Perhaps it would do him good, Father Nolan tried to reason. Jamie was an unusually appealing little boy, with his bright wheat-colored hair, his large golden-hazel eyes very solemn for his age, quiet, but when he smiled it broke your heart, Father Nolan thought … he got that from his mother. The nuns had a reputation for strictness, but surely they’d be kind to him. The two people he trusted most had lied to him.įather Nolan straightened. Jamie stood stunned, trying to adjust to his second great betrayal that week. After all the fights he’d had because of her-because he had no dad-and she too, had promised him, I won’t leave you, Jamie. His mother had whispered, Take care of Jamie, and Father Nolan whispered, Yes.'Īnd now the priest was handing him over to this stranger.īut Jamie’s throat tightened. 'But you promised Colleen you’d take care of me, Jamie wanted to say-he’d been there, he had heard. What was happening? Father Nolan was supposed look after him now. Jamie looked from the sad dark eyes to the impatiently waiting nun. You’ll be with other boys who have no parents, well-looked after, you’ll go to school.

It’s time to go with Sister Mary Joseph now.

And it certainly isn’t permanent …įather Nolan knelt, put his hands on Jamie’s shoulders. It was just the Christian thing to do, she said, while Colleen was in the hospital. Jamie had known the tall, white-haired priest all his life, and he was tired of staying with the Carters next door. He had dreaded this moment for a week now, since the visit that confirmed his worst fears-the girl wasn’t sick but dying. Well, is this everything? Her voice was brisk, businesslike. Wartimes aren’t like other times.įather Nolan knew he had been too lenient with his parish during the war, but life had been harsh enough then … surely any expression of love … He was a good, decent boy, killed in the Pacific in defense of his country. Both he and the mother were in my parish. The boy-conceived in adultery, born in sin-he’ll need special supervision. Father Nolan and the strange nun were looking over Jamie’s few possessions.

He tried to ignore the conversation going on behind him in the now-empty apartment. Now he was going to have to go somewhere else and show a whole new group of kids. They called him a bastard and he’d shown them he didn’t care, by not crying. He’d shown them he was tough, agile, and no patsy, fighting. He was small for eight years old, but he’d shown them he was fast, with fighting. He should be down there, playing, he thought. The boy sat in the open window and watched the baseball game in the vacant lot across the street.

Hawkes harbor book