Bunny.
“And… wait. You left the sisters when I did yesterday. When did this conversation occur?”
Bunny could feel his face redden. “Well, let’s just say I dropped back in for a visit.”
It was Father Gabriel’s turn to shake his head. “You seem to make rather terrible decisions, Mr McGarry.”
“Yeah. To be honest with you, I’m not on a great run of form in that regard. But I mean well.”
“I’m sure you do. Still, I do not require any assistance.”
“I thought you’d say that,” said Bunny.
“And yet you came anyway?”
“I did.” He kicked the duffle bag that sat at his feet. “And what’s more, I’m not leaving.”
Father Gabriel descended the steps to look Bunny straight in the eye – as much as such a thing was possible with a man who could not look himself in the eye in the mirror. This also had the advantage of getting him upwind of the Irishman, which meant his nostrils felt less like they were going to shut down in protest at the olfactory assault. “Listen to me: I do not need your help.”
“You did yesterday.”
“I would have handled the situation in my own way.”
Bunny gave him a funny look. “I’m sure you would have done too. I mean, assuming the two armed men holding you captive hadn’t – what was it? Oh yeah, banged their heads and knocked themselves unconscious when the truck stopped suddenly.”
Father Gabriel looked around. The very last thing he needed was somebody overhearing this conversation and asking questions. “What exactly is your intention here?” He nodded at the duffle bag. “Are you intending to move in?”
“As I see it,” said Bunny, “some bad people are after you. It seems unlikely they will restrain themselves to trying to grab you between the hours of nine and five so, with all due respect to the wonder that is Dolly Parton, I’m not working those hours. Consider me your twenty-four-hour security detail for the foreseeable.”
“Absolutely not.”
“I won’t need to follow you into the shitter or anything. We can have boundaries.”
Father Gabriel stood up. “If you come within ten feet of me, I’m calling the police.”
“As Bobby Brown once sang, that’s your prerogative. I’ll just tell them I’m concerned about the nefarious characters trying to kidnap you and you can explain the rest.”
Father Gabriel took a couple of deep breaths. “Has anyone ever told you you’re intensely annoying?”
“D’ye know, it’s never come up before.”
Father Gabriel stomped back up the steps. “The answer is no. You are not coming in.”
“Fair enough,” said Bunny, stretching himself out on the steps, his head resting on his duffle bag. “I’ll be right here.”
Father Gabriel stopped and looked down. “You can’t stay there. It will be bitterly cold tonight. There is talk of some kind of winter vortex hitting us.”
It had been on the news. He hadn’t seen it, but Rosario had made a point of recounting it to him and they had started making plans to check up on vulnerable parishioners if it was as bad as predicted.
“Don’t worry about me, Padre, I’ve got a nice flask of soup. I’ll be grand.”
Father Gabriel gave him one last long look before turning away. “Fine. Have it your way.”
“Tremendous.”
Father Gabriel slammed the door behind him, which earned him an admonishing look from Mrs Wu, who liked to drop in to pray at this time of day.
One hour later.
Rosario had been leaving for the day, but she came back in to find Gabriel. “Father – that man is still outside on the steps.”
“Yes,” he said, not looking up from doing a very bad job of trying to balance the church’s chequebook, “I am aware.”
“But,” said Rosario, “he says he is waiting to talk to you.”
“I understand. I am dealing with the situation.”
“OK, only…”
Gabriel looked up. “What?”
“You’re not though, are you? He’s sitting out there in the cold and you’re balancing the chequebook.”
“It is a very complicated situation.”
“It doesn’t s
eem that—”
“Thank you, Rosario. Have a good night.”
Two hours later.
Father Gabriel tried to peek out the front door without being seen.
“Howerya, Padre.”
He opened the door fully. The street was dark now but still busy with foot traffic.
“Do you have nowhere else to go?”
“I wouldn’t say that so much as I have nowhere else I’m willing to be.”
“I already told you, I don’t need your help.”
Bunny nodded. “You did. And I told you that you were going to get it anyway.”
“The answer is no.”
“There wasn’t a question there.”
Two more hours later.
Trey had been and gone. Gabriel had talked to him about the importance of maintaining focus. Ultimately, Pocket’s choices were Pocket’s choices, and while Trey might want to help him, first and foremost Pocket had to help himself. Though Trey hated to hear it, he had God-given talents, and if he wanted to make the world a better place, he owed it to himself to take the opportunities he had been given. The kid had mostly stayed silent and nodded through the talk. Then, with tears in his eyes, he had spoken of his mother, and it had been Gabriel’s turn to shut up and listen. There was nothing new in the conversation, but its purpose was not the imparting of new information – the idea was to re-bandage wounds and reinforce resolve.
Speaking of resolve, Trey had asked about the man lying on the steps outside too. Gabriel had told him to ignore him. The truth was, Gabriel was failing to do that himself. He stared up at the ceiling of his office, looking for divine inspiration in the damp patches. He checked the weather app on his phone. It was only getting colder. He reluctantly stood up and walked through the church. Mr Noon nodded at him as he passed.
“Oh, Father, there’s a man outside who says—”
“Yes,” said Gabriel, with a tight smile, “I’m aware of it.”
I Have Sinned Page 13