Chickie nodded, the mask momentarily gone. A second later, it was back. “Yes, I do,” he said. “It’s happening here, too. Dan Burdock has got some kind of bee up his ass—excuse me. I don’t remember where I am sometimes.”
“It’s all right.”
“I hate being out of the gossip. I’m never out of the gossip. All I can think is that Dan is the only one who knows, and he’s not saying anything.”
“Do you think they could be connected? What’s going on over there and what’s going on over here? I don’t see how they could be.”
“Maybe it has something to do with the pray-in,” Chickie said. “Rick Luca had this idea that we should all dress up in prom gowns and go over there and pray in with you, but I don’t think Dan is going to stand for it.”
Mary bit her lip.
“What?” Chickie said. “You think that’s funny? Let me tell you, I’d look worlds better in a prom gown than that cow who was queen my senior year in high school. I mean, I know mammary glands are supposed to be attractive on a woman, but there really is such a thing as overdoing it.”
Mary laughed. “Not something I’ve ever had to worry about.”
“Listen, duckie, you’ve got the kind of body that would look perfect in Balenciaga. Don’t knock it. Do you want a whole cup of this stuff or only half? I made it a little strong.”
“A whole cup. The thing is, though, the pray-in may be part of it. Part of what’s going on, I mean. Because there isn’t going to be one this year.”
Chickie put the coffee cup down on the little round table next to Mary’s chair and raised his eyes to heaven. “It’s a miracle! God has answered me! The heavens have opened, and a voice has come from the clouds—”
“Oh, hush,” Mary said. “No voice came from the clouds. It came from the chancery. Or at least that’s what I heard. The Cardinal Archbishop put his foot down. No pray-in this year. No pray-in ever again.”
“The son of a bitch, really? Excuse me again. There I go—”
“It’s okay, really. You should hear some of the things Ned says.”
“Well, if he says them around you, he’s a clod. And don’t think I don’t mean it.”
He did mean it. The mask was gone again, lickety-split, and back just as quickly. Mary drank more coffee. Sometimes she wondered if Chickie had friends far closer to him than she was, with whom he could drop the mask for hours at a time. It frightened her to think that he might never drop the mask except when he was alone. It said something about his life that she did not want to look at.
“You know,” she said, “I think it might have been Sister Scholastica. The new principal over at the school. She just hated the idea of that pray-in, the first time she heard about it. And she’s not like Sister Harriet Garrity. She’s still in a habit. She’s very traditional, really. People have to take her seriously.”
“I take Sister Harriet Garrity seriously. I won’t tell you as what.”
“Well, everybody takes her seriously as that. But it’s true, you know. Nobody would listen to Sister Harriet about the pray-in because, you know, what would you expect her to say. And she doesn’t have the Church’s interests at heart. But Sister Scholastica is so committed, really, and so—I don’t know. Mainstream, I guess. So the Cardinal listens to her. Sort of. Do you suppose, if there’s no pray-in, Reverend Phipps will come anyway?”
“He will if he knows there’s a television camera in the vicinity.”
“Mmmm.” Mary stood up. The coffee in her cup was gone. The way she felt, she wouldn’t need another for a week. Chickie had been right to say he’d made the stuff very strong. Mary stretched a little and got her bag from the floor. “I’d better go. Thanks a lot, Chickie. I needed to be cheered up. I’ve got Intellectual History of the Middle Ages this afternoon. It makes my head ache.”
“It would make my head ache, too. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Really. I hope you are. You’ve been looking very tired these last couple of weeks.”
“I’ve been thinking. It wears me out. But you take my advice, you hear me? Never go to bed with anybody unless you really, really want to. Don’t do it just because you feel sorry for this Ned person. Especially don’t do it because you feel sorry for this Ned person.”
“I promise to wear my largest and bluest Miraculous Medal every time Ned and I are out on a date. Thanks again, Chickie. I’ll talk to you on Saturday.”