Simon and his allies had not taken kindly to Alphaios's reference to the color of his eyes. Anger was not a Christian virtue, for wrath—one of the seven deadly sins—was closely linked to such sins as pride and envy and stood in the way of charity and forgiveness. Nonetheless, he felt its hard, rough edges each day from Brothers Simon, Levi and Samuel. He was unsettled, but believed that at chapter he had acted not to provoke others but to reveal himself in prayer.
Counter to his intuition, after the chapter meeting he worried less, not more, that his exploration of the city might be discovered and used against him. He had bared his heart and soul to his brothers. Some had accepted it, some had not. Those who had not, would not, for reasons Alphaios could neither understand nor control. He did know that he would not let them squeeze his soul into a tight mold not his own. He would not let them drain the color from his faith, the joy from his spirit.
Returning from the scriptorium some weeks later, he opened the monastery's big door to the sight of monks running across the courtyard and into the church. Brother Maynard called out, "It's Mad Old George!"
Alphaios's stomach clenched as he recalled the physical eviction of the old man from the church. He was probably mentally ill, and Alphaios's own supposed sin had been not bending to the angry will of Levi.
He joined the rush and ran through the door to the choir and into the nave. The church was quiet for the moment, but not without drama. Mad Old George was lying motionless on the floor. Brother Samuel knelt beside him, and three other monks stood over them, breathing heavily. As before, Mad Old George had removed all his clothes except for a kind of loincloth. A dozen or so regulars had edged up the aisles to get a closer view. Someone thrust open the front door and ran out.
Brother Haman was standing to one side, red-faced and frightened. "He came in while I was helping a woman in the chapel. I heard him yelling, but by the time I got to him he'd already taken off his clothes. He was flailing around, and I couldn't get near him. I begged him to stop, to be quiet, but he wouldn't listen to me. Called me a devil! Philemon heard him, didn't you, Philemon? Philemon?" He paused until the other monk nodded, then went breathlessly on. "Then all of a sudden he fell down. Just collapsed."
"Is he alive?" Brother Maynard asked.
"His eyes are blinking and his chest is moving," Samuel said, "but he isn't responding to anything. It's like he isn't seeing anything, either."
Alphaios heard Brother Levi came up behind him. His voice was ice. "Well, praise God in heaven. Even He has had enough of this madman. Haul him out of here. Maynard. Haman."
Alphaios couldn't permit it to happen again. He turned and spoke quietly. "No, Levi. The man is sick. He needs help."
Levi stared at him. This time his voice was tinged with something sour. "You will defy me again?"
"If you insist on throwing him out again, yes, Brother, I will."
"Alphaios is right, Levi," Maynard said. "Whatever Old George did, it's over. He needs a doctor. Haman, go ask Bartholomew to call for help. If he's not there, call 911 yourself. Tell them we need an ambulance. Quickly."
Haman had made it only halfway to the side door when Levi spit his invective again. "Samuel, you help me! Take his arms, I'll take his legs."
Though Levi stepped forward, Samuel didn't rise. "No, Levi, you can't take the weight. Besides, I agree with Alphaios and Maynard. Leave him here. Let the medics handle it."
Levi's face turned dark, an unhealthy purple. He stared at each of the brothers in turn, then spun around and stalked out of the church. He brushed past Brother Haman as if he weren't there. Haman stopped and looked back, as if uncertain what to do next.
"Now, Haman," Maynard called. "Go!"
Brother Samuel turned back to Mad Old George, and Alphaios's attention was drawn to the men and women huddled at the first pew. Some seemed to be simply curious, but he could see genuine concern on several faces. He crossed the small space. "Do any of you know George?"
A woman nodded. She was of unknowable age and wore a rough, crusted blue scarf over stringy gray hair. "You need to talk to Jimmy."
"Jimmy?"
"You know him, Brother. Jimmy."
Alphaios finally recalled the slight man who had been eager to help him replace the broken tiles. "Oh, Jimmy Belkin."
"Dawg went to get him. He'll come if Dawg can find him."
Alphaios assumed that Dawg was a person. "Thank you. Does anybody else know about George?"
The response was a wave of shaking heads. Several of the group turned away or backed up a step, eyes downward to avoid any suggestion of personal involvement.
"How is he, Brother?" called a voice.
"We don't know. We're calling for help."
A few minutes later, the front door of the church opened and Jimmy entered, trailed by the man who'd gone to find him. Jimmy strode to the front of the nave and worked his way through the clutch of onlookers. His eyes found the man on the floor, then Alphaios.
"What'd they do to ‘im?"
"Nothing, Jimmy. He was agitated and screaming. Then he collapsed. I don't think anybody touched him."
Jimmy nodded as if it were expected. "How is he?"
"Breathing but not saying anything. Haman's calling 911."
"It'll be a while 'fore they get here. Can I go to him? He knows me."
