Jack Pryor seemed a little shaken while his wife watched attentively as he spoke on the phone in the front hall of the Pryor home in Philadelphia. He had nodded his head a few times, and she listened carefully to his words as he spoke to his younger brother Pete on the other end of the line.
"Okay Pete," Jack nodded again. "I understand. Do whatever you can, and we'll see what we can do on this end. Thanks."
Carefully he returned the phone to its cradle and looked up at his wife.
After a few moments of no words, Helen spoke for him. "The police can't help, can they?"
"Richie," Jack wiped his face with frustration as he spoke. "He is a grown adult who has the right to come and go as he pleases, and unless he is missing for well over twenty four hours, there is little that the police can do."
"What do we do now?" She asked with a worried brow.
"We wait to see if he shows up," Jack returned. "If not here, then at the Greyhound station in the morning. If he doesn't make his bus, then we will have a reason to worry."
"But what about tonight?" She added to her inquiry. "Its getting cold out there, and he may not have anywhere to stay until morning."
"I know," Jack sighed as they stood staring at each other. "I have a feeling that Richie wasn't planning on having to spend all his money on a hotel while he was here. I think he used whatever he had left to buy the ticket, and now he has no money for a room."
"We need to find him, Jack," she frowned. "He can sleep in the boys room."
"How do we do that, Helen?" His voice raised an octave. "As mad as I am at Richie, I don't want my brother sleeping in the gutter anymore than you do, but I don't know where he is. Pete said he would take a few rides by the hotel and the bus station and let us know if he sees him, but there is little else I can do."
"We could go looking for him ourselves," the eldest son, JJ's voice came from the stairwell behind them as he made his way back to the lower level. "We could put our heads together and try and think of a few places he might have gone, and then go look there."
"JJ," Jack started with a haggard tone. "I'm not sure we should be killing ourselves over this. Your Uncle has always had a thing for being dramatic, and he is very well capable of taking care of himself. He got himself all the way up here from Virginia on his own, and he should be able to find his way back just the same."
"But Dad," JJ protested. "Uncle Richie has never been suffering the effects of a broken back before. Between the pain of that and his hopelessness about being rejected again, there is no telling what he is capable of."
"What are you getting at, JJ?" Helen asked softly. "Did he saying something to you that would make you think he might purposely hurt himself?"
"No," JJ shook his head and looked away. "I'm just worried."
Jack glanced over at his wife and saw that she too was concerned for both her brother in law and her son. He stood silently for a few seconds, and then he placed his hand on JJ's shoulder. "Where do you think he might have gone?"
"I'm not sure," JJ replied still looking down at his hands. "I never got to know him as well as I wanted to. I'm not sure where he would have gone when he was upset and alone."
The silence weighed heavy between them as each of them thought of some possible place that Richie could have considered a safe haven and a place to spend the night. The air was stiff, and each of their breathing patterns could be heard distinctly until Jack finally broke the silence again.
"Saint Catherine's," he spoke softly. "Richie always loved to go to Saint Catherine's when he was upset."
"But Jack," Helen questioned. "After all the horrible things that happen to him there, why would he go back?"
"We both knew that as long as we stayed in the sanctuary, that Father O'Malley would not touch us," Jack explained. "I guess even though he was perverse, he would not violate the sanctity of the church with his dirty deeds. He would always wait or try and lure us back into the private chambers behind alter and into the parsonage before he would do anything."
Helen placed her arm around her husband as a quirky smile came to his face. "We got pretty good as listening for O'Malley's footsteps, then Richie and I would slip into one of the confessionals and hide. I always thought Richie was just playing the game with me, but I know now that he was trying to hide from O'Malley for the same reason I was."
"Jack," She placed her head on his shoulder.
"So do you think he would go there?" JJ asked with worried eyes.
"It's all I can think of, JJ," Jack returned. "There is no telling how much his way of thinking has changed, but when he was here, I knew Richie better than he knew himself, so that is where he would have gone."
"Then let's go there," JJ picked up the keys from the small telephone table with a hint of excitement.
Jack stood firm a few moments, and then he said, "I'm not going JJ."
A look of bewilderment came across his son's face. "I don't understand," JJ spoke. "I thought once Meg explained why he came back here to see us, that you would be able to get past this anger you have for him."
"It's not that simple, JJ," Jack defended himself. "Even if I am pass some of those things, I can't go and meet with your Uncle at Saint Catherine's. Not now that I know what happen to both us of there. I can't relive those memories."
"So you are just going to give up on him again?" JJ asked with disgust. "You are just going to let him leave again with out trying one last time to make things right?"
"I can't do it, Jackie," Jack protested looking away.
"But he won't come back here unless you come with me," JJ told his father as his voice cracked. "He won't believe that you have had a change of heart unless you show up with me."
"I'm not that sure I have had a change of heart, son," Jack said under his breath.
"What?" JJ let out with a gasp.
"I understand why he came back here, and why he needs to have the family again," Jack continued. "But it doesn't change anything about why he left and the anger I still feel inside."
