Immaculate Heart (7 page)

“Does she have friends?” I asked. “Maybe that's a weird question, but I don't know if lay nuns are supposed to refrain from, you know, ‘earthly attachments' or whatever.”

“I don't know that there's a rule about that, as such,” Paudie mused. “Tess is well loved. She's a friend to everyone, if you know what I mean.”

“So there's no one she'd confide in,” I said.

“Not really, no.”

“And did you get up to see Síle?” Leo asked teasingly.

“I didn't think I'd have time,” I said. “I'll go tomorrow. I'd like to talk to Orla, too.”

“She's only up the road,” Brona said.

“Good luck gettin' Orla to speak wit'cha,” Leo retorted.

“Why don't you think she'd talk to me?”

“If Tess
wants
to forget, Orla's already forgotten,” Paudie replied. “She's changed.”

“Sure, we're none of us the people we used to be,” Brona said sagely.

Leo lifted his fingers to what little remained of his hair. “And more's the pity.” The others smiled ruefully into their drinking glasses. “They say Madden is a shadow man,” Leo went on under his breath. “That Orla made him up. Would lead you to wonder where the babbies came from, if it were true!” Leo threw back his head and laughed uproariously.

“Anyhow,” Brona continued, “that's how seldom anyone sees him. Must be quite an important job he's got up in Dublin, to be gone so much of the week.”

I'd see about Orla in the morning, but in the meantime, I wanted to talk about her sister. “I put in a call to Ardmeen House after I talked to Father Lynch,” I said. “I'm waiting for the director to call me back.”

“And you'll go on waiting,” Leo replied. “It's up to yourself, but if I were you, I'd go on and make the drive up there.”

“I don't know,” I said, though I'd be taking his advice no matter what happened tomorrow. “I don't want to presume they'll let me in and not be able to see her because they think I'm too pushy. I don't even know how I'll explain myself.”

“It'll take you an hour and a quarter to get there,” said Brona. “An hour and a half at most.”

“Don't tell them why you want to see her,” Paudie put in, “or they'll never let you. The apparition is part of the reason she's in there.”

I paused with my pint glass halfway to my lips. “How can that be, when she isn't the only one who saw it?”

“I said
part
of the reason,” Paudie replied. “You'll find out the rest for yourself.”

“Sure, you couldn't make it up.” Leo clucked his tongue. “C'mere, now. Did ya ever think of writin' a book?”

My grandmother was always asking me the same question, and it never got any easier to answer. Nobody likes to be reminded of all he
hasn't
accomplished, and likely never will. “Maybe someday,” I replied. “I guess I'm still looking for the right subject.”

“You could write a book about anythin', anythin' a'tall,” Leo said, “and if the story's good, they'll all be wanting to read it.”

“Listen to him,” Paudie sniffed. “This one hasn't cracked a book since 1955!”

“I read that book you gave to me that time!” Leo protested. “The mystery. Yer man from Galway.”

“That was a Christmas gift nearly ten years back!” Paudie laughed.

“What about a screenplay?” Leo asked. “Didja ever think of writin' a script? They say there's piles of money to be made in scripts, if you've any luck a'tall.”

I hid my face in my pint to conceal my irritation. I'd tried to write a screenplay once.

“Sure, if it were that easy, we'd all be makin' fillums,” Paudie said.

We had two more rounds, but my heart wasn't in it after that. I kept thinking about those tapes, looking forward to the time when I could lock myself in Brona's spare room and listen to them undisturbed.

*   *   *

They were labeled by date. It seemed Father Dowd had interviewed Tess first, then Declan, then Orla, and finally Síle over a two-month period from January into early March of 1988.

Brona scrounged up her husband's old Walkman and left me in peace. I put on the headphones and pressed the
PLAY
button, and when the dead man began to speak, I couldn't help writing the screenplay version in my head.

FADE IN:

INT. - SIMPLY FURNISHED RECTORY OFFICE—DAY.

FATHER DOWD, a priest on the late side of middle age, clears his throat and taps his pencil softly on the ink blotter. A crucifix hangs on the wall above his head. The girl, TERESA, sits across the desk from him, wide-eyed and eager to cooperate.

 

FATHER DOWD

Today is the eleventh of January, 1988. This recording is an interview with Teresa McGowan, who is sixteen years of age and a sixth-year student at St. Brigid's College, Ballymorris. Let it also be noted that I have known Teresa from the time of her birth. I baptized her myself.

I pictured the priest with a red nose and a full head of white hair. I wanted him to look like one of the jovial old gents I'd met in the pub. He had to seem kind and dependable, because Tess would've trusted him; it was, after all, the most important secret of her life, and he would have to know the wisest way to reveal it.

 

FATHER DOWD (CONT'D)

Now, Teresa. You came to me today to make an extraordinary statement. Do you agree that we must record your experiences for the benefit of all the faithful?

 

TERESA

I do, Father.

A glance passes between the priest and the young girl; he leans forward, silently urging her to continue.

 

TERESA (CONT'D)

I believe that myself and my friends have seen an apparition of the Blessed Virgin.

 

FATHER DOWD

And do you recall the occasion of the first apparition?

 

TERESA

It was at the beginning of November, Father.

 

FATHER DOWD

And why did you not come to me immediately after the first visitation?

 

TERESA

We weren't sure of what we were seeing. We … we wanted too badly for it to be real, for
her
to be real, so we prayed first for clarity.

 

FATHER DOWD

(more gently)

You must tell us everything you remember, Tess. As clearly as you can. Begin by stating the names of your friends.

 

TERESA

Orla Gallagher, her sister Síle, and Declan Keaveney. Sometimes on a clear day we go up to the grotto on the Sligo road after school.

