[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

unwind there for the afternoon.
 Proper thing.
We got the taxi driver to stop at a grocery store and wait while I
did some hurried shopping. It was chilly with the smell of snow in the
air when we got to my place, so I lit a fire. I broiled a couple of steaks,
baked some potatoes, and we had a mid-afternoon meal, which felt
like a middle-of-the-night meal to us. Burke called Monsignor
O Flaherty to tell him we were back, poured himself a glass of Irish,
drained it, then passed out in my armchair with the empty glass still
in his hand. I called the kids and told them I d see them tomorrow; I
had a couple of things for them, and another item would be arriving
later. I scribbled a note to myself about getting the Angelicum photo
developed and transferred to a T-shirt for Normie.
I was just drifting off in my bed when the phone rang. It was
Father Sferrazza-Melchiorre, telling me he had a couple of friends vis-
iting from out of town. They were looking for something to do, and
he knew Brennan was with me. Sure, bring them over. I gave him
directions, then hauled myself out of bed and got ready for just what
I didn t need: company.
A few minutes later I answered the doorbell and found Enrico
standing on the step, fully caped, with two men who would be recog-
nized even in a satellite reconnaissance photo as Americans. They each
beamed a set of blindingly white teeth at me, and held out their hands
for a shake. One had blow-dried blond hair and looked like the proto-
typical television preacher. The other was tanned and craggy and
could have found steady work as an actor playing a cowboy or a farm-
hand. They were dressed in Sunday-go-to-meetin suits. The cowboy
introduced himself as Earl Slocum and the preacher as Eldon Pye.
 Brother Eldon and I are just in from Lutes Mountain, Slocum
told me.  Up across the state line. State laan.
They had crossed quite a few state lines, in my estimation, if they
204
were this far north; Slocum s drawl placed him in the deep south of
the U.S.A. But he explained that Lutes Mountain was just outside
Moncton, New Brunswick, and then I was able to place it, up across
the provincial line.
 Big revival meetin up there, put on by the Atlantic Baptist
College, and they invited Brother Eldon to do some preachin and
some healin . We re flyin out tomorra mornin , and we wanted to
make time to see Father Hank on our way through.
Father Hank  Don Enrico Sferrazza-Melchiorre  spoke up.
 Mr. Slocum and Mr. Pye are from Mississippi, Montague. Their
church is close to mine. Close geographically. They knew I was
coming to Canada, and I gave them my address. Their flight to the
U.S. leaves from Halifax, so they are my guests today.
 Come in, come in. Are you ready to go back to school tomorrow,
Enrico?
 Yes. In fact, I returned just after New Year s. I spent Christmas
with my parishioners in Mule Run, but I wanted to come back to
Halifax. I like the snow.
 You re lucky this year. We don t always have snow for the holidays.
 Yes, it is beautiful. I hope to ski.
 Right. We have Martock and Wentworth. It s not the Italian Alps
though, Enrico.
 It is not Mule Run, Mississippi.
 I hear you. Make yourselves comfortable, gentlemen.
 I see my friend Brennan is here. Allow me to introduce . . .
Enrico began, then faltered when he saw his friend passed out in the
living room, with a whiskey glass ready to fall from his hand.
 Brennan is obviously exhausted. We shall wait for him to join us.
The two Americans stared at the tousled, unshaven man in the
chair, looked at their watches, and exchanged glances with one another.
 Find a seat there, gentlemen. Can I get you anything? A beer?
Guinness? Whiskey? Wine? Shine?
Glances again.  Uh, no, Montague, thank you very much.
 Milk? Mountain Dew?
 Mountain Dew would be real nice, thank you.
I got them ginger ale, and settled them in the living room. We all
pretended there was nobody else in the room. Or that s what I
205
thought we were doing.  This man, Slocum began, cocking a finger
at Pye,  this man saved my life. I said to you he was up there in New
Brunswick preachin and healin , and that s exactly what I meant. He
healed me, he can heal you, and   Slocum looked with pity at
Brennan and broke into song    Amazing grace, how sweet the
sound that saved a wretch like me. He can heal that poor wretched
man settin in that chair.
 Think so? I asked.
 I was lost, Montague. And Brother Eldon found me and brought
me to the Lord. I have not touched a drop of liquor since I accepted
Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour. Brother Eldon?
 Thank you for that kind testimony, Earl. Pye s accent was not as
down-home as Slocum s, but it was from the same latitude.  Let me
ask you something if I may, Montague.
 Sure.
 Has this man been bedevilled by alcohol for a long time?
 He is not drunk, but sleepeth, I replied.
 You re a loyal friend, and Jesus admires that. And I m sure you are
a great comfort to your friend in his darkness. Feed the hungry, clothe
the naked, visit the sick. Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.
The least of Jesus s brethren took that moment to moan in his sleep
and mutter something in a language I did not understand; his glass fell
from his hand, rolled across the rug, and stopped at the feet of Eldon
Pye, who picked up the theme again.  I won t ask you, Montague,
whether this man has been saved. He may have been baptized in the
Lord as a child, I have no way of knowing. But to be born again  
 Oh, you misunderstand, Eldon. Brennan is in fact a   Enrico
began, but I gave him a wink, and he fell silent.
 So what did you preach about up in New Brunswick, Eldon? I
asked.  Booze?
 Many of those who came to me for healing came for that reason,
Montague. Liquor flows freely in our society  
 Hasn t it always? [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]