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This writing was accepted for publication in the 84 page perfect-bound issue... cc&d magazine (v214) (the November 2010 Issue) |
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The First Stone
Christopher Cervelloni
I guess it must have been last month when Father Leo railed against pre-marital sex during one of our Friday masses. Each Friday morning before classes, we gathered as a school for mass. Father Leo would usually cut certain ceremonies short. The procession was not to a long, drawn-out hymn. He didn’t even wear his typical vestments, just the all-black suit thing with the white collar thing. The only two parts he didn’t hustle through were communion and his sermons. I think he hustled through everything else so he could talk longer. He was on a tight schedule because we all had to start first period and there was a time or two throughout my four years at St. Mary and Michael that he was in the middle of the sermon when the bells rang to start first period. Every time the students just sat there, we were torn. We certainly didn’t want to go to first period, but we also didn’t want to listen to more of the priest’s ravings. More from fear than obedience, we remained seated until Father Leo dismissed us.
This one particular Friday though was different. The Thursday before rumors had spread that a girl in my grade, Courtney Stone, was pregnant. We had all heard from the nuns that pre-marital sex was a sin, that lust and desire were things to be avoided, that pleasures of the flesh lead us only to the devil and eternal hellfire. We all nodded in agreement, and we all aced the bible history tests. We knew our catechism and most could even recite several memorized bible verses and tell you the book, chapter and verse. We never expected to actually confront these evils, never thought they could possibly come inside the walls of St. Mary and Michael. We all knew – and I’ll even admit to participating a few times – that students at our school drank and did drugs. And like all other adolescents we flirted and said inappropriate things and joked in gross ways and went home to fantasize about our classmates doing sexual things to us. But when you’re under the watchtower of a rigid nun, you learn to keep those thoughts hidden. The catholic parishioner in church is not the same catholic out with the guys on a Friday night. Don’t misunderstand me, these were all good-hearted, pure people. Our school destroyed others when it came to volunteer hours, GPA, scholarships, money raised for charities and overall appearance in the community. That’s why my parents spent so much money to send me there. We were young like everyone else, and youth negated the responsibilities adults assumed we were taking care of. Things like pregnancy didn’t knock on our doors. No one was hurt from any misbehavior, no action had a consequence too great for quick forgiveness, from God or friends or otherwise. Telling me that Courtney Stone was pregnant was about as believable as saying Jesus Christ would choose our school for his first Second Coming tour stop. We all saw those after-school specials and the videos the nuns showed us in class. But none of those things were real. They were as real to us at the Terminator or PacMan, objects on a screen wholly fictional and a part of an entirely separate universe. Sure, in some part of the universe or other side of the world, those things might exist. But not at St. Mary and Michael.
Father Leo started his anti-sex sermon quoting, “a man’s ways are before the eyes of the Lord, and he ponders all his paths. The iniquities of the wicked ensnare him, and he is held fast in the cords of his sin. He dies for lack of discipline, and because of his great folly he is led astray.”
Typically, if there was a sound like a marble rolling every time someone rolled their eyes, it would have sounded like rainfall in the church when Father Leo started with these lines. Almost each week he started his sermon with some scripture quote that said we were all damned and going to hell. Don’t get me wrong, he made a lot of good points. We were young and stupid and all that like all kids and we needed a good scolding once in a while. Lots of times I remember listening to Father Leo and thinking, “yeah, I definitely did that this week. I have to stop doing that.” Or vice-versa. Lots of good came from his sermons. But students also need a little variety. If you think you know what someone is going to say, you tend to space out a little bit and listen only to the major details because you know how to fill in the rest. That’s what happened a lot with Father Leo. We all listened attentively for the first few minutes, but then his themes all ran together and we started letting our minds wander or maybe try to sneak a note to a friend down the row or maybe try to fit in the last few math homework questions.
But that day everyone was paying attention. No one rolled their eyes. It was like a train wreck, everyone knew what was coming, knew it was going to be gruesome and harsh, and they wanted to be a part of it. I include myself in this. We all knew that the news of Courtney’s pregnancy had to have reached Father Leo, that Father Leo would be outraged and he would spend the next sermon railing that sin. As he spoke, as he condemned the wicked and praised the meek and spoke of the Lord sheparding us, how we must not stray from the flock, people’s heads turned from Father Leo to Courtney Stone. Everyone knew, even though Father was not speaking directly to her, that he was talking about her. I looked too, thinking what I thought everyone else was thinking. I think my experience in mass that day differed only because I broke away from my thoughts about Courtney and listened again to Father Leo. I think most others didn’t do that, and that’s really what caused all the drama. Not just the fact that a girl at our school was pregnant or that she was in trouble in so many ways, or that she had drawn a line in the sand and people – especially her friends – had to choose a side: support your friend or support your faith. I don’t think anyone really wanted to examine their choices, so they just went with the side that they knew would always win.
