Mercy of St Jude (10 page)

“Look at this, Annie.” Mercedes turned the page of a slightly tattered book on the flora of the east coast. “Such a rare find. Over a hundred years old.”

“Wow!” Annie leaned over to look. She knew better than to touch it; her hands were still damp. “Is Granddad here?” she asked hopefully.

“In the back room. I picked up his new computer in St. John's yesterday and he's been at it since he got up this morning.” She poured Annie tea from the big brown pottery teapot. “Here, this will take the chill from your bones.”

“So he finally got a computer, did he?”

“Yes. Now, you received your results yesterday. How did you do?” If Mercedes had something to say, out it came – no dawdling, no feigned indifference.

Annie had no such inclination. “Pretty good,” she answered.

Her aunt sliced into the raisin-studded bread. Steam rose up as its molassesey goodness sweetened the humid air. “Did you beat them?”

“Ah…I…you know, did pretty good,” she stammered, accepting a plate of hot buttered bread.

Mercedes folded her arms and stared at Annie. “Yes, go on.”

“I had a really bad cold during exams, and Mom's always over at Beth's helping with her new baby, and I was really tired from the—”

“Ann, did you come first or not?” Mercedes cut in sharply.

“Ann” was a sure sign of displeasure. Annie decided she might as well confess. Playing verbal cat and mouse with her aunt was destined to be a losing battle.

“Cathy beat me by two marks.” Mercedes' scowl deepened. Annie rushed to justify herself. “I wonder if her mother told her the questions. She's a teacher, she probably knew them.”

“Nonsense!” The single word, issued in Mercedes' cold authoritarian voice, made Annie sit up straight. “Violet Green would no more cheat than I would.” Mercedes leaned over and wagged her finger in Annie's face. “If you had one grain of sense in that wasted brain of yours you'd know that.”

“They didn't ask the right questions.” Her voice had fallen to a plaintive whimper. “There was stuff on there the teachers hadn't even covered. It's not fair.”

Mercedes plunked the knife down on the counter. “When you're finished blaming the world, perhaps you can tell me who came in third. I assume it was the Fowler boy?”

Annie seized the opportunity to focus elsewhere. “Francis didn't even make the top three. At least I came in second, and Cathy barely beat me. I'd like to get them marks checked.” Sometimes she didn't know when to shut up.

“Enough, Ann. Who came in third?” Each word was a measure in patience.

Annie looked down at her plate, her appetite gone. She pictured Gerry's face, Mercedes' errand boy. The fact that Annie or Pat or Aiden would have been equally capable and in need of earning money had apparently never occurred to Mercedes. And from what Annie had seen, she paid Gerry handsomely, and for the oddest things. She paid him to read, for God's sake. She even let him borrow her precious books.

It had grown quiet in her aunt's kitchen. Mercedes was waiting.

“Gerry Griffin,” Annie mumbled, flicking at the handle of her mug of tea.

“Gerry came in third?” A smile lit up her aunt's face as she clapped her hands together. “I told that young man he could do it. I said if he studied hard and let me help him, he could beat out those show-offs who think they know everything.”

Annie pushed the tea away. Is that what Mercedes thought of her? A show-off? As she watched her aunt's beaming face, she realized that Mercedes wasn't even aware of the insult. Worse still, she had apparently been helping Gerry all along. Since when did his success become more important than Annie's?

“To think he placed in the top three!” Mercedes continued. “He never made it better than sixth before that. He must have worked so hard, what with all he does to help that mother of his. What a fine lad he's become…”

A fine lad? He'd come in third to Annie's second, yet Mercedes called him a fine lad while at the same time implying that Annie was a failure.

Still Mercedes prattled on. “…always knew he was better than the rest of them…”

Annie looked out the window at the rain lashing the pane. She wished she was out there, away from her aunt's gushing voice. Would the woman never shut up?

“Anyway,” Annie cut in, hurt beyond caring if she was rude, “Mom and I wondered if you could lend us some money to supplement the student loan I'll get.”

Mercedes focused back on Annie. “That scholarship should have been yours.”

