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(c) Copyright Mary F Carruthers 2018

"Chapter Twenty

The grounds of the abbey that afternoon were sparsely populated. Adelred stepped out into the sunshine and relished the soft breeze. The grass had been cut earlier that day, and the smell of cut green grass was like a happy thought in his senses. He walked to the small grotto close to the chapel and sat down on a stone bench. He pulled out his breviary and leafed through it and found his marker. He was about to say his evening prayers and made the sign of the cross.

A shadow fell across him, and he looked up. He couldn’t tell who it was, for the figure obliterated the sun and looked darker than it should have.

“Sorry, who is it?” Adelred asked, squinting. He realized it was the monk who was in his room the other night.

“It’s Brother Marcus.”

The dark figure moved, and Adelred saw it was actually Marcus. A slight odor of sulfur came to his nostrils. Marcus made a move to sit next to him. He was smiling, looking harmless. His teeth were crooked, Adelred noticed. “I wanted to ask you whether you have made any decisions about your staying here permanently.”

“No, not really,” Adelred said in response. “Are you in need of my cell? I noticed the abbey is chock-full of postulants.”

“Oh no, no. Nothing like that,” Marcus said, his eyes merry. “I’m just being officious. That’s my job. I have to make the rounds and ask about the visiting friars. You said that you were en route to the San Bernardino area?”

“Yes, I was asked by my superior in New York to stop here for a couple of weeks. I didn’t realize you were the person in charge of visitors. Abbot Jonas said nothing of you being like that. I had no idea.”

“Oh, perfectly all right,” Marcus said. “I see. So when are you leaving us?”

“Next Sunday,” Adelred replied. He folded his breviary and stood up. “Sorry, I need to go back to my cell. I forgot my devotional.”

“Perfectly all right.” Marcus stood up as well. “See you at supper.”

“Yes.”

“By the way, do you have family in New York then, or is that not where you are originally from?”

“I’m from Piscataway,” answered Adelred. A severe pain started on the base of his neck. “See you later then.”

Marcus watched him walk away, and a frown descended on his face. He looked angry by the time Adelred had disappeared inside the abbey.

Adelred sought the confines of his cell, and once he was inside, he went to the window and stood looking out. He saw nothing now. He was not in the right position to observe the grotto. He massaged his nape, and after a bit, the pain stopped.

* * *

Adelred, what happened? Michael asked. His thoughts were faint, almost imperceptible.

Marcus tried to kill me.

I know, that son of a bitch.

I’m fine now.

He should be avoided at all costs.

I can take care of myself.

Well, I don’t think you should put yourself in further peril. That so-called monk is capable of making you sick.

I thought . . . well, I thought I was immune.

You have a humanity that is prey to pain and suffering, Michael reminded him.

That is quite apparent, Adelred replied ruefully.

Now sit down and relax. Do as you were going to do.

I take it I can’t go around and make my rounds tonight?

I think we need to be cautious.

You know I can leave at any time.

That might have to be the case.

You really think this man is going to be a problem?

No, he won’t. You’ll be okay. You need to stay there until your time is up.

Okay."