Reborn

3

Bill sat in his office and sipped a second cup of coffee while flipping through the Sunday Times. This was his favorite part of the week. The boys were all at breakfast and it was quiet. He had said early Mass at Our Lady of Lourdes and now had some time to himself. It was especially pleasurable today because "The Week in Review" section was full of news of the coming New Hampshire primary, just two days away, and how McCarthy was gaining on President Johnson. Not that anyone thought he could actually defeat the incumbent, but if he could make a decent showing, it could possibly influence the rest of the campaign and maybe the Democratic Party's stand on the war when convention time came around.

Bill sighed and stared out the window. More than ever, he wished he could be in New Hampshire for the next seventy-two hours. That wasn't to be. And he wasn't going to get near any of the other primaries if he didn't get on the stick and write those letters to the New York and Maryland Provincials.

He rolled a piece of paper into the old gray Olympia portable his folks had given him as a high-school graduation gift and began banging away. He was halfway through the first letter when he was interrupted by a timid knock on his office door.

"Father Ryan?"

It was Sister Miriam.

"Yes, Sister? Is something wrong?"

"I'm not sure." She held a folded newspaper in her hand and seemed unusually reticent. "Wasn't that friend of yours who was here a few weeks ago—the one who wanted to go through the records—wasn't his name Stevens?"

"Sure. Jim Stevens."

"Isn't he the one who inherited the Hanley estate?"

"That's him. Why do you ask?"

"Now, mind you, Father, I'm not the sort to buy this kind of trash on a regular basis," she said, unfolding the tabloid and extending it toward him, "but this paper has some very strange things to say about your friend and Dr. Hanley."

Bill took the paper and frowned when he saw the logo, The Light, and its notorious left ear, "The News That Hides From the Light of Day Can't Escape The Light." Sister Miriam was an exemplary member of the Sisters of Charity, but she had an addiction to gossip magazines and tabloids. The Light was just about the cheesiest member of the latter category.

"Jim Stevens is in here?" he said, opening to page three.

"I think that's who they're talking about."

He scanned the first paragraph and saw Jim's name, Roderick Hanley's, and Monroe, Long Island, mentioned. It looked like a long article.

"Can I give this back to you later, Sister?"

"Of course," she said in a conspiratorial tone, no doubt thinking she had won a convert. Then she left him alone with The Light.

Fifteen minutes later Bill had finished the article and was up and pacing his office, feeling rocky.

Bullshit! All bullshit! Has to be!

But the paper had to have a damn near unimpeachable source to dare print something this far out. Otherwise Jim would sue it for every cent it had. And then there was the matter of Carol's call last week, about Jim being so upset as he traced his mother's identity. Of course he would have been upset—if this article was true, it meant he didn't even have a mother. Or a father, either, for that matter!

What am I saying?

Of course it wasn't true! How could it be true? This was the stuff of science fiction!

But then again, Jim had been terribly upset on Tuesday.

Good Lord! He wondered if Jim had seen the article yet. Bill didn't want to be the one to tell him about it, but he wanted to be available if Jim needed a friend. And he was going to need a friend or two when the big papers and television got hold of this.

And what about Carol? She was probably hurting as much as Jim.

He dialed Jim's number but the line was busy. After three more futile tries he knew he had to get out to Monroe. Something told him he was going to be needed there.