Of Love and Evil (The Songs of the Seraphim 2)

“Tell me about your studies,” I said.

“English literature. I want to teach college. I want to teach Chaucer or Shakespeare, I haven’t made up my mind which. I’ve had fun teaching grammar school, more fun than Toby cares to admit. He looks down on kids his age. He’s like you are. He thinks he’s a grown-up and he talks to grown-ups more than he does to children. It’s his nature, just like yours.”

We laughed at that because it was true. That’s the nicest kind of soft laughing, when you laugh as an answer, or as punctuation, and southern people do that easily and all the time.

“Remember when we were kids we both wanted to be college teachers?” she asked. “Remember you said if you could teach college and own a beautiful house on Palmer Avenue, you’d be the happiest man in the world. Toby goes to school at Newman, by the way, and he’ll tell you as soon as you ask him that it’s the best school in town.”

“It always was. Jesuit runs it a close second when it comes to high school.”

“Well, some people would argue about who’s on first when it comes to that. But the point is, Toby’s Jewish and so he goes to Newman. My life’s been happy, Toby. You didn’t leave me in the lurch, you left me a treasure. And that’s how I’ve always seen it, and that’s how I see it now.” She folded her arms and leaned forward on the table. Her tone was serious but matter-of-fact at the same time. “When I got on that plane, I thought, I’m going to show him this treasure that he left me. And I’m going to show him what that treasure might mean to him.”

She stopped. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. And she knew it. She knew it by my tears. I couldn’t put the fullness of happiness or love into words.

Malchiah, can I marry her? Am I free to do that? And what about that other angel, is he near me? Does he want me to reach across this table and take her in my arms?

CHAPTER THREE

WE DROVE OVER TO THE MISSION OF SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO that afternoon.

I figured there were many wonderful things for a little boy Toby’s age to see on the West Coast, Disneyland, for one thing, and the park at Universal Studios, and other places of which I didn’t know the names.

But the one place I wanted to take him was the mission and he seemed completely delighted by the idea, and though I had to provide watch caps for both of them, Liona and Toby both liked the Bentley convertible quite a lot.

When we reached the mission, I took them for a leisurely walk around the grounds, through the garden patches I loved, and around the koi pond, which delighted Toby. We looked at some of the mission exhibits that have to do with the way people did things in those days, but it was the story of the big earthquake that had destroyed the church which fascinated Toby the most.

He was having a lively time with his iPhone camera, and he took dozens of pictures of us in just about every setting imaginable.

Sometime or other, when we were browsing in the gift shop, amid the rosaries and the Indian jewelry, I asked Liona if I could take Toby with me into the chapel and pray.

“I know he’s Jewish,” I said.

“It’s fine,” she answered. “You just take him and talk to him about it any way that you want.”

We tiptoed inside because it was shadowy and quiet, and the few people at prayer in the plain wooden pews seemed very serious at it, and the candles gave a soft reverent glow.

I took him up to the front with me, and we knelt on the pair of prie-dieux that were there for weddings, for the bride and the groom.

I realized how much had happened to me with Malchiah since I’d come to this chapel, and when I looked at the tabernacle, when I looked at the small house of God on the altar, and the sanctuary light beside it, I was overcome with gratitude just for being alive, let alone being given a chance at life such as I’d been given, let alone being given the gift of Toby that was mine.

I leaned down close to him. He was kneeling there, with his hands folded just as mine had been folded, and he didn’t seem to object to the fact that it was a Catholic house of worship.

“I want to tell you something, something I want you always to remember,” I said.

He nodded.

“I believe God’s in this house,” I said. “But I know that He is everywhere too. He’s in every molecule of everything that exists. It’s all part of Him, His creation, and I believe in Him, in everything He’s ever done.”

He listened to this without looking at me. His eyes were down. He just nodded when I stopped.

“I don’t expect you to believe in Him because I do,” I said. “But I want you to know that I do believe in Him, and if I didn’t think He’d forgiven me for leaving you and your mother, well, I don’t know that I would have ever had the courage to pick up the phone and call her and tell her where I was. But I do believe He’s forgiven me, and now it’s my job to get you to forgive me, and to get her to forgive me, and I aim to do exactly that.”

“I forgive you,” he said in a small voice. “I really really do.”

I smiled. I kissed the top of his head. “I know you do. I knew it when I first saw you. But forgiving doesn’t really happen all at once, and sometimes it takes some maintenance, and I’m prepared for the maintenance that this is going to require. But … this isn’t all I have to tell you. I have to tell you something else too.”

“I’m listening,” he said.

“Remember this,” I said. I hesitated. I didn’t know quite how to start. “Talk to God,” I said. “No matter how you’re feeling, no matter what you’re facing, no matter what happens to hurt you or disappoint you or confuse you. Talk to God. And never stop talking to Him. You understand me? Talk to Him. Realize that because things go bad in this world, because they go well, because they come easy or they come with difficulty, well, it doesn’t mean that He is not here. I don’t mean here in this chapel. I mean here everywhere. Talk to Him. No matter how many years pass, no matter what happens, always talk to Him. Would you try to remember to do that?”

He nodded. “When do I start?”

I laughed softly under my breath. “Anytime you want. You start now with or without words, and you just keep talking and you never never let anything come between you and talking to God.”

He thought about this very gravely and then he nodded. “I’m going to talk to Him now,” he said. “You might want to wait outside.”