“Well it almost was. And it wasn't my fault. If I'd known—”

“Enough excuses. Go home and I'll think about it.” She stood up and started to leave the room. “And don't waste that food, we're not made of money.”

Annie locked her eyes on the two slices of bread and kept them there until Mercedes was gone. Plump raisin eyes glistening in melted butter stared up at her. Forcing herself to take a bite, she realized she was starving and stuffed the rest in her mouth. She was about to leave and take the second piece with her when she heard Mercedes talking to Callum.

“…her own fault…such a disappointment…”

Annie stopped chewing to better hear what they were saying.

“…first year I taught him, I could see the potential, ragged clothes and all.”

There was an indistinguishable mumble, presumably from Callum.

“Yes, I suppose I did.” Mercedes' wistful tone made Annie's skin prickle.

There was a shuffle, a chair moving, followed by her grandfather's strong voice. “He's a lucky boy to have you looking out for him, Mercie, that's all I can say. And like I told you a million times, it was never your fault.”

“Nor yours. Doesn't stop you from wondering ‘what if, ' though, does it?”

“Maybe not, but I'm long past feeling guilty for it.”

“You're right, I know. You can't just erase guilt from your soul, though, can you? But if I can help young Gerry, maybe God will see fit to forgive us all in the end.”

There was a moment of silence. Annie tried not to breathe too loudly.

“I must call and congratulate him. I just hope that wicked witch of a mother of his doesn't answer the phone,” Mercedes said.

Under cover of her grandfather's laughter, Annie crept out of the house, carefully closing the squeaky screen door. She deliberately chose not to dwell on what she'd heard. She'd had it with Gerry and Mercedes and had no intention of wasting another minute on either of them. Instead, she thought with regret of the figgy bread she'd forgotten on the table and which Rufus was probably eating that very minute.

Three days later her aunt called her to come over to discuss the loan. Mercedes poured tea, from a pitcher with ice this time. There was no warm bread.

“I've given this a lot of thought, Ann. I don't think you deserve that loan.”

Annie could hardly believe it. Mercedes, who had always encouraged her desire to go to university, who had insisted for years that Annie was smart enough to do it, now refused to help her. Why couldn't she support her when she really needed it?

“…rewarding undesirable behaviour,” Mercedes was saying. “I've told you that you spend too much time combing the beach, dreaming when you should be studying. You knew you needed that scholarship, and look what you've done. You let everyone down, your grandfather, your mother, most of all yourself. I hope this teaches you the value of hard work. Look at Gerry. If you had half the drive…”

As Mercedes talked on, the hurt turned to anger. What was it with her and Gerry Griffin? Annie thought back to the snippets of conversation she'd overheard on her last visit. What made him a hero and Annie such a disappointment?

She stood up abruptly. “Never mind about the loan. I'll figure it out for myself.” Without waiting for a response from Mercedes, she stormed out of the house.

More determined than ever, she put up flyers at Burke's and the post office offering all manner of services, from lawn to child care, but all she got were a few babysitting jobs. There was little extra work in St. Jude, especially for a seventeen-year-old girl.

Just as she was beginning to despair, Callum stopped by the house complaining that he couldn't figure out his new computer. When Annie volunteered to help, he offered to hire her to set up his documents and teach him how to use it. She told him she would do it for nothing. When he insisted, she let herself be talked into being paid, knowing that her student loan would not be enough to see her through.

With her money problems temporarily sorted, Annie let herself begin to dream about the fall. The future was hers and she intended to grab onto it and fly, leaving Mercedes Hann and Gerry Griffin in the dust of the Trans-Canada Highway.

St. Mary's High was a school divided. The boys, governed
by the Brothers, were on one side; the girls, ruled by the Sisters,
were on the other. The gymnasium, which also served as the
lunchroom, was in the middle. Each day during lunch, the
Nuns and the Brothers walked up and down between the tables,
making sure there was sufficient distance between individual
boys and girls. Each day after lunch Sadie Griffin
cleaned up after them all. She didn't like this particular cleaning
job. She didn't like the students, and she wasn't fond of the
Brothers or the Nuns. She preferred priests. Sadie would
clean up after a priest any day.

