| [private] musings |
[Aug. 24th, 2006|02:53 pm] |
I just thought of something. I wasn't sure about it because I thought I was imagining it, but I didn't mention it to the police.
Just before I blacked out, one of the men shouted something at me about minding my own business. I've been thinking about it and a horrible thought just occurred to me: I've been looking into Sister Mabel's life and death. I've wondered if she's been shielding one of us. I know that the money used to treat her diabetes regularly went missing. The obvious conclusion to draw from all these is that one of us stole her money and she covered for that person anyway. And now that same person is trying to warn me away from investigating further and finding out who that person is, by getting me beaten up.
Granted, all this is kind of weak. I could be just thinking too much... but when you're lying in bed staring at the ceiling, there's not much else you can do.
And if I'm right, and someone's trying to keep me from finding out the truth about Sister Mabel's death...
I can immediately think of someone who's very comfortable with using brutal methods to solve his problems, but I don't think I should jump to conclusions. He loved Sister Mabel in his own way, as much as I did - I don't think he would steal her money. After all, I haven't been very discreet about my inquiries at the orphanage - anyone who came to visit might have found out that I've been trying to piece together Sister Mabel's life story. So I can't assume it's Andy.
And anyway all this really is nothing more than mere speculation... It could be just a case of mistaken identity like the cops said, and I'm just letting my overactive imagination run away with me. I guess the medication doesn't help, either.
Shit, my thumb hurts. |
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| tired |
[Aug. 24th, 2006|10:00 am] |
Hey guys, I'm back. I just woke up from a long nap... feeling much better now. Sarah did wonders, I have to admit. Thanks to those who emailed me asking how I am. I'm ok now, but I'm not staying long, because I have this pile of work that Sarah left on my desk and the bed is beckoning temptingly to me...
She made a long post about her visit, so if you don't know what happened you can visit ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) sarahownzduane and read about it. She just neglected to mention that I didn't get up immediately because I was unconscious. It's kind of hard to get up and walk when you've hit your head on a hard boot and you're out like a light. I was only awakened by the rain.
She also didn't say that I did make a police report while at the hospital. Two cops came down and talked to me. They took some notes and then they left. I gave a good description of the two guys, but somehow, from the cops' expressions, I don't think they're gonna bust a gut trying to catch my assailants. Seems like incidents like these happen all the time, and they think it was probably a case of mistaken identity. Maybe I have a common sort of face, huh?
But I feel really low right now... I haven't been beaten up like that since childhood and it brought back some really painful memories. I hate that feeling of helplessness just before the next blow lands... I don't intend to be the victim all my life, but on the other hand the memory of my father looms large in my mind and I never want to be like that either. So... talk about being caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.
Speaking of which, I'm completely messing up my study life, being in and out of hospital and whatnot. I'll probably have to repeat a semester. Kiltrex, the people who are sponsoring my study grant, are being very kind and offering to cover the extra semester too, because of my good grades so far. But there are some strings attached, and I'm wondering whether to take them up on it. Actually, I don't have any real choice... I haven't come this far to drop it all.
This is turning out to be a longer post than I planned, and I can't stand looking at the screen anymore, so I'll go back to bed. Work can wait. Later! |
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| [private] |
[Aug. 20th, 2006|01:36 pm] |
I don't understand why Sarah tells him stuff she hasn't told me in the one year I've known her...
And Sister Mabel occupies my every waking moment.
Presentation tomorrow. I'm not prepared. I'm gonna die in front of the audience.
Yeah, I wish... |
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| The story of Madeline Quinn |
[Aug. 17th, 2006|01:17 pm] |
I've been returning to St Nicholas's often enough that the sisters have begun to trust me again, and they allowed me to look through Sister Mabel's things. I found several things, among them a diary and a bundle of letters, and from all these and from talking to the orphanage staff, I've managed to piece together the story I'm about to tell...
