The Accidental Pope (42 page)

Overall both Cippolini and Bellotti thought it had gone very well. They replayed the tape recordings that had been made and carefully critiqued them, especially the questions that were asked from the audience, and reached a conclusion for which Bellotti was quick to refer to Scripture for confirmation.

“Something you Americans do too frequently is talk a long time and never directly answer a question. What you say may sound nice, but!”

The pope's eyes narrowed. “I was never one to obfuscate—dodge the truth that is,
Eminenza.
I am not a politician.”

“Perhaps,” Bellotti replied. But I suggest—” He paused and gave the pope a meaningful look. “Let your answer be ‘yes, yes' or ‘no, no.' Anything else can be from the evil one. I think that is what you do without realizing it. You seldom hide anything, nor deny anything. I suspect if you make a real effort to say what you feel, not minding if your weaknesses show, you may be better able to win the audience. That, of course, can also present some other problems.”

The pope looked quizzically at his cardinal. “What other problems?”

The cardinal smiled, drawing his index finger across his throat. “I must be off now. Enjoy the holidays.”

Cippolini and the pope looked after the cardinal as he was leaving, then at each other. “I keep feeling like Robitelli has put an adder in my fruit basket,” the pope murmured to himself. “The cardinal is good at helping me with Mass and homilies, and of course his beloved Scripture, but I do not feel he totally has my best interests at heart. I wonder if he'll ever get over the conclave and how I was elected by his sacred college of cardinals.”

The children made the most of their holidays together, flying to Sicily with Bill. With great exuberence the Kellys followed Cippolini's Sicilian detailed planning for two and a half days. Then Ryan, Paula, Colleen, and Jan continued on to Venice and Florence before coming back to Rome on December 30 and spending New Year's Eve in the Eternal City, a perfect place to ring in the third millennium. The constant monitoring by the Swiss Guard and Italian carabinieri put a damper on Ryan and Paula. They were together all the time, but it was a problem for them to find the privacy they sought during their whirlwind tour. Nevertheless they enjoyed every moment of each other's company.

After flying into Aeroporto Marco Polo from Sicily, the four went immediately to Hotel Minerva on Venice's Grand Canal. The view with all the boat traffic was memorable and romantic. They sat out on their balcony and drank Campari and soda water before going on a tour of Venice, which didn't get them back in their hotel until after two
A.M.
By this time they were all exhausted and ready for bed.

The next evening they dined at an outdoor restaurant in San Marco Square and were serenaded by a five-piece band. After dinner it was the Rialto, famous for its markets and for shopping.

Nobody recognized them in Venice. By the time they arrived at Harry's Bar for late-night drinks, the line circled around the corner. Jan showed the maître d' his identification and told him who was with him. The owner came to the door and said it was an honor to have them. He gave them a table in the private dining room, where several movie stars had just come from the International Film Festival. They had late-night drinks and were introduced to Robert De Niro and Sharon Stone, who assured them that, as Americans, they were proud of the job their father was doing. They couldn't order a second drink because they were too exhausted, so they decided to retire for the evening and walked back to the hotel.

It was a wonderful day in one of the world's most fascinating cities. They promised each other that one day they would return. The word “honeymoon” escaped their lips. The next day, after visiting the ninth-century Basilica of San Marco, marveling at the breathtaking view of Venice from the top of the tower, the two couples took separate romantic two-hour gondola rides up and down the Grand Canal. Ryan and Paula enjoyed the complete privacy together, spending more time looking at each other, leaning back, and holding one another, enjoying the romantic setting. Finally, reluctantly, they stepped out of the gondola onto the quay. Even when Ryan was told by the boat's skipper that it cost L240,000 for the ride, he murmured jokingly, “That's about how much Dad pays me a week out at sea.”

