Freddy's Troubled Past

Chapter 1 troubled past

The iron gates screeched open, allowing the black sedan to pull up the winding driveway. Sister Mary Helena stepped out from the backseat, her gaze fixed on the looming granite structure ahead. Saint Joseph's Orphanage for Boys cast long shadows across the yellowed grass in the morning light.

"Welcome to your new home, Freddy," Sister Mary Helena said.

The boy peered up at her from beneath a tangled mop of dirty blonde hair, his blue eyes flickering with something between fear and defiance. He couldn't have been more than nine years old. Freddy grabbed his small suitcase and followed the nun up the stone steps to the heavy oak doors.

Inside, their footsteps echoed down the dim hallway. Fading portraits of religious figures watched them pass by darkened rooms. The air hung heavy with the scent of incense and candle wax.

"You'll meet the other children at mass this evening," Sister Mary Helena explained as they climbed the creaking staircase. She glanced over her shoulder at the sullen boy, taking note of his wrinkled clothes and the bruising along his slender arms. Whatever hardship had befallen him before arriving here, she could only hope the shelter of the orphanage would provide some salve for those wounds.

They arrived at the end of a long corridor lined with identical wooden doors. The nun selected a room and pushed open the door to reveal a humble living space furnished only with a single bed, a dresser, and a kneeler for prayer.

"I know it's not much," she said. "But we aim to provide structure and purpose for boys who have lost their way. In time, you'll come to see this as home."

Freddy didn't respond. He avoided her pitying gaze and hurried into the room.

Sister Mary Helena lingered in the doorway as the boy tossed his suitcase onto the bed. She hesitated, wanting to say something to comfort him, but thought better of it. Best allow him time to adjust, she decided.

"I'll return this evening before mass," she said. "You may stay here and get settled until then."

Freddy remained facing away from her, staring out the room's lone window at the encroaching forest behind the orphanage. Sister Mary Helena waited, but when no reply came, she retreated down the hall, leaving the boy alone with his ghosts.

When the nun returned hours later, she found Freddy in the same position at the window. The unpacked suitcase still lay on the bed.

"It's time for mass," she announced from the doorway. "Come along and meet your fellow orphan boys."

Finally turning to face her, Freddy's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going."

"I'm afraid church attendance is mandatory here at Saint Joseph's," she said firmly. When he didn't move, she added, "You came here for guidance and structure, did you not?"

Freddy crossed his arms. "Maybe I changed my mind."

Sister Mary Helena sensed the rage simmering beneath the boy's defiance. She softened her tone. "Mass provides an opportunity for reflection. Only by facing our inner darkness can we hope to find the light."

Something in her kind words seemed to resonate ever so slightly within the troubled boy. After a stubborn pause, Freddy finally shuffled after her out to the candlelit chapel. He took a seat in the very last pew, separating himself from the other orphans filing in.

As the priest began the call-and-response, Sister Mary Helena frequently glanced back at their new charge. Freddy remained slouched on the hard wooden bench, his responses barely audible. While the other boys followed along intently with their missals, he stared off at nothing.

After mass, the nun confronted him in the chapel ambulatory. "Why do you isolate yourself so?" she asked. "The other boys could prove good friends and positive influences."