Chapter 8 8

8 I stood up in a hurry, and my mother was still sitting on the ground.The monk looked down at her.He was at least six-foot-one-two, with a thin face and the expression of a rapt athlete who might have been a strong swimmer or a long-distance runner. "Nile?" he said. Are you all right? "He didn't ask what we were doing, and we sat on the ground in the dark with a spoon, an empty mayonnaise bottle, and a pile of freshly dug dirt beside us. "I'm fine," his mother told him, I just came to see the saint." He smiled at her and pushed the hood back.What a natural, contagious smile that was.I saw his short, neatly trimmed black hair.He glanced at his mother's bandaged hands. "I'm sorry for your injury. We prayed for you at Mass." He turned to me and we looked at each other for a few seconds.In the bright moonlight, I noticed that his eyes were light blue and the skin on his face was very tanned.There was an irresistible childishness about him, but there was something else, something serious, fiery, I felt. "Fr. Thomas," he said, and smiled again, and I felt a strange throbbing in my chest. "I'm Nell's daughter," I replied, Jessie Sullivan. "Afterwards, I went back and forth about that encounter. I told myself that when I met him, all the dark wicks in the cells of my body lit up, noticing his presence—the one you were expecting. , but, I don't know if that's the case, or if I've let myself believe that's the case. I'm sure I've over-imagined our first encounter. But, I did feel a tightness in my chest; I saw him, everything Nothing could be changed. Mother struggled to stand up, he reached out to her and pulled her up, and he didn't let go until she stood still." Who will cook for you now? "She asked him." Friar Timothy. "" Ah, why is it him! ' she exclaimed, 'I think he's a good canteen helper--he does a good job of setting the table and filling the milk jugs--but he can't cook. "Of course he wouldn't," Thomas said, "and that's why the dean picked him."He made a very mysterious casserole today.We all had to pass Lent early. "My mother gave him a joking push with her good hand, and I saw the friars' fondness for her. It surprised me. I thought she was just a pain in the ass." Monastery mascot, but perhaps the monks don't think so." Don't worry," she told him, I'll be back in the kitchen in a few days." "No, you can't," I said too impatiently, "your hands It might take a few weeks to get better." She gave me a hard look.Thomas said, "Weeks! We'll all be starving by then. Fasting will make us holy and pure, but we'll be starving and skinny." "I'll bring Jessie," said my mother, She will cook for me. "

"No, no, you take it easy," he told her, and I was only kidding you. ""We have to go back. "I whispered. I followed them out the wrought-iron garden gate and down the path towards our house, Thomas holding his mother's elbow to guide her. She chatted with him incessantly. I Bottle and spoon in one hand, flashlight in the other. He followed us all the way to "Nair's Gate." Mother stopped at the door. "Give me a blessing. she said. The request seemed to overwhelm him, and I thought to myself, what an insecure monk he is. He raised his right hand, placed it above her head, and, clumsily, drew A sign of the cross. This seemed to satisfy her, and she strode across the back yard toward the house. I watched him from the other side through the gap in the wall. The wall was made of bricks, level with me Waist-high." Thank you for walking back with us, "I said, you don't have to do this." He smiled again, and the lines on both sides of his mouth deepened. "No trouble. I like to do it." "You must be wondering what my mother and I were doing in the garden." I put the bottle and muddy spoon on the wall, and then put down the flashlight to let the beam Facing the distant woods.I don't know why, but suddenly I felt compelled to explain something, probably out of embarrassment. "She didn't just go to visit the Virgin Sinara. I found her kneeling next to the statue, trying to bury her fingers in the ground. She was so determined that I ended up digging for her myself. I don't know Good or bad, don't know if I'm helping her or making things worse." He shook his head slightly. "I'd probably do the same if I found out she was there," he said. As far as I'm concerned, I don't understand anything." He fixed his gaze on me with the same haunting gaze as before. "You know, a lot of us in the Abbey feel like we should see what's going to happen. We're with Nell every day, and nobody thinks she's so..." I thought he was going to say crazy, or Insane. "Desperate," he said. "To say 'despair' is tactful." I said to him. "You're right, I think so. We're both sorry about it anyway." There was a silence as the cold wind blew around us.I turned to look at my mother.Yellow light shone from the windows, drenching the air around the house.She had climbed the back yard steps and entered the kitchen.I realized that I didn't want to go into the house.I looked up at the sky, at the dots of stars in the Milky Way, and for a moment experienced a feeling of floating, as if I was drifting away from the shore of my own life.When I looked down, I saw his thick, sun-tanned hands resting on the ledge, next to mine, and wondered what it would be like to touch them. "Listen, if you need anything, if we can be of any help, just call us," he said. "You're just a wall away," I replied, patting the brick wall with my hand in an attempt to make a little joke and ease my sudden unease.He laughed and pulled the hood over his head.His face disappeared into the dark hood.I picked up the things on the wall stack, turned quickly, walked across the lawn, and left in a hurry.I didn't look back.