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They sat in the courtyard of an close restaurant, a friendly undemanding place, good for a casual lunch. The air hummed and glowed, cozy with warmth and pollen. Nearby birds sang with clarity and a fountain burbled contentedly. Roses bushes bloomed and the flowers opened themselves, fanning out with a courtesan prettiness.
Anderson sipped a tumbler of Scotch he gazed at Maxwell who smiled at him like a dream figure in a lush green vision of spring. They had ordered their meals and now waited with majestic ease. The priest smiled back with dazed mysterious anguished joy, how sweet and fresh everything was. The pleasant shock of their meeting had overflowed the world and permeated it like incense. They needn't even speak Anderson thought, he is here and I am here, my child has come back and sits across from me.
"How much I am looking forward to lunch." The boy said.
"The meals can't be sae bad at St. Paul's is it?" Anderson replied. "They say teh better the school, teh worse teh food. Hunger kapes teh mind sharp."
"If the school was any better and my mind any sharper, I'd die."
"Poor deprived boy, thin as a reed." Anderson chuckled. "Even if teh dinen were teh finest, could ye even bear tae pry yerself away frum yer studies long enough tae eat?"
"Hardly. I do enjoy languages. I am attempting to master French, German, Greek, Latin. Recently I have been studying Hebrew."
"Ha ha. Wat a polyglot. How many languages dae ye want tae spake?"
"Why all Father, all to speak of the glory of God." Enrico said charmingly, his fingers folded together. There was a seductively conscious lively amused expression splayed across his vulpine features , light penetrating eyes, his long intelligent nose, the curved mouth in a "archaic" smile. Ever the pleased pedant, good looking, dignified and somehow a little comical too.
"Gude answer." Anderson grinned. "Remind me again, how long are ye due?"
"I have finished the minor portion. If all goes according to plan, I should start major seminary in the fall. But as I took some advanced courses over the summer, I'll probably be finished in two years as opposed to the usual four. " Enrico put two fingers up.
"Sae fast? There's nae need tae hurry!" The priest cajoled. "Ah remember bein yer age… school was an enjoyable time. Wat aboot yer class mates? Its not gude tae nae spend time wit yer friends."
" Yes. Friends can be useful. " Enrico conceded. "I should hope you remember your school days Teacher. It wasn't long ago."
Anderson snorted at Enrico's smarmy remark. " Heh. Ah'm as auld as teh hills."
"And you are as august as one." Enrico said with a coyly cunningly downcast smile. " Anyone would be fortunate to have your stature at any age."
"Is brown nosen wan of yer electives?" Anderson laughed.
" I have no idea what you mean." The young man's mouth parted in dismay but his eyes teased.
" Sure ye dunnae. Dunnae they say flattery is a form o' hatred? Ah dunnae ken how long its been, Ah won't be listenen tae nae filthy blarney."
" Filthy blarney? It is the immaculate truth Teacher. But is there a part I missed in the catechism where it says a priest must renounce the praise of a former charge?" The young man murmured slyly. "but alright Father. I will put an end to this. All the truly charming things to say to you will come to me long after this luncheon..."
"Thank gudeness fer that."
"How sweet it smells." Maxwell breathed. "There are many varieties of roses here-"
"Aye, but a rose is a rose is a rose, one poet said. Can't recall his name."
Enrico smiled cheekily, the tip of his tongue poked at the corner of his lip. "It was a poetess Father. Gertrude Stein."
"Well. Aren't ye a clever boy."Anderson chuckled with good natured peevishness into his drink. " Gude thang schools dunna neglect tae teech ye yer poetesses these days."
" Why do roses wilt I wonder?" Enrico stated. "Why will these roses spoil when their sole purpose of their existence to please with their delicacy and beauty?"
"Perhaps they serve other purposes, like tae remind us of oor mortality." Anderson reached to touch a nearby flower, petting its petals. "All men are like grass, and all their glory is like teh flowers of teh field; teh grass withers and teh flowers fall, but teh word of teh Lord stands forever"
"Oh" Maxwell pursed his mouth in playful dismay. "That is an rather dark and dour answer. And for such a nice and unassuming flower."
"O." Anderson spoke rollickingly . "Wat a dark and dour man am Ah."
"Then you should have ordered a steak Teacher. Then you would get a big knife.Maior risus, acrior ensis: quadragesima octava regula quaesitus."
"Ha ha yes."
