Penguin Car Wash

Saturday morning and instead of playing ball or riding dirt bikes we were on our way to wash the Penguins car as some form of punishment for being habitually late for catechism class. It was difficult riding through Memorial School as the baseball diamond was on the far side of the school and we could see there was a game in progress as we approached. We dragged our ass the last hundred feet or so as we watched the guys playing baseball. This seemed like an awfully harsh punishment for being late. The British Invasion was dominating the radio waves, muscle cars like Camaros, Mustangs, GTO’s were ruling the streets, the war in Vietnam was escalating and hippies were blossoming during the spring of 1965 and here we were at St Bartholomew’s Convent washing the penguin’s station wagon. It just didn’t seem fair.

The Penguins were all piling into a buss when we arrived. Apparently they were all going on a field trip. A look or relief was on Sister Leonard’s face as we got off our bikes. “Good you are here. I was doubting you two would show.” “Listen we are all going to a museum and won’t be back until around 2 PM. “Who’s going to move the car out of the garage?” I asked Sister Leonard. “Mother Mary is the only one with a license and she’s gone ahead on the first bus,” declared Sister Leonard. “Well that’s just our luck. Now we can’t wash the car in the garage can we?” Gary so imphatically stated. As we were getting back on our bikes ready to make an escape Sister Leonard remembered that Mother Mary always left a second key in the kitchen. She halted our departure and went to retrieve the key. Upon returning she asked all of the other Penguins if they knew how to back the car out of the garage. None of them responded so I put my foot in my mouth and told Sister Leonard that I always pulled my dad’s car out of the garage (which was true, but not a good time to confess this particular skill). “Thanks a lot,” Gary whispered. “Now mind you, be careful young man and just back it out and put it right back when you’re finished,” bellowed Sister Leonard. “Yea, yea sure we’ll do just fine,” declared Gary.

The Sisters finished boarding the bus and were soon out of sight. Gary had a ginormous smile on his face as the bus faded out of sight. He held up the keys and said, “Who’s driving first?” “We can’t drive the penguin’s car.” I exclaimed. “Are you kidding Pat why not? Who is gonna know? Nobody that’s who. They are all gone. We have 5 hours until they return.” “Damn Gary you’re right. We’ll take it for a joy ride then wash it like it was new! They will never know.”

At first we were just driving the wagon around the parking lot but then when the baseball game ended we took it on the field and drove it over the pitcher’s mound to get some air! We were skidding all around the bases just smoke and dust everywhere. Then we took it back into the unfinished parking lot (pebbles) and did donuts around the statue by the rectory. This was so much fun when you’re 12. Some punishment we were having a blast. We took turns till we were too tired to continue. I pulled the car in front of the garage and we got out the hose and soap. First we washed the car and it was really dirty after driving the bases and then we hosed out the garage so it looked like we did a really good job. We cleaned the inside of the car and windexed all the windows. We left the key on the kitchen counter with a note that we hoped they all had a good time. Days went buy and nothing happened so we totally thought we’d gotten away with one.

The next Sunday I was serving the 9 o’clock mass with Father Kelly. Prior to mass it is standard protochol for alter boys to enter the Priest’s Sacristy to confess just right in front of the priest not in the confessional. I told him my sins which consisted of lying, cursing, thinking improper thoughts and maybe stealing an apple or two. I was all ready for Father Kelly to tell me to ”make a good act of contrition and for penance say 5 Hail Marys and 5 Our Fathers.” But that didn’t happen. He seemed somewhat deliberate as he spoke, “are you sure that’s all your sins son?” I looked up from kneeling and my eyes met his and I could tell he knew something. So I cleared my throat and said, “that’s what I remember.” “Think harder,” said Father Kelly. “Think about last Saturday when you and Gary were driving the sister’s car around the statue of St. Bartholomew.” I could feel my knees tremble. Wow, he knew. He must have seen us from the rectory. I thought our goose was cooked. I thought for sure he’d tell the Sisters and we’d be punished something wicked. But that didn’t happen. Father Kelly just had me admit what we did was dangerous, disobedient, and required additional penance. He suggested we helped set up the bingo tables for the next four Saturdays which I gladly agreed to. During mass all I could think of is why he didn’t stop us from driving and then not to tell the sisters. To this day I really don’t know but if I had to guess I think Father Kelly enjoyed watching us having fun and in a way was a big kid himself.