Tully stood and stretched. “I hope I would’ve had the good sense to get some counseling. It was an accident, pure and simple; it was an accident whoever was driving. It could have been any one of the four of them. Fate. Kismet.
“I can see the temptation for Greg to accept much or even all of the responsibility. It was an open-and-shut case. There were a lot of factors working here. But in the final analysis it just happened to be Greg. But, okay, Greg drove the car and was the only survivor. I still don’t get the point.”
Koesler laughed. “You still haven’t let me finish.”
Tully walked away. “Oops, sorry. A problem I have.”
“Well, talk about your good news-bad news stories, this one has only one silver lining. And I’ll give it to you now.
“When Greg Thompson gave notice to the chancery that he was leaving, his bishop was livid. He stormed through the chancery blowing off steam. The chancery priests had never seen him so angry. He wanted, by damn, his pound of flesh!
“Toward that end, he ordered that, among other sanctions, Greg’s medical coverage insurance be cut off.
“The degree of anger and animosity the bishop felt for his priest speaks loudly for the perseverance and persuasion exercised by Thompson’s family. That they got the bishop to agree to even consider forgiveness and reinstatement is a minor-or maybe even a major-miracle.
“Anyway-and this is about the only good news-the priest who was supposed to terminate Thompson’s medical insurance took his sweet time about it.
“So when Greg was admitted to the hospital, his insurance was in effect; it covered his operations, as well as his subsequent rehabilitation therapy. If that lackadaisical chancery official had been on the ball, Greg would have had no medical coverage at all.”
Tully whistled. “The national debt!”
“Indeed. But, as I said, that was the end of the good news.”
“Not very much, is it?”
“A drop of water in an ocean. Mary Lou heard about the accident. She tried every which way to get in touch with him. She really-desperately-wanted to help. She thought maybe-against her better judgment-that they might possibly get together again, and somehow make it work. In a macabre moment, she even considered it a blessing of sorts that his family would not be around to interfere in their lives.
“But Greg was having none of it. He would neither see nor talk to her.
“With all the operations he had, it was not difficult to brush aside Mary Lou and, in fact, just about everyone else. His doctors said it would have been easier to identify the parts of his body that hadn’t been injured than to catalog his injuries. On top of all that, he was suffering from acute depression. That, of course, was to be expected. What the doctors did not recognize was how threatening this was.
“But eventually, the time came when Greg was able to function on his own-to a degree.
“The car that he’d left with Mary Lou had been returned. He got on the freeway as quickly as he could. It was late morning, and the drivetime traffic had mostly let up. As soon as he saw his way clear, he floored the accelerator.
“He attracted four police cars. It was quite a chase. He was clocked at something in excess of ninety miles an hour when he left the highway.”
“Left the …?”
“The expressway veered to the left. Greg kept going straight. He was airborne. This time when he hit a tree, he didn’t live to say what he was thinking.”
There was silence for several moments.
“I guess,” Tully said, “it’s pretty clear: He was thinking of suicide.”
“That’s the point,” Koesler said. “Priests, especially today, stress the forgiveness, compassion, and love God has for us. A long time ago, when I was growing up, the emphasis was on sin and punishment. Back then, eschatology, the study of the last things, embraced death, judgment, heaven, hell, and purgatory. And the only positive part of the study was heaven.
“It’s almost as if Greg were back in a preceding era.
“But it’s not just the story itself; it’s Delvecchio’s preoccupation with it-”
“Wait a minute: Is this supposed to be a true story?”
Koesler shrugged. “I don’t really know. Vince creates the impression that it’s true … but he’s never flat-out claimed that it actually happened. I don’t know,” he repeated. “It’s such a bizarre tale you’d think more people would know about it-I mean, if it actually took place … wouldn’t you?”
“I think so,” Tully said thoughtfully. “I can’t recall having heard about anything like that. It would have to have been in the papers somewhere-wherever it happened-and in any case, a story like that would’ve made it around the clerical grapevine …”
“I think that whether the story actually happened doesn’t matter; it’s the effect the story has had on Vince that’s important. I’ve tried to go over it lots of times to test its moral. Because, clearly, that’s what bugs Vincent.
“And I think it has to do with that old saw: Mortal sin is the greatest evil in the world.”
“How could you argue with a premise like that?” Tully said. “Mortal sin is such a big umbrella. It’s murder and embezzlement and scandal and on and on. If you figure that hell awaits the serious sinner, and that a serious sinner makes a hell on earth for the victim of serious sin, then you’d have to agree that mortal sin is the greatest evil in the world … wouldn’t you?”
“Well, there are a lot of distinctions that have to be made. But, yes: Properly defined, it is the great evil. But see what Vincent’s story does: Greg, in the story, makes serious sin contagious!
“Contagious?”
“No,” Koesler corrected himself, “not contagious; I think more likely Vince sees mortal sin as a contaminating agent. This story is a favorite of his. It means something very important and special to him. So I’m taking a flier that I can analyze Vinnie through analyzing his story.
“The story begins with Greg and Mary Lou having an affair. Mary Lou is ready and willing to call it off if Greg doesn’t do the ‘honorable’ thing and marry her. Greg simply cannot let her go, so he takes her away with him.
“Then his parents and sister come to bring him home-away from ‘a life of sin.’ He changes his mind and leaves Mary Lou. She’s no longer living with anyone. Her life has opened up. She may marry and live a virtuous life.
“But sin still dogs Greg. Even as he drives home with his family, he is open to the possibility of another affair. It is, in Vince’s mind, this state of mortal sin that contaminates everything around Greg. And it’s that contamination that takes three innocent lives.
“Nor does it spare Greg. Driven by the wretched life he’s been living, he commits suicide …”
“… the ‘unforgivable sin,’ the ‘sin against the holy spirit’ … the ‘greatest evil,’” Tully summed up.
“Exactly,” Koesler affirmed. “And don’t you see: It goes back to Vince’s uncle and his suicide.”
“The way Delvecchio sees it, his uncle is responsible for his aunt’s living in the state of mortal sin,” Tully mused. “They are not canonically married. And it’s his uncle’s fault.
“He commits suicide,” Koesler concluded. “So Delvecchio has history repeating itself. In fact or in fiction … depending, that is, on whether the story is fact or fiction.”
“Then …” Tally’s brow knitted. “… how does he twist this so it pertains to me?”
“Hmmm.” Koesler pondered. “Well, look at it this way,” he said finally. “If you could creep into Delvecchio’s mind-”
“I’d rather not.”
“If you were to creep into Delvecchio’s way of thinking,” Koesler plowed on, “this Profession of Faith and Oath of Fidelity is essential to the Catholic faith-”
“How could they be essential? They’re not part of the deposit of faith. My God, if that were the case, Paul, arguably the greatest and most influential of the Apostles, would not be part of the infant Church. Far from taking an oath of fidelity to the Pope, Paul corrected Peter, the first Pope!”
