Free The Gathering by William X. Kienzle Page B

had learned, through their son, of the closeness of Brother Vincent and Manny. They were certain that the Brother had approved of Manny’s defense of his rights.
    The Smiths were somewhat concerned over the influence integration would have on Rose and Michael. In particular they wondered what, if any, effect such integration would have on plans for the twins’ vocations.
    The Sisters had taught Michael for his first six school years. Then, in the seventh grade, the Brothers had taken over. Now Michael would have but one additional year with the Sisters.
    Then he’d be off to the seminary, to be taught again by men. But this time by priests—the cream of the crop.
    The Smiths, Henry and Lucy, wanted an undemanding life. Didn’t everyone?
    Their own lives were in apple-pie order. They belonged to the one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic Church. Their Church had laws, lots of them. But if you kept those laws, heaven was assured you. Don’t kill, unless it is justifiable. Don’t covet: wives or goods. These laws also inveighed against immoral thoughts, which, as long as they remained thoughts, were venial, not mortal. Or, as the joke had it: A priest asks a confessing parishioner whether the man had entertained impure thoughts. “No,” the sinner replied, “they entertained me.”
    As for coveting goods: It was all right to want a car like one’s neighbor had—but not okay to want one’s neighbor’s car.
    And so on they went, through Ten Commandments, 2,414 laws, and more. Priests were expected to at least be familiar with almost all of them. As for lay Catholics, they knew that they must attend Mass on Sunday and financially support the local parish.
    The point was that as long as one did not seriously violate any of the significant laws, all was relatively well.
    As for what was expected of lay Catholics, the Church took it as a given that their personal lives would be properly ordered. Most would marry before a priest and in the presence of two witnesses. They would have marital relations, every act of which must be open to the creation of new life; no artificial birth control. They would have children, likely more than they would have planned—or could really afford.
    If a Catholic family had the supreme good fortune to have one or more of its children enter religious life—priest, Sister, or Brother—parental responsibility would stop at the door of the rectory or the convent or the religious domicile.
    The Smiths were batting one thousand on all counts. They did not want the cart toppled. Thus their concern over their twins’ gender separation in school.
    Michael would have his one and only scholastic experience with girls in class this coming year. What could happen with sharing a classroom with eighth grade girls?
    Plenty. Henry Smith well remembered the onslaught of teen puberty. It was awful— having those urges and no place to put them. For the coming year Henry would keep his son on a short tether.
    Then there was Rose. For a young lady she had her act pretty much together. But Lucy remembered her own early teen years. Girls that age discovered that they could be both desirable and desired. They, too, could have raging hormones.
    And Rose was not going to go through just one year of mingling, as was Michael. She would have five years to keep herself virginal and chaste. School—even a Catholic school—could do only so much to safeguard the adolescent girl. Both Henry and Lucy would keep a special eye on their exemplary daughter.
    They would shepherd their twins along the path toward religious life. If this enterprise was successful, their children would be delivered to the Lord intact. After that, it was His problem. Henry and Lucy would have heaven locked up.
    It was left to the McManns to see to their daughter on their own. This was not a familiar position for Nat and June McMann. In a way, they played follow the leader. And their leaders, in almost every endeavor, were the Smiths. It was an effort