“You kept praying for the repose of her soul; not his. And at the cemetery,
you almost toppled into the grave. One of the pallbearers grabbed hold of
your arm. I think my family
deserves an apology.”
“I do remember being a bit unsteady, but I was just getting over the flu.”
Jerry Thompson said, “I think you need to apologize to me for that lie.”
Father Benjamin knew it was a lie. He’d been drinking the pastor’s booze all
morning and was fairly looped when he went over to the church for the funeral.
“I apologized to Abbot George for spitting in his face,” Brother Stanley
assured everyone.
A woman said, “I think you’re still in a stage of denial, Benjamin. Don’t you
see how powerless you are over alcohol? How unmanageable your life has
become?”
Brother Stanley chimed in again. “It’s time for you to start taking
responsibility for your actions.”
“Stop blaming others,” someone said.
“I’m not putting blame on anyone,” Father Benjamin replied.
Jerry Thompson wanted to go another round with him. “Remember my
brother, Mike? He
also went to your school, a few years ahead of me. He brought home a dirty
book you’d given his class to read. That wasn’t a very responsible thing to do.”
“I’ll be damned! Why are you bringing up that?”
“You introduced pornography into a Catholic school,” Brother Stanley
charged
“What do you know about literary things?” Father Benjamin shouted at his
confrere.
Marge wrapped her knuckles on the table. “I think we should stop taking
Benjamin’s inventory.” She said to him, “If you don’t have anything to say
about Step Nine, let’s move on.”
Nothing happened. Brother Stanley poked him. “If you aren’t going to talk,
you’re supposed to say, I pass.”
Father Benjamin asked himself: Why did I ever get into this predicament?
He saw what his life was going to be like from now on. It was going to be pretty
dismal traveling to town and back with Brother Stanley week after week. O
Lord, let me get home this evening, he prayed, without killing Brother Stanley.
Everyone had spoken about Step Nine, and it appeared Marge was going
to close the meeting. But she had something else that needed to be
addressed to Father Benjamin specifically. “We all know that becoming drunk
often causes us to lose our inhibitions. I think there is another apology you
need to consider making with regard to a wedding at St. Brigid’s in June.”
Father Parsons, who’d been called away unexpectedly, had requested
Abbot George to provide a substitute.
“It was a lovely wedding,” Father Benjamin said. But to tell the truth, these
six months later, he could not recall what either the bride or the groom looked
like. For that matter, he didn’t remember their names.
“It was my daughter’s wedding,” Marge said. “My husband captured your
improprieties at the reception on his cam recorder. However, I asked him to
erase it. But my family and I would like an apology. Not necessarily now. Later,
as you continue in the program.” Father Benjamin had no idea to what she
was referring, and he was too humiliated to ask.
Then they all stood up and prayed the Lord’s Prayer. Afterwards everyone,
except Father Benjamin, who was unaware of what was expected, said in
unison, “Keep coming back. It works.
If you work it.”
Brother Stanley volunteered to preside at next Wednesday’s meeting.
“Thanks Stanley,” they said, all together again.
“And,” Brother Stanley added, “Benjamin will make the coffee.”
“Thanks Benjamin.”
On the way to car, Father Benjamin commented, “My, but they drink a lot of
coffee.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Brother Stanley said.
* * *
All week long he examined his conscience, but Father Benjamin could not
recollect what he had done at the wedding reception. Marge had suggested
that he should make amends, but for what?
What could he have done that was so upsetting at the wedding
reception? It was something so bad that it had been erased from her husband’
s cam recorder. Although Marge had said the group shouldn’t take his
inventory, she herself would indeed have to tell him what he’d done. The
incident was also erased from his memory.
On Wednesday afternoon, Brother Stanley approached Father Benjamin
and told him, “We’ll have to leave earlier this evening. You’ve got to make the
coffee. Remember?”
At the meeting when his turn came for an introduction, he said, “I’m
Benjamin, and I’m an alcoholic.” He said that every Wednesday evening for
the next month.
For now that’s who he was. Perhaps the time would come when he could be
able to identify himself in the same manner that Bob Kruger did. Maybe
someday he would be able to say, “I’m Benjamin and I’m a grateful alcoholic.”
He might even be able to ask Marge what his improper behavior have been on
the day of her daughter’s wedding.
you almost toppled into the grave. One of the pallbearers grabbed hold of
your arm. I think my family
deserves an apology.”
