Easter night, once the Exsultet is sung, only the lights around the altar come on. Jeff Cordino steps up to do the first reading.
“In the beginning, when God created the heavens and the earth—and the earth was without form or shape, with darkness over the abyss and a mighty wind sweeping over the waters—Then God said: Let there be light, and there was light...”
And of course, Easter night is the beginning, and so the beginning of all things is read. As the readings go one, and there are many of them, more lights come on in the church. Between each reading the choir chants the the psalms. Russell’s voice rises in a solo.
“As the deer longs for running water, my soul thirst for you!”
If God is sanity, if he is clarity, if he is love without selfishness, then Russell’s soul does thirst for Him. He almost feels that he has him…
Kristin and Reese remained in town a few more days, awaiting the the return of RL’s ashes. When Graham Kandzierski brings them himself, in a plastic box with a label, the final remains of Russell Lewis, Russell shudders a little, but give them to his grandmother who says, “Thank you. Fresh out of the oven.”
There is little debate about who will keep them. Everyone seems to think they should go to Kristin.
“But I don’t want them. I don’t think anyone should have them. Let’s just scatter them.”
Russell calls Gilead to tell him the ashes are here and they’re all scattering them in Finallay Park. Gilead says, “That’s where I am. With Mark.”
“Tell them they can join us,” Thom says. “If they want to. I mean, I can’t see why they’d want to, but…”
They do join, and Brad and Nehru come with Cody. Russell tries not to let his mind wonder what sex looks like with them. He imagines it looks like that night when something came over him and he seduced Ralph and Jason.
It’s windy, and on a hill, Kristin, and then Thom and then Jackie spill the ashes. Finn has already gone home, saying that RL is gone too so why stay? It comes back to Kristin, and then the wind lifts and Thom coughs as grey white ashes blow into his face.
“Bye, Dad,” he says, wiping his face and wiping grit from his hair.
“This is where I came,” Mark says to Gilead.
“I ran all the way here the day Joe died. The day I survived. I screamed and screamed. I thought I’d never be okay.”
Gilead does not say, because he has said it before, that Brad Long had seen it and told them, that hearing it, this was the day he’d known he loved Mark, but he felt like he wanted to hold him. It was the only thing that had made him go to that funeral. Now he just poked Mark’s hip, and made him smile, lifted him gently from the contemplation that sometimes went too dark.
Russell remembered what Father Branch had said. In the last few days there was so much going on, but after Kristin and Reese left, and Jackie and John were headed back to Port Gregory, Russell said, “Dad, who is Bob Wynant?”
“What?” Thom looked at Russell as if he’d said something in Chinese. But no, it was as if he’d said something in Chinese, and Russell should not have known that Thom knew Chinese too.
“Bob Wynant? Father Branch asked me to ask you who Bob Wynant was.”
“I haven’t heard that name in years.”
“I haven’t heard it ever,” Patti said.
“Bob Wynant was your Dad’s best friend in high school,” Kathleen said.
“Well, sort of,” Tom sort of agreed. “I mean, we fell out after junior year. Not fell out like fought, just fell out of touch. He got other friends. Maybe I did too. It’s hard to remember. I wonder why Branch…”
Thom lifted a finger and went upstairs. It wasn’t long before he returned with what Russell knew was a yearbook. It was a lot more tacky than the ones they used now at OLM, dark blue fake leather done up with fake gold, and Thom thumbed through it.
“Bob!” Thom shook his head.
Russell let his mother have a look first, and he observed as she said it, “He looks just like you.”
“Or Finn,” Thom said.
“He’s got the O’Donnell face,” Kathleen said. “That’s how Thom knew him. He helped Tommy lose his accent when we first came up here. The Wynants were my cousins. On my mother’s mother’s side. Bob was some type of cousin. He was younger than me, obviously, but his great grandmother was the sister of my great grandmother.”
“So not related at all,” Russell said.
“Well, that O’Donnell face always pops up,” Kathleen said. “And we were the kind of family that made cousins out of everyone. It’s a mountain thing.”
“Spitting image,” Patti marveled, shaking her head.
“We did not look that much alike,” Thom insisted.
“No, Dad,” Russell said. “You did.”
“Still,” Thom wondered, “why would Branch ask you to ask about him?”
“I dunno, Dad. Father Branch is a mystery.”
Thom shook his head and laughed.
“He sure in the shit is.”
“At daybreak on the first day of the week the women who had come from Galilee with Jesus took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.
They found the stone rolled away from the tomb;” Father Branch read. “But when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus...”
Saint Adjeanet was filled with light and dense with incense while they stood to hear the priest read:
“While they were puzzling over this, behold, two men in dazzling garments appeared to them. They were terrified and bowed their faces to the ground. They said to them, ‘Why do you seek the living one among the dead? He is not here, but he has been raised. Remember what he said to you while he was still in Galilee, that the Son of Man must be handed over to sinners and be crucified, and rise on the third day.’
