Father O’Donovan hated the weekly staff meetings at Trinity High School. Every week, without fail, at 3:30, on Fridays, the thirty or so priests gathered to discuss any problems with the boys, classes, or overall school. Mostly, Father Bryant would blame any teachers who did not discipline for the various uniform, attendance, schoolwork, and attitude infractions. O’Donovan was normally a teacher listed, not that he cared. He was sure that God did not care if he marked a boy for not buttoning his shirt all the way up.

When O’Donovan got to the teacher’s lounge, the only other teachers there were Brother Peck and Brother Lee. He nodded at brother Peck and sat down at a table, next to Brother Lee. The priest was the oldest at the school, nearly seventy, and had been teaching for almost fifty years. O’Donovan was friendly with him, but they were not particularly close. Brother Lee taught history, O’Donovan math, and there was little academic interaction between the two.

“Hello, Connor.” O’Donovan might have been a father, but Brother Lee still called him by his first name.

“Hello, Brother. How are you?”

“The same, the same. Those freshmen, all too interested in wars and sex and not a all keen on religion. What can I say? Boys will be boys. I remember when I was that age. Don’t you?” O’Donovan nodded.

“It was different in Ireland. We were poorer than people here, not as educated. God, I miss it, though. I haven’t been back enough.” As usual, O’Donovan’s accent thickened when he spoke of is home.

“Once we get to twentieth century European history, would you like to speak to my class about what it was like, growing up in Ireland at a time of turmoil?”

“Brother Lee, I wouldn’t call it turmoil, but of course. Anything for you, sir.” O’Donovan did not know why he put the sir in. It seemed right, though.

More teachers came into the lounge. Brother Damon smiled at O’Donovan and Brother Lee, but went to sit next to Brother Peck. Brother Roberts joined O’Donovan, as did two of the science teachers. O’Donovan nodded at them, but id not speak. Father Bryant came in, just as the clock struck three thirty.

“As you all know, our own Brother Thomas resigned yesterday. I will try to find a decent replacement for Brother Thomas as fast as I can. Brother Damon, you will take over for him. Brother Lee, do you mind taking on his class on analyzing historical texts?”

“Of course not, Father. I’d be honored. Thank you.”

“Alright. Are there any other questions. Yes, Father O’Donovan?” Bryant sounded sarcastic when he called on the other man. O’Donovan stood up.

“Father Bryant, I mean no disrespect to Brother Thomas, but the boys are saying things about him.”

“What do you mean, things?”

“Today at lunch, I overheard some boys saying that he was, well, a child molester, and that is why he resigned and the Larkin boys left.”

Father Bryant took his glasses off and cleaned them on his cassock. “How do you know about the Larkin boys?”

“I was in the office yesterday and said goodbye.”

“Did you tell any of the boys they were leaving?” Bryant put his glasses back on.

“No. But I think they know they no longer go to Trinity.”

“Good. Any more questions? Good. Now, the first dance is coming up in three weeks. How are we going to deal with the obvious concerns of drinking and girls? Yes, Brother Damon?” The young priest stood up, face pale.

“father Bryant? Sir? Uh, is, was, well, I mean, did Brother Thomas resign because he was a child molester?”

Bryant exhaled noisily. O’Donovan noticed a vein jumped slightly in his face, but he smiled and put his hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “Yes, Brother Damon. That is why he resigned.”

“Did you know?”

“Know what, Brother Peck?

“That he was abusing the Larkin boys?” Peck shot a triumphant smirk toward O’Donovan, who ignored him.

O’Donovan closed his eyes and groaned softly. He willed himself to stay focus, not to remember, not to think about Michael and Father Martin. The past was past. There was no way he could change that.

“I did not know about the Larkin boys, until the came to me, and told me.”

“Why did you believe them, Father? It was their word against a priest’s.” O’Donovan stood up and straightened his cassock.

“This was not the first. Before Brother Thomas joined us at Trinity, I was alerted that he had abused boys in his previous parish.”