“I do remember being a bit unsteady, but I was just getting over the flu.”
Jerry Thompson said, “I think you need to apologize to me for that lie.”
Father Benjamin knew it was a lie. He’d been drinking the pastor’s booze all
morning and was fairly looped when he went over to the church for the funeral.
“I apologized to Abbot George for spitting in his face,” Brother Stanley
assured everyone.
A woman said, “I think you’re still in a stage of denial, Benjamin. Don’t you
see how powerless you are over alcohol? How unmanageable your life has
become?”
Brother Stanley chimed in again. “It’s time for you to start taking
responsibility for your actions.”
“Stop blaming others,” someone said.
“I’m not putting blame on anyone,” Father Benjamin replied.
Jerry Thompson wanted to go another round with him. “Remember my
brother, Mike? He
also went to your school, a few years ahead of me. He brought home a dirty
book you’d given his class to read. That wasn’t a very responsible thing to do.”
“I’ll be damned! Why are you bringing up that?”
“You introduced pornography into a Catholic school,” Brother Stanley
charged
“What do you know about literary things?” Father Benjamin shouted at his
confrere.
Marge wrapped her knuckles on the table. “I think we should stop taking
Benjamin’s inventory.” She said to him, “If you don’t have anything to say
about Step Nine, let’s move on.”
Nothing happened. Brother Stanley poked him. “If you aren’t going to talk,
you’re supposed to say, I pass.”
Father Benjamin asked himself: Why did I ever get into this predicament?
He saw what his life was going to be like from now on. It was going to be pretty
dismal traveling to town and back with Brother Stanley week after week. O
Lord, let me get home this evening, he prayed, without killing Brother Stanley.
Everyone had spoken about Step Nine, and it appeared Marge was going
to close the meeting. But she had something else that needed to be
addressed to Father Benjamin specifically. “We all know that becoming drunk
often causes us to lose our inhibitions. I think there is another apology you
need to consider making with regard to a wedding at St. Brigid’s in June.”
Father Parsons, who’d been called away unexpectedly, had requested
Abbot George to provide a substitute.
“It was a lovely wedding,” Father Benjamin said. But to tell the truth, these
six months later, he could not recall what either the bride or the groom looked
like. For that matter, he didn’t remember their names.
“It was my daughter’s wedding,” Marge said. “My husband captured your
improprieties at the reception on his cam recorder. However, I asked him to
erase it. But my family and I would like an apology. Not necessarily now. Later,
as you continue in the program.” Father Benjamin had no idea to what she
was referring, and he was too humiliated to ask.
Then they all stood up and prayed the Lord’s Prayer. Afterwards everyone,
except Father Benjamin, who was unaware of what was expected, said in
unison, “Keep coming back. It works.
If you work it.”
Brother Stanley volunteered to preside at next Wednesday’s meeting.
“Thanks Stanley,” they said, all together again.
“And,” Brother Stanley added, “Benjamin will make the coffee.”
“Thanks Benjamin.”
On the way to car, Father Benjamin commented, “My, but they drink a lot of
coffee.”
“You’ll get used to it,” Brother Stanley said.
* * *
All week long he examined his conscience, but Father Benjamin could not
recollect what he had done at the wedding reception. Marge had suggested
that he should make amends, but for what?
What could he have done that was so upsetting at the wedding
reception? It was something so bad that it had been erased from her husband’
s cam recorder. Although Marge had said the group shouldn’t take his
inventory, she herself would indeed have to tell him what he’d done. The
incident was also erased from his memory.
On Wednesday afternoon, Brother Stanley approached Father Benjamin
and told him, “We’ll have to leave earlier this evening. You’ve got to make the
coffee. Remember?”
At the meeting when his turn came for an introduction, he said, “I’m
Benjamin, and I’m an alcoholic.” He said that every Wednesday evening for
the next month.
For now that’s who he was. Perhaps the time would come when he could be
able to identify himself in the same manner that Bob Kruger did. Maybe
someday he would be able to say, “I’m Benjamin and I’m a grateful alcoholic.”
He might even be able to ask Marge what his improper behavior have been on
the day of her daughter’s wedding.
step nine page two
by
brother benet tvedten
spring 09 shorts on substances
r.kv.r.y. quarterly literary journal
by
brother benet tvedten
spring 09 shorts on substances
r.kv.r.y. quarterly literary journal