"But Dad," JJ started as Jack held up his hand to silence him.
"I've said it all along, JJ," the elder Pryor spoke firmly. "I can not and will not stop you from having a relationship with your uncle if that is what you want, but I won't disregard my own feelings and welcome him back with open arms. There is too much between us for me to just ignore. I'm sorry."
JJ stood shifting his weight from leg to leg for a few minutes as he thought silently. He finally looked up again. "I'm sorry too Dad, but I have to go. I need to see him, even if it's for the last time."
"I'm not stopping you, JJ," Jack said looking deeply into his son's eyes. "Just be sure that you are ready to have your uncle rip your heart out again before you get there. Because Richie is only good at one thing, and that is disappointing the people who love him."
"If JJ is going," Meg came from behind Jack and Helen. "Then I'm going with him."
Moving aside to let his daughter through, Jack only nodded his head once as a reply. The two teens placed their jackets on and made there way out the door.
Helen stopped them just as they stood on the front stoop. "JJ and Meg," she called out as they turned back. "Please promise me that you will both be careful."
"We will, Mom," JJ assured her.
She placed her hand on his cheek. "Don't be mad at your father, JJ. He's trying as best as he can with this. He needs a little more time."
"I know," he returned with a polite smile. "I'll call if we decide to spend any time with Uncle Richie."
"Okay," Helen agreed. "I'll keep a plate warm just incase you want to eat when you get back."
Again JJ nodded, and he and his sister Meg disappeared into the darkness of the street light just outside of the Pryor house. She watched as the station wagon backed out of the driveway and disappeared down the road.
Saint Catherine's was a very large gothic aged stonemason building on the east side of Philadelphia that sat between a new shopping plaza and a row of tenement apartments. The steeple on the front right side of the building stood nearly seven stories high and could be seen from blocks away. The old structure had stood since shortly after the turn of the nineteenth century. It had become a place of comfort and meditation for thousands who had come before, but for Richie Pryor, who stood on the windy cold sidewalk just outside, it had become a place of horrible memories and a past better left unvisited.
Most would have turned and walked away if they had experienced the horrors that he and his brother had lived through in this place, and for the past twelve years, the haggard man who stood staring, had been able to do that, but tonight, he had nowhere else to go. A week before the anniversary of his wife and son's deaths, he stood before the very place that had contributed to his upbringing and his ultimate down fall.
Taking one last gulp of the cool crisp air, Richie reached for the handle of the large dark mahogany door and found that the building, just as it had been in the days of his youth, was unlocked. He slowly made his way into the darken vestibule.
The grandeur of the sanctuary just beyond another set of large heavy doors took his breath slightly as he heard his thundering steps echo through the huge building across the hardwood floors. Little had changed in the past twelve years other than the fact that the many rows of pews were now beginning to show their age with the warned seat marks brushed into each spot over the centuries of usage. Each of the sidewalls was lined with enormous stained glass window depicting various biblical events. Between each set of windows were small replica statues with each telling a step of the walk our savior Jesus Christ made on his way to Calvary before, during and after he was hung on the cross. These small statues and their set places were known as the 'stations of the cross', and each had a special place and prayer for those who wished to fallow the chain of events. Much like the rosary beads, these were a sign and a set moment for prayer.
There were also various stations around the room where there were larger statues set up for the saints of great value and importance to the catholic church such as the blessed mother Mary, Saint Jude, Saint Peter, the sacred heart depiction of Jesus, Saint Catharine and a small host of other Saints known only to the most devout Catholic. They were each surrounded with a bed of cascading candles that could be burned in reverence to each saint and as a token of the prayer made for the aid of that Saint's blessing.
Walking down the wide center aisle, Richie remembered back at his time when he would fallow the set course of these prayer chains and needs each morning before dawn when he was a priest and each night before retiring to his chambers for more silent and personal prayers. Even as a child, the importance of Catholic rituals and set prayers had been engraved into his young mind, and to this day, he could still recite each and every word of the set poem like readings.
As his steps approached the front, his eyes drifted to the large alter area before him where the large table with the crisp white lining cloth draped across it with the big Bible set atop with three purple sashes bookmarks placed among it's pages to mark the places where they would be read from during each communion service. Behind the table were three very Victorian chairs with high backs and find ornamentation details on each part of the gold painted woodwork. Beside these were a set of two smaller and bench like seats where the alter boys would sit waiting to perform their duties for the priest at each set moment. A small grin came to his lips as he remembered a very young set of Pryor brothers sitting restlessly waiting for each portion of the service to go by and nervously trying to remember their places and specific duties.
More from and old habit than from a desire, Richie rested his hand against the front pew and bent one knee bowing slightly before the alter, as he had been trained to do for the first twenty something years of his life. With great effort after performing this act while his braces held him stiff and with pain, we slipped into the seat and let out a great sigh of relief at being able to sit down after such a long time. In great relief and joy to take in the slightly scented air, his head cocked back, and he could see the great handy work above him.
