Cell Out

By C.J. Cannino

A nine-year-old boy grows up haunted by the roaming hands of a trusted priest. A spoiled housewife turns to a monster home and ghosts in her cell phone when her husband turns to men. How these characters come together in America's money soaked suburbs forms the basis of Cell Out, C.J. Cannino's observant and witty tale of life in the 21st century.

We first meet Peter Golozzi in suburban San Francisco where he serves as an altar boy at the neighborhood Catholic Church. The child's blood runs cold every time he faces his perpetrator, Father Patrick Martin.

Unable to control his rage Peter lashes out as a young adult and becomes a sexually violent predator himself. He is institutionalized for his sexually deviant behavior at a state forensic hospital where he is eventually rehabilitated and released.

The public scrutiny proves too much for the former SVP and he flees to Shady Pines Washington to start over. Peter Golozzi's life takes a turn for the better when he meets Marylynn Diego. Like many upscale suburban housewives, Mrs. Diego appears to have it all; a perfect family, money and beauty. Yet she is tormented by voices she hears in her cell phone and a husband who likes to wear her sexy lingerie.

Critical Acclaim!

"The plot twists in this story make for a very absorbing read."
-Carla Gardini, Creative Executive at Miramax Films.

"Bravo! A compelling combination of comedy and tragedy."
-Dr. Elizabeth Thompson, Authority on Sexually Violent Predators.

"An intriguing, meaningful read for anyone imprisoned by his/her past."
-Olga Cossi, Author, Editor.

Please Visit www.CellOutBook.com

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: May 19, 2005
• ISBN: 9780595781034

Book preview

Contents

Pretty Peter

No Remorse

Unlucky Lisa

The Prize Burrito

Air the Dirty Laundry

The Hearing

Life After ISH

Meet Marylynn

Tofu and Tenderness

Don’t Forget to Floss

Behind the Bedroom Door

Make Way for Maury

It’s All About Forgiveness

Instant Millionaire

Hang Up and Think!

Cruisin

Home Again

Splitsville

Busted!

Peter Meets Father Paul

Chips and Dip

The Apology

Starting Over

Peter, Paul…AndMarry?

About the Author

For Beth

Pretty Peter 

Peter sat on the front steps of his house and watched the fog make its way over the Santa Cruz Mountain range from the coast and into San Francisco. Thick white clouds were creeping over the hills like outstretched hands. It reminded him of Father Patrick’s probing fingers, groping and reaching. Soon the warm sunshine would be lost in the fuzzy dampness that often engulfed the city. He put his head down between his legs to fight the feeling of intense anxiety that washed over him. He didn’t want to feel those awful hands this Sunday; he didn’t want to go to that cold dark place behind the altar.

Peter, c’mon honey it’s time to leave for mass, you’re going to be late, said his mother. She walked out onto the porch and stood over her son. What’s wrong? You look so pale.

I don’t feel good Ma. I think I’m gonna throw up. I can’t go today. Father Patrick will have to do the mass with only one server.

Peter was the only child of Louise and Nick Golozzi. The couple would have liked to have more children, but Louise was never able to carry another child to full term. After two miscarriages she decided she was destined to devote all her love to her only son Peter. The family lived in a bedroom community south of San Francisco. Nick Golozzi was a commercial fisherman and fished the entire coast of California. He preferred the life at sea and would often spend weeks away from his wife and son.

When you’re here, all you do is drink and pass out! You’re useless as a husband and a father! yelled Louise one night when she confronted

Nick. Peter rarely heard his father fight back. He endured his wife’s verbal abuse in silence.

Louise was troubled by her empty marriage and took solace in the Catholic Church. She learned to deal with her absent husband by devoting herself to prayer and activities at Saint Joseph’s parish. In 1969, when Peter turned five, she enrolled him in kindergarten at Saint Joseph’s School and watched him blossom into a good student and healthy young man. When he reached the age of ten, Louise knew something had changed in her son’s personality. She thought it was the absence of his father that caused Peter to misbehave and act belligerently toward her.

The reason Peter misbehaved was not his father, Nick Golozzi. It was Father Patrick, pastor of the church his mother attended. It was she who arranged with Father Patrick for Peter and his friend Vincent to serve as altar boys. As it turned out, the boys served the parish priest not just during mass. They became his play things, his sexual victims trapped in the small room behind the altar.