Jimmy moved past Alphaios and stood for a moment by Brother Maynard. He sat down on the floor facing George, then took the man's limp hand and held it in his own. He looked at Samuel and then up at the other monks. "Can you give us some room? He's with me now."
Jimmy didn't fuss over Mad Old George. He simply sat there beside him, holding his hand. Alphaios watched George's eyes seek out and find Jimmy's face. Once there, they stayed.
Something in Jimmy's calm suggested this was not the first time something like this had happened. This wandering, homeless soul was far better at comforting a sick man than all the monks around him. Here was the Samaritan among the Christians.
When they arrived, the ambulance crew knew Mad Old George. They spoke to him by name—leaving off the "Mad Old" nomen. They seemed more efficient than kind. They gave him intravenous fluids, and before long had him strapped to a gurney and on his way toward the front door. Jimmy walked beside him. One of the church regulars collected George's clothes and followed them out.
Alphaios approached a medic who was gathering up his gear. "Has this happened before?"
"Let's just say we know George pretty well."
"Does he do this often? I mean in churches?"
The man nodded. "Seems to have a thing about churches. He's pretty much okay until his meds run out. Then we get one of these calls. Seems the only time he can get meds is when we haul him in. Have to say, though, seems a lot worse this time. Gotta go."
Alphaios watched the doors close behind the ungainly little recessional.
The group of parishioners was smaller now, but still huddled near the front pews when he left for his cell. Maynard and Samuel had already gone. Brother Haman was sitting down, looking somewhere between prayerful and dazed. Alphaios knew how he felt.
Tension was palpable when the monks gathered for vespers—George's intrusion and Brother Levi's outburst were known by the whole group. There was no hint of what might come next, but they knew it would be something.
Levi didn't appear at vespers or compline that night, nor did he come to dinner. In the morning he showed up for lauds and resumed his place at the meal table. He was subdued but not spiritually quiet. All was not yet right.
~*~
Brother Haman must have been waiting for him, for when Alphaios came back through the great doors the next day, he came immediately into the courtyard and waved Alphaios toward the church.
"Brother! Brother, I must see you."
Alphaios smiled. "Why, Brother Haman, not even a pleasantry?"
Haman looked confused, then blushed. "Good afternoon, Alphaios. Now, I must see you."
Alphaios didn't want to torment the shy monk. "Of course. What is it?"
"It's Jimmy. He's been in and out all day asking for you. Says it's urgent."
Alphaios would be happy to see Jimmy, but wondered what he could need.
"He says it's about Mad Old George," Haman said. "But that's all he'll say. He's here now."
Alphaios nodded and followed Haman. Inside, Jimmy was pacing the nearside aisle. Ordinarily he would have been instructed to sit down and let others pray in peace—this was a pleasant fiction, of course, for virtually all of the "parishioners" were there for their physical comfort, not prayer. Still, the rule was generally enforced, and by and large followed without complaint.
Jimmy almost ran to him. Alphaios put a finger to his lips and guided his visitor back down the aisle and out the front door. The steps were not exactly private, but here they could talk. He waited until a delivery truck roared by in low gear. "What is it, Jimmy?"
"It's George, Brother. He's in the hospital."
"I was afraid of that. How bad is it?"
"They won' tell me. They've always lemme in to see him before. This time they won't even lemme on the floor. I think he's dyin'."
"Have you seen him?"
"I followed a nurse through a locked door. Chased me out, but not before I saw 'im. He's 'tached to a bunch of tubes and wires. I saw a priest come outta his room. Brother, he has to go see 'im 'fore it's too late."
"Who has to?"
"You don't know?" Jimmy flushed, then took a step down the stairs. "Sorry, Brother. Didn' mean to bother you."
"Jimmy, what is it you expect me to know?"
But Jimmy kept moving. When he reached the bottom of the steps he turned to look up at Alphaios. He looked apologetic, but all he said was, "You have a good one, Brother."
Alphaios raised both arms in frustration. "Jimmy! Who has to go see him?"
Jimmy looked up at him strangely. "Well, Brother Levi." He stated it as if it were obvious.
Alphaios was thoroughly confused. "Why in the world...?"
"You don't know?"
"Know what, Jimmy?"
"Levi's George's brother."
Alphaios felt his heart rate shoot up. He grasped the handrail for support. "You mean...how?"
"Well, half-brother. Differen' fathers. Told me so hisself. Wouldn't say much, 'cepting that."
George, Levi's brother? He stood there, letting it sink in. "Who knows this? Anyone else?"
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno. Thought all you brothers knew. Why wouldn' you?"
It was a good question.
"Been trouble there for a long time," Jimmy said. "They need t' sort it out while they still can. Can Brother Levi come t' the hospital?"
Alphaios couldn't conceive of Levi going to visit Mad Old George. But there was another problem. "He's taken a vow, Jimmy. He's cloistered here."
"You go out."
"It's different. I was sent here with a requirement to do my work someplace else. But Brother Levi doesn't leave the cloister."
"Even with his own brother dyin'?"
"Even then."
