“I remember you right here and now, Luann. See you in church.”
By the time we reached the entrance to St. Paul’s, thousands were being funneled through the narrow streets, toward the entrance, and they understood that only a few hundred would fit inside the small neighborhood church. The panic was starting. They all wanted to see me.
Gilly was twisting in my arms, waving, laughing into the crook of my neck. “Mom, this is so great.”
With Beans acting as the tip of the spear, I entered the sacristy with my daughter still in my arms. I thanked the reporter, who shot his last, desperate questions at me.
I told him, “I’ll see you after Mass, Papa, I promise,” and closed the door.
I let Gilly down, and she fed our pet tabby cat, Birdie. Then my little girl ran out to the nave and squeezed her way into a front pew. I crossed myself, and hoping that I would find the right words, I walked out to the altar.
The air was supercharged with expectation.
I looped the stole around my neck and stepped up to the altar. But instead of beginning the Mass in the traditional manner, I spoke to the congregation in the most personal way I knew how.
“That was a pretty rough scene out on DeWolfe Street,” I said to the congregants. “But I’m glad we’re all together now on this momentous Easter Sunday. We have a lot to reflect upon and much to pray for.”
A bearded man jumped to his feet at the rear of the church and called my name, demanding my attention.
“Look here, Brigid. Look at me.”
Did I know him? I couldn’t make out his face from where I stood, but then he walked up the aisle, crossed himself, and slipped his hand into his jacket.
In front of me, Gilly shouted, “Mom!” her face contorted in fear. But before I could speak to my precious daughter, I heard a cracking sound and felt a punch to my shoulder. I reached my hand out to Gilly.
There was another crack, and I staggered back and grabbed at the altar cloth, pulling it and everything on the altar down around me.
I fought hard to stay in the present. I tried to get to my feet, but I was powerless. The light dimmed. The screams faded, and I was dropping down into a bottomless blackness, and I couldn’t break my fall.