ican? Is it bedecked in glitterin’ jewelry you think I am? Smothered in fancy furs? The food churned in my stomach. I gagged. I ran to her backyard and threw it all up. Out she came. Look at what he did. Thrun up his First Communion breakfast. Thrun up the body and blood of Jesus. I have God in me backyard. What am I goin’ to do? I’ll take him to the Jesuits for they know the sins of the Pope himself. She  dragged  me  through  the  streets  of  Limerick.  She  told  the neighbors and passing strangers about God in her backyard. She pushed me into the confession box. In  the  name  of  the  Father,  the  Son,  the  Holy  Ghost.  Bless  me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s a day since my last confession. A day? And what sins have you committed in a day, my child? I overslept. I nearly missed my First Communion. My grandmother said I have standing up, North of Ireland, Presbyterian hair. I threw up my First Communion breakfast. Now Grandma says she has God in her backyard and what should she do. The  priest  is  like  the  First  Confession  priest.  He  has  the  heavy breathing and the choking sounds. Ah . . . ah . . . tell your grandmother to wash God away with a lit- tle water and for your penance say one Hail Mary and one Our Father. Say a prayer for me and God bless you, my child. Grandma  and  Mam  were  waiting  close  to  the  confession  box. Grandma said, Were you telling jokes to that priest in the confession box? If ’tis a thing I ever find out you were telling jokes to Jesuits I’ll tear the bloody kidneys outa you. Now what did he say about God in me backyard? He said wash Him away with a little water, Grandma. Holy water or ordinary water? He didn’t say, Grandma. Well, go back and ask him. But, Grandma . . . She pushed me back into the confessional. Bless me,  Father,  for I have sinned,  it’s a minute since my last confession. A minute! Are you the boy that was just here? I am, Father. 129