The Blessed - By Tonya Hurley Page 0,92

life, hoping to get some acknowledgment from him—a smile, a glance, anything—without much luck. He was standing with a middle-aged woman, a nun, before a handmade hanging figure. Agnes wanted to scream out to him, but checked herself and listened in on his lesson instead.

“The seven points on the piñata symbolize the seven deadly sins,” the sister explained, pointing a thin wooden rod at each. “Greed. Lust. Pride. Despair. Wrath. Sloth. Envy.”

The nun raised a strip of cloth in front of the boy’s face, folded it over, and began to tie it around his head. Once it was secure, she gently turned him in a circle a few times, explaining to him the deeper meaning to be found in this traditional game.

Agnes swallowed hard. The image of the blinded child disturbed her.

“The blindfolded person represents faith. Turning symbolizes the disorientation of temptation.”

She placed the stick in Jude’s hand and instructed him to begin. Agnes was nervous for him. She’d played this game countless times at birthday parties. It was hard and he was not “typical,” from what she’d seen.

“Striking the piñata recalls the battle against evil. Defeat it and the reward is revealed.”

Heavy shit for a kid, was all Agnes could think as she listened.

Jude held the rod in front of him and grabbed it with his other hand, steadying it. He tapped the piñata once, taking a measure of the distance between him and the suspended object. He drew the stick back up and over his head like a knight with a broadsword. Agnes could almost see how badly he wanted the candy inside from the grimace on his face as he swung at the piñata. He smacked it top and bottom, side to side. Agnes was surprised at how on target he was, but there was no sign of damage.

Jude was obviously frustrated and getting upset the longer the game went on. The nun removed the stick from his hand and struck the piñata herself, also without result. She handed it back to him.

“Again,” she said, counseling both patience and perseverance.

The boy swung and turned the stick over to the teacher, who did likewise. Over and over.

Agnes marveled that this was possibly the first combination of religious instruction and occupational therapy she’d ever seen. Other children began to turn their heads toward Jude, counting the strokes and licking their lips impatiently in anticipation of the sweets they hoped would eventually escape. For her part, Agnes was beginning to feel bad for the piñata.

The nun’s next swing was a productive one. She made a dent. But then Jude took his turn and cracked it wide open with a mighty whack. The candy spilled and children came running.

“See, Jude,” the nun said, kneeling to help the children collect their sugary treasure. “You can’t always do it alone. Everyone has a part to play.”

Agnes smiled, not just at the boy and his achievement but also at the thought of Sebastian, Cecilia, and Lucy that came to her in that moment. There was more than a lesson in the game, Agnes felt. There was a message. A message for her.

To her surprise, Jude removed his blindfold and looked directly over at Agnes as if he’d known she was there all along. She beckoned him, and the boy, taking the opportunity while the nun was distracted, ran over to her, forgoing the candy he’d earned.

“I told him,” Agnes said.

The boy kissed her through the chain link.

“There are snakes behind the rocks. You might not see them. But you know they’re there,” Jude said in a whisper.

Just then the nun ran over and grabbed Jude’s hand.

“You shouldn’t run away like that,” the nun said sternly, looking him directly in his eyes.

“I think he wanted to tell me something,” Agnes offered, hoping to keep the boy out of trouble.

“I’m sorry, but that’s impossible,” she said to Agnes. “He’s nonverbal. He doesn’t talk.”

13 Cecilia awoke to piss-warm rain leaking through the street grate above and onto her in the filthy, white-tiled corner of the subway station she presently called home. She opened her eyes to confirm that it was indeed rain and not some pervert or bum getting his jollies by relieving himself on her. Or something worse.

She’d ducked into the subway for a nap the night before and had the eerie feeling she was being followed. The subway wasn’t exactly the best place to hide, but it was the brightest place at that time of night, and that was a plus. Turns out she wasn’t