Sister Mabel was born Madeline Quinn in County Clare, Ireland. Her family was considered quite well-off, all things considering, and as the eldest of three daughters, with no sons, the family had great hopes for her. But she fell in love with a young man, whose name I couldn't discover, and when he asked her to go with him to seek his fortune in America, she agreed.
Once here, they tried to have a life together for a while, but for reasons that I couldn't find out they separated after about a year. Madeline wanted to return home but found that her family no longer wanted her back. She decided to settle down in America by herself. It was a hard life for a young woman by herself. She was a maid, a cleaner, a domestic servant... And finally she gained independence and citizenship.
When she was 42 she made her decision to devote her life to God. She had been a devout Catholic from childhood and she believed that God had seen her through her hard times. She felt that she needed to repay that debt. So she took the name of Sister Mabel.
At the age of 47 she came to St Nicholas's Children's Home, and she worked and lived there until her death at the age of 79, from liver cancer compounded by diabetes, which she had developed in her later years.
That was all I managed to find out so far. I never knew she had diabetes... The orphanage paid part of her medical bills, and she had to pay the rest herself. Her family in Ireland refused to help... it was mostly the staff at St Nicholas's that provided the money. This last bit was told to me by Sister Joan, who's been here almost as long as Sister Mabel. She also mentioned that funds to take care of Sister Mabel's medical bills were always hard to come by and that they were almost always in debt after Sister Mabel developed cancer.
I still want to fill in the blanks. I don't know if I can ever do that, but I want to try... |
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| This is crazy... |
[Aug. 11th, 2006|06:14 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  uncomfortable | ] |
I haven't had a good night's sleep since...
...
Well. It feels weird not talking to Sarah in school. Her friends give me hard looks or don't even look at me at all. I can't help but feel like the bad guy. Just what am I missing here!?
I've been finding out so much about Sister Mabel. She was really a woman I never knew, a human being with very human hopes and dreams. I would like to say it all here, but I don't know if it's a good idea at the moment.
What I can say, though, is that every time I ask about her death, people shut up. I really don't understand that part. I mean, I know she died of cancer. Why get so tight-lipped about it? |
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| [private] It's always my fault, right? |
[Aug. 9th, 2006|10:01 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  cold | ] |
Shit... what the hell just happened??
Here I was minding my own business, and suddenly she flips out. Out of the blue she went ballistic on me! What did I miss here? Sure, I've been preoccupied. Sure, I've been growing more short-tempered. But I just couldn't tell her why yet! What can I tell her? Oh, Sarah, I've been back to the orphanage. Yeah, I took the old man on the bus so seriously I went back to inquire about Sister Mabel's past. I realized that all these years I never really knew her as a person. I knew her as my mother and that was all. And I found out that I wasn't the only one she shielded. She lied about almost every kid she looked after. She took away all our faults and made us perfect. She took the burden of our sins upon her. Don't you think that would bug me?
And I couldn't tell Sarah, because she'd brush me off. Firstly, that I took Father Abraham seriously. Secondly, that I'm taking Sister Mabel seriously. I can't tell her anything! She just barrells ahead and mows down any obstacle in her way. I liked that about her. I liked that she could see the bright side of everything. I liked that she never let anything get her down. And I'm grateful that she chose to stick by me...
But now, that same hard-headed optimism is really ticking me off. Some things really are sacred. Maybe it was my religious upbringing that made me more sensitive to these things. Maybe it was Sister Mabel's influence. But you just can't treat all of life as a minor thing.
And I don't know what the fuck happened but she's suddenly on Andrew's side. Andrew, the guy who more than once caught me alone in the boys' shower and left me crying and bleeding and choking in the water. It didn't help that the boys' shower didn't have a secure lock. Everyone knew you could unlock it by sticking a coin in it. The guy was a fucking monster. Yes, he's polite and civil and talks like a sane person now. And I'm more than happy to leave the past behind and start over new, but at the same time I can't help but feel betrayed. She hardly knows him!
...