Peter, now listen carefully, I don’t want you telling anybody about our little secret. This is between Vincent, you, and myself. Do ya understand me, Peter? Father Patrick warned as he breathed sour-smelling wine breath close to Peter’s face while his hand reached deeper into the boy’s pants.

O.K. Father, whatever you want, answered Peter. What else could he say? He squirmed as the middle aged priest continued to fondle him.

All at once, Father Patrick got up with an anxious look on his face and headed for the priest’s changing room. Peter heard him moaning and grunting. As soon as he could get his pants up, he scrambled out of the room behind the altar and ran to where he left his bicycle. He rounded the corner of the church grounds peddling as fast as he could, his face flushed with shame. He was so disgusted by the priest’s bold act of molestation that he wanted to vomit. He was confused and embarrassed.

Peter had only gone a short way when he saw Vincent, his friend and fellow altar boy, walking toward home. Vincent heard him coming and stepped aside to let the bicycle pass him. Instead of going on, Peter stopped. He wanted desperately to talk to Vincent about Father Patrick. He needed to talk to someone and Vince was the only other person who knew about their dirty little secret.

Instead of welcoming the chance to talk, Vincent turned his face away and looked down at the ground. He signaled to Peter that he didn’t want to talk. His eyes were red and swollen. He didn’t try to cover the fact that he had been crying hard. Peter had no choice but to ride on. He was disappointed and hurt, but there was nothing he could do.

The boys had been best friends since they started kindergarten together at St. Joseph’s. They were liked by their teachers and classmates. Their problem was that Father Patrick liked them too. He liked them in a disgusting way. He had welcomed them with open arms and hot hands when Peter’s mother suggested they become altar boys. Every Sunday they had to go to mass and wear the white smocks waiting for them behind the altar. And nearly every Sunday they were forced to follow the priest one at a time to the room behind the altar and let Father Patrick fondle them until he would rush off to do whatever he did to satisfy his sexual appetite.

Before the molestations started, the young Peter Golozzi felt special to be a part of Father Patrick’s inner circle of card-playing friends. The priest had been unusually nice to him in the months previous to being asked to stay after mass. He even invited him to the rectory two or three times and hired him to pull some weeds in the garden, Peter’s first paying job.

Peter, you’re a fine young man. I want you and me to become friends, said Father Patrick as he patted the nine-year-old’s head. Now here, take this and buy yourself something you really want. The priest winked and handed him a $20 bill. Peter was shocked. Twenty dollars was a lot of money to refuse.

I’m not sure I should take that, Father Patrick. My Mom told me it’s an honor for you to ask me here to help you and I shouldn’t take any money.

Well, your mother is always right, don’t you know, Peter boy. But on the other hand, I like you and I want the two of us to be friends. This is a gift from me to you. Let’s just say we’re special friends and you don’t have to tell your mother or father about it, if you don’t want to. You can come back and visit me here another time soon, O.K. son?

Peter remembered the feeling of warmth he felt when the priest smiled down on him, as if he were specially chosen by Father Patrick out of all the other kids at the school. The priest wanted him to be his friend. Peter was sure there were very few people at school who had been allowed inside the rectory.

Father Patrick loved to play cards and often he would host card games for five or six boys on a Friday or Saturday night. The boys enjoyed the get-togethers; Father was their friend and someone they could trust. It was after four or five of those evening card games that the priest began to single out Peter and Vincent to become his closest friends. Peter and Vincent liked to arm wrestle and sometimes Father Patrick would join in on the fun. The arm wrestling led to wrestling on the floor where the winner then had to face off with Father Patrick on the ground and it was there on the carpet of the rectory where the priest first touched Peter on the groin. He remembered liking the feeling and he wanted the priest to continue. It was a sensation he had never felt before and it gave him a warm feeling inside. More and more the game went from arm wrestling to the floor and more often the priest’s touching was part of the game.

