It's Hard To Be Holy

EP. 28: Chapter IX

Coarse and Offensive Language. Reader Discretion Advised.

There was a downside to fighting as Bud Carr learned. It wasn't the hurt, that lingering hurt, nor the many days he could barely lift his body out of bed. It wasn't even the accumulative months of being wrapped in heavy, prickling plaster, and the indignations of his mother's hollering, vitriolic criticisms of his character. The greatest problem with fighting as an occupation was that it quickly turned into too much of a good thing.

If this is all I have, reflected the boy after one of the many incidents in which his bones were mangled, then...it's not really much of anything, is it?

He wasn't sure whom he was asking, but by his recollection, it was the first time he ever remembered hearing anything back. A small voice, smooth and silky, like that of a sly character in one of those old films, came from deep within the darkest recess of his thoughts:

You want more than this.

Yes, thought Alfonso Ignatius (the Second). I don't wanna be bored. I wanna feel good...all the time...

You need more than this.

But what more is there in an inherently violent world if you are a child of no great skill?

It was no secret that Bud Carr was an unexceptional fighter. His heart was never as invested in the pursuit as Bobby's, or Vera's. Undoubtedly, there was a future in being a gang, what Bobby had so coyly termed, 'goin' pro.' Better than what the Donahues and Zielinskis had yet to achieve! A real gang, with real respect, and sharp knives and guns, and real blood on the hands...it made the boy Carr liverish to think of! He was adamantly opposed to having blood on his hands. Not for any moral reasoning, but out of a logical, lacking desire to be the bloodied, the stabbed, or the shot.

What comes around, and all that. Right, Bud?

His comprehension of mortality, of finality, was not so developed in those days, but his sense of self-worth was already formidable. Call it arrogance, or ego, but Alfonso Ignatius(the Second) loved himself too much to want to risk losing it all—

But you need more!

Again, he wasn't alone in this want. Edward Towne held a similar viewpoint on the pitiless direction his life was spiraling in, but his opinions were more simplistic than his friend's for they came from a place of practicality. It had something to do with his status as an only child, and the fact that his aunt and uncle, not usual representations of the motley St. Gregorites in Curly's, were decently educated, devoutly religious people, who were resolved to see their nephew follow in their footsteps. In terms of education, college and subsequent degrees were considered unnecessary, but a high school diploma, followed by a good trade school were prerequisites for being a valued member of the Towne clan. An education like that would mean Ed could do more than just survive. If he could achieve an education like that, if he worked hard enough, and God blessed him with such luck, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn't remain a St. Gregorite forever. 

He would be better!

A suburbanite!

That was the ultimate dream for the Townes. The suburbs! Not too far away from Mother-City, but not so close that Ed could easily be lured back into the cycle of oblivion.

Eugene and Claire Towne, (those being the names on the death records that the Author later researched—Alan Carr only referred to them with their proper titles), never viewed St. Gregory's as a final, paradisaical destination for their nephew. For them, the parish was only ever a lot in life. A quagmire! The hope always was that their son, for Edward Joseph Towne was a good as theirs, would exceed their standing. No child, they believed, should be made to suffer the reality of their parents. A child should be liberated enough to choose to leave their home,  to make their own way in the world. It was an enlightened outlook considering that the Townes were one of the oldest families in St. Gregory's, but not all together shocking. If Ed physically resembled the all-American boy, then Eugene and Claire Towne were the ever-ardent adherents to the all-American belief that every generation should have it better than the last. Through hard work, determination, willpower and love, the aunt and uncle believed wholeheartedly that their boy would reasonably meet all expectations.