Late that afternoon, they drove by rented van to Florence. It was six o'clock when they checked in at Hotel La Scaletta, near Ponte Vecchio with its unique rooftop view of the town. Leaving their hotel, they went on a shopping tour of the historic market. Paula bought a leather coat for Ryan and leather bags for her mother at the open market near San Lorenzo. That evening they dined at the outdoor restaurant Acqua al Due and ordered the
assaggio
dinner. They listened to Italian music accompanied by a magnificent female vocalist from the conservatory. They walked away the evening through the winding streets, seeing many American students and tourists and stopping to talk with them. Then there was Gelateria Trianogolo delle Bermuda, famous for its gelato banana, and a street artist drew a sketch of the four of them together.

Next morning, bright and early, they went to the Uffizi Museum, one of the most beautiful art museums in the world. Then they left Florence and drove to Rome, arriving around five
P.M.

At the apostolic apartments Colleen plaintively told her sister that they were surfeited with Italian food. “Do you think we could have cheeseburgers, fries, and onion rings? Like we did every Saturday night back home?” Meghan understood as her mouth watered.

Bill, Paula, Ryan, Colleen, Jan, Roger, and Meghan had a lot to talk about that night at dinner, many funny stories—like Ryan getting his pocket picked, and not realizing it until he saw Jan chasing a young boy who dropped Ryan's wallet on the ground, still containing all his credit cards and money. Paula told the Kellys how at first a certain shop owner wanted L150,000 lire for Ryan's leather coat and when Paula said, “No, too much,” and started walking away, the shop owner chased after her and said, “OK, one hundred thousand.”

Jan recalled how he had asked the pope if he could invite his daughter for a date. He said, “I don't know how I got the courage to ask you, sir, but I'm surely glad I did.”

“So am I,” Colleen seconded.

At ten
P.M.
New Year's Eve the foursome said good night, making their way into the city's crowds to experience Rome's way of introducing the year 2001
A.D.
Meghan, like most busybodies, expressed concern that they be good and take it easy on the vino. After they'd gone, Bill reassured her that not only would two Swiss guards in civilian clothes follow them at a respectful distance, but Jan was also carrying his handgun. And so they walked throughout the centrum, enjoying the life and splendor of this special night of celebration. Making their way to Piazza del Popolo, they were startled by the traditional throwing of plates and fireworks at people's feet while they walked down the street. The four had never experienced the likes of it and couldn't remember seeing anything akin to it in America or Switzerland.

Later they hooked up with Maureen Kirby and some of her friends at the Night & Day disco. When they got to the door, Colleen told the doorman, “I have a friend holding seats and a table for us.” The next thing they knew they were jam-packed together at a table.

Colleen asked Maureen how she had gotten these seats right up front and Maureen said, “Lire talks in Roma.”

Jan chimed in, “Like my Swiss guard badge.” They danced and welcomed in the New Year in typical Italian style, a Millennium Eve never to be forgetten.

They left the disco while the city was still jumping and couldn't flag a taxi. It was just as well, for they had a chance to walk and share the events of the evening a little longer, until they finally stopped a cab. Cold and exhausted, they nonetheless had a wonderful evening. They dropped Paula off at her college hostel, where Ryan and she kissed a passionate good night and resolved that this was only the beginning. Then the cab drove on to the Vatican.

Pope Peter was prepared to celebrate a solemn High Mass in St. Peter's at ten-thirty New Year's morning. He toasted in the New Year with an Irish Mist after two hours of playing Monopoly with Roger and Meghan, and then they went to bed. Bill slept soundly, not moving; even the riotous sound of fireworks at the nearby Piazza del Popolo failed to wake him. In the Vatican, Bill had learned, you rose early, you worked late, and you slept soundly, not unlike his routine as a fisherman on Cape Cod.

34

THE CHOSEN

The annual New Year's Day homily was behind him, and Bill Kelly settled down to focusing on the administrative details of the Church at home and worldwide. Despite the popularity and effectiveness of the previous pope, John Paul II, administration had not been his strong point. He was a “big picture” man, not a Jimmy Carter–type leader who, it was said, even tried to micromanage disputes within the White House down to who might use the tennis courts during this or that lunch break.

A trip to Africa, at the urging of Cardinal Motupu, was now anticipated. Cardinal Robitelli was hard at work with Bill on Church matters like papal nuncio assignments to various countries, the Vatican Bank and its investments, or the many religious, political, and constituency groups requesting to meet the new pope since his election. And there was the matter of his first encyclical to be written and released.

