The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [101]
“Eyes front!” barked Mr. Pollock suddenly. Finbar snapped his gaze forward. Brother Loughlin and Mr. Pollock were in the third year row in front of him. They had stopped beside a very tall third year. Brother Loughlin moved the boy’s head from side to side and peered at his face.
“Walk up and down for me,” said Loughlin. The boy stepped forward and moved along the space between the rows of boys. Loughlin and Pollock exchanged meaningful glances as the boy’s left foot made a harsh dragging sound on the gravel.
“Lift your feet when you walk, boy!” ordered Pollock.
“I can’t, sir. It’s my leg.”
“Then get over to the other side with you,” barked Loughlin.
They moved on along the row. Soon they would get to Finbar.
“Pssssst!”
Finbar turned to see Smalley Mullen gesticulating wildly. It was clear he wanted to know what was going on.
I don’t know, mouthed Finbar back at him.
Smalley waved him to lean back. He wanted Scully’s opinion, not Finbar’s.
Scully shrugged his shoulders at Smalley. No fucking idea, he mouthed.
Brother Loughlin and Mr. Pollock were now at the beginning of the fifth year row and coming toward them. They stopped in front of Lynch.
“Are those your only shoes?” asked Brother Loughlin.
“Yes, Brother,” mumbled Lynch, looking down at his scuffed and broken shoes to see what the problem might be.
“Other side!”
Lynch slouched across the yard with an air of complete indifference. It was all the same to him; middle of the yard or beside the grotto, none of it mattered a shite. His gait as much as said so.
“And hurry on with you!” Loughlin snarled after him.
Finbar tensed as they moved closer. They stopped at Bradshaw on the other side of Scully. Loughlin motioned Pollock, who reluctantly leaned forward and sniffed at the boy. He recoiled sharply and nodded to Loughlin.
“Other side!”
They slowly passed Finbar and Scully, moved down the row, and stopped at Smalley.
“Stop that shaking, boy!”
Smalley pulled his arms tightly about himself in an attempt to stop shivering.
“What on earth is the matter with you?”
“Cold, Brother,” struggled Smalley between his chattering teeth.
“Cough,” instructed Mr. Pollock. “What, sir?”
“I said cough.”
Puzzled, Smalley let out a small ahem-ahem.
“None of your messing. Cough properly!”
Smalley coughed a little harder and then doubled over in a violent fit of genuine coughing.
“I thought as much. Other side!”
By the time Brother Loughlin and Mr. Pollock finished their inspection, some eighty boys had been sent to the other side of the yard. Brother Cox was concentrating very hard on remembering the instructions Loughlin had given him. He divided the boys into two even groups. With a nod from Loughlin he sent one group back to stand behind all the other boys. Then Loughlin sent half the boys from his side of the yard to stand in front of Cox’s boys. They formed two groups on each side of the yard like some press-ganged guard of honor with the offending handpicked boys at the back of each group.
“Is the Pope coming or what?” asked McDonagh quietly as he stood between Finbar and Scully.
As if in answer to McDonagh’s question, two black cars pulled into the yard between the battalions of boys.
Brother Loughlin and Mr. Pollock stepped forward to meet the occupants of the vehicles when they stepped out.
“Ah, Mr. DePaor, how nice to see you again!” Brother Loughlin greeted. “I believe you already know our vice principal, Mr. Pollock.”
DePaor perfunctorily shook hands with Loughlin and Pollock. “Let me introduce my colleagues.” He gestured to the man and woman who had just emerged from the other car.
“I don’t believe you have met Mr. Nolan from the Department of Schools, Reformatories, and Borstals, and this is Miss Moloney from the Department of Waifs, Strays, and Orphans. They will be joining our inspection.”
Inspection. The word rippled