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Authors: Lawrence Scott
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in his mind. ‘Mungo was a runaway.’ He turned from stretching up and prepared to place his foot securely on the step to return to the first floor. As he turned, he saw the door off the mezzanine into the library closing. He heard it click shut. It closed softly, clicking in its brass mortise.
In the light which had poured from the partially open door, he noticed the back of Benedict and the door closing behind him. It startled him. It was like an apparition. He immediately thought of a childhood fancy. It was a sudden déjà vu. He thought he had had a vision when he was fourteen. It was Our Lady of Grace, dressed as if she was in the parish church next to his school in the old rusty racatang town of San Andres. She wore her blue veil and a white and gold mantle over her shoulders. Grace, like light, poured from her hands. She appeared to him just as he was waking from sleep and disappeared down the corridor to his mother’s and father’s bedroomin a flight of light. He remembered crying out, ‘Mummy.’ She came and comforted him and together they said the Hail Mary. ‘There, now, dear, Hail Mary, full of grace.’
He had to finish his chores on the first floor and still had to continue up to the second floor. His mind began to play back what he had seen.
It was as if, now, he wasn’t sure what he had seen, so powerfully did the image of the small black boy stay in his mind with the accusations of Redhead, Ramanrine, Mackenzie and Espinet, with the story of Toinette being told to him again. Mungo carried a scar on his neck. He now wondered what it was that had startled him the most: the image of the black boy or the image of Benedict disappearing behind the library door. It seemed as if he remembered that on turning, in that fraction of a second, taking his eyes off the black boy, he saw Benedict standing in the open door of the library staring at him. It was not as Benedict would do normally, smile and say something. He was lost in his staring. Then he turned and closed the library door behind him.
Aelred went over the scene several times. He was convinced that when he first turned around he saw Benedict staring at him, and what he was staring at were his legs, which were exposed because his light denim smock had ridden up his leg, exposing his naked legs in his effort to dust the top of the picture frame. He had been unaware because of his concentration on the face of the black boy in the portrait.
Aelred became agitated. The black boy’s face, Benedict’s disappearance, and then the distinct sense that Benedict had been staring at his naked legs distracted him.
‘Brother Aelred. The bell has gone for the end ofmanual work. You need to get ready for Terce.’ It was Father Justin. He felt that he had been caught doing something wrong.
As he stripped off his denim smock in the washroom he saw de Leger. He was a boy whom he had once caught staring at his legs in the chapel at Mount Saint Maur. When he looked back at him he saw the blue of his eyes, which were like the blue of the veins which ran in his legs, the blue in marble, the blue in the veins of Dom Maurus’s arms, blood like Quink ink. Then the bell for the consecration tinkled. ‘ Hoc est corpus meum .’They all looked up at the host and then bowed their heads. When he screwed up his eyes he kept seeing the boy with the blue eyes who had stared at his naked legs.
Aelred felt worried but excited by the realisation that Benedict had been staring at his naked legs. But he was also a little embarrassed about how he would be next time he spoke to Benedict. Perhaps Benedict would tell him to check that his smock did not ride up when he was working, because it could be a distraction or embarrassment to others. Maybe he would tell him that he should have worn his overalls. Perhaps he was himself embarrassed.
Aelred washed his hands and face in the washroom of the novitiate. He stared at his wet face. He could not get the face of the black boy out
In the light which had poured from the partially open door, he noticed the back of Benedict and the door closing behind him. It startled him. It was like an apparition. He immediately thought of a childhood fancy. It was a sudden déjà vu. He thought he had had a vision when he was fourteen. It was Our Lady of Grace, dressed as if she was in the parish church next to his school in the old rusty racatang town of San Andres. She wore her blue veil and a white and gold mantle over her shoulders. Grace, like light, poured from her hands. She appeared to him just as he was waking from sleep and disappeared down the corridor to his mother’s and father’s bedroomin a flight of light. He remembered crying out, ‘Mummy.’ She came and comforted him and together they said the Hail Mary. ‘There, now, dear, Hail Mary, full of grace.’
He had to finish his chores on the first floor and still had to continue up to the second floor. His mind began to play back what he had seen.
It was as if, now, he wasn’t sure what he had seen, so powerfully did the image of the small black boy stay in his mind with the accusations of Redhead, Ramanrine, Mackenzie and Espinet, with the story of Toinette being told to him again. Mungo carried a scar on his neck. He now wondered what it was that had startled him the most: the image of the black boy or the image of Benedict disappearing behind the library door. It seemed as if he remembered that on turning, in that fraction of a second, taking his eyes off the black boy, he saw Benedict standing in the open door of the library staring at him. It was not as Benedict would do normally, smile and say something. He was lost in his staring. Then he turned and closed the library door behind him.
Aelred went over the scene several times. He was convinced that when he first turned around he saw Benedict staring at him, and what he was staring at were his legs, which were exposed because his light denim smock had ridden up his leg, exposing his naked legs in his effort to dust the top of the picture frame. He had been unaware because of his concentration on the face of the black boy in the portrait.
Aelred became agitated. The black boy’s face, Benedict’s disappearance, and then the distinct sense that Benedict had been staring at his naked legs distracted him.
‘Brother Aelred. The bell has gone for the end ofmanual work. You need to get ready for Terce.’ It was Father Justin. He felt that he had been caught doing something wrong.
As he stripped off his denim smock in the washroom he saw de Leger. He was a boy whom he had once caught staring at his legs in the chapel at Mount Saint Maur. When he looked back at him he saw the blue of his eyes, which were like the blue of the veins which ran in his legs, the blue in marble, the blue in the veins of Dom Maurus’s arms, blood like Quink ink. Then the bell for the consecration tinkled. ‘ Hoc est corpus meum .’They all looked up at the host and then bowed their heads. When he screwed up his eyes he kept seeing the boy with the blue eyes who had stared at his naked legs.
Aelred felt worried but excited by the realisation that Benedict had been staring at his naked legs. But he was also a little embarrassed about how he would be next time he spoke to Benedict. Perhaps Benedict would tell him to check that his smock did not ride up when he was working, because it could be a distraction or embarrassment to others. Maybe he would tell him that he should have worn his overalls. Perhaps he was himself embarrassed.
Aelred washed his hands and face in the washroom of the novitiate. He stared at his wet face. He could not get the face of the black boy out
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