"These roses. They speak to me too."
"And wat dae they tell ye Maxwell."
"If this rose were in the ground, it would wither, but then in time rise to delight us again." Maxwell sighed. "Astonishing us all. And they do it so peacefully and quietly too, with cunning. Flowers represent something. Eternal life, love. This flower was created by Our Lord to share with men His genius, When I look at this flower... I see what Adam once saw on the pristine morning of creation. Except his would not have been defiled and deformed with age. What a fool Adam was to ruin Perfection and deprive us of this gift."
"Aye, fergit teh yoke of damnation, death and sin and teh curse of pride." Anderson chuckled. " Its wilten roses that are teh real tragedy."
"But was it pride? Or misguided love for God?" Maxwell then said. Anderson felt his lips's corners turn upward. This was just like one of Maxwell's letters, taking a position for the sake of sparing." For what if Adam and Eve ate the fruit to know Our Father's ways, so that they could comprehend him as He was? In love they wanted to reflect his image perfectly, like children steal and dress in their parent's clothes seeking to imitate their greatness so that they may love them more? And God in his pride knowing they would do so, who could not accept their love or bear His own love for them, then he cast them away?"
"That makes God oot tae a bit villainous dunnae ye think."
"Not only. Brilliantly strategic. The serpent did not slither in by himself."
"But they believed teh serpent's lie. Yer theory daes away with their God given free will which they abused. They could have resisted teh temptation, if they had truly loved God, they would hae used their will tae obey Him."
"It is not possible to love and disobey?"
"Loven God? Nae. Loven yer sin and yerself. Remember Adam and Eve didnae take responsibility fer wat they did. They hid and when God found 'em, they blamed wan another. If it had been fer pure love fur God, wouldnae they have been unashamed and would hae come ferward?The priest mused as if to himself. "If they did it oot of love... they wouldn't hae needed teh serpent lie tae either. Lies are the enemy of love afterall. They would hae done it with teh full consequences in mind, trusten God's mercy, willen tae die tae love Him more-"
"One can be ashamed of their love and the impropriety it begets, the sacrifices it requires. Peter loved Christ and denied it." Enrico said softly.
Anderson blinked. Could those words come out of a sixteen year old boy?
" One of my tutors told me that Dante speculated mankind was in the garden only six hours before the Fall. How can that be?"Maxwell added.
Anderson scratched his head. " Even paradise gets auld."
" I would like to see for myself." Enrico smiled dreamily. " For God did not destroy the garden paradise, he only cast us out of it and set a sworded guard by its gate. Maybe it is possible that we can recover that lost innocence, that we could connive our way back in?"
"If ye find a way, ye let me know son." Anderson raised an eyebrow. "But Ah expect it probably dunnae involve much conniving. Thats wat caused everyone sae much trouble in teh first place."
The food came.
"Ah hope teh conversation warked up yer appetite." Anderson said cheerfully . "Yer enjoyen this aren't ye."
Maxwell rested his cheek with one hand. "Very much."
"Is that why didn't ye come back earlier?" Anderson threw up his hands. "Because ye thought ye wouldn't?"
"You could have come to visit me Father." Enrico said quietly.
Anderson frowned and then shrugged. "Ye never asked me tae lad. Should Ah have presumed tae invite maself?"
"So I see." Irritation crept into the boy's tone, as he straighted his back and folded his arms across his chest. A regal sulkiness was embodied in that upright stance. "So it is my fault?"
"Ye know it would have been far more convenient fer teh both of us fer ye tae come tae Luke's. Yer still a student. Ah have tae run teh orphanage. But ye never came back, not fer summers or Christmas."
The boy licked his lips. "Would you care to know why?"
"Ofcourse Ah ken."
"Honestly Father." Enrico's slender fingers slid up and down the circumference of his icy water glass. "I wasn't well received when I first arrived. Why should I expect it on my return?"
" Well received? C'mon now lad," The priest brayed,waving a dismissive hand. " That was ages ago. Naebody at Lukes remembers that."
"Alas I have a very clear faithful memory. I wished to wait"
"Wait till when?" Anderson scoffed. "Teh End of Days?"
"Until I became an astounding success." Enrico deadpanned. " Which may very well be at the End of Days"
" Bah! Yer already a success." Anderson jeered ." Ah read yer letters, seen yer marks! Ye have gifts! Yer bound fer grateness."
