The Heretics of St. Possenti

Home > Other > The Heretics of St. Possenti > Page 21
The Heretics of St. Possenti Page 21

by Rolf Nelson


  The boys tried their best to put a brave face on it, but they knew they were in a potentially very bad spot.

  “We could turn you over to the sheriff. Make something official out of it. Would that be to your liking?” asked Luke.

  They both shook their heads vigorously.

  “Or you can say nothing and run for it, so we could follow you home and introduce ourselves to your parents straight from the scene of the crime. Would that be better?”

  Again the two boys shook their heads.

  “Or would you rather leave your optics here for safekeeping, go home quietly and figure out how to tell your parents, go to church for a while without being asked, pray hard, and be given the chance to come back out here with your father, apologize properly, collect the glass, and get a tour in the open?”

  The two boys exchanged a glance. It was a tough offer, but considering the alternatives, all looked pretty bad…

  Jake took the strap off from around his neck and held the binoculars out to Luke. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen again.”

  Luke accepted the proffered glass. “Good to hear, but save it for when your father is present.” He held his hand out to Tony, who clutched the much more valuable, and belonging to someone else, spotting scope. Tony reluctantly handed it over. Luke gave it to Mickey while keeping his eyes sternly on the two boys.

  Mickey gave it a quick onceover. “Nice piece.” It was a compact Leupold 60mm scope on a Manfrotto ball head and Gitzo carbon-fiber tripod. “It would be hard to earn enough to buy a replacement and just say you lost it.” Tony nodded somberly. “We’ll take good care of it until you come back with your father to retrieve it.”

  For the first time, Mickey smiled. Slightly. “What you do now is between you, your parents, and God. Think it through. Do the right thing. And remember: it’s often not the crime that sends people to jail and makes for bad movie plots. It is the cover up.”

  The two boys nodded understanding, not smiling at all. They looked more sick than anything. Luke, closest to them, stood aside and waved down the back side of the ridge. “I assume you know the way out? Good. See you again soon, young men.”

  The brothers watched the two walk slowly away before the boys started trotting and then running all out to escape in case the monks changed their minds.

  Eying their direction, Mickey put a small two-way radio to his lips. “Recon to station three. Two kids, should be harmless. Keep low. Let ’em run. Get license plates or anything else if you can.”

  “Roger,” came the soft voice of Aziz from the handset.

  “Keep your distance. Follow them off the property. Then, return.

  “Wilco.”

  “Out.”

  Once the boys were out of sight and then out of earshot as they pelted down back toward the property line, Luke finally smiled and let out a chuckle. “Going to be a couple of interesting conversations out there somewhere tonight.”

  “Likely so.”

  “What do you think? Good or bad thing to happen?”

  “Good, I think,” said Mickey. “Not exactly the sort of way I planned on meeting local parents, but it’s better than an unexpected shotgun wedding.”

  “That it is.”

  “Could be very good,” chimed in Pete. “They won’t want to tell the tale of getting caught, but they’ll want to tell about how sneaky we are. Or at least how we got behind them. And the theatrics of the fight when we gave the signal that we were in position. No telling if they suspect the snowball fight was planned to keep them distracted, but I’m sure after a few hours stewing in their brains, the story will be pretty awesome.”

  “It might be…. It might indeed.” Mickey smiled. It was turning out to be a remarkable week.

  Inspection

  Thou shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.

  —Exodus 20:16 (9th Commandment)

  It was almost noon when Cade Wilson showed up on Thursday, driving slowly up the barely cleared road to the ranch. He wasn’t alone this time. He parked in the same place as before and got out, reflexively putting the hardhat on his head. From the other side stepped a boy of sixteen, a rather nervous-looking boy whom a couple of the brothers had seen before on the ridge. Tony was Cade’s son, coming to collect the spotting scope.

