staying? But I was too numb with cold and fear to speak.
After listening to the soothing tones of the small
congregation repeatedly praying the Hail Mary, my nerves
began to calm down. I still didn’t quite trust myself to
stand alone, but I thought I’d be able to in another few
minutes.
Then came the second girl. There she was, surrounded by
those orange jackets. There was that yellow vest, shunted
off to the side. There were those tears. There were the
eyes, staring into my soul with an almost pleading look.
There was the final step, followed by the slamming of the
door. There was nothing more to do.
Everything swam before my eyes. The stone structure
seemed to shudder and blur as I tried to focus on it. And
the pavement beneath my feet rocked like an ocean swell.
What was happening?
“Those kids can’t stay here,” I heard a gruff voice mutter
to its partner, although the words had no meaning to me
at first.
“What do you mean? I don’t want them here either, but at
least they’re in a legal spot.”
“The girls. They keep looking right over at those two. And
I’ve been in there — they’re talking about
their
guys.”
“Just ignore it. They’ll be next,” he said, malice in his
voice. Then the two moved away.
It was right about this time that I was able to look around
and comprehend everything again. Liam and I were sitting
on the ground, and he still held me closely. One of the
mini-congregation was kneeling beside us. “Are you two
alright?” she asked Liam.
“Yeah, I think we’ll be fine. This is her first time, and it’s a
little much.”
“I understand. I remember my first visit. . . here, take
these,” she said, handing Liam two Rosaries. “You’ll find
them useful. And you two keep standing right where you
are. I saw those girls looking right at you as they come in.
What a wonderful witness.”
There Will Be Hope | Zoe Krauskopf | Grade 11
15
BAYLEY BULLETIN, MAR-MAY 2016