... It's ironic that now she doesn't want me to talk to her, I have no choice but to write here. I can't stand it, I need to say it, even if it's to an unfeeling unresponsive unthinking machine. Actually, I think it's better this way. No one to pass judgement on me... because I'm my own judge.
Oh, God.
Anyway, I'm gonna see if I can find out more about Sister Mabel. I owe it to her to get to know her better now, even if I never did that when she was alive. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 30th, 2006|11:10 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | uncomfortable | ] |
So this is what happened:
I had only one lecture today, since the Hegel lecture was cancelled. I decided to take the bus to the library downtown to just browse around. The university library is good but all it has is academic material, and I really want to get some good novels to read.
Anyway, on the bus, I met Father Abraham. I remember him as a big, silent man who only occasionally appeared where we kids could see him. I was totally in awe of him. If you had told me he was God's right-hand man, I think I would have believed you.
He didn't look quite as big now. He just looked old, much older, and very tired. I wondered if I should go and say something to him. In the end I decided that this could very well be the last time I ever saw him, so I went up and said hi. I don't think he remembered me, but his face is still as expressionless as ever, so I couldn't really tell. He just greeted me in his slow, heavy voice and asked me what I was doing now. I told him, and I said that I had just been back to the orphanage a month or so ago, to see Sister Mabel. He nodded and said that he officiated at her funeral. I didn't know that. I didn't attend her funeral... I wanted to remember her alive, and smiling. But I didn't explain this to Father Abraham. I don't think he would have understood...
Then he said something really strange. He said, "She was a woman with a lot of secrets. Everything she did, she did for you children, but I don't agree with a lot of the things she did. She spared the rod much too often. Well, I'm not surprised that the Lord called her home for it."
I didn't understand that last part at all. I wanted to ask him about it, but he was droning on about something else, and I couldn't find any subtle way to change the subject without seeming like I was interrogating him.
What did he mean? I know she had secrets, but I don't think it was anything punishable. Sister Mabel was a beautiful woman. If God let her die because of anything she did to protect us, then I don't think much of God's idea of justice.
Or did he mean something else? |
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| I don't believe it! |
[Jul. 29th, 2006|01:11 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  happy | ] |
I finally got that new album I've wanted for so long! Keane's Under the Iron Sea. I haven't really listened to it yet but I'm really excited. I really liked their first album which Sarah lent me. I might go buy myself a copy of that too.
Excuse me, I'm going to lie down and relax a bit now and listen to music! |
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| [friends only] shit |
[Jul. 28th, 2006|11:26 am] |
What the fuck! Speak of the devil. akadler... how the hell did he find me?
Maybe... maybe he's changed. Maybe he's not like what I remember.
Although judging from his journal, I guess I'm hoping against hope. God please let him be different now. I don't know if I can stand this on top of everything else at this point of time. |
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| (no subject) |
[Jul. 27th, 2006|02:00 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  pensive | ] |
Whew, that was an intense session on Socrates. I'm not sure I like that guy's thinking. He's so single minded. But I seem to be in the minority - most of the class argued that Socrates was ahead of his time. But it was an interesting discussion anyway.
Which reminds me that I need to ask Benjy for his outline, or else we'll never finish that paper on time.
I hear that I'm certified loony where some of the people at MU are concerned, because of that time I spent in the hospital. The official word is that I was burned out by the stress of adjusting to the new school... But people aren't really that stupid, at least not around here. So today I heard someone talk about "that crazy guy", and I sneaked a look and they were bobbing their heads at me, the way you do when you're indicating someone without really pointing. So here I am with the possible labels of "crazy" and "murderer" hanging over my head. Kind of like Prof Maynard all those years back... Karma does strange things.
It's true that not all the people here believe that stuff, though. Most people treat me normally. There's just that certain brand of gossip-mongers who like to pretend they know everything. So if you're getting the idea that I'm some kind of weirdo, I'm not. I really am just a regular Joe... |
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