The ceilings were well over thirty feet high at the peak down the center of the church. Though out the sanctuary, the walls were lined with large pillars that ran up the walls and followed the up climb of the ceiling. Down each side closer to the center, where a matching set of columns that met up with their mate along the wall and formed a large pointed arch between them and then another arch that ran down the center. There were about ten of these arches on either side that were spaced about fifteen feet apart at the walls, and about the same as they cross through the center of the building. The arches were decorated with great works of crafted woodwork, which added to the great ornamentation of the large hall. All these arches could only lead the eye to follow their approach to the alter where high above was set a dome shape ceiling painted with great care and skill. The portrait was of the blessed savior of his ascension into the glowing rays from heaven as a dove was released from his hands and angels with flowing wings and robes of draped white cloths surrounded him. At his feet were the saints of old who marveled at his rising to the throne of heaven.
Following the wall down behind the seating on the alter, there was a large gold plated cabinet like box where the sacraments of wine and the small white disc known as host were kept before blessing and in between services. Off to the left was the podium where the word of the Lord and the sermon would be read. The alter was also surrounded by candles, and at the center point, hanging from the ceiling and held firmed by thin cables from each side, just above and behind the head of the priest where he would sit, was a large seven foot crucifix with a large replica of Jesus hanging on the cross.
To a novice, the beauty and regal stance of the room was breathtaking. To Richie who had marveled at these displays many times before, it was a small piece of home and comfort to his soul from a youth long since gone, if not ripped away. His eyes continued to roam as he saw the two large phone booth like objects on either side of the alter where there were three compartments. Two small rooms where you could kneel and a small light just outside would light up to let others know that you were there, and in the center was a slightly larger compartment where the priest would sit and open a small grid window between the boxes on either side, to hear your confessions that would be atoned by reciting the number of prescribed set prayers once you were back in the sanctuary.
Then, as if a cold artic wind had descended from nowhere, a chill ran up his spine as his eyes came across the small wooden door next to the confessional at the right of the alter and just behind the pulpit. This was the door, which lead to the most harrowed of places in Richie youth. Behind this door were the private chambers that few would enter. It was where the priest would ready himself and the alter boys for each service. It was also where they would spend much of the time they were here outside of the actual mass. A shaking hand ran across his face as he remembered that this was also the place where Father O'Malley would take them into the small sitting room, and convince them that they were serving the Lord and each other, by allowing him to have his way with them. In the small cubical size room with nothing more than two arm chairs, a small table, and some discarded relics from the church's past, the elder man would defile and destroy the little boy that was inside of each of his victims until they could not even consider the thought of resisting and would eventually give in to his crude advances over and over again. It was in this room, that Richie learned to hide within himself.
For several minutes, he allowed these bewildered thoughts to consume him as all the pain, sorrow and shame from those many afternoon or torment at Father O'Malley's hand festered inside his soul. His hand shook ever the more feverishly as his hand brushed across his sweating forehead. He tried desperately not to allow the memories to consume him, but by this point, it was already too late, and they began to burn a hole into his very soul. Tears began to trickle down his face and Richie leaned forward onto the pew before him weeping while all the while whispering a forgiving prayer to his God in heaven.
The prayer and crying had gone on for a while in the silent and emptied church, and Richie was so engrossed in his own thoughts, that he did not hear the doors open or the distinct double set of footsteps make their way towards him. He simply kept his head down, and continued to pray in a soft tone.
The utter hushed vale over the room was torn when the footsteps stopped and a hand was felt on his left shoulder with a soft voice echoing through the chambers. "Uncle Richie?"
With a start, Richie raised his head to see a very worried set of teenagers looking down on him. JJ and Meg Pryor had figured out where to look and found their outcast of an uncle.
"JJ, Meg," Richie wiped away a few stray tears quickly. "What are you doing here? Is everything okay? How did you find me?" His questions traveled through the stiff air.
"Dad actually told us where you might be," JJ spoke first with a low voice. "We called the hotel, and they said you had already checked out."
"Yeah," Richie looked away. "I spent what was left of my money on a bus ticket."
"Where are you going to spend the night?" Meg asked with concern.
"Well," Richie forced a small smile. "I had thought of the bus station, but after what I saw it in broad daylight this afternoon, I decided that I would be much safer if I came here for the evening."
"You don't have to stay here," JJ added as his hands gave way to welcoming gestures from inside his jacket pockets. "You could always come and stay the night at our house."
"That's nice Jackie," Richie's smile was real this time. "But I don't think it would be a very good idea. It would be too hard on your father, so it's best to just stay out of his way until I can get home tomorrow."
"But Dad said we could invite you," Meg spoke up quickly. "He wants you to come home with us."
Richie eyed his niece carefully taking note of her words. "Did he send you two here to get me?"
"Well," JJ shuffled his feet. "Not in so many words, but he did say you were welcome to come back with us."
