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“It was a joke, Parker,” I said, rubbing my arm.
“About my age,” she said.
“My bad,” I said. “How about a toast?” I said, raising my coffee cup. “To history repeating itself.”
“Hear, hear,” Parker said, tapping Styrofoam. “To Perrine in a body bag.”
CHAPTER 35
THE MORNING AFTER HIS dad left, Brian Bennett opened his eyes as he heard soft footsteps in the hallway. After a moment, the bedroom door slowly opened and Grandpa Seamus poked his head in.
Uh-oh. Chore time. Has to be, Brian thought, immediately shutting his eyes and making what he hoped was a natural-sounding snore.
“You’re up, Brian. Excellent,” Seamus whispered as he tugged hard on Brian’s earlobe. “Get dressed and grab Eddie and Jane, would you? I need to talk to you goslings in the kitchen about something.”
“Are we in trouble?” Brian whispered back. “I already told Mary Catherine I was sorry about the strike, about a thousand times.”
“No, no. It’s nothing like that,” Seamus said. “I just need to talk to you. You have five minutes. Move your butt.”
Seamus had an apron on over his priest suit and had some scrambled-egg tortillas waiting for them when they entered the kitchen. Brian hesitated at the door when he smelled the bacon. Bacon was trouble. The bribe of bacon meant they were about to be made to do something even more heinous than he had imagined.
“There you are! Carpe diem! Come in now, Brian. Be not afraid,” Seamus said.
“What’s up, Gramps?” Brian said, finally taking a seat.
“Funny you ask that question, Brian,” Seamus said, raising his bacon fork. “I just got a call from my priest friend in town. Father Walter needs help in accomplishing a corporal work of mercy this morning, and I think I’ve found just the people for the job.”
I knew it, Brian thought, rubbing his tired eyes. All aboard. Next stop, Chore City. He wasn’t sure what the word corporal meant, but work was something he had become infinitely familiar with in the family’s rural exile.
“Now,” Seamus said jovially, “who can tell me what the corporal works of mercy are?”
“Visit imprisoned people like us,” Brian mumbled.
“Very good, Brian. Visit the imprisoned. Anyone else?”
“Um, clothe the naked?” Eddie said, trying to keep a straight, pious face, and failing.
“Yes, Eddie. Clothe the naked. Why did I think you of all people would remember that one? Anyone else?”
“Feed the hungry,” Jane said, eyeing the bacon.
“Bingo, Jane. Feed the hungry. That’s the one Father Walter needs our help with. Father just received a large shipment of donated canned goods and needs help with distribution. We have to go to the rectory and run the supplies over to a remote food bank in a tiny, poor part of the county and dole them out. I thought it would be a nice opportunity for the three of you. I know you’ve been complaining about not getting out.”
“But what about Dad?” Eddie said. “Didn’t he say we have to stay on the farm? No exceptions?”
“I’m in charge, Eddie,” Seamus said, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “People need our help, and we’re going to help them. Evil wins when good men do nothing.”
“We’re not men, though, Gramps. We’re kids,” Brian complained. “And I thought you said we weren’t in trouble.”
Seamus smiled as he lifted a pan off the stove and brought it over.
“Thanks for volunteering to help, Brian,” he said as he piled some bacon onto Brian’s plate.
“There’s a special place in heaven for young saints like yourself.”
CHAPTER 36
THE FOOD BANK WAS in a little town called Sunnyville, a few miles south of Susanville.
