Thaddeus. See—well, hear—you on Friday." Father Secco hung up the phone and, whistling a favorite hymn as he walked the last six blocks, thought ...bout his plan. Saturday mornings were so incredibly dull in the confessional. St. Jude Thaddeus was the only parish in the state that still used the little booths. All the others had long since switched to a more open, face-to-face practice. For three solid hours he sat in that dark, cramped closet just waiting for someone to step in to its neighbor.. He sat down beside me. I kicked and screamed on the bed but it was useless. "Yes, it was just a misunderstanding." He explained it was a false alarm, sounding totally convincing while I gasped for air. He pushed me in harder until I stopped thrashing, till I was quiet. I also couldn't breathe. I was under the water. My mother's hands held my shoulders, gripping and bony. I watched her mottled image through my open eyes, the soap stung a little. I started to float, and the pain lessened. . More

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