The Greatest Evil by William X. Kienzle Read Free Book Online Page A

He just tolerates it. And the first effect is more important than the second. That about it?”
    “That’s about it.”
    “Hey,” Wonski exclaimed, “here come my folks!” A fairly new and brightly polished Ford pulled up behind the two seminarians. The car windows were filled with happy faces. “Thanks a lot,” Wonski said as he turned to greet his relatives.
    Delvecchio smiled and continued his pacing, now alone.
    Wonski, thought Delvecchio, was by no means slow—or dumb. He had come from Orchard Lake Seminary, where most of his classes were conducted in English. At Sacred Heart Seminary, most of the courses, particularly the important Philosophy studies, were in Latin.
    Cardinal Edward Mooney wanted Moral, Dogma, and Canon Law taught in Latin at St. John’s. Mooney’s wish was the faculty’s command. As a result, many of the young men from Orchard Lake were handicapped by this heavy immersion in Latin. Latin texts, lectures, verbal responses, tests.
    If the Orchard Lake guys could paraphrase Shakespeare’s Casca, they would say some such thing as, “The faculty of St. John’s did in Latin speak. And those who did understand did nod their heads. But as for me, it was Latin to me.”
    By far, the majority of St. John’s students came from Sacred Heart. But young men choosing to become priests had so much in common that in no time it was difficult to tell who had come from where. Simply, they were students together open to the formation of new friendships.
    Delvecchio jumped at the unexpected sound of a horn directly behind him. The serviceable Chevy was grimy; “Wash me” was traced more than a few times in the dust.
    The troops got out of the car. There was his mother, Louise. His father had died very prematurely of a heart attack two years earlier. Then there was his younger brother, Anthony, and his sister, Lucy—the baby of the litter. Finally, there was his aunt Martha, Louise’s sister, and Martha’s husband, Frank. The car belonged to Frank and the caked dirt was emblematic of his lifestyle: laid-back and friendly.
    “What say we go down to one of the visitors’ parlors,” Vince invited. “It’d be nice to stay outside, but with the gang we’ve got we’d be strung out so far we’d never hear each other.”
    All nodded as they voiced agreement.
    Happily, the parlor was nearly empty, as most of the students and visitors chose to stay out of doors.
    No sooner were they seated than everyone began to speak at once. Vincent determined to play interlocutor.
    His mother, given the floor, expressed gratitude that everyone was in good health. And was Vincent getting enough to eat? She remembered all too well loading Vincent up with huge jars of peanut butter. At Sacred Heart, though, students lived on closely measured rations, they could have all the bread they wanted. That and the peanut butter sustained them.
    Vincent assured his family that he was now eating about as well as he had at home; he simply couldn’t gain weight. A blessing perhaps, since an overweight body had laid too heavy a burden on his father’s heart.
    Vince’s mother was petite, with olive skin bespeaking her Sicilian ancestry. She wore a dark blue cloth coat, pillbox, and sensible shoes. In short, she looked as if she were headed for church. As far as she was concerned, visiting her adored son in a seminary was about the same as going to Mass.
    Her late husband, Sam, from whom Vincent got his height, had left Louise quite well-off, sufficiently so that she didn’t need to work outside her home.
    Anthony, now a senior at De LaSalle Collegiate High School, was a gifted athlete. He would be offered more than a few athletic scholarships. So far, he had spent much more time exercising his muscles than his brain. This concerned Vincent, who was appalled at the prospect of his brother’s wasting talents that could otherwise see him nicely through his later years.
    Lucy was in the eighth grade at St. William’s. The embodiment of