Turning his head away to stare down at his hands, Richie's eyes seemed to glaze over again. "If Jack had really wanted me to come back to his house, then he would have showed up on his own. Your father has never been shy with saying what he thinks. At least not with me."
"Please Uncle Richie," JJ slipped into the pew next to him. "We want you to be there, and isn't that enough for now?"
"I wish it were, Jackie," Richie sighed. "I just can't risk the possibility of having to deal with another run in with your father right now. I still care too much to see that hatred in his eyes towards me."
"He doesn't hate you," Meg insisted taking a place on the pew in front of them and turning to speak. "He just doesn't know how to react to everything that has happen."
Her word's sparked his attention and Richie looked up at her.
"I told them," Meg said sheepishly. "I told them what you told me about your wife and Robby."
"You should have told us earlier," JJ added. "It might have made a difference in how Dad reacted in seeing you again."
"That's why I didn't, Jackie," Richie replied with a small huff. "What ever happened, I wanted it to be honest between your father and me, and I didn't want him accepting me out of pity our some type of guilt. I wanted Jack to see that his brother was returning to him, and not some shattered man who needed his comfort and understanding again."
"Okay," JJ looked away with anguish. "Then why didn't you at least tell me?"
"Because of that look that is on your face right now," Richie reached up and turned his nephews face back towards him. "Because I didn't want you to have that same hurt stare in your eyes that you do right now. Not just the pity, Jackie, but the desire of wanting to do something when you know there is nothing that could be done."
Richie released his chin, and this time looked away him self. "It's the reason I couldn't say goodbye to your face like I promised. I couldn't say goodbye to that face, knowing that I may never see it again. I couldn't see that same hurt look in my son's eyes again."
Meg gave JJ a questionable glance. She then turned to her uncle again. "Your son's face?"
"Robby," Richie said with great grief. "I told you in the note JJ," he looked up. "Robby reminded me allot of you. I don't understand how it happened since Jack and I don't look a whole lot alike, but some how; Robby was born looking a lot like a younger version of his cousin. He had the same complexion and hair color, and most of the time had his own identity, but when he was upset, anguished or sad, then I could swear he was the identical of you." He placed a warm hand on the side of JJ's cheek. "I had almost forgotten about it until the other night in the car. When we were talking and you handed me that medal. I saw Robby's face all over again. I made the promise because I did not want that hurt look to return. I wanted to see my Robby smile again."
Richie took a very deep breath rubbing his hand on JJ's neck. "And I'm seeing my son's face right now, Jackie. The very last face I saw when he died."
Meg wrapped her hands around his free hand that was resting on the back of her pew as he continued. "I blacked out for a few minutes just after the accident, but when I woke up, I looked to my right and saw that Rosie was already gone. Her head was imbedded into her side window where the truck had hit, and her seat was about two feet closer to me than when I had blacked out. There was twisted metal and glass everywhere, and I could swear that it was all covered with a heavy thick red blood. But it didn't matter, because I knew that my Rosie was already gone."
At this point, all three of them had tears running down their faces as the two younger Pryor's continued to listen. "I had forgotten for a moment that Robby was even in the car until I heard his frail voice call out to me. He was being crushed between the front and rear seats, and his body had been pushed up over the back of the front seat where his upper torso was slumped just over my shoulder. With a struggle, and the realization of the sharp pain from my broken back hitting me all at once at first, I fought the urge to black out again, and forced myself enough to turn my head and face him."
Richie allowed his head to slump forward and rested on JJ's chest. "His face was about six inches from my own, and he had that hurt and pained filled face that I had only seen few time before since he was a baby. He was crying and gasping for what little air his damaged lungs were allowing him to receive."
The engrossing details made for Meg to close her eyes hoping to escape the images her uncle was painting, but the darkness of her eye lids only made the picture all the much clearer in her minds eye. JJ too closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his sobbing uncle.
"He was looking directly at me," Richie continued. "His eyes were pleading for me to help him. I could tell he was in great pain, but there was nothing I could do but wait for help to arrive and remove us from that death trap. The only thing out side of the great hopelessness and pain I could feel at that point, was the blistering rain that was streaming into the car through the shattered placed where glass and metal were only a few seconds earlier."
Pulling away slightly, Richie looked deeply into JJ's eyes as a stare of being in another place and time took over his face, and both JJ and Meg watched as he relived that moment.
"I reached up and forced my hand to touch his cheek," Richie told them with haunted eyes repeating the gesture. "I instructed him not to move, but he tried anyway. Each breath brought him more pain and less air to fill his lungs. He was being drowned in his own blood. He must have known the end was near, because he tried to smile and said he loved me," Richie's voice cracked. "I think he already knew his mother was gone, because he didn't seem to want to look over at her. I am assuming he discovered she was dead while I was still out."
