The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [58]
“Okay, let’s take a look at these guys then,” continued Father Mulvey, and bent down to inspect the shards of terracotta statuettes. Did any of these little guys make it?”
“Well, all the ones in the nooks at the far end seem to be undamaged.”
That was not so good, thought Mulvey, but he could probably work with it. He continued to peer at all the shards on the floor while Brother Loughlin looked on in ex-asperated impatience.
“Any other witnesses?” asked Father Mulvey without looking up.
“I’m afraid not,” said Brother Loughlin sadly.
“Okay, let’s go see what Brother Boland has to say for himself,” said Mulvey, and abruptly slipped out of the oratory past Loughlin.
* * *
Brother Boland’s cell was dark except for the tired moon-light that came through the small window.
Father Mulvey turned to Brother Loughlin and brusquely motioned him to stay quiet.
As their eyes became accustomed to the dim light they saw Boland sitting on the edge of his cot. He was rocking to and fro and crooning to the small figure he held in his hands.
“Brother Boland, there’s a man from the Bishop here to see you,” announced Brother Loughlin.
Boland’s crooning took on a more urgent tone and his rocking grew faster.
Father Mulvey turned on Brother Loughlin. “Let me do the talking here, Brother,” he hissed, then waited for the sound Boland was making to return to a less urgent pitch. He felt an excitement grow inside him. This looked good. This looked very promising. This could really be it. This could be the one that would put him on the miracle map. Then there’d be no stopping him: seminars, lecture tours, maybe even a post in the Curia. Yep, this could be Martin Mulvey’s Momentous Miraculous Mother Lode. He took a deep breath to calm himself.
“Brother Boland? It’s okay,” he began softly. “You don’t have to talk right now. I’m Father Mulvey. My friends call me Martin. I’d like you to call me Martin. I’m here to be your friend. I’m here to help you. What do you think of that, Brother Boland?”
Boland made no reply though his crooning did stop for a moment to indicate he had at least heard what had been said to him.
“Good, Brother Boland. That’s very good,” purred Father Mulvey soothingly.
“Ah, for God Sake! Enough of this fecking around! Let the dog see the rabbit and get on with it!” cried Brother Loughlin, and turned on the light.
The crooning turned into a high-pitched shrieking and Boland curled himself up into a ball on the bed. Father Mulvey spun round and with one continuous motion turned off the light, opened the door, and pushed Brother Loughlin out into the corridor.
“Brother, I asked you not to interfere. Now I’m telling you! Don’t interfere with the vidente miraculus. I think you should just wait out here until I need you. Agreed?”
Brother Loughlin found himself in the corridor with the door closed in his face, surrounded by the Brothers.
“I thought I told you all to stay downstairs!” he barked at them, suddenly very conscious that he did not want Father Mulvey to come out and tell him to be quiet. “It’s got more official now. Father Mulvey needs me to wait here outside while he interviews the vidente miraculus.”
The Brothers murmured among themselves at this; slowly there emerged more concrete phrases.
“More official, is it?”
“Vidente miraculus, did you hear that?”
“That means it is a miracle.”
“Let them try to build a warehouse here now and the Pope himself will be down on the lot of them like a ton of bricks.”
“Holy ground.”
“Very important site.”
“Could be pilgrimages.”
“Tour buses even.”
Slowly the knot of Brothers was winding and tightening itself like some dynamic force. It was only a matter of time before this energy had to be released, and it would only take the tiniest spark, if it was the right one. Brother Loughlin watched in amazement as this group-hysteria event unfolded in front of him.
“Pope