Oh you boys are wearing me out, I’m not in shape for all this physical exercise, panted Father Patrick. He reached up into the kitchen cupboard and poured himself a tall beverage from a liquor bottle, taking a long drink. That’s when Peter noticed his personality taking on an aggressive nature that made him a little uncomfortable. Later that night Peter saw Father Patrick touching Vincent in the same way and he noticed Vincent wrinkle up his nose. But the priest let out a loud laugh as he wrangled Vincent into a headlock. It was at that moment Peter realized there may something wrong with the wrestling game, but he trusted the priest and he knew he wouldn’t do anything that would hurt him. He still felt like the most important person at Saint Joseph’s. How could it be that Peter was so lucky to be invited to be the priest’s special friend? He felt so happy he was bursting with joy.

Then all that changed. Father Patrick had done things with Peter’s body that he couldn’t stand to even think about. In the beginning, the touching excited Peter; it was arousing and it was fun doing something secret with the man everyone looked up to. But the fun-loving, card-playing priest who stood on the altar every Sunday was not the same man who made Peter squirm behind the altar, and it bewildered him. Now the excitement turned to confusion, because he wanted the touching to stop and obviously Father Patrick didn’t.

As Peter peddled his bicycle up the hill, his heart beat faster. His fingers dug into the handlebars like the anger and confusion that gripped his whole body. Does being Father Patrick’s friend mean I have to take off my pants? Peter asked himself out loud. Who could answer that question for him? No one but the priest and the answer was obviously yes. Father Patrick had been his knight in shining armor. Now he was just…he couldn’t think of a word bad enough.

His mother greeted him as usual as soon as he got home from church. Hi Peter honey, where were you? Mass ended an hour ago, she said, standing with a hose in her hand watering the neatly tended flower bed in their front yard. Peter wanted desperately to tell his mother about Father Patrick. Instead he just looked at her with a confused expression and stammered, Father asked me to stay for a while after altar service. He wanted to talk to Vince and me.

Louise Golozzi was pleased. Oh well, that’s good. I’m so glad Father Patrick is taking such an interest in you. Come on, let’s go inside and have something to eat. Are you hungry for a little lunch?

Peter’s mother was very proud of her son and wanted to be close to him. He was growing up to be dark and handsome, a decent student, and a devoted altar boy. Luckily he showed few repercussions from his mostly absent father. As they walked into their small kitchen, Peter smelled the hearty aroma of his mother’s Italian cooking and was momentarily distracted from what had just happened at the church.

Louise often made meatballs as a special treat on Sunday. Sometimes they would go to her brother’s house on weekends and eat a large meal early in the evening with a few of the other relatives who lived around the Bay Area. Peter wished they could go somewhere else, anywhere else. He felt uncomfortable sitting alone with his mother. He was itching to blurt out to her, Father Patrick Martin is a freak! He’s a dirty old man! But then he remembered the priest’s words: God will stop loving you Peter, if you breathe a word of this to your parents. Besides, they wouldn’t believe you anyway.

Sensing Peter’s solemn mood his mother apologized to him for his father’s absence. You know Peter, I understand it’s hard for you not having your Dad around the house much, but he’s sort of a loner. It’s not that he doesn’t love you. He just can’t show affection. And he works long hours to make a living. That’s why you should thank the good Lord that somebody like Father Patrick is taking you under his wing.

Before he could stop himself Peter shouted at his mother For God’s sake, Mom! It’s not like you think. He caught himself before he could say more. He couldn’t believe how blind and stupid his poor, sweet mother was. Her mind was in a cocoon and she didn’t want to think otherwise. It had nothing to do with his father; it was all about that disgusting priest she trusted.

His mother gave him a hurt look and filled her mouth with a fork full of meatballs. Peter pushed his plate back and wondered if he would ever enjoy eating again. The smell of the hot food repulsed him. Somehow it reminded him of the priest’s sweaty body and the awful odor that oozed from the small room behind the altar.

The molestations continued Sunday after Sunday. Meanwhile, Father Patrick was invited as the guest speaker in the Wednesday religion class. He lectured the fourth grade students on the Bible, using the book of Joshua as the basis for a sermon dealing with leadership. The priest was a vibrant speaker and had a way of relating a complicated Scripture to the children. As he looked around the room he saw that his classmates were spellbound by the eloquent verses Father Patrick quoted. "I command you be strong and courageous! Do not be afraid or discouraged.