  Abbot Cranberry and Brothers Mickey, Pete, and Bill were standing on the veranda, having been alerted to the incoming vehicle. When the boy stepped out, Bill and Mickey smiled widely, and the latter leaned over and whispered into Thomas’s ear before they moved down to meet them at the foot of the veranda.

  “Welcome back, Mr. Wilson!” said Cranberry. “It appears that we live in a very small world.” Cade’s expression was one of tight control. He pointed with his chin to indicate that the boy should go forward. He didn’t say anything. Tony took a few steps toward the porch and stopped. The abbot smiled at Cade. “While I’ve not met the young man, his reputation precedes him.” He looked closely at the boy. “I don’t know…. Proper protocols and procedures should be followed. Laws must be obeyed, yes? You did trespass, did you not?”

  The boy swallowed hard and nodded. “And spied on us, which would be either voyeurism or stalking. A serious criminal offense.” Cranberry looked very stern. The boy’s father winced slightly at the words. The priest held out his hand. “I’m Thomas Cranberry, abbot of the Order of St. Possenti. And you are?”

  “Tony. Anthony Wilson, sir.” He shook the proffered hand properly. “I’m sorry I came onto your land and spied on you. I didn’t mean any harm or anything. Didn’t think there was any way we’d be seen. We’ve been out here hunting before and never had anyone sneak up on us. We didn’t mean to bother you.”

  “Then why did you do it?”

  “Well, sir, after my dad came out here, he talked about it at dinner. It sounded weird—a whole bunch of guys in a little house. Never saw a real monk before. So it being mid-winter break and all, I thought I’d check it out. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to invade your privacy, sir. It just…”

  “Sounded like something that a teenaged boy had to do.” He smiled warmly. “I understand. You are not the only one here who was a young man once.” He turned more serious for a moment. “But do not do it again. Is that understood?”

  “Yes, sir!”

  “If you wish to visit, come down the main road. We don’t have regular visitor hours yet, so you should call ahead.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Now then. Brother Finnegan will go get the scope, so we can return that to you safe and sound—now that you have held up your end of the bargain. And then we can have that tour both of you deserve, though for entirely different reasons. Perhaps we will see if there is any wiggle room in legal interpretations.”

  * * *

  The first thing they reviewed was the hastily erected “ten-holer” a hundred yards from the house, each with its own five-gallon bucket with a few inches of bio-blue, toilet paper roll, and some humorously placed reading material. Brother Peter explained:

  “We called around, but all the honey-bucket outfits were rented out. Nothing to be had on short notice. So we just fabbed these up and made arrangements to call when we need to get them pumped out.”

  The inspector almost looked relieved that a serviceable solution had been found for the original reason he’d been called out.

  “We also called the manufacturer of the SS509. They said they be happy to give you the installation and inspection training when they are here. No cost to you at all, of course. Then you’ll be certified by the maker to ensure the systems are properly installed and maintained. You’d be the only one in the county with such a certification. First in the state even.” Cade looked as though he liked the sound of that but wasn’t sure how that would go over with his boss. Thomas didn’t point out that the numerous calls which resulted in the certification idea had been created late the day before and Cade would be the test guinea pig for it. Or that it had cost the order an extra two grand. Or that research into his boss had
shown her to be a social-climbing diploma-hound for whom honors, awards, certifications, and formal recognition meant a lot more than actual accomplishments.

  Cranberry next revealed to Cade the spread of tents and a few RV trailers they’d lined up in the arena or near it and talked about how they could house a number of the men, all of whom were vets and had both experience and the proper equipment for a “field experience.” They didn’t say anything about the number of calls they had to make to find, make, or borrow the equipment, though in the case on one RV trailer they were actually managing to collect a small amount of money for a “covered storage” fee.

  Nothing was said about how many men planned to sleep in the warmth of the house anyway.

  Again, Inspector Wilson allowed as though it appeared to meet both the letter and spirit of the law.

