excerpt
“What are you doing here?” he asked them.
“You said, if I needed something to look you up,” Marcus
said.
“Come, come from the main door….” He said and ran to
his hallway and to the main entrance. He opened the door. Both
Marcus and his sister followed George to his apartment.
“What happened to you? You’re drenched.”
“I killed him,” Marcus said.
George’s mouth gaped. His eyebrows frown, a deep
furrow appeared between them. He showed them to sit.
“Who’s the person you killed?” he asked Marcus.
“Father Thomas; he raped my sister,” the youth answered.
“How did you do this?”
“With your kitchen knife,” the youth replied.
“What did you do with the knife?”
“I threw it in the river.”
“Well, that’s good,” “that you threw it away,” he added.
“Stay here, don’t open the door, stay quiet, try to dry up a little;
you’re drenched. I’ll go get Anton,” The cook said and after he
gave each of them a towel to dry up a little and a jacket to cover
themselves and warm up a little he put on his shoes and leaving
them in his place he went towards Anton’s house six blocks away.
In the meantime the two constables who arrived at the
Indian Residential School examined Father Thomas’s body and
called the Medical Examiner to show up pronto to which the
person on the other side of the phone line said he’d do his best.
The eyes of both constables perused around the small foyer that
led upstairs and wondered who could have done such horrible
act: to kill a priest and teacher at this government facility run by
the Catholic Church? They too had heard the horror stories of
children abused within these walls, they knew people in the city…
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