Jimmy shook his head in disbelief. "Seems downright unchristian." He banged the heel of his hand slowly on the iron handrail. "Brother Levi made a choice to be alone. George didn't. It's jus' always been that way, his bein' alone. Who's going to help George now? Who's going t' mourn him, he dies?"
Alphaios wondered what could be behind such a long and lacerating rift between family members. "I don't know that, Jimmy. I don't know."
Jimmy gave his head a slight shake, then turned to walk away.
"Let me know what happens with George."
Jimmy paused for just a moment. Without turning back toward Alphaios, he gave a small nod. Then he stepped into the flow of pedestrians and was gone.
~*~
As seemed inevitable in a chapter of faults, the subject of Mad Old George was brought up once again. It was not accusation this time, but a query from Brother Richard, who had not witnessed the event. He wanted to address it, he said, because it had broken the peace among them yet again.
It was not Brother Simon who brought up the matter, and Richard had no tone in his voice that indicated anything but sincerity. This was not preplanned by Simon or Levi; perhaps the fact that George had been so unresponsive had softened their feelings.
Alphaios knew none of his brothers had forgotten the last time they had discussed Mad Old George, and noticed their bodies shifting with anxiety. Most of them did not like conflict. He knew he didn't.
Richard turned his question to Brother Levi, inviting him to respond first.
Levi had been silent until this time, seemingly closed to what was going on around him. But when this subject surfaced, his back stiffened and he looked at no one but Richard. He started with a deliberate, forced quiet, but then his voice rose steadily.
"We battle the devil with every breath we breathe. We cast out this blasphemer, yet let him enter God's house again and again. And now, given the opportunity to confront and expel him once more, do we do so? No, we permit Satan, feigning some mortal illness, to remain in the House of the Lord!" He was loud now, disconcertingly so. His voice turned bitter, sarcastic. "We coddle him. We hold his hand. We ask him, ‘How may we help you, O great Satan? How may we ease your stay?'" Now, he was shouting. "Are we not men of God? I ask you, Brother, are we not men of God?"
There was a shocked silence in the room. Richard looked shaken—he'd clearly not expected such an outburst.
Simon reached out and rested his hand on the older monk's arm. "Of course we're men of God, my brother. I'm sure those involved can see the error of their ways."
"Not at all, Brother." Maynard was red in the face. "We sought help for a sick man. He posed no threat. He was no longer cursing or defaming anyone. He was ill."
Levi shook away Simon's hand. "Ill? God struck him down for his blasphemies, yet you give him succor? You offer him comfort?"
Maynard started to answer, but was interrupted by another shout. Levi had stood up, and was bent forward with emotion. "Do you not yet know that he's the devil?"
After a moment or two, Levi realized he was standing. Shaking visibly, he sat down.
Simon appeared ready to say something to Levi, but Alphaios spoke first, gently. "Brother Levi, who is George?"
Levi looked at Alphaios, and his eyes widened. He spoke at normal volume, but with ice again in his voice. "The voice of the devil, and you are his protector."
"Brother," Alphaios said, again quietly, "who is George?" He could feel the eyes of Prior Bartholomew and his brothers as they wondered what he was getting at.
Levi's response this time was blustery, but Alphaios could see awareness dawning in his eyes. "He's Mad Old George! He's a curse to our sanctuary!"
"Yes, he's Mad Old George. But who is he?"
Levi's voice was climbing again. "How should I know who he is?" The question hung in the air.
"Is he your brother?"
The room was silent for a long, long moment. The monks Alphaios could see were wide-eyed, some with their mouths open.
"No! He's not my brother! How did you get that—?"
"Half-brother, Levi. Do you share the same mother?"
Levi's bluster was gone. He looked at Alphaios with incredulity. Then he seemed to crumple where he sat.
No one moved. Everyone, including Brother Simon, was looking at Levi with open astonishment. No one spoke as realization began dawning upon them.
What were they to say? Alphaios had had a day to ponder it and still wasn't certain where to go from here. Yet he needed to offer something. With the slightest shake of his head, Prior Bartholomew signaled him to wait.
The silence stretched out again while the prior gathered his thoughts. His voice was gentle, too.
"Levi, it's true? George is your brother?"
"Half-brother," Levi mumbled. "He's my half-brother."
Prior Bartholomew let the silence absorb some of the electricity in the room.
"Brother, none of us knows what awful circumstances or pain or injury might have befallen you. Or what might have caused such alienation between you and your half-brother. Except we can understand it must have been torturous, too painful to bear. We don't need to know what befell you, and will not ask. We offer our understanding and compassion. As you well know, the privacy and blessing of the confessional are available if you wish."
Levi did not respond. His head was hanging low, his shoulders sagging. In contrast, Alphaios's body was buzzing as if all his nerve endings were firing at once. He didn't know where his actions this day might lead, but needed to tell Prior Bartholomew about George's medical condition and Jimmy's wish to have Levi visit him.
~*~*~