  The electrical service panel they had started to install in the arena was next on the list. It wasn’t hot yet, so it couldn’t really be red-carded, but they wanted to showcase the quality they intended to pursue. Brother Timothy had done some construction and had been apprenticed to an electrician, so he’d spent the last two days making sure that the work they’d done was tight, code correct, and professional looking even though he’d had to pull out some functional-but-ugly work that had already been done so as to give as good an impression as possible. He’d even noted some things that were installed before they’d arrived that were done improperly and how they should have been done (and would be before the wires went hot).

  Cade clearly approved of their honesty and commitment to doing it right.

  The concrete work was displayed the same way, showing an interest in doing it properly, up to code, and safely. They demonstrated how they looked for bad spots, and when the inspector tried his own method in random spots, he didn’t come up with anything they had missed. The framing was barely started and all still very open, so Cade checked to see that studs were on normal centers, sill-plates well-secured, wiring holes small and reasonably placed, and all the other common mistakes amateurs made were not in evidence.

  When they were done with the tour and inspection, the inspector conceded that there was no reason that he could see to take any official action at the moment as everything could be covered, arguably, under the “renovation, repair, remodel” clauses. But they really needed to have permits ahead of time to extend any roof lines, build new buildings, or install the septic.

  “How long does that take?”

  “I don’t know now. Used to be pretty fast. File a form and pay a twenty-dollar registration fee. Mostly asked if you were up to code and if you could insure it, you were good to go because the insurance company would require an inspection. With the new boss, she’s trying to get her fingers into everything. Keeps talking about revenue enhancement. The septic, maybe with a variance as a closely monitored experimental unit, we could do pretty fast. The nonstructural remodel would just need a value adjustment for tax purposes—”

  “But this is a religious nonprofit. It’s tax exempt.”

  “Oh. Right. Don’t deal with those much. That changes a few things… but nothing with structural permitting or fire codes, I don’t think.”

  “We are here to keep people from eternal fire, my son, so we’d not want to violate any fire commandment strictures,” Thomas joked, deadpan.

  It took the others a moment to realize that the normally serious man was making light of a potentially serious and complicating situation, and the laughter it brought was heartfelt and needed.

  “I guess you wouldn’t, at that,” laughed Cade. “I will see what can be done to make things go through with as few bumps as possible.”

  “That would be most greatly appreciated. Truly, it would. Some things will only need to be done eventually, and we can delay bringing in more brothers as room and situation allows, but… we are sadly losing veterans every day to suicide, drugs, and hopelessness. The sooner we can build out, the more lives we can save.”

  A pained expression flashed across Cade’s face, but he said nothing. Tony looked down, trying to appear stoic and failing. Thomas realized instantly that there must be a personal connection there but that now would not be the time to discuss it. Mickey realized it as well and saw a potentially powerful piece of support if properly dealt with. And a potential minefield of formal governmental obstacles if handled badly.

  “But we can delve into the details of the order and its various programs at another time,” the abbot said, moving smoothly past the brief awkwardness. “Those have nothing to do with building codes, permits, and blueprints, which are the issue at hand today. Are there any other pressing official issues that you can see at the moment which might shut us down, Mr. Wilson?”

  Cade shook his head.

  “And is there anything else you’d like to see or know about, young Master Wilson?” Cranberry addressed the latter directly at Tony.

  “Well… yeah. Actually there is.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. I mean, how do you, well, feed everybody?”

  “Excellent question! Practical and down to Earth. You have no idea how good it is to hear such an exercise in common sense and curiosity.” The older Wilson’s appreciation for Thomas’s praise of the young man’s question was apparent in his expression. “That is why getting the kitchen facilities going is such a high priority. It isn’t easy. Four of the brothers are trained food handlers, but given the single range we have now, meals involve a nearly round-the-clock use of large batches of simple foods. Oatmeal by the vat, rising and baking bread every day, simple soups in five-gallon pots, lotsa pasta, beans, and rice. Fresh vegetables require little prep work. It may be the single biggest hurdle we face right now. The additional cooking space in the RV trailers will help, but it’s still a challenge, one the men here are meeting with faith, diligence, and patience.”

