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In my commercial fishing days I worked for four months on a scallop boat one summer. We were required to have a federal Fish and Game observer on our boat and that is how I met Robert Luna. He was assigned to our boat just as I came aboard as a cook and deck hand. Robert was originally from Mexico, though he had been in the U.S. for many years. He was tiny, almost like a doll. He reminded me of the Aztec dancers who had sometimes come up from Mexico to attend the northern powwows. He told me he did have Aztec blood in his ancestral background. Our days on the scallop boat were long and full of routine. I worked on deck for most of my day, coming in only to fix meals and clean up when the crew had finished eating. Robert took his samples and census of our catch and spent a lot of time in the wheelhouse noting depth and location of the trawls. It became a habit of Robert's to come down to the galley to visit with me when I prepared the noon and evening meals. He would sit and listen to my stories or tell stories of his own. He told me he liked being in the galley when I worked, it reminded him of when he was young. He spent most of his time with his grandmother and mother as a child, and had learned to cook from them. One day Robert told me a story about his days at the Catholic school in the area he had grown up. Robert wanted to ring the bell for the Sunday services as a child. It was the sort of thing that a child might focus on as being a wonderful experience and opportunity. The young Robert was so small for his age and he knew he would have to grow some before the priest would seriously consider his request to ring the bell. So he measured himself each day, waiting for the time when he was as tall as the smallest boy who had been allowed to ring the church bell that called the worshippers to Sunday's service. At last, the day came when he knew he was tall enough, and he approached the father of his church with humble hope. As an adult Robert had a thin face with long, mandarin eyes. But I can see him in my mind with the small round face of a child and huge eyes as he gazed up imploringly at the priest. Surely his heart was in his eyes with all his hopes and ambitions. How could anyone refuse him? At first the priest was doubtful about letting Robert do the honors on the following Sunday, but at last he relented and said yes to Robert's request. And so it was that a little boy spent several days in ecstacy waiting for the moment when his greatest ambition would be fulfilled. Sunday came and a very proud Robert dressed in his best clothes with hair carefully combed arrived early to take his place at the rope. At last the priest gave the signal and Robert was allowed to begin tugging at the rope, making the bell sing out with gentle peals that called the faithful to the house of their father in heaven. With each note Robert was taken higher and higher into the realms of wonder and joy, and then something happened to bring him down hard. How many times had he rung the bell? He had forgot to start counting and now he wasn't sure where he was in the count. The bell must be rung forty times! Robert quickly decided that 27 would be a good place to start counting and he pulled away at the rope, 28 . . .29 . . . Until at last he reached 40. But as he came into the main area of worship and sat down on a bench, the father addressed the congregation with: "Well, now that Robert has at last finished ringing the bell we can begin the service!" Robert knew by the way some of the people chuckled that he had been too long at his duty and comments drifted to his ears about how people had never waited so long for a service to begin. His heart grew heavy as it turned to lead with disappointment in himself and a fear of what the priest would say to him. But with impossible hope still in his heart, valiantly flickering away, he approached the priest after the service and asked, "Did I do well, Father?" The priest seemed to tower over Robert with a face made of stone that had been soaked in vinegar. He gazed down at the small boy with a sour expression that was so daunting it chilled Robert's soul. "Robert," the priest replied with exasperation and condemnation, "you rang the bell too many times!" Robert told me he was never allowed to ring the bell again. His face held a sorrow that had haunted him from that distant day forth and I realized how deeply this story affected him. In telling it over and over he sought absolution from his imagined sin and release from the guilt of his childhood. I laughed. "You know, your story reminds me of that old song, "Alice's Restaurant." Do you remember that song?" I asked him. The sadness fell away from Robert's face as a questioning smile slid onto his face. "I remember that song, why do you mention that?" "Well," I said, "remember the part where the guy is thrown in jail for littering and disturbing the peace? He talks about being surrounded by murders and mass murders and baby rapers, mother rapers, and even father rapers! Then they all close in on him and ask him what he is in for, and when he says, 'littering,' they all shy away from him like he has the plague. Then when he tells them, 'and disturbing the peace,' they all collect around him again, because he must be okay if he was disturbing the peace!" Robert laughed as he began to see where I was going. I continued with, "I can see it now. There you are, standing in line waiting to get into heaven. St. Peter greets the people before you with, 'And what were your sins on earth my child?' When people tell him about dire crimes like murder, rape and torture, he tells them they are forgiven and can enter heaven. But when you get there, he knows who you are and what you did, and right away he tells you, 'Robert, you rang the bell too many times! You are going straight to hell!" Robert began to laugh at my description of events after his death, and as he did so a realization came across his face and I saw a stone drop away from his heart. Robert at last realized that even though he had grown up and become wise in his own way he had remained a child in his thinking about that moment in the past. It really had been funny, and it hadn't been the worst thing anyone could do by a long shot. I finished the process of healing with the statement, "That priest must have been really an anal-retentive sort of person!" "Why do you say that?" Robert asked me. "Because he was only concerned with his loss of dignity, which was only in his own mind. If he had any understanding of children or had a clue as to how they should be dealt with, he would have told you to come and ring the bell the following Sunday and that you should remember to count the next time. If he had even once considered how something so important to a small child could overwhelm their senses, he would have forgiven your mistake and let you ring the bell again. Thus he would have given you a chance to learn from your mistake and I would bet that you would have been the best bell ringer he ever had because your heart was in it with complete devotion." Robert looked at me as though I had said something very remarkable and yet very obvious. "You are right, I would have dedicated myself to doing the best job I could!" "The way I see it," I continued, "the priest was the one who failed. He chose to focus on teaching you guilt and self-loathing when he should have been teaching you to have faith in yourself and God. Not a very good report for someone who passes himself off as a spiritual leader. I would bet he came from a disfunctional family where no one got a second chance and people focused on guilt and failure as a means of control. He passed on the sins of his father and/or mother, instead of trying to learn a better way." We talked for while about family relationships and such things, and then it was time for Robert to go and do a count of our catch. The winches were running, which meant the dredges were coming up. As he left the galley, I called to Robert mischieviously, "Hey Robert!" Robert stopped and turned at the galley door, "Yes?" "So, just how many times DID you ring that bell?" I asked with a grin. Robert just laughed and went to count scallops and fish with a happy heart.
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