The Brothers' Lot - Kevin Holohan [76]
Mulvey cautiously passed through the open doorway and looked upward. He saw the spiral stairs and could hear Boland’s labored movement above him. He started cautiously up.
When he came to the ladder he saw the Brother at the top of it keening softly to himself and stroking the big bell as though it had been hurt. Concluding that the ladder could not support both of them, Mulvey prudently waited at the bottom and watched Boland soothe the bell and run his hands over the walls of the bell tower like some shamanic medicine man.
Gradually the Brother’s movements slowed and finally stopped. Exhausted, he crept carefully down the ladder and sat on the bottom rung. He was breathing heavily and sweat was running down his face. When he looked up, he did not seem the least bit surprised to see Father Mulvey standing there.
“Are you all right there, Brother?” asked Mulvey.
Brother Boland nodded.
“Is there something wrong?”
“I don’t know. There is something. Around us. Inside. Something cracking. A sundering. Shards.”
“Is it Venerable Saorseach?”
Brother Boland shook his head, then stopped and peered sadly at Mulvey: “I don’t know. I don’t know.”
“Well, let’s say it is Venerable Saorseach. What do you think he is trying to tell you?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think maybe he thinks the country is on a downward spiral of moral decay and needs to renew its dedication to piety?”
“I don’t know.”
“And Gaelic football?”
“I don’t know.”
“And the Irish language?”
“I don’t know.”
It was only then Boland noticed that Mulvey was writing everything down in his little red notebook.
“I don’t know, I tell you! I don’t know!” he snapped, and abruptly left.
Father Mulvey sat on the ladder and finished his notes. He closed his notebook, wrapped the rubber band around it, and tapped it thoughtfully on his chin. Yes, he should be able to write this up into a convincing draft for Father Sheehan. If he used implied, demonstrated, and intimated, instead of said, he should be fine.
27
Van! Men! In the yard! Again! In the yard! I saw them drive in. The janitor opened the gate for them.” Brother Loughlin looked up from his desk to see Brother Boland hopping up and down with agitation in the doorway. “Contain yourself, Brother Boland. I will deal with this.”
Calmly Loughlin got up from his desk and walked down the corridor past the first year classes and out into the yard.
“There! See?” Boland pointed at the rickety van in the middle of the yard. Brannigan Brothers Roofing Contractors, read the legend on the side of the van. Two men were unloading timber and tools while a third looked on.
“You can’t park there! You have to leave!” barked Brother Loughlin.
Matt, the overseer, looked up and acknowledged Loughlin with a desultory but friendly wave of his hand.
“I said you’ll have to leave. Move that van,” repeated Loughlin as he walked toward the man.
“No bother, Brother. The lads’ll just load up our stuff and we’ll be on or way. Lar, Con, hurry up, we have to load up again.”
“It’s all very well that you’re here at nine in the morning, but you were supposed to be here months ago. The janitor should not have let you in. We’re not allowing any outsiders into the school,” Loughlin continued.
“Game ball. That’s up to you,” said Matt indifferently.
“Your face rings a bell. I can’t place you. Have you done work here before?” asked Loughlin. He eyed Matt carefully.
“The radiators! The radiators! They were here about the radiators! And the clock! I remember now!” rambled Brother Boland.
“Ah, no, that would be the scrap metal division and the electrical division. They’re completely separate from us,” explained Matt.
Brother Loughlin continued to eye him suspiciously. “What’s your name?”
“Matt. Matt Matthews.”
“All done,” announced Lar as he approached. “We’re all set,” concurred Con.
Again Loughlin found himself assailed by a sense of familiarity. He looked from Lar to Con and back again. “Are you sure you haven’t been here before?”
“Maybe in a previous life, Brother, but not as far