Richie ran his hand through JJ's hair. "I told him that I loved him too, and I begged him to please hold on until help arrived. And I think he really tried, because we were there for what must have been well over a half hour before anyone even tried to get us out, but the car was so mangled, that it was another several minutes if not an hour before they could even move enough of the wreckage to pry me from the drivers seat. All the while they worked frantically trying to get us out, all I could do was stare into my sons weakening face. He got whiter with each passing moment, and even his hand that was shaking from where it was pinned behind his head seemed to loose its will to move anymore and he got deathly still."
By this point, Meg was in a full crying state, and JJ tried to keep him composure, never once loosing his haunted uncle's gaze. He tried to show as little sorrow as he could, but he could not hold back the grief and tears that covered his face.
"We tried our best to talk about useless things for a while," Richie continued. "We talked about how to fix the loose chain on his new bike, and his last math test that he had aced, again, but most of all we looked at each other and the fear and pain in each other's faces, while his voice got softer and softer. After the first few sentences, he kept repeating how tired he was becoming, and I too wanted nothing more than to just close my eyes until it was all over, but I kept telling him not to fall asleep. Somehow I knew that if he drifted off, he would not be returning to me."
Richie licked his lips that were dry in spite of the large amount of tears that ran down his face. "He kept saying how tired he was over and over again," Richie's own tired voice continued. "My instructions to stay awake soon became firm demands and then request which lead only too very heart felt pleads. I knew in my heart of hearts that I was loosing my son and looking into his youthful eyes for the last time. Then he could hold them open no longer and drifted off into a solid sleep."
The weeping was becoming heavy sobs from Meg as he finished. "I knew a few seconds later that my son was gone because even with the rain and all the noise around us, I had been able to focus solely on the raspy sounds of his breathing and I couldn't hear them anymore. My suspicions were then confirmed when I saw a small trickle of blood released from the side of his mouth. My son drowned on his own blood as I watched him die," Richie grew silent for a minute then he concluded his story. "I struggled to keep my hand raised to his face until the warmth of his body was completely gone, and in that cold rain, it didn't take long. Once my family was completely gone, I didn't care any longer, and I allowed myself to fall into the void of the blackness and didn't wake up until days later when I cursed the doctors for not letting me die with my wife and son."
JJ did not say a word as his uncle leaned in grasping his head with both hands and placed a firm kiss on his nephew's forehead. "I love you Robby," Richie said low with his lips pressed to JJ's head. "I will love and miss you forever."
JJ pulled his uncle into a full bear hug, and the two men wept openly into each other arms as Meg leaned across the pew to join the hug. "We love you Uncle Richie," she said through heavy sobs.
"I love you too sweaty. You too Jackie," Richie returned as the crying continued.
JJ didn't say a word, because he no longer could speak. All he could do was hold on, all the tighter, to the two of them.
After a few long minutes as they began to pull apart, they noticed as someone was standing a few feet away behind JJ with his hands in his coat pocket. They all looked up and were surprised to see Jack Pryor standing there with tear slowly streaming from his own eyes.
"Jack," Richie questioned trying to clear his view through the tears and wiping them away.
Jack looked long and hard at his younger brother until he was able to speak again, "You should have told me, Richie" he spoke the simple words. "You should have told me."
Helen Pryor waited patiently at the kitchen table praying that Jack and the kids would be home soon, or at least one of them or Richie would call to give her some news about what was happening. She was so deep in her own thoughts that she nearly jumped out of her sink when she heard a hearty knock at the back door. Quickly she rose up and rushed to open the barrier. Much to her dismay, all she found was a giddy Roxanne who stood with a large grin.
"Oh Roxanne," Helen forced a polite smile. "I wasn't expecting you."
"I know, but I couldn't wait another second and I had to rush over and thank you," Roxanne dived into a hug with the older woman. "My Mom has decided not to send me to Boston after all, and I have you to thank."
"Roxanne," Helen happily returned the embrace. "It wasn't all that hard. Your mother and I had a talk over lunch and we came to an understanding."
"I know," Roxanne pulled away as her head bobbed up and down with joy. "All I want to know is how you did. What did you say to change her mind?"
Placing a snide grin on her own face, Helen looked across the bridge of her nose at the younger woman. "I just reminded your mother that she may not have been such an angel in her earlier days either, and apparently she wasn't, and that helped to make the transition all the easier."
"Wow," Roxanne exclaimed. "If I had known it was that easy, I would have dragged out the old photo albums."
"I wouldn't do that," Helen turned and walked back to the table. "Before she agreed, I almost lost her to the possibilities that you too would end up with a looser of a husband and eventually have to hold down two jobs to support your children who would be born much too early in life for you to have a fair chance."
"Then I don't understand," Roxanne closed the door and sat next to her at the table. How did you get her to agree?"
Helen looked deeply into her young eyes. "I took responsibility for you Roxanne. On the mornings that your mother has to work, I told her that I would have you stop by here and I would approve of your daily dress and other attires such as makeup and hem lines."
"You did that for me?" Roxanne gave a sweet smile.
"I did for both you and Meg," Helen patted her hand. "I remember how important it was to have a best friend who I was close to as the two of you are in high school. I know I would have been devastated if she had to move away, so I did it as much for Meg as I did for you."