Then a day to which Pope Peter had looked forward arrived. A bright smile creased his weathered face as he reached into a desk drawer and took out the folder labeled
PRIVATE NOTES
. Withdrawing its contents, he reached for his phone and summoned Cardinal Robitelli for a hurried discussion.

Robitelli arrived quickly. “Gino,” he was greeted, “today I am scheduled to meet with the World Council of Rabbis, it says here. Do you have any idea how many? What is their agenda?”

The cardinal frowned, not sure of the number. “Head Rabbi Koburn from Jerusalem called me last week. It seems he needed to contact some rabbis from countries across the world. Laughingly, he also stated that like everyone else, they were startled by our election of a layman and wanted to wait to see what would be going on here. We estimate about sixty to seventy of them will be present.”

“I talked to Ed Kirby yesterday,” the pope said. “He's close to the leadership of the American Jewish community due to his helping the president develop diplomatic relations between Israel and the Vatican under you and John Paul II. He thinks the Jewish leaders are bound to raise the Holocaust apology issue.”

“No doubt,” replied Robitelli. “Even though this is a get-acquainted meeting, expect a serious discussion on several controversial issues. And you can be sure they will bring up the ten thousand hidden Jews,” he added. “Children who were saved from Hitler by adoption into Catholic families and then baptized.”

The cardinal sighed deeply. “A Mr. Gabe Wolfson of the Jewish Anti-Defamation League in New York, a friend of Kirby's, was urging us—especially Church officials in eastern Europe—to turn over baptismal records to international Jewish agencies, for determining every child's religious lineage. Those records are not kept here, they were in the churches where the children were baptized. Most were destroyed during the war. In fact many records were not kept to protect the children from the Nazis.”

“I suppose that when Secretary of State Madeleine Albright discovered she was Jewish, not Catholic, it revived the issue,” the pope said. “Although John Paul II's visit to Israel healed some wounds, many apparently still remain.”

“I have arranged for Father Remi, who is our secretary for the Religious Relations Commission with Jews, to drop in this morning and brief you and answer any questions that you may have.”

“Thank you, Gino.” He held up his folder of notes. “I'll be ready.”

“The meeting itself will be in the Vatican Picture Gallery, a beautiful and quite historic setting. The group has asked for a private tour of the museums and the Sistine Chapel, and a group photo with you in front of a famous painting by Pinturicchio and Perugino called
Moses Journeying to Egypt.
”

The pope scribbled notes of his conversation with Robitelli. “Gino, have a papal chair placed at the head of that large Italian marble table. We can all sit around it and be comfortable. Find out what rabbis like and have some of our special wine there and light snacks, OK? And make sure it's kosher.” Although the requests were unusual for a papal audience, the cardinal recognized what the pope was thinking and rose to attend to the details.

“Deference to the roots of Jesse … I must admit, that is a nice touch, Bill.”

“Thanks, Gino. And oh, would you ask Sister Miriam to attend as well? Her family background—you know, coming from Brooklyn—and her education and religious training would make her prepared and qualified to be there. I may also have to dictate things if they make any requests. Be prepared for anything, eh?”

At twelve noon the gathering of eighty-three Jewish rabbis, scholars, and a few other representatives from Jewish groups from throughout the world were seated around the marble table in the magnificent Vatican Picture Gallery. They noticed that a painting of a German-born Jew, Edith Stein, killed by the Nazis at the Auschwitz concentration camp, was hanging there. Stein, the first Jewish-born canonized saint, had converted to Catholicism and had been a Carmelite nun.

Bottles of kosher wine, mineral water, juice, and crackers and cheese were in ample supply. At the far end on a slightly raised platform sat a gilded, cushioned papal chair that elicited negative comments from among the rabbis, bothered by the noticeable sign of authority. “What to expect from this new pope?”

A door at the front of the room opened and the pope entered in his simple white cassock and skullcap, accompanied by a tall thin nun but no other aides. The rabbis rose to show their respect. The pope stopped just short of the main chair and raised his hands.