The boy looked intrigued. "What greatness do you foresee for me?"
"Ah'd say an intellectual like ye would make a gude Jesuit." Anderson said.
"Ah-" The boy's eye twitched. " Just ... a Jesuit?"
"Jes? There's naething wrong wit that. Its a meditative life. They'll let ye keep that lovely hair besides."
"Yes. I thought a teacher's main concern is for the aggrandizement of his students- not their meditation." Enrico said, his eyes widened. He leaned back in his seat, placed a pointed finger down the side of his cheek, a strange, spearing intense look. "Do you not think that perhaps a cardinal is realistic?
"Ye have ambitions Ah see. Ah'd nevar dream oof discouragen ye. Ah helped ye git tae that school fer a reason, sae ye'd git teh best education ye could. It was ye wanted tae leave remember?" Anderson said matteroffactly.
"Yes ofcourse it was-"
"Sae ye decided tae seek yer oon way. Its not fur me tae say wat will become of ye Enrico. Only God knows oor vocations, and it ought tae be enough tae let Him decide whether we are tae be great men or small men. "Fer we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus tae dae good works, which God prepared in advance for us tae dae." Ephesians 2:10 Teh most important decisions in oor lives are if we are tae be happy, gude and remain in Oor Lord's love, and that's left up tae oorselves."
Enrico's mouth quivered until it fixed itself into a carefully calm line. "I suppose that is true but-
" And who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written:"For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughter"No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us." Anderson belted out. "All ye must dae is Love God. In the words of St. Paul himself: All thangs work together fer gude fur those who love Him-"
"I have yet to see that in effect." Enrico snapped with a stinging bitterness, slamming a palm down on the table. "I cannot receive benefactions, honors or sacred orders as a illegitimate. In the future, I will have to wait for the pope's dispensation- that is the only way I can advance myself. So it is God pities for the orphan and the widow- it does not say what He feels towards bastard sons of mistresses. For all we know, The Lord may delight in their humiliation as the world does!"
Anderson stared back with grim perplexity at Enrico's mercurial shift in temperment. How could the boy go from being poetic to petty in an instant?
"Wat on earth are ye talking aboot?" Anderson growled as he rubbed his temple. "Where did ye git those mad ideas? If it from those books they been giving ye tae read at that school, Ah'd have them burnt."
"There's no need to get excited Father." Enrico amended himself with a alarmed smile and made small waves of his hand. "Can't a teacher tell when his student is speaking ironically? Perhaps you may have failed to understand my intentions-"
"Intended or not, that was a foolish sinful thang tae say. Irony has nae place in these matters. " Anderson tsked baffled and also disapproving. "Ye should know bettar. Shame on ye."
Maxwell's smile metamorphized to a brooding scowl.
"Shame? I thought it was my indecent hair that brought me shame, as you so jovially noted earlier." Enrico's voice lowered to a sarcastic drawl, hissing with a calm profound disgust. "Perhaps if you weren't so glib, I would assume a less ironic pose Father. If you were a little more sophisticated , you would know not to condescend to chant scripture at me when all I am doing is make chatter for your benefit."
"Alrite son." A disturbed, concerned and wary expression spread across Anderson's broad features."Dae ye want tae say that tae me again?"
"What use would there be in that Father?" Enrico uttered coolly, his eyes suave and barbed with resentment . A ghost of a smile slithered on his lips. "Once again, I was only being facetious. I do apologize."
"Ye dunnae have tae apologize tae me Maxwell. Ye dunnae have tae chatter fer ma benefit ethier, because that foolish nonsence certainly isnae benefitten me or anybady. It won't git ye far. "Anderson said solemnly. " But ye can dae watever ye want. If ye want tae git oot of her and lave me tae eat ma meal in peace, Ah'd dunnae mind. Teh doors open tae ye." He gestured to the ivy colored gate some ten feet away. " Infact, Ah'd much prefer it."
At that the boy's lips parted, a blank pause and then shook his head.
