Read Online The Fool by Morgan Gallagher - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Morgan Gallagher
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me up valley, to my aunts. Her aunts really,
my great aunts, they put me back on the straight. They let me find
myself again. I thought I understood. I thought I knew where these
children were coming from, what their lives were...’ His voice
trailed off in despair. The tears in his eyes were not pity or
sadness: they were rage.
‘I HAD NO IDEA!’ His open palm slapped down
hard on the table, the bruising on his knuckles was clear to see.
He needed to move, jump, to dissipate the energy in him. He stood
up and kicked the chair away from him.
‘How could I have been so STUPID? So naive?
How could I have done this?’
Maryam waited for him to recover, which he
did, picking up the chair and setting it back to rights.
‘When I realised what they were doing, who
they were targeting in the groups, I was so angry. I didn’t just
ban them, I threw them out! When they argued back, I lost it. Like
the money lenders in the Temple, I physically threw them over the
threshold. I told Jason Briggs if he came near the Church again I’d
make sure he couldn’t walk away. I’d break his legs.’
His face was ashen, tears flowing out of his
eyes, his voice knotted in self-loathing.
‘When did this happen?’
‘Shortly after I’d called in the local
police to help me make sense of it all. I hadn’t understood...
understood what they were doing. That it wasn’t the young boys they
were after. That’s why they got away with it at first and got their
claws into some of them. I was blind.’
‘What were they after?’
‘The girls. They were after the girls.
Courting them, buying them gifts, making them feel special.
Recruiting them.’
‘For what?’
‘The gangs. They seek out girls and get them
to join. But the girls aren’t treated the same way as the boys. The
girls are... owned.’
‘Owned? You mean they prostitute them?’
‘Not in that sense. They don’t sell them
out. But they possess them, keep them, use them. When the kids in
the group started to get into trouble at home, started to skip
school, go wild... I hadn’t understood what was happening, what
terrible things were being done to the girls. I hadn’t known.’
‘Known what, Father Jones?’
‘That the girls were a commodity, Miss
Michael. That a girl joining gangs such as the RRs, becomes... a
prize. They are raped by the leader of the gang or one of the
lieutenants. When they’ve had their fill of them, they are passed
on down through the ranks. Sometimes the entire gang will rape
them. The girls are only allowed to stay in the gangs if they
accept this, accept anything being done to them. And once a girl is
truly owned by a gang...’ Wyn’s voice again broke in anger and self
revulsion ‘They recruit other girls in. Before I’d realised it,
half a dozen of the girls coming to my group, good Catholic girls
with families that adored them, protected them... they started
running wild. Ignoring their parents, skipping school, running in
the streets at night. But they kept coming to the group, to the
choir. Their parents would come to me, begging me to help with
them. I counselled them, reassured them. ‘They are still coming to
the House of the Lord,’ I said. ‘They are still singing in the
choir. We will reach them.’ And all the time they were
there....’
‘To recruit more girls?’
‘YES!’ Wyn’s fist drove down on the table
once more. ‘I found out that girls from my group were prized by the
Runners. The Runners actively sought them out...’
‘Because they were virgins?’
Wyn looked shocked that Maryam had spoken
such a thing, knew of such a thing. She placed her hand very gently
on his fist, still held fast on the table.
‘The world has always had bad places and
people in it, Father Jones. Nothing you could say would shock me or
be new to me.’
Wyn pulled his hand free, stood up and
turned away, pacing the room before facing a wall. His shoulders
were crumpled, his heart heavy. She was sure he was praying.
my great aunts, they put me back on the straight. They let me find
myself again. I thought I understood. I thought I knew where these
children were coming from, what their lives were...’ His voice
trailed off in despair. The tears in his eyes were not pity or
sadness: they were rage.
‘I HAD NO IDEA!’ His open palm slapped down
hard on the table, the bruising on his knuckles was clear to see.
He needed to move, jump, to dissipate the energy in him. He stood
up and kicked the chair away from him.
‘How could I have been so STUPID? So naive?
How could I have done this?’
Maryam waited for him to recover, which he
did, picking up the chair and setting it back to rights.
‘When I realised what they were doing, who
they were targeting in the groups, I was so angry. I didn’t just
ban them, I threw them out! When they argued back, I lost it. Like
the money lenders in the Temple, I physically threw them over the
threshold. I told Jason Briggs if he came near the Church again I’d
make sure he couldn’t walk away. I’d break his legs.’
His face was ashen, tears flowing out of his
eyes, his voice knotted in self-loathing.
‘When did this happen?’
‘Shortly after I’d called in the local
police to help me make sense of it all. I hadn’t understood...
understood what they were doing. That it wasn’t the young boys they
were after. That’s why they got away with it at first and got their
claws into some of them. I was blind.’
‘What were they after?’
‘The girls. They were after the girls.
Courting them, buying them gifts, making them feel special.
Recruiting them.’
‘For what?’
‘The gangs. They seek out girls and get them
to join. But the girls aren’t treated the same way as the boys. The
girls are... owned.’
‘Owned? You mean they prostitute them?’
‘Not in that sense. They don’t sell them
out. But they possess them, keep them, use them. When the kids in
the group started to get into trouble at home, started to skip
school, go wild... I hadn’t understood what was happening, what
terrible things were being done to the girls. I hadn’t known.’
‘Known what, Father Jones?’
‘That the girls were a commodity, Miss
Michael. That a girl joining gangs such as the RRs, becomes... a
prize. They are raped by the leader of the gang or one of the
lieutenants. When they’ve had their fill of them, they are passed
on down through the ranks. Sometimes the entire gang will rape
them. The girls are only allowed to stay in the gangs if they
accept this, accept anything being done to them. And once a girl is
truly owned by a gang...’ Wyn’s voice again broke in anger and self
revulsion ‘They recruit other girls in. Before I’d realised it,
half a dozen of the girls coming to my group, good Catholic girls
with families that adored them, protected them... they started
running wild. Ignoring their parents, skipping school, running in
the streets at night. But they kept coming to the group, to the
choir. Their parents would come to me, begging me to help with
them. I counselled them, reassured them. ‘They are still coming to
the House of the Lord,’ I said. ‘They are still singing in the
choir. We will reach them.’ And all the time they were
there....’
‘To recruit more girls?’
‘YES!’ Wyn’s fist drove down on the table
once more. ‘I found out that girls from my group were prized by the
Runners. The Runners actively sought them out...’
‘Because they were virgins?’
Wyn looked shocked that Maryam had spoken
such a thing, knew of such a thing. She placed her hand very gently
on his fist, still held fast on the table.
‘The world has always had bad places and
people in it, Father Jones. Nothing you could say would shock me or
be new to me.’
Wyn pulled his hand free, stood up and
turned away, pacing the room before facing a wall. His shoulders
were crumpled, his heart heavy. She was sure he was praying.
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