Bazza!

BAZZA!

Bazza!

By Graham Sealby

Copyright @2015 Graham Sealby

At Smashwords

Prologue

With a soft hiss, the priest opened the sliding screen door in the confessional booth. He intoned . . .

‘In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.’

‘Bless me father, for I have sinned. It's been two weeks since my last conf. (choke). .confession, and, and . . . father, I need help. (Pause) I can’t control myself.

There was a silence interrupted by the sound of soft sobbing. The priest waited until the penitent had composed himself. Eventually,

'At least, I don’t think I can. I try, but every time I look at them, they . . . they’re so beautiful. I just want to touch . . . to hold. But then (sounding anguished) I get overwhelmed with lust, and . . . and . . . father, I just can’t help myself.’

‘My son, why don’t you just tell me what’s troubling you. Out with it. It’s better to be candid for only then I can help you, and getting your problems out is the best way to deal with them. It also takes a large burden off your soul. But as a practicing Catholic you know that don’t you?’ Remember, Jesus forgives all our sins if we have the courage to admit to them.’

‘Yes father, I do but I’m ashamed and, and . . . frightened. It’s getting worse – I’m afraid that I’ll do something bad - really bad.’

‘Just tell me; unburden your conscience. Take your time . . . when you’re ready. Sometimes when we bottle up our problems they become more serious than they really are.’

Silence; then,

‘I’m (hesitantly) a year 9 & 10 teacher at a local college, but on Sunday's I teach mostly indigenous kids about our religion and the salvation they derive from following Jesus. But . . . I'm ashamed . . . I . . . I’ve become infatuated with the girls at the school, (long pause) . . . particularly the aborigine girls. They’re so beautiful, so carefree, so open, and so warm. Their eyes . . . their dark brown eyes are so . . . appealing. At (talking quickly) night I become aroused just thinking about them. My loving turns to lusting, so much so that I can’t control my urges.’ But there’s one . . . ‘

‘Wait, (sounding shocked) stop. You said that you were a teacher but you're lusting over the children given into your care? To have carnal thoughts is one worry, (pause) but have you ever given in to your urges and had physical contact with any of the girls?'

‘Yes father, yes I do; I mean . . . I have (pause) There's one particular girl who. . . Ummm, err . . . looks after me but I don’t really molest her because I give her money for her services. I know she passes the money onto her parents, who . . . well, I don't know what they use the money for.

‘Stop (angry) . . . stop there! I don’t want to listen to your details, just your confession. (Pause) You must be aware that sexually molesting any child is both illegal and abhorrent in the eyes of the community and Mother Church. Yet you seem to imply that you've done nothing wrong; that the giving of money seems to alleviate your crime. Don't you realize that you're making these children into prostitutes?' (The penitent went to interrupt)

'No, please let me finish. What you're doing is very, very wrong. You must promise me that you will cease these disgraceful activities immediately. Only, and I mean only, then will I grant you absolution on the condition that you stop molesting these children. Do I have your solemn promise?'

(Long pause) ‘I don’t . . . (sob) know father. I don’t want to . . . but I think I’m losing control. Please . . . please help me.’

There followed silence as the priest marshaled his thoughts. Then,

'Try and accept Jesus into your heart and ask for forgiveness. I can give you absolution if you truly repent your sins. Tell me, do you believe you’ll take action on your perversion? Do you think you’ll succumb to your lust?’

‘My son, all I can do is help you mend your soul; to do that and give you absolution I must have your solemn promise that you will cease your carnal thoughts and activities. God will not forgive you if you act on your unhealthy desires. Do you understand?’

There was silence in the confessional before the priest continued,

‘We can say an act of contrition together, but as a teacher, you know you’re betraying your duty of care, as well as perusing acts that are illegal under the law. I can’t help you there. You must seek professional help. I’ll give you absolution only if you promise to undertake counseling Is that understood?’

‘Thank you father, yes, yes I do.’

‘Good! For your penance, say ten our fathers and ten hail Maries. Now, then let’s say the Act of Contrition together’

‘Oh my God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee, and I detest all of my sins because . . .’

###

Father Peter O’Brien, the Parish priest, waited till after the penitent had departed before leaving the confessional. It would not do to be face to face, especially on a matter as contentious as pedophilia.

Had he emerged sooner, he might have seen the penitent climb into his car, divest himself of his casual garb, and don regular clerical attire.

But thankfully he did not. As he crossed in front of the alter he genuflected before proceeding to his living quarters. His curate, Father James was preparing a cup of tea.

‘Sit. Sit you down father, the tea’s a-brewing; won’t take a minute. You look like you need some sustenance, a troubling confessional?’ Father James lilting Irish brogue seemed almost musical to the ears.

‘In many ways yes, in many ways. There are times when being a priest and trying to live with the seal of the confessional is a burden too large to bear; especially for one person.’

There was silence as Father James pushed a now steaming cup of tea towards Father O’Brien. The curate did not want to intrude on a clearly troubled superior, but then when Fa. O'Brien did not respond he offered,

‘Yes, I can understand. Often, whilst we let our penitents unburden themselves to us before God, all that really happens is they transfer their problems onto ourselves. To be sure it’s unfair because we end up living with a problem on our conscience.’

