The Colors of Alemeth - Vol. 1

by V. Cobe

CHAPTER 12

  Zilá

  Bishop Zalmon Costa is awaiting me at the monastery gates. There are no classes since it’s the week of the Gospels, and the monastery is in retreat; however, he will receive me, not as a client but as the mother of his godson.

  I greet him, kissing his hand, and we walk through the gardens arm in arm toward the big building. I feel like plucking his arm out.

  “I can’t imagine what you must be going through right now.” He sighs. “I want to help you in any way you might need. I myself am in a horrible state. I don’t know how this could’ve happened right under my nose.”

  “There should’ve been more security, clearly. When did you notice he was gone?”

  “It was human error, Bethel. Alemeth was watching television that night, in the common room, and then withdrew. The nun who was in charge of checking the rooms at bedtime, Sister Sara, didn’t check his room, so we don’t know whether he was there at that time or not.”

  He lowers his eyes, but I’m not sorry for his bad conscience.

  “I thought it was a standard procedure to check whether the children are in their rooms at bedtime.”

  “Of course it is… but they’re children, it’s impossible to control where they are at all times.”

  “But it’s a regulation of the monastery, right?”

  “There’s a nun responsible for ‘laying down’ the children. But there are about one hundred rooms…. It’s easy to neglect the obedient ones. The inspection of the rooms exist more so that they don’t go around at night causing trouble than to protect them from abductions, you must understand that that’s provided by the other security from the Brigades within the monastery limits.”

  “Regarding that, what went wrong?”

  “Apparently nothing. It’s slowing down investigations…. The monastery is completely protected, and there was no breach of security that night.”

  “Sister Sara made the final rounds, didn’t she? I’d like to talk with her if that’s possible.”

  “I’m afraid this isn’t a good time. You’re still upset, and the Brigade is still investigating. Your head is hot; I fear that you may be too harsh with her.”

  “Oh, don’t worry, bishop, I just want to talk. I won’t be harsh at all.”

  He hesitates and looks at the sky, as if seeking some lost and extremely interesting bird that he had heard chirping, but I know he’s just trying to buy time.

  “Okay, Bethel, but promise me you’ll not lose your head. She’s not responsible for Alemeth’s disappearance, she was just negligent. It wasn’t intentional, and she’s only partly to blame. We don’t know whether it would’ve happened even if she had found him in bed.”

  “I know that, I just need to hear from her. The Brigade might have missed something.”

  “I’ll take you there,” he says finally.

  We skirt the monastery building to the back and enter through a wooden door.

  The interior is made of gray stone, cool and dimly lit, even though it’s noon and the sun shines openly out there. We climb narrow spiral staircases and reach another wooden door that the bishop opens with a key from the bunch he took from his red cassock’s pocket.

  We enter an infinitely long corridor full of windows all along the left wall, with a wooden floor covered with red and gold carpets. The stone walls are decorated with strips of cloth of the same colors, statues of saints and old pictures of former leaders of Heart of Carmel.

  We walk several meters in silence, leaving a large portion of the corridor behind. Through the windows, I glimpse the extensive, green fields and a bright lake in the background, probably Gloque.

  I hear the sound of female laughter. When I look back, I glimpse in the distance at the beginning of the corridor what seemed to be a naked man entering a room.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Oh, it must be the gardener. In the summer he has this nasty habit of walking around half naked while tending to the garden.”

  He wasn’t half naked, I’m almost sure of it.

  We stop in front of a door on which a sign reads: ‘Mother Superior Zilá’.

  The bishop knocks three times. We enter, and I find myself in a modest office, for the Institution’s standards. Two bookshelves occupy the left and right walls, and there’s a tapestry with the image of Our Lady of Naze on the wall opposite us. On the roof, a large skylight, as is common in Institution buildings, lets in sufficient light to illuminate the room as if we were outside.

  Mother Zilá is sitting on a wooden highback chair and widens her eyes when she sees me. She gets up immediately. She joins her hands over her belly, looks down and says, “Ms. Sá.”

  She looks like the Virgin Mary.

  “Bethel would like to talk to Sister Sara about the night before last, just to be more relaxed in case the Brigade missed something.”

