The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [36]
“So? Can you fix it?” asked Brother Loughlin.
“I might if I could get a moment’s peace to have a look at it.”
Brother Loughlin bridled at the workman’s sharp tone but bit his lip. Things had completely gone to the dogs. God be with the days when a tradesman would have been only too happy to come to his school to fix his bell. And would have kept a civil tongue in his head too! He was interrupted by two soft, wheedling voices behind him.
“There ye are now, Brother.”
“Morning, Brother, soft day now, thank God.”
Brother Loughlin turned and found himself being nodded to by Lar and Con. Each carried a small toolbox and tipped his tweed cap respectfully at him.
“You look very familiar. Don’t I know you?” asked Brother Loughlin.
“Don’t think so. You must have us confused with someone else.”
“This clock has had it. It’s all broke, completely banjaxed,” declared Matt, and handed the big clock down to Lar.
“It takes three of you to change a clock?” asked Brother Loughlin archly.
“Oh no, Matt does all that. I’m here in case there’s any socket work. Con here does meters and relays. From each according to his abilities; to each according to his needs,” explained Lar.
“Where’s the fuse box for this?” asked Matt.
“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask Mr. McDermott, the janitor.”
“I’ll find it meself, thanks all the same. I don’t need to have any truck with some jumped-up janitor,” said Matt as climbed down the ladder. He walked off in search of the fuse box leaving Brother Loughlin standing with Con and Lar.
“Is it fixed?” asked Brother Boland, suddenly appearing in the doorway.
“Not yet, Brother. You are still on bell duty until I tell you otherwise.”
Brother Loughlin flinched a little when he saw the look of maniacal glee that momentarily possessed Boland’s face, before it and its bearer disappeared back into the school.
Lar peered inside the discarded clock. “Looks like one of the differentiators fused,” he said sagely.
“I don’t think that model has a differentiator. It’s a Volta 5-20, isn’t it?” ventured Con.
“You know your models all right, but I think you’ll find it has two differentiators.”
“Ah no, the differentiators didn’t come in until the 5-80.”
“You might have a point there. Still, it’s a Volta all right.”
“Ah yeah, the Volta is yer only man for the regularity.”
“You never said a truer word.”
“Still and all, mind you, I always thought the Merrifield was a grand make of clock too.”
“Them’s the ones made in Sheffield, is it?”
“Oh yeah. Sheffield. The Toledo of the North.”
“I never heard that one before.”
“Oh yeah, famous for swords it used to be.”
“Isn’t that a gas thing now all the same?”
“Used to be the capital of Spain at one point.”
“Sheffield? Are ye mad?”
“No, Toledo.”
Brother Loughlin glanced from Lar to Con and back again as this tennis match of nonsequitors started to make the ends of his nerves itch.
“Would you two just shut up!” snarled Matt as he returned. He shook his head despairingly and then fixed his attention on Brother Loughlin: “I’m surprised this place didn’t all go up in flames years ago. The wiring is a caution, so it is. Jerry-built the whole bloody place! Eh, I think you can put the clock down there Larkin. It can’t get any more broken than it already is.”
“Right so.” Lar rested the inert clock against the wall.
Back up the ladder Matt fiddled with the wires. “Would you go in there and screw the fuse back in? It’s just in behind that door.”
For a split second Brother Loughlin was actually on his way to do it. “I beg your pardon?!?”
“All right, I’ll do it meself.”
Matt set down his tools and strolled off into the school again.
Brother Loughlin was furious with this encounter. He took out a cigarette and lit it.
Matt soon returned and thrust a spent and blackened fuse into Con’s hand before climbing back up the ladder. He fiddled some more with the wires and attached a small meter. “Right, we have a current.”
Brother Loughlin cleared his throat impatiently and flicked his ash: “The new clock?”
“All right. All right. It’s coming. Keep yer hair