The Requiem Mass a few days later was one Joe would never forget – for the utter grief that pervaded the whole packed Cathedral. As one of the concelebrants, he witnessed almost devastation in the faces of Chelsea’s parents, bewilderment in those of her siblings and deep sadness in the faces of relatives and friends. The Bishop, as main celebrant, spoke of the tragedy of the circumstances but hope in a hopeless situation. The Principal broke down when reminding all present of the happy young girl she had had the privilege to know and teach. A family friend traced her young life in all its successes and happiness until the recent tragedy. Joe knew that all these people facing him from the body of the Cathedral felt sadness to some extent – sadness for the life of such a beautiful young person cut short so tragically.
But he could not even imagine the extent of the grief Chelsea’s parents were experiencing.
Mechanically he joined in the liturgy but his mind kept returning to the horror, the utter despair and pain of this young girl to drive her to this.
At the conclusion of the liturgy, the coffin was carried from the Church, flanked by rows of students, and Chelsea taken to her final resting place.
Yes, Chelsea is at peace now, thought Joe. But even when the truth comes out – and the truth will come out, he assured himself – there will always be a hole in the lives of her parents.
That night after dinner while working in his room, the phone rang. He recognized the voice immediately. “Naomi! How are you?”
“Sorry to call you Joe. I needed to talk to someone and you came to mind.”
“Where are you Naomi? I’ll meet you.”
“No. No. No. I don’t want to pull you out. Just – I don’t know – talk to someone who understands.”
“Of course,” Joe responded quickly.
“It’s Chelsea, of course. Like everyone else, I can’t believe that this had really happened. And I keep asking myself – could I have stopped it happening?”
“No, Naomi!” Joe broke in. “There was no way anyone could have seen this coming – and that could have only happened if Chelsea had said or done anything in advance to show her intentions. And it could have been a split decision.”
“I know Joe. I keep telling myself that. But the thought persists. Sorry to worry you. Perhaps I needed to hear you tell me that. Anyway – I won’t hold you up any longer.”
“Hold on!” Joe came in quickly. “You need a good sleep. Do you have any sleeping pills?”
“No. I don’t need them Joe. I just want to do something – anything for Chelsea. No one can bring her back. But something – I don’t know what – needs to be done.”
“I agree. And I feel the same way. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Thanks Joe. I’m okay.”
“In that case, you need a good sleep. If no sleeping pills, than a hot drink and into bed.”
“Yes Dr. Joe,” she answered wanly.
“Oh, before you go,” Joe added. “Can you meet me for coffee late tomorrow – same time, same place. We may be able to exchange ideas – for Chelsea’s sake.”
“Thanks Joe. I’d like to.” She rang off.
Joe’s first question to her the next day when they met at the coffee shop was, “Did you sleep last night?”
“Not too badly,” she lied.
Coffee served, Joe confided immediately, “I’ve made an appointment with the Bishop for tomorrow. I have a niggling feeling he knows more than he’s saying.”
Naomi looked up quickly. “About Chelsea?”
“Yes. But, just between you and me, it’s a gut feeling. Something happened to Chelsea fairly recently – that’s for sure. From early encounters with the family I don’t think it was in the family. So, that leaves outside influences. And, at her age and in her circumstances, there are not many.”
“The school, the main one!” Naomi broke in. Then she continued, “I saw Chelsea only briefly over that weekend. All groups came together for meals and the major activities. We were given the same pupils for small group activities and Chelsea wasn’t in mine. Actually, I’m not sure whose group she was in or in which groups she interacted. And there were free times.”
Joe nodded. “I want to talk to the Bishop. He may know something – even subconsciously.” He paused before asking, “How are things at school?”
“Pretty grim,” she replied. “But – it will take time – possibly longer than we expect.”