  “Unfortunately, Sister Sara is in a spiritual retreat since this morning and desires to remain so until she feels better. We’ll have to respect her wishes. She was very upset by all this. I’m sorry, Ms. Sá.”

  How convenient.

  “However, I myself have heard everything she knows about this tragedy and would be happy to clarify any questions you might have.”

  I look to the bishop and try to draft a grateful smile, as if to tell him that all is well.

  “I’ll leave you two alone. If you need anything, call. I’ll be outside.” He leaves, closing the door behind him.

  “Sit,” insists Mother Zilá, motioning with her hand for me to sit in a chair in front of the desk, while she herself takes a seat again.

  “Don’t be afraid of our conversation. I’m not here to point a finger at anyone, I just want to try to find more clues about what happened.”

  “Regarding that, I’m afraid Sister Sara has already disclosed all she knows.”

  “But let’s review it once again, shall we? I can’t understand why she didn’t check whether Alem was in his room at bedtime.”

  She stirs in her chair.

  “The only purpose of those rounds is to control misbehaving children; it’s not seen as a security measure. There are about one hundred children, Ms. Sá, it’s not possible to know their whereabouts or what they are doing at all times, I’m sure the bishop already explained that. Security is achieved through other means… the cameras at the entrances, the guards themselves….”

  “The bishop has explained everything, yes. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

  “The rounds exist to control unruly kids, as I mentioned. And Alemeth is an exemplary child and very mature in some things for his age. He’s a very independent boy and respects everyone and everything around him. We give him more freedom, perhaps, and even more knowing he had some difficult years before coming here.”

  “And the next morning?”

  “The next morning, Alemeth wasn’t at roll call.”

  She has her arms on the table and touches her hands together. She looks at them while talking.

  “As soon as we realized he wasn’t there, Sister Sara and Sister Ada went to his room to see what was the matter. Meanwhile, we asked the children if they’d seen him, and that was when Jaala mentioned he didn’t see Alem in his room the night before, when he went to bed.”

  “Have you told this to the Brigade?”

  “I have. I thought you knew.”

  “I didn’t. That means Alem wasn’t in his room the night before last.”

  “Well, he may have simply gone to the bathroom…. We don’t know these things. No other child knew where he was, but several said he’d gone to bed early. The other nuns came back and confirmed that he wasn’t in his room or that area’s bathroom and that his bed was made and his room averagely tidy, as always.”

  “And does anyone know why he went to bed early? Did anyone try to find out?”

  The nun keeps her gaze in her hands and shakes her head.

  I have a feeling she’s hiding something.

  “Even his friends don’t
seem to know exactly why he went to bed early. Some say he was strange. We didn’t badger them. We didn’t want to alarm anyone, neither the kids nor their parents. The children noticed that he had missed roll call, but nobody knows why.”

  My poor son. What was going on with him that led others to say he was strange?

  “During breakfast, the staff made several rounds through the monastery looking for him but no one found any sign. All corners were searched. When we gathered again, breakfast was over, so we sent the children home, as usual. And you already know what happened.”

  “Yes, I know nobody told me what was going on.”

  “After the children left, final rounds were made. We had to be sure before doing anything. The nun who informed your friend, Rhode, that no child had stayed in the monastery didn’t want to give her the bad news until we were absolutely sure he was gone.”

  She stands up, turns to me and places her hand on my shoulder.

  “I am very sorry that this happened. My prayers are with your child, and God will certainly help find him, don’t worry.”

  I’d tell you a lot about your god, I would. But not today.

  “Who knows, maybe he shows up later at home. After all, we don’t know whether he ran away from here on his own two feet.”

  “On his own feet? Run away one day before going home?”

  I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I stand and give her a short bow.

  “Thank you for your time, Mother. I appreciate you praying for Alem. Have a good day.”

  And I leave. Well, at least I know something I didn’t yesterday: Jaala went to Alem’s room and didn’t find him there.

  The bishop is waiting for me in the hallway, looking through the arch windows along the wall.

  He grabs me by my arm when he sees me and takes me with fatherly affection through the corridor, while Mother Zilá watches us at the doorway of her office.