Father Leo changed his tone of voice. That’s what I think brought my attention back to him. Typically he has a stern voice, like a grandparent scolding their adult child. And he started out that way, like he always does. He came down with his hellfire and brimstone voice and attacked the sins of the world. But after a few minutes, he stopped and took a breath and then, in a light tone unknown to us.
He continued, “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery.’ But I say to you that everyone who looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart. If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. For it is better that you lose one of your members than that your whole body be thrown into hell.”
He stopped here, and perhaps a couple of other students noticed the pause – again something he rarely did while speaking. “Everyone here is a sinner before God. I am a sinner. The sisters here are sinners. We are human beings and will always be sinners. We will never be perfect and God does not expect that of us. However, he still expects us to try. In such divine attempts it is glorious to fail. And with each failure we become closer to God and see only how far it truly is to reach him. If we ask God for forgiveness it gives it. Thus, we should be amongst ourselves. Any sinner asking for forgiveness should be forgiven. We were all sinners and forgivers. It says in first Corinthians, ‘And such were some of you. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.’”
Everyone kept their thoughts to Courtney. I had my thoughts on Courtney, but I don’t think I had them like most others. I heard Father Leo saying that I needed to grant forgiveness to a sinner, and that sinner might likely even be myself. It seemed like everyone else was waiting for Courtney to stand up and ask everyone else for their forgiveness. Everyone seemed ready to give her forgiveness, everyone seemed ready to say, “Oh, that’s okay, Jesus loves us all.” But they all waited for her to kneel before them so they could bestow their blessings. Courtney had to come to them, Courtney had to humble herself. If Courtney did none of these things than they felt no religious obligation to act.
Uncannily, Father Leo finished his sermon after just those few minutes.
The halls were loud and crowded with the loitering students. No teacher attempted to control the crowd of hundreds of students in the hallways. Usually everyone rushed to first period, but that day we all had about fifteen minutes to do nothing except stand around and talk. And of course, we talked about Courtney.
I’ve seen in movies before when someone will do something really embarrassing and then when that person comes back or is seen again the next day, everyone around will stop what they’re doing, stop what they’re saying and all stare. I’ve been in situations kind of like that, but not everyone stared and people usually kept talking but looking at me out of the corner of their eyes. So I just though that the movies exaggerated that mass public silence, like they do with lots of other things (first kisses are not like what you see in the movies. I can tell you that for certain). But that’s how it was when Courtney started to walk towards her first period class. At first I thought the hallways were just growing quieter with all the people maybe going to classes or somewhere else. But when I looked around, the hallway was still crowded. It was like she commanded silence as she walked down the hallway. The far end where she came from had been noisy, but then she walked in and they stopped talking. As she moved down the hallway, the people behind her kept their eyes on her and started talking again while the people next to and in front of her stopped talking and looked at her funny. It went like that until, in a silent section, someone yelled out, “Slut!” I couldn’t tell right away who it was, but I do know it was a girl’s voice. Guys may have been thinking it, but openly calling a girl as slut is something we all know we’d get beaten up for by every girl in the school. But I guess a girl calling another girl a slut is fine by all the other girls.
Courtney stopped and turned around. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” She looked out to the crowd. I guess the person was behind her because Courtney scanned the crowd like she didn’t know who said anything. Her shoulders and chin were up, like she was prideful. She didn’t look angry, which is weird because I’d have likely just turned to the nearest person and punched them in the face. But she didn’t look mad at all. She looked like someone really tried to get her attention and ask a polite question and she wanted to help them out.
But no one said anything. They all just looked at her and she looked at them. Finally, she said, “I guess no one said anything. Since they’re unwilling to repeat it to my face.” Everyone knew what she was doing. A pretty good move too. As I think about it now, it’s a good way to call people out. If they can’t say something to your face, they have no right to be heard or should they ever expect their advice or thoughts to be taken seriously. Courtney may have been a sinner in my eyes, but she certainly had a Christ-like air about her that day. As she turned to walk away, the girl who said it eventually got the nerve to say it again, at least to the back of Courtney’s head.
“Slut,” the girl said. This time staring as Courtney turned around again. (I don’t really know who that girl was. Well, I know her name and all, but I’ll leave that out so I don’t embarrass her, but I never hung out with her or really knew anything about her. But I will say this: she has long had a reputation before being a bitch).
“Cast it,” Courtney said. “Cast the first stone. Do it. I’m the adulterer, right?” She looked that one girl right in the eye, daring her to say something more. But it wasn’t like a guy might do it, going all wide-eyed and tight-lipped and getting up in the other guy’s face, and waiting for the other guy to open his mouth, like saying something else would be the bell to start the fight. It wasn’t even anger really. “I’m standing before you. You’ve got your mob you’ve got your stones. Throw them.” Everyone understood the allusion. It is a catholic school after all. But I don’t think anyone remembered that lesson. They all stared for awhile, waiting for the girl to punch Courtney or Courtney to punch the girl. But when it was apparent that Courtney was winning the staring contest and that the girl wasn’t going to do anything else, they all turned and walked away like the biblical Pharisees. But with hate on their faces. They did not drop their stones and walk away, shameful and knowing themselves a sinner. Instead, they merely saw a trick played. They could not continue their judgments and remain on the high road. Each person seemed to mutter “the devil may quote scripture for his purpose” but never really thought about their scriptural purposes.
