Chapter 9

Elaine met my flight at the San Francisco airport. The first words out of her mouth were, “Where’s Michael? I asked you to bring him with you.”
    “He’ll be here in the morning.”
    “That may be too late.”
    “We’re lucky he’s coming at all. By the way, I want to meet with the physicists in your group while I’m here.”
    “What for?”
    “Perhaps I can learn something that will help me find the Final Story.”
    “You told me you were finished with that nonsense.”
    “Will you arrange a meeting?”
    “I want you to apologize to mother for the heartache you’ve caused her.”
    “Will she change her will?”
    “How can you think of money at a time like this?”
    “I’m broke.”
    “Your inheritance won’t help. You’re only getting $5,000.”
    “I guess her millions go to the dutiful daughter.”
    “I’m getting $5,000. The rest is going into a charitable foundation.”
    When we got to mother’s house on Lombard Street, Elaine led the way upstairs to the bedroom. “She blamed herself that you left the church.”
    “How many times have you told me that?”
    “She hasn’t been to Mass in five years because she believed she failed in her duty to God.”
    “Mother always wanted to be Saint Monica.”
    “Don’t make light of this, Paul.”
    “What do you want me to do?”
    “Tell her you’ve come back to the church.”
    “I won’t do that.”
    “Then tell her you’re sorry for her suffering, and for anything you may have done to cause it.”
    We entered mother’s bedroom and Elaine asked the nurse to wait downstairs. Even with the covers pulled up, I could see mother’s stomach swollen from the cancer.
    “Let’s come back when she’s awake, Elaine.”
    “No, she doesn’t sleep anymore. She just dozes off and on from the medication.” Elaine touched mother’s arm, and mother opened her eyes.
    “Look who’s here, Mother.”
    Mother didn’t seem to recognize me.
    “It’s Paul, Mother. Paul’s come home.”
    Mother looked at Elaine and then straight ahead, blankly. Elaine silently mouthed, “Say something.”
    “It’s been a long time, Mother. Too long. I’m sorry. I should have come sooner.”
    Mother made no response. She continued to stare straight ahead. Elaine put her hand to her mouth and her eyes teared. “I thought the two of you would fight. I didn’t expect her to be passive.”
    “Maybe she doesn’t know me.”
    Elaine shook her head. “She’s very alert. It’s remarkable. I should leave the two of you alone.”
    When Elaine left the room, I felt awkward standing at the foot of mother’s bed. I went over to the nurse’s chair by the window and brought it to the side of the bed.
    “I am sorry I didn’t come sooner. Elaine told me you haven’t been to Mass in five years. I find that impossible to believe, Mother. You were always a daily communicant.”
    I waited for her to speak. “Please, say something, Mother.”
    Still no response.
    “I’m sorry for the suffering I’ve caused you, Mother. I don’t think you should burden yourself with my leaving the church. It had nothing to do with my upbringing.”
    Mother’s eyes blinked but did not look at me.
    “Elaine wants me to tell you I’ve come back to the church. I have not come back to the church, and I won’t lie to you. But I do regret any suffering my leaving caused you.”
    Mother’s expression revealed no emotion.
    “Something happened last week, something that convinced me this world is strange beyond anyone’s wildest imagination. Jesus came to me and asked me to follow him, but I refused, Mother.”
    Still no response.
    “You taught me to love God more than myself and I didn’t listen. Everything is my fault, Mother, not yours. I regret most of all anything I may have done to lead others astray. I have a friend in New York. His name is John Clay. He is everything I am not. He warns others against making the mistakes I have encouraged.”
    “Renounce your book.”
    Mother surprised me. I didn’t think she could speak.
    “The novel is fiction. It means nothing. It was what I said on talk shows and during lectures that was harmful.”
    “You learned something from that experience last week. Tell the world what you’ve told me.”
    “You don’t know what you’re asking …”
    “I’m asking you to repent publicly.”
    “I can’t renounce who I am, Mother.”
    “And who are you, son? It is pride that hardened your heart against God.”
    “Can you forgive me?”
    “It is not my forgiveness that you need.”
    “I am truly sorry I’ve been a disappointment to you, Mother.”
    “Saying you’re sorry means nothing. You were proud in public. Now, you must humble yourself in public.”
    Mother closed her eyes and neither of us spoke again. Finally, Elaine opened the bedroom door and motioned me to come into the hall.
    “How did it go?”
    “I did what you asked.”
    “You apologized? What did mother say?”
    “Well…she…I…”
    Elaine took my hand. “It’s her medication. You can try again later.”
    “Ummm,” I said.
    Elaine prepared dinner. She offered me the guest bedroom, but I had a reservation downtown at the Sierra Hotel on Powell Street across from Union Square.
    “Well, then let me drive you,” she said.
    “Stay with mother. I can take the cable car to my hotel.”
    I caught the Hyde Street cable car at the crest of Russian Hill a half block from mother’s house. It was dusk, and the lights in Marin County and in Oakland were visible. Fog was rolling under the Golden Gate Bridge from the Pacific Ocean.

Chapter 9 continued