“No, no,” I protested. “You’ve
broken the rules. That’s
confidential information. The priest
isn’t supposed to repeat what you
say in confession.”
They didn’t care. The school
could break whatever rules it
wanted. The principal laid into me.
“What kind of a sick person
would eat all of Jesus’s body and
drink all of Jesus’s blood?”
“A hungry person.”
I got another hiding and a
second trip to the psychologist for
that one. The third visit to the
shrink, and the last straw, came in
grade six. A kid was bullying me. He