That hand goes any lower down her arse it'll be coming out the front.

Sadie walked in procession behind Cyril Maher and Cathy Green as they followed the priest out of the gym at the end of the school Mass. Her hands were joined together, her head slightly lowered. Her pious demeanour belied the indignation in her eyes as they focused on the hand caressing the backside in front of her.

I seen them carrying on, during Mass no less. Like he wanted to slide himself under her skirt right then and there. At lunch too, him with his paws everywhere under the table. Disgusting.

Outside the gym doors, Sadie raised her face to the bright sky. Her arthritis had been worse than normal of late and she was relieved to see the approach of spring. Sidling up next to the visiting priest where he waited to greet students and teachers on the school steps, she placed her hand on his arm.

“My word, Father, that glare would blind you but I thank the Lord anyway.”

Nice bit of muscle there. Good looking too.

Father Ryan nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Griffin, it's certainly bright.”

“You must be starving after that wonderful sermon. I got lunch done up for you at the Priest's House. Cold salmon, potato salad, bit of cheese and bread to go with it.”

“Thank you.” He removed his arm from under her hand to adjust his robe.

“Sure it's the least I can do after you come all this way.”

Especially seeing as they pays me to do it. Still, not like the old days when I got regular work and a steady cheque. Grand job that was. Grand benefits too. Hah!

“That's very kind of you, Mrs. Griffin.”

“Might be the church sees fit to save you all that travel some time soon, what?”

Father Ryan smiled and nodded and turned to a group of students.

Sadie carried on down the steps until a sharp familiar voice called her name. She turned. Several steps above her stood Mercedes Hann who, since her retirement from teaching, ran the school library.

“Good day, Mercedes. And how are you?”

Dried up old prune.

“Fine. And you?” Mercedes' tone held an air of forced politeness.

“Well now, I was just thinking how it's nice to see the sun again, get a bit of lube back in the old bones. Such a long winter, sometimes I wonders if I'll ever thaw out—”

“Might I have a word with you?”

A word? Isn't that what they were having?

Mercedes moved ahead, away from the crowd. “A walk?”

“Yes…yes sure.” Sadie rushed to catch up.

“Has Gerry spoken to you about our conversation?”

Sadie looked sideways at Mercedes. “Gerard? No…what about?”

Mercedes gave Sadie a wary look. “Perhaps I should wait…”

Spit in her face, I would. That sick of the two of them, all comfy-cozy and secret.

“Something going on, better tell me.” Sadie softened her tone. “I am his mother.”

Mercedes stopped. “I didn't want to betray Gerry's confidence, especially with so much money involved.”

Sadie's head tilted on a distinct angle, like a cat sensing a mouse's presence before it sees the rodent itself.

“Forgive me, Sadie, please,” Mercedes said.

Sadie was perfectly willing to forgive, especially with “so much money involved.” “That's all right, Mercedes dear. You've always been good to our family.”

And a self-righteous pain in the arse.

Mercedes nodded. “I've offered to pay for Gerry's university education.”

Sadie's breath caught. “You what?”

“I should have spoken to you first, I suppose.” Mercedes started walking again. “I don't want to offend you, really I don't. I know you have your pride.”

If there was a hint of insincerity, Sadie ignored it. “What did Gerard say?”

“He said he couldn't let me, that it was too much and that I had my own family.”

Christ have mercy! When did he get so stupid?

“Gerard's a proud boy,” Sadie managed to say.

Mercedes slowed her stride. “Perhaps you could talk to him?”

I'll talk to him all right. And I'll be getting that money, and I don't care about the why of it. Still…you got to wonder… what's that one hiding?

“Why you doing it?”

Mercedes looked uneasy. “He's a good boy. We both only want what's best for him. Considering that I ask for no repayment, I believe we can leave it at that, and between us?” Mercedes gave Sadie a look that made it clear they understood each other, at least as much as they ever would.