"Thank you Mrs. Pryor," Roxanne leaned in for another hug. "I owe you so much for this."
"And I'll remember that the first morning you give me an argument about what you are wearing," Helen grinned back.
After they were done hugging, Helen asked, "Would you like to stay for dinner? Meg and the boys should be back any minute now."
"Sure," She shrugged. "Can I help with anything?"
"Yes," Helen got up and walked to the stove. "You could go into the dinning room and tell Patty she can stop pealing the potatoes."
"Okay," Roxanne began the walk. "But how will I know if she already has enough?"
A large grin came across Helen face as she began to pull apart the thawed pork chops. "She's been pealing for the last forty five minutes," she smirked. "If we don't have enough by now, we never will."
The church had become completely silent again as JJ and Meg excused them selves and walked to a pew several rows back. They watched as Jack Pryor slid into the seat next to his brother and they both sat silent staring straight ahead. The air was hanging thick between the two brothers while each waited for the other to speak first. It was several minutes later when Richie chose to break the silence first.
"I didn't mean to be such a bother, Jack," he said almost under his breath. "I didn't know you would come looking for me."
"No, but you were hoping I would," Jack sighed back. "I've known you too long Richie. I know enough that it's not always what you are saying that counts, but what you are not saying that means more sometimes."
Richie had to think for a few seconds. "I guess some old habits never die," the younger Pryor brother forced a smile for in agreement. "Even after all these years I am still crying for attention even when I am not aware of it."
"We have always been a messed up pair," Jack shook his head with a stale chuckle. "Always looking for that little amount of interest Pop would show us when Ted wasn't around monopolizing his time. Now that he's gone, we are still falling back on those old habits, only now with each other."
It was a long moment before the silence was broken again. "I don't think Pop ever saw it," Richie finally added with a hush sigh. "Pop never thought he was treating any of his sons any different than the other. He just naturally gravitated to the one who most pleased him and didn't seem a disappointment. It was a natural impulse that he never gave a second thought to. He just didn't see it."
Jack allowed his head to lower for a moment as he mumbled, "there was allot that Pop never notice about us."
"I wonder sometimes," Richie let out a soft breath knowing to what his brother was referring. "I wonder if we had told him what O'Malley was doing to us when it happen, would he have believed us? Would he have stopped him?"
"I stopped thinking about the possible out comes a long time ago," Jack shook his head. "The reality of the truth was hard enough without the disappointment of the possible."
It took a while to notice, but when he did Richie followed Jack line of sight as he viewed the small door just off from the Alter which lead to the private chambers. He too watched the door for a moment before he spoke again. "You still remember it all clearly too, don't you?"
"Helen doesn't understand why I don't come to church all that often," Jack said with heavy concentration. "I've never been able to tell her that it is because of that door." He took a deep breath. "Every time I come here, I have to look at that door and remember what happened behind it. I have been able to block out the memories everywhere else in my life, but I can not do it while I have to look at that door."
"The strange thing is that I feel better when I see that door," Richie said softly. "As long as I know I am on this side of the door, I know that I am still safe. It's like keeping an eye on the only thing that has ever threaten me in my life, and as long as I can see what it is doing, then I know it can't hurt me."
"When I came here for Midnight mass last Christmas, I was able to talk Helen into sitting way in the back with an obstructed view of the alter, and for the first time I was able to sit in this building for a whole service and not think about what happen behind that door," Jack told his little brother. "It was like being a whole a person again."
"You are a whole person, Jack," Richie turned slightly towards him.
"I don't know," Jack shook his head again. "With all these memories coming back like this, I can remember the feeling I always felt growing up, as if something was taken away from me that can never be returned."
"You have a great life going for you with a wonderful wife and a group of great kids," Richie reminded him. "Your business is doing well, and JJ is about to go off and play collage football. It may not be the school of your choice, but it is still your dream for him, Jack."
"I know, Richie," Jack nodded. "Believe me. I know how great I have it when I look at how Pete and Ted are still struggling to keep it all together, but this is the one place where I don't feel complete. I can't explain it, but I feel," he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."
"Violated," Richie finished his thought for him. "You feel violated for what O'Malley did to you over and over again right behind what should be the holiest of places for you and your family, and you resent what he has done to your chance of feeling peace in the house of the God."
Jack looked into his eyes for a moment. It was like his brother was reading his very soul and showing it to him for the first time. He sat dumbfounded for a long while until Richie reached up and placed his hand on his shoulder. "I know how it feels, Jack," he gave a small understanding smile. "I know because I have already been through it and come out the other side. That was why I had to stop O'Malley when he came back here. I could not let him destroy those little boys like he did us. It may have cost me everything I ever loved, but I had to keep them from loosing their souls like I had."
"If you had told me these thing when it happen," Jack looked away. "I might have been able to understand. I might have tried to help you with Mom and Pop."