  “So if it’s such a problem, why are they here? Why don’t they go someplace better?”

  Such a serious question from such a young man was not expected. The expressions of the monks present turned somber as they awaited Cranberry’s reply. “This is the better place. They have witnessed hardship and desperation before, all around the world. They were seeing hard times themselves. For some it wasn’t the first time. All who are here were in a tough spot. This was the best way out. Not easy or simple. Just the best as they saw it. For some personal definition of ‘best.’ Often, the best way is difficult. But with struggle and sacrifice can come growth and strength. That is why they are here. To rest, grow, learn, and regain strength to keep fighting the good fight in life out there.”

  Tony nodded, accepting the answer even if he didn’t fully understand it.

  His father nodded sagely; he knew all too well about the difficult times and tough decisions that forced him to take the job he was working now.

  Mickey tried to lighten the mood. “But it isn’t all hardship.”

  “Oh, no, not at all!” agreed Pete with a wide grin. “It’s actually quite invigorating to be here.”

  Both Wilsons looked a little dubious.

  “He’s right. Hope is a powerful thing,” agreed Mickey. “Even the little things like Monday and today.”

  “How so?” asked Cade.

  “Six weeks ago I lost my job,” Pete continued. “Rent was hard to scrape together. My wife was threatening to leave–”

  “Monks can have wives?” interjected Cade. “I thought monks were—are—celibate.”

  “While here, yes, certainly,” replied Cranberry. “But this is a new order of monks. The service is for a relatively short time—somewhat like a military enlistment. A couple of years, more or less, for most of them. Then, they return, renewed, back into the world.”

  “Yeah, and that’s the great part, like I was saying. Things were looking pretty bad. Debts piling up. Nowhere to turn. Then, this drops into my life. Breathing room with guys I can relate to. Guys I can learn from and teach. A place where I can do something for a while, knowing Beth will be okay for a sp
ace while I’m away. She moved back in with her parents while I’m here. I’m training guys and learning a lot while we build this place out. I can see where I’ll be learning a lot more.

  “But the best part is seeing a young man like you.” Pete looked right at Tony, who looked back, startled. “Yeah, you. You were out looking for adventure. A little harmless fun. You were out in the world, checking something out for real with a real friend, not just hiding at home, online and ‘safe’ with some ‘Internet friend.’” The sneer quotes were obvious; his disdain real. “You were out learning about action and consequences the old-fashioned way: by taking action and dealing with the consequences face to face. You got caught, sure. But you manned up, told your dad, and took the consequences of your screw-up square on. I don’t see a lot of that in the city. It’s a little thing, but it gives me hope for the next generation.”

  The Wilsons both stood a little a little straighter. It wasn’t often that they heard such words, much less spoken by strangers who sounded like they really believed them. On the other hand, the brothers had not been able to say them until now.

  The monastery had won it first local allies, however insignificant they may have appeared to be at the moment.

  Prior Arrival

  But let the Prior reverently do what his Abbot hath enjoined on him, doing nothing against the will or the direction of the Abbot; for the higher he is placed above others, the more careful should he be to obey the precepts of the Rule.

  The Holy Rule of Saint Benedict, Ch. LXV (Of the Prior of the Monastery)

  Father McKale Mathews didn’t usually ride the bus. Certainly not far out into out-of-the-way places like this. And getting dropped off with nothing but a single suitcase in a strange town at a storefront on a deserted-looking street that had no “Bus Station” sign wasn’t what he was expecting. Oh, there was one—small, old, faded, and partially hidden. But before he could go inside to get out of the snow and icy wind, he saw a pickup truck barreling down the road faster than may be prudent, power-sliding to a stop perfectly in front of the store.

 

‹ Prev