The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [104]
From where he was polishing Finbar looked up to see what was going to happen next in this grotesque dance of power and punishment.
“What are ye looking at? Get back to yer polishing!” snapped Moody.
Smalley’s lower lip was cut and trembling, and his eyes welled with tears that he struggled to fight back. He took one deep breath and his eyes seemed to glaze over. He hopped awkwardly onto his left foot and with surprising agility managed to pivot himself in midair to put all the weight of his body and anger behind his right foot as he swung it hard into Brother Moody’s crotch. “Fucking bollix!” he shouted as his foot made contact.
Moody took a second to comprehend what had just happened before he buckled in pain and clasped one hand to his testicles and one to his knee to keep himself upright. Smalley stared around him at the strange new world he had just created for himself. The Brother groaned and then vomited noisily on his boots.
“Go!” Scully hissed to Smalley.
Smalley stood for a moment as if trying to grasp what he had just done. He peered down at Moody and drew his foot back once more and swung it again at the man’s hands covering his crotch. Moody buckled and groaned again and Smalley turned and ran, first hesitantly, then with more decision.
Sensing that Brother Moody’s vomiting was over, the boys backed out of striking distance and waited. This was a strange and wonderful moment, the like of which they had never in their wildest dreams thought they would see, but they knew one thing: someone was going to pay for it.
“And this is our Biology laboratory. The Chemistry laboratory is above us on the second floor and Physics on the third.”
“Indeed. You seem to be very low on equipment despite spending,” Mr. Nolan consulted his file, “three hundred pounds on laboratory supplies last summer. Of course, considering the number of boys you have sent off to industrial schools over the last couple of years, you probably don’t need so much equipment,” observed Mr. Nolan acidly.
“Uhm, there was a slight accident.”
“Was there now?” Mr. Nolan made a quick note in his file.
Brother Loughlin did his best to ignore the man’s hostile tone and directed himself as much as possible to Mr. DePaor and Miss Moloney. “Shall we move on and begin our tour of the classrooms? We have three-quarters of an hour before lunchtime.”
Without waiting for an answer he walked out of the lab, leaving Pollock to take up the rear and usher the inspectors along.
Brother Moody retched and spat into the puddle of vomit at his feet. He stood up carefully and looked round him, searching for Smalley Mullen’s face.
“Cowardly little bastard,” he snarled. “You! You there! Go get a mop and a bucket and clean up this corridor.”
“Me, Brother?” asked Scully. “Yes, you.”
Scully’s mind raced. “But Brother, I don’t know where they do be keeping the mops,” he answered, while he gently nudged Finbar.
Before Finbar knew what he was saying, he blurted: “I’ll help him, Brother. I know where they are.”
Too pained to perceive or speculate about any ulterior motives Finbar might have, Moody nodded his permission and waved the two boys down the stairs. Then he returned his attention to the two most pressing matters at hand: “The rest of you, back to polishing that floor! Which way did that little bastard Mullen go?”
The boys leapt back to their polishing, all jostling for a spot as far away from Moody and his puddle of vomit as possible. Just as the Brother was about to pick one of them for interrogation about Smalley’s escape, there was a rumble from the bathroom at the end of the corridor followed by a loud screeching of metal.
“The stupid little bastard. He’s cornered himself,” laughed Moody, and strode down the corridor to the toilets leaving a trail of little vomit footprints on the newly polished