Christmas came and went, and the new year began. Amos Cadbury returned from Florida, bronzed and hearty, and stopped by the rectory to report on Zwingli's defense of Mabel Gorman. Amos's young associate had been transferred from Andrew Bernardo's defense, all charges against whom had been dropped somewhat to the indignation of Tetzel, the local reporter, to Mabel Gorman's.
“He has entered a plea of insanity,” Amos said mournfully. It was clear that he did not approve of efforts to establish that people had not done what they had done.
“I suppose
insanity
has become a term of art,” Father Dowling said.
“Like so many other terms.”
Poor Mabel. Father Dowling had continued to visit her, and something like remorse for what she had done was beginning to emerge. But she had difficulty letting go of the idea that in wielding that baseball bat she had been striking a blow for justice.
“And Professor St. Clair?”
“I did not mean to injure her. And I didn't.”
Amos said, “There will be a parole hearing for Earl Hospers in a month's time.”
Edna of course was elated by this. There seemed some prospect that Earl would be released from Joliet, where he had been a model prisoner. There was however one negative effect of this good news.
“Janet tells me that Rudy Berg avoids her now.”
On campus, a romance had sprung up between Janet Hospers and the student entrepreneur who had contracted to paint the rectory trim next summer. But the publicity about Janet's father, and the rehearsal of the events that had led to his conviction, had cooled Rudy's ardor.
“I'm sorry to hear that.”
“Janet is glad to know his reaction. She herself told him about Earl before all this publicity broke. He seemed to take it in stride, but the newspaper stories were too much for him.”
“And if Earl is released on parole?”
Edna shook her head.
The sins of the fathers continue to be visited on their children. When Raymond and Andrew heard of the money Fulvio had taken from Alfred Wygant, they insisted that it must be repaid before the estate was settled. But Eleanor would not hear of it.
“It was an investment he freely entered into.”
“But he received nothing in return.”
“That was the risk he took.”
The manner of Alfred Wygant's death came up, and Eleanor grew angry.
“McDivitt told me he had a snootful when he fell,” Marie said. “The phrase was his, and he ought to know. But Alfred Wygant was a teetotaler.”
Phil Keegan entered into speculation with Marie, imagining Eleanor getting her husband drunk and pushing him over the
upstairs railing in their house. Father Dowling held his peace, remembering Fulvio's confession in the hospital. But even without the barrier of confidentiality he would not have joined in constructing the lugubrious scenario Marie and Phil imagined. Only a fraction of the misdeeds done in this world receive their just punishment, in any case, and Fulvio had received the grace of going into the next world absolved of his sins. And he had been at most a secondary cause of Alfred Wygant's death.
“If Eleanor will not claim the money, that is an end of it,” Amos said. So perhaps even the justice of this world was satisfied.
Andrew had moved into his mother's house and, the estate having been probated, Raymond's duties in Fox River were done. He had formed the habit of accompanying his mother to the noon Mass, and one day Father Dowling asked him to come back for lunch after he had taken his mother home.
Marie outdid herself, overcoming her aversion to feeding a runaway priest. At table they talked only of the Bernardo family, but when they adjourned to the study Father Dowling asked Raymond what he intended to do.
“I will go back to California.”
“To resume your work as counselor?”
“To wind it up. Phyllis has formed another attachment, and I am free.”
“Free.”
“Free to return to the Edmundites.”
“And will you?”
Raymond fell silent for a time. “It's all too easy, Father. I came home expecting to be excoriated, but only my father treated me as I deserve. As far as the other Edmundites are concerned, I can just move back in and take up where I left off.”
“And will you?”
“As I say, it is too easy. My father's judgment was the right
one. I betrayed my vocation. Coming home made me realize that as I never had before. Then I thought I faced the dilemma of continuing the betrayal or of betraying Phyllis. Now she has removed that difficulty. Everything is far too easy.”
“So what will you do?”
“When I have taken care of things in California, I am going on an extended retreat with the Benedictines in Manchester, New Hampshire. St. Anselm's Abbey. They will let me live a community life with them. A time of penance. When my inner house is in order, I will go back to the Edmundites.” He looked around the study. “I almost long to have someone accuse me, call me a Judas as my father did.”
“Your own judgment is severe enough, I think.”
When he rose to go, Father Dowling accompanied him to the front door. Before they went outside, Raymond asked for his blessing, and Roger Dowling was happy to give it. “Now you must give me yours.
Raymond hesitated. “When I return from St. Anselm's.”
Father Dowling watched him go out to the family car. He doubted that things were as easy for Raymond as he said.
“Is he gone?” Marie asked when he came down the hall.
“Yes.”
“He seems such a nice man.”
“I think he is.”
“But what he did!”
“You should have said something.”
Marie was shocked. She stepped back, eyes wide, her mouth agape.
“Oh, I would never do that.”
“That was his complaint.”
Â
Â
Jessica's novel had been finished. She dedicated it to Walter, and her Raymond character ended quite differently than did her brother. Her hero, if that is what he was, returned to his beloved, happy to escape again what the Church had become. But as he walked along the Pacific shore with the waves rolling inexorably in, his mind was troubled by memories of the faith he had lost. Time would take its toll on him, he realized that. After all, even in California people were mortal. The Four Last Things tumbled like breakers in his mind.
“I'm surprised she knew of them,” Amos said. “The Four Last Things.”
“She reads Dante, you know. She and Walter are taking Italian and intend to read the
Comedy
only in the original.”
“Perhaps Western civilization will survive after all,” Amos said.
“Stranger things have happened,” said Father Dowling, and began to fill his pipe.