‘Exactly’, agreed Father O’Brien (sipping his steaming hot tea) ‘Exactly. Just now I heard something that I should report to the police, but I can’t. Damn! Damn it!’

There was silence as Father James gently stirred his tea and Father O’Brien stared morosely into his teacup.

‘Aarh, have done with it now father. There’s not a thing you can do. Let it be. It’s a good man y'are father; don’t distress yerself so.’

‘Easy to say, oh so easy to say. I only wish I could. I have a feeling . . . a bad feeling that this will come back to me soon in a way that will affect not only you and I, but the whole community.’

Chapter One

Barry pulled into the closest available parking space, turned off the ignition and settled back with a sigh of relief. The drive from Melbourne since mid-morning to this part of South Gippsland was not long, but he’d driven all the way without a stop.

He surveyed the spreading Marist Brothers College and the adjacent (St. Bridget’s) nunnery that dominated this small Victorian country town of Waterford. The grounds certainly were spacious and well kept with flowerbeds and some ornamental trees. He gave a mental tick to the gardeners.

Fuck! Well this is it. After all the exchanges of letters and phone calls, I’m about to experience cold reality. Is this the only way to recover from a messy love affair? Who knows? If there is a manual on how to deal with heartbreak then I’d like to know. Am I being a coward and running away or being courageous? (Sigh) I guess there’s only one way to find out.

###

Barry climbed the wide entrance steps that opened into the main foyer. It was quiet and strangely deserted even at this time of the afternoon. From around a corner a ‘mousey’ young woman appeared, carrying what looked to be textbooks.

‘I’m looking for Brother Dominic; can you tell me where he might be?’

Following the young woman’s directions he found himself fronting a door marked PRINCIPAL. He knocked on the door and a gruff voice bid him ‘enter’!

Opening the door he came face to face with a veritable she-dragon. Two ferocious eyes stared at him through pearly-rimmed reading glasses.

‘Can I help you? Said she, with a voice that was pure venom.

‘Um. My name is Barry Thomson . . . from Melbourne. I’m the new teacher and . . . ’

‘You’re early. We weren’t expecting you until tomorrow. Did you get the time wrong?’

‘Umm, no. I just thought I’d come early so I could settle in before I start classes. Is it a problem?’

‘Only that the Headmaster is a very busy man and he can’t just drop his schedule to talk to some inconsiderate wretch who doesn’t have the courtesy of keeping to an appointed time.’

Now Barry had a way of dealing with these females. Mentally he stripped her naked. No bras, no make-up, no girdle, no panties. And what an ugly sight. Riddled with cellulite; her tits hung down like used condoms; her wide fat hips overflowed around her girth and her face looked like a saggy gorgon. He had to suppress a smile as she self-importantly flounced into the Principal’s office . . . of course, without knocking.

Returning, she grudgingly ushered Barry into the Headmaster’s office where he was greeted with a warm handshake and invited to sit. Barry studied his new boss; even seated Brother Dominic looked tall and studious. Sitting back in his chair, Barry could feel his intelligent eyes observing him. When he eventually spoke it was with a calm and resonant voice.

Welcome Mr. Thomson, welcome. You are impressively early. Did you have a good journey?

‘Umm yes, thank you. I hope I’m not intruding or being rude by turning up early.’

‘Not at all no, not at all. If you had difficulty with my secretary, please don’t be concerned. She likes to unsettle all newcomers. Really, she’s all bark and no bite. Can I offer your some tea or coffee?'

‘Well she was a little daunting,’ said Barry somewhat relieved. ‘I only wanted to get settled before classes commenced; and no thanks I don’t need any refreshments just now.’

Barry started to feel relaxed; he leaned back and placed his arm around his chair.

‘Good, good. Just give me a moment to . . . to locate your file (pause). . . Aarh, here it is. Now let’s see. You went to Frankston high and then started Teacher College training before being interrupted by your career as a rookie for the Saint Kilda Football Club.’ Brother Dominic looked up to observe Barry’s affirmative nod. Then,

‘And after retiring from football you completed your Teacher College studies. Following graduation you spent a year with Frankston Secondary College. This brings us to now. Have I summed up your career correctly?’

‘Yes’, Barry agreed. ‘That’s about it I guess’.

Putting down his reading glasses, Brother Dominic peered at Barry with a small smile.

‘We all admire your football exploits here; we are indeed lucky to have someone so famous. Tell me, do you miss playing football?’

Sitting back still with his arm around the back of the chair, Barry gave a small laugh before responding,

‘I miss playing footy. Yes, I love the game and do miss it; but what I don’t miss is the training. These days only young guys can keep up with the heavy training demands. I’m happy to just watch.’

‘Well, as you probably know we encourage football here. Our school has been prominent in developing the sport with boys and has enjoyed some success. But I’m sure you’re aware of this. ‘

Barry just nodded, as Brother Dominic continued,

‘Our sports master is Brother Michael, and I’ll introduce you when we’re finished talking. It’s my hope that you could perhaps share some of your practical match experience with him and our boys. Brother Michael does not have the personal track record that you do.’