For the Lord your God is with you, wherever you go," he quoted directly from the bible.

Peter could hardly sit still in his seat he was so disgusted. Who did that sour-smelling, huffing, filthy dog think he was, preaching such high-sounding words? Did he think they were a bunch of idiots? Tears welled in Peter’s eyes as he looked down at the floor to hide his feeling of shame and betrayal. In that moment he hated Father Patrick for deceiving the entire fourth grade class and everyone else in the parish. If only he and Vincent had the courage spoken of in that Scripture! If only they weren’t so afraid and mixed up! But the thought of speaking up was too terrifying to consider. He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat and said nothing.

After religion class was over, Peter decided to confront Father Patrick the first chance he had. To his surprise, he found himself in the hallway alone with the priest. He summoned his courage and went right up to the imposing figure dressed all in black who looked larger than life and demanded, How can you say those things when you don’t mean them?

Because, Peter my friend, people need to hear them. It’s the word of the Lord and it’s what I was sent here to preach, Father Patrick replied in a matter-of-fact tone, though his eyes betrayed his inner panic.

Before Peter could say anymore, Mrs. Brownlee, the science teacher, heard what he said and pulled him aside. Peter Golozzi, I think that is a very inappropriate thing for you to say to the leader of our parish. You need to go sit in Principal Herrington’s office and think about being sorry for such disrespectful behavior.

Peter panicked. He meant to confront Father Patrick, not the whole school. He’s not who you think he is, Mrs. Brownlee! he cried as he ran through the hallway. He ran all the way home without stopping. When his mother met him at the door he told her he was sick. He stayed in his room and refused to come out for the next two days. His mother fretted, but he was not about to change his mind. That evening he overheard a telephone conversation between her and Principal Herrington and he decided never to return to that school, no matter what. He would run away if he had to, but he was never going back to that room behind the altar again. He stayed in his room and refused to go to school all week.

Louise Golozzi was seriously concerned about her son. The more she tried to talk to him, the further he withdrew. Three weeks before he and Vincent had been suspended from school for two days for writing obscenities about Father Patrick on the ball wall of the playground. His teacher, Miss Collins, called to say his school work had taken a nosedive and she was constantly having to reprimand him for acting out of order. She requested an immediate parent-teacher conference.

He seems angry and bitter, explained Miss Collins when Mrs. Golozzi met with her in the conference room. It was the second time Peter’s mother had been summoned to the school that month.

Yes, I know how he’s been acting up and I apologize for my son’s behavior, Louise agreed. It’s just so unlike him.

Sometimes when children exhibit a sudden change in behavior like Peter has these last few months, they’re reacting to something going on at home, Miss Collins said kindly. Now I don’t mean to pry, but is everything alright when he’s not at school?

Louise took a deep breath and defended Peter the best she could. You know his father isn’t around much because he works out on the boat a lot. I thought Peter was used to it, since that’s never bothered him before. I really don’t know what it is, I’m sorry I can’t explain his misbehaving like this. He and his friend Vincent are normally such good boys. I just thank the good Lord that Father Patrick is allowing them to continue with their altar service.

She paused and took another deep breath before going on. Did you know that Peter is now refusing to be an altar boy? He said he’d go to church if I insisted, but he won’t do the mass anymore. I don’t want to force him, but I know the Father has had to speak to the boys after mass a couple of times. I thought having one-on-one time with our pastor was good for Peter, but that’s not how he feels. Again, I apologize, Miss Collins, I don’t know what else to say.

Miss Collins felt sorry for the distraught mother and tried to calm her fears. It’s alright. I realize you’re doing the best you can. It’s just that I see a dangerous pattern developing with your son, Mrs. Golozzi. Peter seems to be rejecting authority right now. I’ve caught him scrawling unkind things about Father Patrick on his worksheets. I don’t understand where that’s coming from.

What Miss Collins didn’t tell Peter’s mother was that her son was in serious trouble with school officials. They misread his defiance of authority as a budding conduct disorder or preteen rebellion. It didn’t occur to them that the fault could rest with Father Patrick. In their reverence for the priesthood, they chose to ignore what should have been telltale signs of a larger, more serious problem.

