The phone rang on the other end a couple of times. I was only half expecting an answer. But the final ring cut short, and there it was, a voice I hadn’t heard in ten years.
“Hello...” my sister Janie answered quietly.
“Did you see the news?” was the only response I could muster.
“I... I did...”
...
That morning started like most Saturdays. I awoke early to the subtle buzzing of the neighbour's lawnmower. It was summertime; the smell of the grass and the heat of the summer sun seeped through my bedroom window. After rolling out of bed and rubbing my tired eyes, I stopped for a second and gazed at my sunburnt, unshaven reflection in the bathroom mirror and thought, “How did I get here?” I had little time to ponder. Life was moving fast. But for once, it moved smoothly.
“Sean, come on. We’re going to be late for Anthony’s game!” my wife Jody yelled up the stairs. She wasn’t one to be late. Usually it was me running behind. “You’re always a day late and a dollar short!” Jody joked at me. Jody was strict, but an excellent mom and my best friend. We had a pack of four kids to rally in the mornings on our way out to sports games and it wasn’t always easy to get going. We all hopped into the green minivan and were on our way. Being New Englanders, coffee was a must. Two coffees and some donuts for the kids.
The soccer field was packed with families just like ours. We took pride in watching Anthony play since he was a natural athlete. He handled the ball effortlessly and usually scored a couple of times before the second half was over.
You could tell the other parents were impressed, maybe even jealous. The order of the Murphy kids goes: Abby, Alisa, Anthony and then finally little Annie.
After the soccer game, we headed back home to our little South Boston home. I waved hello to my neighbor Jay as we pulled into to the driveway and we chatted it up for a few. He was blue collar like us and a decent guy. Most of the neighborhood folks were good people and I felt fortunate for that.
Once we got inside the house and all was settled, I sat down in the living room and turned on the news. That’s when the whole day changed. A man, who I hadn’t seen in twenty years, appeared on the screen and was being escorted from a plane at Logan Airport. He was in shackles and handcuffs and he was wearing an orange jumpsuit.
“Ahead at six, more fallout from Catholic abuse scandals.” Panicking, I turned the television off. My skin crawled at the mention of his name. Seeing his face was almost unbearable.
“Dinner will be ready in five minutes!” echoed somewhere in the distance.
I heard nothing but mumble. My mind was somewhere else. My hands were trembling. Everything zoomed in and my other senses were blocked out. Almost like an out-of-body experience, I wasn’t sure where my mind was. Certainly not in the living room.
I couldn’t eat; instead I headed for the backyard. I began meticulously collecting all the stray twigs, sticks and branches I could find, transporting them to our wood pile. I took out the weed-whacker, edged the whole yard and destroyed every sprout brave enough to pop up from the garden beds. When that no longer served useful, I rustled through the shed, stacking and restacking chairs that appeared out of order. After a few paces back and forth on the cement around the pool, I was utterly exhausted.
I panted for breath as my mind started to quiet. The exhaustion overrode my ability to think.
My kids’ heads appeared over the couch and looked through the window blinds at me, beaming with sweat, dirt and frustration. Their eyebrows furrowed with concern but then again they were used to their dad distracting himself through work. As the dirt and sweat dripped slowly down the backs of my arms, I decided a shower might cool me off. I walked into the house and headed straight upstairs without speaking a word to my wife or kids. “Why God? Everything was finally perfect. Why?”
...
It all came back so fast. My family had no idea. I buried most of what happened in the back of my mind and dare I say, I almost forgot it myself. That news blurb, his face on the screen, changed everything.
That man was pure evil. To say he corrupted my youth, or destroyed my innocence, was an understatement. I kept his name and everything that happened a secret; there was only pain in those memories, and no one else needed a part of it. “It’s in the past. No one needs to know,” I kept trying to tell myself. I stepped out of the shower and stared at the ceiling, but it offered no comfort. The skeletons were coming out of the closet.
I wrestled with the thought as I tried to sleep, but at about one am I finally picked up the phone. I had Janie’s number scratched in the back of an address book that was buried in the bottom of an old cabinet. The phone rang on the other end a couple of times. I was only half expecting an answer. But the final ring cut short, and there it was, a voice I hadn’t heard in ten years.
“Hello...” my sister answered quietly. “Sean, is that you?”
I replied, “Yes.”
“Did you see the five o’clock news?” was the only response I could muster.
“I... I did,” she winced back.
“Janie, I’m sorry,” was all I could come up with.
We hadn't spoken in ten years but we could easily read each other's thoughts. “You're not alone, Janie.”
There was an awkward silence. Then holding back tears, she said, “I know.”