The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [107]
“Very good. Thank you, Brother Walsh,” smiled Mr. Pollock.
“Perhaps we could move on to the attic and the oratory,” suggested Miss Moloney.
Mr. DePaor and Mr. Nolan nodded in agreement.
“Ah yes, right, the attic. Right so,” answered Brother Loughlin hesitantly.
“That is, after all, our main reason for being here,” said Mr. Nolan with an unmistakable impatience creeping into his voice.
“Right then. Thank you, Brother Walsh. You may proceed with your lesson,” said Loughlin curtly, and opened the classroom door.
“Brother! Brother! Brother! Brother!” shrieked Lynch and Egan as they burst in.
“What on earth is this carry-on?”
“A message, Brother.”
“From Mrs. Broderick, Brother.”
“It’s urgent, Brother.”
“Yes, yes! What is it then?” snapped Loughlin.
“She says you have to come quick.”
“She can’t wait.”
“It’s an emergency.”
“Out with it!” snarled the Brother.
“She needs …”
“A long …”
“Hard …”
“Deep …”
“Shag …”
“On your desk …”
“From behind …”
“Now!”
For a moment Brother Loughlin was completely stunned. It was only when he heard the giggles from the boys of 3-B did he really believe his ears. He drew his leather and grabbed Egan who was nearest.
“How dare you? You filthy-mouthed little cur!” The whole class fell silent. Still, the reality of the moment persisted, percolating from disbelief into something akin to hysteria. One of the boys at the back could stifle his laughter no longer and burst into uncontrollable giggles.
“Come up here, you boy!” called Mr. Pollock, pushing his way past Mr. Nolan to get to work quicker.
“Hurry up with that polishing,” barked Brother Cox, and glanced at his watch. He should have got more than three classes of boys to polish the school hall. A temporary lunch table had been set up for the inspectors and now it was nearly lunchtime. He jumped as the doors flew open but was relieved to see that it was only a boy.
“Mr. Pollock wants to see Tony Begley, Brother,” said McDonagh respectfully.
“Hah! Begley, in trouble again?” Cox administered two perfunctory belts of the leather before waving Begley out the door with McDonagh.
Outside in the hall McDonagh turned to Begley: “Wait here a couple of minutes and then go back in. We’re going for the big blackout. Biggest ever. The whole school. Pass it on.” McDonagh then darted back across the yard toward the school.
It took ten minutes of phony messages like McDonagh’s, chance meetings in corridors, and furtive signals while passing classroom doors for all the boys to be aware of the big blackout. Simultaneously across the school stammers were developed in midsentence, Geometry sets galore crashed to the floor, repetitive stupid questions were asked, tremendous feats of farting and belching were accomplished, idiotic answers to the simplest of questions were ventured. Every imaginable annoyance was brought to bear in one united front of provocation. Fearful of being surprised by the inspectors in the middle of a beating, the teachers and Brothers reacted swiftly and furiously, doling out quick, vicious leatherings in an attempt to restore order as soon as possible.
Brother Boland burst into his cell. There, too, the radiator was hissing and shaking like a thing possessed. He grabbed his rosary beads from the washstand where they hung and fled the room. He ran down the main stairs and then up the back stairs to the bell tower, feverishly fingering his beads.
“As you can see, the damage is quite extensive.” Brother Loughlin motioned to the wreckage around him. He stood on what had been the attic but now amounted to little more than a flat roof of rubble atop the monastery.
“Were the victims’ remains recovered?” asked Mr. DePaor.
“Yes. The fire brigade brought them to the city morgue. They will be returned to us for burial when they have finished with them.”
“Are you sure this is safe now?” asked Mr. Nolan.
“It is safe but we need to do a lot of work to clear it, and it is slow work.”
“Slow? Why?”
“Well, since the, uhm, miracle we haven’t been