“And they remembered his words. Then they returned from the tomb and announced all these things to the eleven and to all the others. The women were Mary Magdalene, Joanna, and Mary the mother of James; the others who accompanied them also told this to the apostles, but their story seemed like nonsense and they did not believe them.’”
Puzzled. Nonsense. Terrified. Remember, remember what he said. They remembered. The truth seemed as nonsense. These words moved about like the incense. They were the substance of his faith. And he did believe. He knew that now. He believed more than ever.
“Father, can I talk to you?” Russell demanded, skidding to a stop on the fourth floor and catching his breath.
“Mr. Lewis, you used to have more manners. You clearly see me speaking to Mr. Story and Mr. Young.”
“Sorry guys,” Russell said to his friends.
“It’s alright,” Gilead said, “we interrupted him too.”
“Yes, apparently I put out the air of someone who wants to be consulted by the young. So, what is it, Russell?”
“Bob Wynant. He was Dad’s best friend.”
“Yes.”
“And then they stopped talking. Stopped being friends.”
“That’s not a surprise.”
“But Dad said he didn’t know why.”
“That’s also not a surprise.”
“Wait,” Mark said, “so like, you knew Russell’s dad when he was a student here?”
“Yes,” the priest said.
“That was a long time ago! You must be—”
Michael Branch eyed Mark, and Mark put a hand over his mouth.
“It was twenty years ago, and one day you’ll learn twenty years isn’t that long of a time. And what’s your question, Russell, even if I bet I can’t answer it?”
“My question is: why did you have me ask Dad about him?”
“That,” Father Branch said, “is a matter for the confessional.”
“Can’t you get around the confessional?” Russell asked. “After twenty years.”
“Ask your friend Cody to ask his mother if she remembers Bob.”
“What?” Russell cried. “Father, can’t you just?”
“Bonehead,” Gilead smacked Russell in the head. “Can’t you see?”
Russell looked at his friend.
“Father Branch is getting around the confessional as much as he can.”
Russell felt stupid, like the answer was right in front of him, but for some reason he couldn’t see it.
Mark Young said to Father Branch, “This Bob guy came to you cause he felt guilty for sleeping with his best friend’s girl. You think he’s Cody’s dad? Don’t you?”
Russell’s mouth hung open, more because it was so obvious he couldn’t believe how stupid he was being, but Father Branch said. “Behind that door is my private apartment which I was on my way to.”
He unlocked and opened the heavy wooden door which the few students who came to the fourth floor often passed without comment, went in, stuck his head out then said, “Goodnight.”
And shut the door firmly in the boys’ faces.
“Well,” Justine Barnard said, “I never expected that to come out.”
Thom blinked at her.
“You don’t even seem fazed.”
“Tommy, it was over twenty years ago,” the red headed woman said.
Russell kept thinking how much different her forty looked from his dad’s or his mom’s. This woman had led a life that probably stopped her from being shocked by anything anymore.
“Alright,” Jill said, plopping herself on the sofa, “so I feel like I need the whole story, because first Cody was the son of my father, and then of Russell’s and now… not?”
“And why did you not bring that up at Christmas?” Cody said, for the first time in Russell’s experience sounding angry.
“Because I just didn’t think it could be,” Justine said.
“You were sleeping with both of us at the same time,” Thom said in disgust.
“No,” Justine said. “Not exactly.”
“Then please tell me what happened,” Thom said. “Exactly.”
“I told you I was leaving, and we broke up. You said there was no sense in us staying together then. I don’t know if you remember, but you were real shitty about it, like it was my fault. So I said, fine. I was okay with that.”
“I don’t remember it that way,” Thom said firmly. He didn’t say it like he didn’t believe Justine. He said it in surprise.
“I do,” Justine said. “And that was when Bob happened. Bob happened a few times.”
“It’s not like we broke up that far from you leaving.”
“No,” Justine said. “It’s not. And then, and then I had my period. I must have.”
“Must have?”
“Yes, because that’s the only way I would come to my conclusion. And that’s when you showed up to apologize. And one thing led to another. And then you were gone and I left.”
“But if Mom had her period, then this other guy doesn’t matter,” Jill said.
“If she had a period,” Anigel said.
“Huh?”
“Caroline bled with both kids after she was pregnant. You can’t have a real period, but you can bleed when your pregnancy is just starting out. And imagine you’re fifteen, not even sixteen, and you loved one person and not the other. Wouldn’t you think they were your baby’s daddy?”
Russell didn’t dare to look at Cody. Cody could be his brother or his umpteenth millionth cousin twice removed. He didn’t think he could stay away from him. He didn’t want to. He didn’t care about what was going on with him and Nehru and Brad, or what was happening with Flipper. He felt his head thumping in his ears.
“Cody,” Thom clasped the brown haired boy’s hand, “you will always be a part of my family, and I’m going to feel like a dad to you no matter what, but… do you wanna know for sure?”
“Yes,” said Cody.