 

FATHER DOWD

And how do you generally pass the time you're at the grotto?

 

TERESA

Just talking, Father.

With a wheeling hand motion, the priest urges her to elaborate.

 

TERESA (CONT'D)

We talk about school, our classmates and teachers. What we intend to do when we're grown.

 

FATHER DOWD

You don't go up to the grotto to pray?

The girl fidgets in her seat, her eyes on the desk between them.

 

TERESA

Not really, Father, no.

 

FATHER DOWD

Not to worry, Teresa. I appreciate your candor. Now tell us what happened on the afternoon of the first of November.

 

TERESA

We were sitting on the bench, just talking, and suddenly everything felt strange.

(draws an audible breath)

Everyone else seemed very far away. Declan was telling a story, but it was like he was a thousand miles away and I could only hear the echo of an echo of what he'd been saying.

 

FATHER DOWD

Go on.

 

TERESA

Everything went very silent, and when I saw someone moving out of the corner of my eye, it felt like it took forever just to move my head to see what was happening.

 

FATHER DOWD

And what
was
happening? What did you see?

 

TERESA

I saw Síle. She was kneeling on the pavement, looking up towards the statue in the grotto. At first I couldn't see her face, but I knew something was happening. I came closer, and she had a queer look in her eyes.

 

FATHER DOWD

And did you see the statue of the Blessed Virgin?

 

TERESA

It wasn't there, Father. There was only a bright light. It was so bright it felt like the daylight was fading into night behind me. Darkness behind me, and the bright light ahead.

 

FATHER DOWD

As if … you'd been given a choice?

 

TERESA

(after a pause)

Aye, Father. So I looked into the light, and she was there.

 

FATHER DOWD

Tell us what she looked like.

 

TERESA

She was smiling. Beaming down at me. That was the first thing I noticed about her. And she wore the blue mantle.

 

FATHER DOWD

Did she carry the Christ child?

 

TERESA

No, Father.

 

FATHER DOWD

And did she speak to you?

 

TERESA

Not at first. To begin with, she only smiled, and I felt nothing but her love for me.

(pauses)

I might have been kneeling there for hours, I've no idea. It was like everything else in the world fell away, and there was no such thing as time. It fell from us, all of it: the sky above and the ground below. Even my own name.

I had to stop the recording just to take that in. There was something familiar about this description, as if Tess had explained it all to me once before, a long time ago.

As if she could have.

 

FATHER DOWD

But she did eventually speak?

 

TERESA

She did, Father. She said, “Do you know who I am?” and I said yes, that I had always known. I had … I suppose I had the sense that this was meant to happen.

 

FATHER DOWD

Tell me, what did she sound like? Her voice?

 

TERESA

'Twas high, and clear, and sweet.

(smiling)

She'd a voice for radio, you might say.

The priest offers her a brief, tight-lipped smile.

 

FATHER DOWD

And
how
did she speak? Had she any accent a'tall?

 

TERESA

I don't know that she did, Father. I don't ever remember noticing that.

 

FATHER DOWD

(with a smile in his voice)

So the Blessed Virgin isn't a Connaught lass?

 

TERESA

(earnestly)

No, Father.

(hesitating)

It was like we were speaking without words. Her lips never moved.

 

FATHER DOWD

Ah! Our Lady spoke directly to your heart.

(pausing)

Then what did she say?

 

TERESA

She told me … told
us
 … she had a message for the world, and she wanted us to spread it.

 

FATHER DOWD

And did you ask why she'd chosen you?

 

TERESA

I did, Father. She said that we four needed to follow the message just as diligently and faithfully as anyone else in the world. We weren't meant to be special in any way.

 

FATHER DOWD

And did that give you a certain comfort?

 

TERESA

(nodding)

My pride is my greatest fault. I know that.

 

FATHER DOWD

And what did she say to you next?

 

TERESA

She said we must live our lives with love, no matter how trying the circumstances, and show compassion even to those we feel aren't worthy of it.
Especially
to those we feel aren't worthy.

 

FATHER DOWD

She was asking ye to be more Christlike. To honor your faith by living it.

 

TERESA

Aye, Father. I told her I would try harder to be a good Christian. To show love even when it was most difficult to be loving, and to be humble when I felt tempted to set myself above others.

 

FATHER DOWD

(nodding approvingly)

And were you aware of your friends around you? Did you hear their replies?

 

TERESA

I didn't, Father. I almost forgot they were there. But then, they each felt the same way, as if she were speaking to them alone.

 

FATHER DOWD

Aye, and I'll be recording what each of them has to say in turn.

 

TERESA

And what happens after that, Father? Have I to speak to the bishop?

 

FATHER DOWD

You needn't worry, child. I'll be the one to speak to him.

The girl hesitates, clearly needing more in the way of reassurance, so the priest goes on.

 

FATHER DOWD (CONT'D)

I've informed Bishop Scanlon of these extraordinary circumstances, and if
I
am satisfied with the results of the preliminary interviews, he will then appoint a Commission of Inquiry, formed by myself and two colleagues. Together we'll speak to the four of you—one at a time, just as I'm doing now—only in greater depth. And then, if we are agreed on the nature of what you have experienced, we will formally present the case to the bishop.

 

TERESA

Will they listen to these recordings before they speak to us?

 

FATHER DOWD

They will.

After a pause, the priest gathers himself to resume the interview.

 

FATHER DOWD (CONT'D)

Now, Teresa. What happened next?

The girl doesn't answer at first, and in that silence, a door slams somewhere down the rectory corridor. When she speaks again, her voice is brimming with emotion.