“And you let him come to a high school? That’s like leading the lambs out to slaughter!”

“Father O’Donovan, he had repented for his sins and changed his ways.”

“No disrespect for Brother Thomas, but obviously not.” O’Donovan pushed his dark hair from his eyes, the same move he had done since the age of fifteen.

“Brother Thomas was a good teacher and reformed from his wicked ways. If he had not been tempted by Luke Larkin, he would never have abused those boys.”

“So you’re blaming the victim now?”

“father O’Donovan, are you questioning my authority as principal at this school? The Brother Thomas I knew and loved was a good man, who cared deeply for his subject and students, and fought off this evil inside. However, three boys decided to lead him down a path, into sin, a path he could not resist. Why do you blame him? He was the victim. Do you think Brother Thomas will find a parish anywhere in New England? No. He’s going to have to move across the country, most likely, at the expense of the Catholic Church. Does anybody hold him at fault?”

O’Donovan sat back down. He had heard that one before as well, in Ireland. It was never the fault of the priest. The priest was always in the right, always safe, but the victim was never the same. God, he knew how that one worked out. Brother Thomas would get moved to another parish, one far away where they would not know about him, and the Larkin boys would live a life of deep shame.

“Did Brother Thomas resign, or was he fired?”

“Brother Thomas, willingly resigned from his position, because he was afraid of hurting more boys. He loved this school, but loved the boys even more, and thought it would be best for everyone involved.”

“Do the police know about this?” O’Donovan was shocked that Brother Damon, normally so withdrawn and quiet, could stand up and question Father Bryant, as if he was a reporter or police investigator.

“No. I do not think the police need to get involved. Brother Thomas has promised it will never happen again, and the boys told me that they have no interests in pressing charges. Why should the police get involved, if the victims have no interest in that sort of aid?”

Brother Damon sat down, flushed. His light blue eyes were brighter than normal and he chewed slightly at his lower lip, as if he was trying not to cry. Brother Peck patted his on the shoulder and whispered something in his ear. The young English teacher shook his head and looked down.

“Are there any more questions on Brother Thomas? Good. Now, onto the dance. Trinity is hosting a mixer with St. Catherine’s, that girls’ school on the other side of Boston. We will be hosting the dance in the cafeteria. The chaperones will be myself, obviously, Father O’Donovan, Brother Peck, Brother Roberts, and Brother Mason. Brother Roberts, you will be in charge of basic security and using the Breathalyzer. The rest of you, you will be in the cafeteria and patrolling the surrounding rooms. Make sure no couples sneak into the basement, hands remained visible at all times, and boys and girls have at least the length of your first between them when dancing. You all know the dress code for the young ladies, I presume? Very good. Is there anything else that needs to be discussed at this meeting? Brother Roberts?”

“It might just be me, but I’ve noticed a lot of boys wearing sports team shirts under their button downs. Is that uniform?”

“Technically there is nothing in the uniform book about the shirts boys can wear under their button downs. Is it a problem, this team shirt wearing? Have fights broken out because of it?”

“No, Father. They are all Boston teams.”

“Well, the Lord knows Boston teams need all the help they can get.” O’Donovan joined in the laughter on that one. He might have been born outside of Boston, but even he knew how much the city struggled, sports-wise.

“In the next detention, do you think five or so boys could clean the lab out. My A.P. chemistry class needs to do an experiment, but we need the lab organized.”

“Of course, Brother Woolf. Does anybody else need anything during the next detention? No? What else is there that we need to discuss. Yes, Father O’Donovan?”

“Some of the senior boys haze and bully the underclassmen.”

“At the senior class meeting, I’ll have Taylor give a speech concerning hazing and bullying, and that there is zero tolerance for such behavior. If such actions continue, I will take disciplinary actions towards the perpetrators. I want all of you to make it clear that we do not tolerate such behavior and actions at Trinity. Thank you, Father O’Donovan. Meeting adjourned.”

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