"Pop knew everything that happened to the two of us," Richie said back with a great welt of grief. "But he made his choices, and nothing you said would have changed that. Maybe if Ted had been one of O'Malley's sins, then maybe Pop would have understood or tried to help me stop that sick old man, but you and I were the ones always trying to find a way to get his attention, and I guess he thought this was just another way for me to do so."
Jack took a large lung full of air as he sat back deeper into the pew. He raised his head to the ceiling. "Is that why you didn't tell us about Rose and Robby?" He asked. "Because you thought I would think you were just trying to get my attention?"
"I didn't tell you," Richie started. "Because I didn't want to just walk in and say hey here is your long lost brother, and by the way, my wife and son both died right in front of me." He took a long pause before he continued. "I didn't want you to pity me, Jack. I wanted to give us a little time to know each other again before I sprang something like that on you."
"I don't pity you, Richie," Jack said with a bit of a crack in his voice. "I am mad as heck at you right now, but I don't pity you."
"I think I can understand that, Jack," Richie nodded. "But I think we can also work through it if we try."
Jack stood up and paced for a few seconds. "How could you do this Richie?" He almost growled. "How could you have shut yourself so far out of my life that you think I would not want to try and help you through something like this. I mean for God's sake, you almost died and lost your entire family and you never even considered to call me and let me know you were even still alive."
"Jack," Richie pushed himself to his feet.
"When," Jack had to look away as his emotions built up. "When the doctors told us that Will had contracted Polio, I was shattered, and the very first person I thought of that night was you."
Richie remained in a silent shock just watching as Jack relived the events in his mind as he had done his own earlier.
"I prayed for the first time in all those years that God would send you back home to help me deal with it," Jack continued brushing back his hair. "Helen and I held to the belief that he would live and be normal again, but inside I knew my son would never be a normal little boy again, and my gut was calling for the only other person besides me who truly understood what that would mean, but you never came back."
"If," Richie managed to croak out. "If you had called me, I would have been here in a heart beat, Jack. I never forgot what we meant to each other. What we were for each other. If I had known, I would have come home."
"Then why would you do that same thing to me?" Jack grabbed his jacket. "You almost died, Richie!" Jack screamed. "I don't give a darn about what had gone on between us in the past, when my brother almost dies and is fighting for his own life and not to mention the grief of his lost, I have the right to know. I have the right to be there with you and if for nothing else, to hold your hand and pray you through this just like I did all those times when we were kids."
He pounded his fist once on his chest. "It was what we always did for each other, and we let this stupid secret from the past destroy us again."
Richie's chest was raising and falling as he watched the grief engulf his brother and soul supporter when they were boys. "I'm sorry, Jack."
"Damn you, Richie," Jack pointed his finger at him. "We can be fighting and never have a civil word between us for as long as we both live, but don't you for one moment forget that you are my little brother, and what ever has or will happen between us, I love you, and there is no number of miles or years between us that will change that. We belong to each other as much now as we did when we were kids."
"Jackie," Richie stepped out of the pew. "I didn't think."
"I know you didn't think," Jack stopped short of shaking him. "Sometimes I swear that you were worst than my kids."
"I love you too, Jackie," Richie said a tears rolled down his face. "I'm sorry. I should have let you help me like I should have been there to help you. I needed you so badly, but I didn't think you would want me here."
The two men met eyes for a long moment. Then he could contain himself any longer, and Jack reached out pulling his sibling into a big bear hug as the tears rolled from his own eyes. "I swear, Richie," he muttered. You were a pain in my back side when we were kids, and you still are today."
Richie closed his eyes and returned the hug as the two men wept into each other's arms. "I thought," he forced out the raspy words. "I thought when I woke up in the hospital that day, that I had lost any chance of ever having a family again. I thought you were lost too, Jack."
Pulling him even closer, if that were at all possible, Jack placed his lips close to his brother's ear. "You thought wrong, Richie. You thought wrong."
After a few long moments, JJ and Meg made their way back to the older Pryor's and joyfully joined into the group hugs. What ever had happen before between them, the two brothers had been able to get pass their emotions and decided that they would let life go on, and regardless of what ever was to come, they would forever be the brothers they once were, and the two would no longer ever forget the other still lived. There were still the pangs of betrayal and lost that would always be between them, but they also knew that their bonds were stronger than their differences. Neither could ever say that he would be able to live with out the other ever again.
"What now?" JJ asked after they had all dried their eyes.
Jack put one arm around Richie's shoulder, and the other around Meg's waist. "He go home and eat supper, JJ," he smiled widely. "I think it's time for that long awaited welcome dinner for my brother."
JJ stepped to his Uncles opposite side wrapping his right arm around his back as Richie did the same to him with his left. "I can't think of any better plans."
Arm in arm, the four of them walked down the large center aisle of the church and into a new future with renew hopes and possibilities.