When I was a freshman and I first started school, on the very first day, I did not have the same fears as all the other freshman. Some of them had gone to middle school together or were neighbors or something. But I lived half and hour away and my parents sent me here because there were no good public school around where we lived. So I wasn’t afraid of the upperclassmen beating me up, and I wasn’t worried about the classwork or homework or anything like that. What I was really worried about was who I was going to sit with at lunch. It wasn’t like my middle school where you sat next to whoever you were in line next to. You got to sit anywhere you wanted. And that meant I had to choose someone to sit with. And if I wasn’t welcome that could be disastrous. While my parents drove me to school I thought of things to say to sound cool when asking if I could sit with people. I thought of strategies for how I might make it through lunch (such as purposefully being the last in line so I could pick a seat alone in a crowded and not-caring group of peers). But all that was avoided when a kid named Greg, now one of my good friends, came up to me and said, “Hey, I’m new here and don’t know anyone. Can I sit with you and your friends at lunch.” I never thought of that lunch strategy. It really was a genius one.
What I’m really trying to say is that sitting alone in a big room is a scary thing. Especially when you know all the people and they can look at you. Double especially when usually the only open tables to sit by yourself are right next to Father Leo, Father Mark and all the other nuns. We eat in our gymnasium slash theater (cleverly called the multi-purpose room). The priests and nuns eat at a table that is parallel to the stage and they keep their backs to the stage watching us. All the student tables are perpendicular to them, so we face the side walls. So naturally all the students don’t want to be under the constant gaze of authority so they sit as far back as they can. All the open, lonely seats are right next to the clergy (and there are some poor kids who sit by themselves every day. But they do that on purpose. I once saw Sandra Crescent ask a boy to sit with her and her friends. He just looked all nervous and shook his head and went back to eating). That is where Courtney chose to sit.
I guess everyone was still fuming or her friends just didn’t want to make a scene or anything, but when Courtney chose to sit in the seat closest to Father Leo no one went with her. It didn’t get all silent or anything like in the hallways and no one shouted anything. My friends and I didn’t even talk much about her or being pregnant or anything. But we also didn’t do anything to help her out. Besides Courtney sitting in a different place, pretty much everything about that lunch was normal. That was, I mean, until Father Leo started choking.
I forget what we had that made him choke, but I do remember thinking later that it was a commonly choked-on food. Sister Grace shouted, but we didn’t hear her at first. It just sounded like she was laughing at a joke and saying really loud, “You’re joking,” but we only heard the “..oking” part really loud. We heard it again and everyone noticed her scream and got quiet. Then we all heard it loud and clear. “He’s choking. He’s choking. Someone. He’s choking.”
We all looked at Father Leo, he was holding his hands around his neck. If we didn’t know from first aid class that that was the universal sign for choking, then we might have thought he was choking himself. His face was red, his eyes wide, bulgy and tearing. Everyone sat there, just watching him. To me it seemed like a really long time, maybe like thirty seconds or so. I’m sure to Father Leo it was a lifetime and a half. But for those thirty seconds, no one did anything. Well, that’s not true, Sister Grace shouted for someone to do something and then made a dash for the nurse in the front office. But everyone else just stared. That’s all they did. Stared.
That’s when Courtney stood up. She looked at us though. Not at Father Leo. That’s what was so weird. She looked at the crowd of eaters, and we all saw her too, she was the only one standing. She looked at us like she had asked us what was two plus two and everyone was too stupid to answer, like she was baffled that we all didn’t know what two plus two was. Sometimes my mom and dad give me that look when I do something stupid.
She walked up to Father Leo, motioned with his hand that he needed to stand up. He looked at her scared, like she was the one choking him. But after she gave that stand up signal again, he stood up. She wrapped her arms around his belly and yanked (I recognized the Heimlich maneuver from the first aid training videos). The food popped out. It really popped too, not just like a few inches in front of his mouth and landed back on his plate. It shot out and went about seven to ten feet in front of him. Father Leo gasped in air, his face changed color and he sat down again, breathing hard.
“Thank you, my child.” Courtney looked down at the floor and started to walk away. “No, wait,” Father Leo grabbed her hand. “Truly, Miss Stone. You’re a good Samaritan, one of God’s own.” They looked at each other for a while. Father Leo said something else to her, but it was whispered and I couldn’t hear it. Courtney sat back down and finished her meal.
