Pete heard it before he saw it, the quick whoosh of the stick through the air, and the thwack-thwack-thwack as it hit Neb’s backside. In the clearing, Louis raised the stick over his head to strike again, but Pete was too fast and snatched it away. Louis stood with his mouth gaping and his arm stretched out. Pete wanted to give his open palm a clean smack, but he snapped the stick in two and dropped it to the ground. Neb let out a snuffle and dug a hoof into the dirt, kicking up dust.
“If I ever catch you doing that again,” Pete began, but he knew as soon as he said them that his words were not well chosen, so he stopped. He took Neb’s rope and led her up the hill.
“Brother Louis told me what happened,” said Father Gabriel when he called Pete in the next morning. “I know there are two sides to every story.”
There were more than that, but when Pete spoke to Father Gabriel, their talks did split in two, what Pete answered and what was left unspoken. “He beat Neb again,” said Pete.
“The mule was not hauling,” said Father Gabriel. “Brother Louis nudged it to encourage its cooperation.”
“Neb’s a donkey,” said Pete. “He beat her with a stick.”
Father Gabriel put his hands together, touching at the fingertips, and took a breath. “Let man have power over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle. That is Genesis. You may have come across it in your reading. Notice that the cattle are singled out for special mention.”
Pete gazed at the floor. He had washed it three days ago but it was dirty. Neb was not cattle.
“Brother Peter, you are a good worker,” Father Gabriel went on. “Maybe you have a calling. Maybe not. Brother Louis has taken vows. You have taken none. You will need to choose. We all have our choices. You have been with us for two years now. You must remember that simply in being here, you have taken a vow of obedience. Our lives here are a great mystery. We all add up to something and nobody knows what it is, but it is greater than any one of us by ourselves.” He yawned. His nose looked like a strawberry. It was bright red with pores like seeds. “Nobody knows where the journey ends,” he mumbled. He ordered Pete to do three Hail Marys. He rubbed his hands together and then he waved Pete away.
Were you called here? That was the question Pete asked himself when he was alone in his cell. Through his window was a view of the valley. Every day it was drenched in sunlight. The open sky spread out above. At night it filled with stars. To see the world’s beauty all he had to do was look. If he leaned out, he could glimpse the roof of the barn where Neb was, and the gate beyond. But the window was not his, nothing belonged to him. That was as it should be. Other valleys lay in shadow.