Al Calavicci struggles with an impossible choice – liberty or loyalty.
BOTH OR NONE – Part Four
Friday mornings the sixth grade had grammar with Sister Margaret. Most of the class - both the orphans and the neighbourhood kids who came in every day to go to school, but got to go home to mothers and fathers afterwards - bent low over their work, struggling unhappily. Al hated grammar too, but he was good at it. He was halfway through his exercises when there was a knock at the door and Ellen Jeffries, one of the bigger girls with no real academic tendencies, came in. The big girls who didn't go to the high school helped the nuns with the laundry, the little kids, and other things. A couple of them did the shopping with Sister Julia, three of them had jobs outside the orphanage that they went to every day. Ellen ran errands for the nuns who taught school.
"Sister?" she said. "Sister Agnes wants Calavicci in Mother Superior's office."
Al stiffened, eyes suddenly wide. Sister Margaret looked up from her desk. "Why?" she asked.
Ellen shrugged. "She said she wants him now. There's a car outside."
A murmur went up among the orphans, though the outside kids didn't even look up from their work. Al felt sick. A car only meant one of three things. Either a family was coming to adopt somebody, or someone was being taken away to Reform School for some misdemeanor beyond the scope of Sister Agnes's disciplinary measures, or a lawyer was coming with bad news.
It wasn't the first one, because no family wanted an eleven-year-old Italian. People only adopted little ones, with blue eyes and golden hair. Ana Fefner would be adopted, not Al.
The second one was possible. Because of the Black Magic fiasco, Al was the youngest of the Last Chance kids, the ones who were one step away from being shipped off to do some hard time. The ones who stole and lied, who snuck up onto the orphanage roof, or set fire to the tool shed, or smoked cigarettes, or ran away. They had to see the probation officer every Saturday, and the next major offence would be their last. But Al searched and searched his recent misdemeanors, and he couldn't turn up anything nearly serious enough to justify such a severe and irrevocable punishment. Maybe McGinnis had caught him sneaking out of bed last night. He shivered. Sister Agnes was strict, but she was mostly fair. She wouldn't send him to Reform School just because of that.
Then he thought about the third possibility, and a pit of terror formed in his lower abdomen. What if something had happened to Trudy?
"Calavicci, go with Miss Jeffries," Sister Margaret said. Al couldn't move. His limbs were trembling. Something had happened to Trudy.
"Calavicci," Sister repeated.
"Sister Agnes wants him now," Ellen said boredly, picking at her fingernail.
"Calavicci!"
Al got to his feet and stumbled to the door. He followed Ellen down the narrow, dark corridor to Mother Superior's office. She opened the door. Al froze, staring at it and dreading what lay inside.
"What are you, a half-wit?" she asked. "Get in there!"
His heart in his throat, Al entered the room. Sister Agnes sat at Mother Superior's desk: Mother Superior lived at the main convent, not at the orphanage, and she wasn't usually here. Across from her a man and a woman were seated in the two visitors' chairs. The woman was thin and blond, wearing a severe grey dress and a hat with a demi-veil. The man was middle-aged and paunchy, and he wore a black suit.
The man smiled as Al came in. "Al!" he said.
Al stared at him. "Uncle Jack?" he whispered. His throat had gone dry. It was true. Something terrible had happened to Trudy.
"You know why I'm here, son?"
Al couldn't help it. He knew that he was eleven years old, almost twelve, and he was too big to cry. He knew what McGinnis and the other boys would say when they heard about it. But he just couldn't help it. He burst into tears. "Trudy's dead!" he sobbed.