A short while later, the Pryor household was again a flutter of conversations and laughter around the supper table as Richie, Pete and Roxanne had been given a place at the meal along with Jack and his family. They each shared their happy moments their long lost uncle regaled them of adventures of the far off land known as Lynchburg Virginia. That night the Pryor children learn of there young cousin and his mother who had hoped to one day meet them, and the uncle learned of all the latest going on at East Catholic and the names of each dancer on the American Bandstand as well as every track record JJ had ever broken and why Thrill doesn't like broccoli and that Patty could recite each and every one of the ten highest mounting peaks in the world, alphabetically. The conversations went on for well over an hour as they enjoyed the meal of pork chops and four different types of potatoes.
After the meal was done, each of the Pryor children made their way into the living room as Richie settled onto the make shift bed Helen prepared for him on the sofa, sitting up to watch the television. He wore his freshly pressed pajamas and lowered himself slowly onto the seat. When he was the last in line, Will came up to him with a large piece of construction paper with a crude drawing of the entire family.
"I made this for you," Will gave a wide smile.
"Yeah, when he was suppose to be doing his homework," Patty added from over his shoulder to which he stuck his tongue out at her.
"Is this your family?" Richie took the picture in multi colored crayons while trying to mask his pain from wearing the braces all day.
"Yeah," Will smiled back. He pointed out a stick like figure at the end of a row of six other figures. "This one is you," he told his uncle. "I wanted you to keep it so you would know that you are part of our family now."
"Thank you, Will," Richie hugged his nephew. "This means allot to me."
When they had pulled apart, Will looked down and saw that one of the braces holding Richie's knee was giving him problems. With out thinking, the young boy reached down and tapped a spot on the side of the brace, which caused it to give way instantly relieving the pressure against his kneecap.
Richie gave a sigh of relief. "Wow, thank you Will," he said with great sense of ease. "That feels so much better."
"I know," Will shrug. "It happens to me all the time. I'll show you how to do it in the morning."
"I'll hold you to it," Richie grinned widely. "You're a special little guy."
JJ came up and picked his little brother up over his shoulder as Will giggled with delight. "That's why he's our Thrill," he commented leaning in to hug his uncle goodnight. "We'll see you in the morning."
"I'll be here," Richie smiled as his nephews left the room.
Meg made her way back after Patty and Roxanne had left the room and ran up the steps. She rushed over and gave him a quick hug. "I'm glad you decided to stay with us a few days."
"Me too, Meg," Richie returned.
After the kids were gone, Helen walked through the room. "I better go up and make sure Will settles down after all the excitement. Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in one of the boy's bed, Richie?"
"Thank you Helen," Richie nodded sweetly. "But I think it would be best for me not to tangle with those steps any more than I have too. I'll be fine right here."
"Okay," she smiled one last time. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Good night, Helen," Richie returned. "And thank you for everything."
Jack and Pete were the next to walk into the room. They were each holding a drink and Jack handed Richie a Pepsi. "I heard somewhere that you don't drink the hard stuff anymore, so this should do."
"Thanks," Richie took the bottle. "This will be fine."
"Jack and I were going to watch the rest of the game," Pete said taking a seat on the sofa to his right. "You want to watch with us?"
Richie looked over at Jack who took his place in his armchair on the opposite side and then back at Pete. "Sure," he grinned from ear to ear. "I would really like that."
"Good," Jack grunted popping his bottle cover.
"Oh great," Pete commented looking at the TV. "This is the wrong channel."
"Then get up and change it, Pete," Jack said with a groan.
"Why me?" Pete protested.
Jack and Richie glanced over at each other quickly and then back at Pete and said at the same time, "Because you're the youngest."
Pete rose with a great mocked disgusted and proceeded toward the television. Richie turned back to Jack with a big smile. "Just like old times."
Raising his drink, Jack gave a sly smile. "Welcome home little brother. Welcome home."
The End.
Authors Notes: Well here it is gang. The last chapter of the Pryor brothers' reunion. I really hope you have all enjoyed the story and will drop me a note to confirm that. I only hope that the solution was not too simplistic, but it was important to me and the story that the two brothers be reunited. Please let me know if you agree.
To: sevhevcracksmeup: Thank you for your review and kind words. I discovered as I wrote this story and it took on a life of it own, that Meg needed to be as important to the plot as Jack, JJ and Helen, so I thank you for agreeing that it worked. By now you know what has happen to Roxanne and she is not going away. I'm sure that is a great relief to you. -_o But more importantly, Jack has come around, and the Pryor brothers are again a complete family.
To Rebel Goddess: Thank you for your reviews and continued support. I hope my JJ to Robbie connection made sense and that it worked. I also hope you liked Jack's reaction.
To Banana Belle: Thanks for your review and support. Let me know how you thought this chapter went.
To Sarah: Again thank you for your reviews and support. I hope my story was pleasing to you and everyone who read it.
Well that's it for now gang. I hope to have a new Smallville story out by the end of the year and maybe something original over at Fan Press, so please keep your eyes open and I look forward to hearing from you again. Hey maybe there is even another Pryor family story in my little brain somewhere.
Best Wishes and God Bless
Phaze