It was the year 2002. And just like any other day, I ran through the motions of going to a soccer game, getting coffee, playing with the kids and enjoying life. Then I turned the television on to see Father Paul for the first time in thirty years. Handcuffs and shackles were attached to him as he got off an airplane. He wore an orange jumpsuit. My heart sank like a heavy anchor were grinding into my chest and I became speechless. After digesting the reality of the situation, I decided it was time to find Janie.
A week had gone by after talking on the phone to Janie for the first time in ten years. It was around eight o’clock and I was going over some work documents, or at least trying to, when the phone rang.
“Hello?” I said.
“Sean, is that you?” she asked.
“Yes, Janie. I was worried you were not going to call me back,” I replied.
Then there was an awkward silence.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I’m holding up, just not well,” she said.
“Me either. I barely slept all week. I know this is a lot to ask, but can you meet me tomorrow afternoon? I would rather talk in person.”
“Ehhhh,” Janie paused. “Okay.”
Janie and I agreed to meet up and go on a walk in the woods like we did as kids. When she exited the car, I recognized her right away, just a little weathered but still the same.
“It’s been some time,” she said to me, tears coming to our eyes.
“You look good and healthy,” I said to her.
“I look alright, just hurting from seeing him again,” she told me.
“I had nightmares all last night. I woke up sweating and shaking at three am,” I said.
“Same,” Janie said. “PTSD is real. You can be years and miles away from the incidents and they can come back. The sights and smells are present, like I am there - and for all intents and purposes - I am.”
“Do you think we should come forward like the others? My kids are on sports teams and in CCD. I can’t have people making judgments about me or putting my kids through that.”
“How could you put your kids in CCD, Sean? After everything that has happened?”
“I want them to have faith when things are bad. That’s what helped me. Faith in God. The church is secondary. It hasn't been easy... At least he’s behind bars and can’t hurt us,” I said to Janie.
“No... I don’t believe he can do any more damage than he already has, but I can’t help but worry.”
“I know, Janie... I know the feeling of watching over your shoulder and not trusting anyone.”
“I trust you,” Janie said.
“We are not alone. There are many others like us,” I said to Janie.
“Someday the world will know our story,” I said as a wind gust brushed the leaves into a frenzy.
“Do you think anyone will believe us?” Janie responded while clearing the hair from her face.
“Does it matter? People will only believe what they want to believe.”