Their Saturday routine was always the same. In the morning, they would finish any school homework left over from the previous evening. After they’d had their lunch, the afternoon would be spent weeding the vegetable garden. If they were lucky, there was time for a quick game of football amongst the three of them before their mother called them back inside for bath time. Mass was at 9:00 AM the following morning so it was important to clean off all the dirt from the afternoon’s work. ‘I want you spotless going up to Holy Communion tomorrow morning,’ their mother would say as she checked their hands to make sure all the mud and grass stains from the weeding had been completely washed away.
There was actually no need to weed the vegetables every week. However, it was part of the boys’ tasks – designed by their parents to keep them busy and ‘out of trouble’. The boys, themselves, found it an enjoyable enough way to spend a Saturday afternoon. They all followed English soccer teams. When they had eaten their lunch, they would wrap the kitchen radio in a plastic bag and bring it out with them to the garden. From there, they could listen to a match commentary while working their way down each ridge of vegetables.
That Saturday morning had started brightly enough. It wasn’t until just before lunchtime that the heaven’s opened. It wasn’t just a shower either. This was very heavy persistence rain that would drench you to the skin if you were unfortunate enough to be out in it. When it hadn’t stopped after half an hour, the boys assumed they would be excused the weeding session. They were already making plans to spend a warm afternoon in front of the fire listening to the radio. Their parents were having none of it. The two of them were heading into the local town for a couple of hours to do the weekly grocery shopping. Before they left, they made sure the unhappy trio had put on their rain gear and were on their way to the garden.
By the time the parents returned, the rain had finally stopped. The boys had finished the weeding and were back inside the house. They had left their coats and hats out in the back porch to dry. Later, their mother checked the vegetable garden and announced herself satisfied with the afternoon’s work. After dinner, the boys lazed in front of the TV while their mother boiled large kettles of water on the range in preparation for bath time. She went into the back porch to get the large tin bath. She came back almost immediately holding the three boys’ coats. ‘Why is only Pat’s coat wet?’ she shouted at the two older boys, her face dark with anger. They did not answer. ‘Hold out your hands,’ she ordered the eldest boy. ‘And yours,’ she ordered her middle son. ‘As I suspected,’ she glared at the two of them. ‘Spotless’.