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By Root 793 0

with great dynamism. In his cassock and white gloves, which he never took off, he had a certain hypnotic effect on his pupils, especially the first few days. His was a spectacular, telegenic style, which contrasted with the severe and often bitter or intimidatory seriousness of most teachers. In fact, he was the only one who talked about television in class without treating it like a diabolical or despicable appliance. He created a bond with pupils whenever he referred to programmes or characters that were gaining notoriety, such as the family of ranchers in Bonanza with their model father, or the most popular advertisements. His comparisons not only were celebrated by those who had televisions, but immediately won over the others. His televisual colloquialism placed Father Munio firmly on the side of screen-lovers, which meant everybody, but especially those who were subject to a regime of rationing, verging on prohibition, as was the case with the boarders. The latter, on the odd Saturday evening, had even been forced to occupy the lounge in front of a disconnected television. One of Father Pedrosa’s disciplinary ideas. They’d used their afternoon break to go and play at bullfighting with the waves in Orzán and, when they came back, there was Father Pedrosa waiting for them with the dramatic special effects of his wreaths of breath as he strode across the darkening quad. The television, not switched on, was a petrified piece of grey, wintry sky that Saturday evening. And there was a correlation between the overcast sky, the tutor’s warm vapour and the imageless screen. From where they were, they could hear the hoarse sound of the waves, they were, so to speak, inside the submarine, but deprived of the journey to the ocean bed being undertaken around that time by all whose television was working. The boarders sat there in silence, condemned not to see.

Which is why, to begin with, they liked this Father Munio who was on their side, that of the illuminated screen. This priest who wrote the order of the day on the blackboard: ‘I want you to be happy on earth’ (The Way, 217). Or: ‘There you have light, to help you discover the reasons for your gloominess’ (The Way, 666). And then the daily exercise, the spiritual gymnastics of his so-called Heroic Minute. ‘Attention. It’s time now to stand up. No hesitation. A supernatural thought and . . . up you get!’ The whole class on its feet, with raised arms like wings, copying him as he flapped his white gloves. Yes, this priest who was such fun he gave himself a round of applause.

‘Allez-hop! Now don’t you feel better?

‘Books, men who accumulate knowledge, are OK, but what we need are publicists for God. Just as merchandise is put on offer, material goods from detergents to fridges, and the person responsible is not afraid to show his face, to repeat the jingle, how much more then should we be engaged in publicity for God? No, we should have no scruples about turning into Walking Advertisements.’ And he’d make them laugh by referring to ‘the spark of life’, Coca-Cola’s slogan. Then he’d hush the amused murmurs with the studied, winged gesture of his gloves and the voice of a liturgical illusionist. ‘If this is how we talk about a beverage that mysteriously contains sugar and caffeine, what invincible force can we extract from our faith?’ He then pointed to the order of the day on the blackboard, a phrase he wrote in large letters as soon as he arrived, which was meant for them to think about and which today sounded like a contradictory, unsettling proclamation: ‘Holy Shamelessness’. Now did they understand?

‘Another go at Heroic Minute. Attention. It’s time now to stand up. No hesitation. A supernatural thought and . . . up you get!’

He sneered at the class. ‘What faces! I don’t see a supernatural thought anywhere.’

Zonzo was always at the back, in the shelter of the wall. He was a bad student with bad marks, but everyone knew he wasn’t sluggish. Nor was he unruly. Almost always mute, even though they threatened to fail him for ever, he made it clear what his attitude was. He