Louise Golozzi was relieved the school year was almost over. She hoped the summer break would give her son a chance to straighten out. If not, Principal Herrington warned her that Peter would be asked not to return to Saint Joseph’s school. And that was exactly what Peter was hoping for. He wanted to get kicked out, so he wouldn’t have to see Father Patrick ever again.

Just the week before, the inappropriate touching after mass behind the altar had escalated into more perverse encounters. Father Patrick began taking the two nine-year-olds back to the rectory immediately after mass. There he would drink half a bottle of scotch and show them his closet filled with the worst kind of pornographic magazines one could buy. Peter wondered where a priest could buy something so dirty. He was disgusted with himself when he remembered that at first he and Vincent liked seeing the vulgar shots of naked men and children the Father was eager to show them. The boys had never seen anything like that before. It was their secret and it was fun, until the fondling started and they made the connection between the vulgar photos and the priest’s lurid actions.

The worst part for Peter was when Father Patrick made them take off all their clothes and pose for his camera. The drunk priest would stumble around his bedroom with a hard-on, taking shots of the boys in compromising positions. One Sunday, Peter refused to be part of the disgusting charade any longer. He started putting his clothes back on and yelling at Father Patrick. I’m tired of this stupid little game, you bastard! You’re drunk. And you stink! Why do you make Vincent and me do this?

The priest’s hair was disheveled and he was sweating and panting like an overweight dog. What do you think, Peter boy? Should I give you and Vincent more money? I’ve been paying you boys every week to be my special friends, he slurred. Maybe that wasn’t enough.

You’re a bastard, Father Patrick! Peter repeated angrily.

Stop it Pete! Stop! pleaded Vincent. Please don’t say things like that! At least he’s not touching us anymore!

Father Patrick stared at Peter, What do you think? Should I find someone nice like your mother, sweet Louise, to play with? Would you like her to take your place? He unzipped his pants as he talked and began stroking his gigantic organ in front of the boys.

There was nothing they could do but stand there naked while Father Patrick huffed and puffed, his eyes rolling back in his head. He let out a belch as semen squirted all over the bedspread. He collapsed in a heap on top of his dirty magazines.

Vincent’s fear turned to panic. Father Patrick! he cried, leaning over the crumpled priest. He called his name again anxiously, Father Patrick! Father Patrick! When there was no response, Vincent turned to Peter. What should we do? Should we try to help him or should we get out of here? I think he stopped breathing!

No, we can’t call anyone. If we do, they’ll know about the secret, it’s his fault anyway. Vince, let’s just get dressed and get out of here! The two boys ran out of the priest’s bedroom and fled the rectory.

I hope God struck him dead, said Vincent.

Me too, agreed Peter. He’s the sinner, not us!

As the boys hurried home Vincent was ready and willing to talk about his feelings for the first time since the fondling started. He went on and on about the evil side of Father Patrick. He cursed the priest and swore he would kill him if he ever tried to molest them again.

At least he didn’t talk about your mom, Peter reminded him. Look what he said about my Mother. She has no idea what a liar he is.

I know, but he was so drunk, he didn’t even know what he was saying half the time.

Are you sticking up for him? Peter demanded.

No, but he has given us a lot of money lately.

So what? I can’t spend it and neither can you. Our mothers would wonder where we got the money to buy anything.

The boys reached the block where they lived so they said goodbye and parted company. Peter watched Vincent walk off and he felt sorry for him. At least I have a Dad, even if he is never home, he told himself. He’s never had a father. Vincent’s father was killed in a head-on car collision when Vince was an infant.

No wonder Father Patrick picked on us. He must have known how much we both missed having a father in our lives.

No Remorse 

Miss Collins’ class at Saint Joseph’s was writing in their journals Monday morning when the intercom chimes sounded throughout the school. It was Principal Herrington with an important announcement. Boys and girls, may I have your attention please. The principal paused for a moment. Maybe some of you have heard by now that Father Patrick is in the hospital today.

Peter and Vincent looked up from their desks and stared at each other wide-eyed. Father suffered a heart attack yesterday, the principal continued. "We thank the Lord that he is expected to recover. He needs our prayers right now,