‘I’ll try and help out in any way that I can. However, I’m not here for footy. I want to resume my teaching career and hopefully become a better teacher. I love kids and get a kick by helping them achieve their full potential. I'd like to think that I can apply sound teaching practices to football; and I’m here for as long as you want me.’

Brother Dominic nodded his approval, but then he seemed to become uneasy, almost embarrassed. After a moment’s pause,

'From your correspondence you mentioned that you've recently had a distressful incident in your private life and that's the reason you want to . . . hmmm (pause) err . . . escape to the country. Am I correct?'

'Yes, (sounding subdued) yes; but I'm over most of the emotional pain and I assure you that my recent personal experience will not affect my ability to teach.'

Suddenly an image of Wendy flashed in his mind and once again, her beautiful eyes and heart-like face captivated him. Why, oh why did she have to betray him when . . . ?

After a moment's reflection Barry continued,

'In a way you're right; coming to the country was a necessary move to avoid any harmful memories that I had in Melbourne. Yes, I decided to change my location. I hope that you won't affect your judgment of my ability as a teacher.'

'No of course not! But if you're feeling stressed in the aftermath of your unpleasant experience I'd advise you to perhaps seek council . . . someone to talk to. By the way, are you a religious person?

'No sir, no I'm not. I hope I don't offend you, but I find that organized religion does not promote peace in the world. In fact it is the cause of most conflicts. In a way I wish I could believe; it would be comforting to have such reassurance.' Then as an afterthought,

'I hope my skepticism will not mar our relationship?'

"No, of course not Mr. Thomson. Sadly, I know many religious people who are definitely not virtuous, as I also know many nonbelievers who are wonderful human beings.

Now, let's go find Bro. Michael; I'll introduce you to him, but as far as the other members of the faculty, please feel free to visit the common room and make yourself known.''

###

They found Brother Michael on the school sports ground, where he was putting the school footy team through some basic muscle conditioning. The sports master was a man in his late thirties who obviously, even with his baggy track attire, kept himself in good shape. He had a full head of black hair parted, in an old-fashioned way on the side. His face was craggy, like a boxer who had had one too many fights, and his eyes were cold; a cold grey that seemed not to carry any warmth. But when he smiled his features softened.

His handshake was firm and masculine - almost friendly. With Br. Dominic looking on they exchanged pleasantries and Barry began to relax. He offered,

‘It’s a real pleasure to meet you Brother Michael; I’ve been hearing how successful you’ve been with the lads.’

‘Thank you Barry; please drop the ‘Brother’ and call me simply Mike, everyone does. Yes we’ve got a good team and we’ll benefit from your match experience. The boys know about you joining us and they’re enthusiastic to meet with you. A couple of youngsters have caught my eye and I’m giving them special attention. I’d like your opinion.

With that Br. Dominic interrupted with,

‘Now that you two have met I’ll be off to attend to other matters’ Turning slightly he remarked to Barry,

‘Brother Michael is very good with the boys, and I’m sure Barry that you’ll give him your earnest help’; and then walked away.

But once he was out of hearing, the atmospherics changed. Brother Michael took a step backwards and placed his hands on his hips. Gone were the friendly smile and the warmth he generated before. His eyes grew cold and he stared at Barry with a look of utmost contempt.

‘Let me make myself clear, crystal clear. I don't give a shit about your so-called brilliant footy career. I'm in charge; these are my boys and my team. You can play with them all you like but if I find you instructing them, I'll have your guts. Understand mister, there's only one coach and that's gonna be me. Oh, they can ask you questions and slobber after you; treat you as a star, I can't do anything about that, but if I find you questioning any of my strategies I'll whip you to within an inch of your life. Do I make myself clear?'

‘No, not really; I wasn’t paying too much attention. I’m off to update my ‘Working with Children’ accreditation at the local police station. Will you tell the headmaster I might be half an hour late tomorrow morning. Thanks . . . Mike’; and walked off leaving the Sports master fuming. Then spying Billy Yorta close by Br. Michael yelled,

‘Yorta . . . get back to the team before I put my boot up your scrawny, black abbo arse.'

But the boys had been covertly watching the face to face between Barry and Brother Michael and as soon as Barry started walking away they raced over and surrounded him. In a flash, boys swamped Barry wanting to touch him, to shake his hand and fire questions at him. There were cries of,

'Hey Barry do you miss . . . ' and,

'Bazza, Bazza will you coach us . . . ' and,

'Hey, I got a sister who . . .'

Barry tried to answer all the questions and gladly shook the proffered hands. All the while he was grimly aware of Bro. Mike standing alone, red faced and seething. Gently he extracted himself from the throng and said,

'Hey guys, I'll get to know each of you soon enough, but for now you better go back and let Bro. Mike finish training for today. It's important you do what the coach says. Training hard is an integral part of becoming a successful footballer; and with that he slowly walked away.

###

Barry had an option of choosing a flat or a semi-detached for his personal use and he opted for the latter. He loved having space around him. The house was completely furnished; not exactly for his liking but