"Teacher please do not be angry with me. " Enrico looked up with blazingly beseeching eyes. "I'm not sure how I can extricate myself from this present shame... but ehat I said to you was sinful and completely untrue. I enjoy our conversations, as much as I have enjoyed recieving letters during this long interim. Your insight has always been appreciated, your steadfastness has always been inspiring and your strength of faith continues to provide an important example to me. I wish I could explain why then... but what form of words can explain such unacceptable behavior? Perhaps Roman's 7:15 "For that which I do I allow not: for what I would, that do I not; but what I hate, that do I..." I am grieved... exceedingly grieved if I have occasioned you any unhappiness or disappointment. I can only ask that you and God forgive me and my foolish outburst- and I hope you can overlook such rashness as no disrespect and want of courtesy was meant by it... I also hope that you afford me the priviledge of finshing our meal together- but if you want me to excuse myself, I understand completely. "
There were a few moments. The boy hands clasped together as if he were praying. Somethings never change Anderson thought.
"Fer Christ's sake." Anderson muttered. "Ah forgive ye. Eat befur it gits cauld."
They ate for a few moments in silence.
"Ah think Ah know why ye said those thangs. We all have troubles from oor past but ye hae tae put it awa." Anderson said suddenly.
" It does not matter. Not at all." Maxwell said ruefully as he ate . "No one takes the … plights of the young seriously."
"Ah dae. Son fur yer oon sake, ye have tae let all that sufferen gae."
"Ah, but where?"
"Tae God. His love and mercy is teh only relief fer troubles like these. Its too much fer anyone tae bear alone."Casting all my cares upon Him who cares for me." (1 Peter 5:7)
"I wish it were that simple."
" It is simple."
"Pray that that becomes apparent to me." Maxwell said listlessly.
"Ah already pray." Anderson grumbled with gruff admonishment."Ah've been prayen fer ye ever since ye were teh height of ma knee. Ah'll be prayen fer ye until Ah'm wit God and Ah'll probably hae tae pray fer ye there too. "
The boy dropped his fork with a clang and dove down into his hands.
"Maxwell... watsa matter.." The priest gaped cluelessly."Ye feel sick?"
"No. Its nothing Father. Its ... its... just that I often wondered if you did that. Still prayed for me that is. " Enrico said in a surprisingly even hush. His hands trembled away as tears like dew meandered down his closed petal like eye lids, down his cheeks, over the crescent of his lips into the welt of his lap. " Isn't that absurd of me. I doubt anyone else does."
Anderson sat back and inhaled deeply out of sheer surprise. The implications of that statement seemed to fly up around them like a crowd of frightened birds darting in all directions.
"They are plenty of people but they won't admit tae prayen on yer behalf. They knew better than that." Anderson croaked breathlessly and offered Maxwell his linen monogrammed handkerchief from his breast pocket.
The young man took it and wiped his face with great care.
"Now lets kape it taegether and get through this lunch eh?" Anderson tried to make light if it. "Ah know yer auld teacher can be hard tae bear, but we're not even half-way done."
"Yes sir." Enrico shyly offered Anderson's handkerchief back to him. " I have embarrassed you..."
"Ye couldnae embarass me wit tears." Anderson insisted as he grasped the other end of the offered cloth. "Its a sad thang if a man can't shed a few of 'em now and then."
As both their hands grasped the same handkerchief, their eyes and fingertips met. In the same instant their soul touched. A spasm of pain passed through them both. The boy grimaced and let go of his end quickly, as if abruptly seized by a sensation that he could not represent. Anderson took back his handkerchief, wet and soft with Enrico's tears and folded into in his breast pocket like it were a fragile living creature. The priest could feel its dampness on his heart and was suddenly embarrassed, overly warm and smothered with furtive confused tenderness and clumsy inarticulate yearnings. If only Anderson could embrace Enrico, stroke gently the back of the boy's head, even reach over and give the boy's slim and pale hand a mild squeeze. What a privilege that would be, how meaningful these small gestures are! When Maxwell was in his care Anderson could have demonstrated his affection in these ways, but he hadn't. Now it was too late, impossible. What was construed as mutual awkwardness and embarrassment was actually a herald of something deeper, like regret, even grief.
Anderson noticed Maxwell looked wide eyed with dismay to their side. Anderson turned to look. There stood the middle aged waiter, leaning agianst one of the restaurant's pillar, leering with malicious curiosity, like some malign Crucifixion bystander.
"We probably cannot eat here again,can we." Maxwell muttered, cringing.
Anderson gave the sneering waiter his most gruesome smile and made a jolting prowling motion as if he were about to stand and walk towards him. "Ye meen at this ungodly shitehole wit their poncy waiters?"
The waiter backed away and ducked skittishly into the kitchen.
Anderson situated himself comfortably, slumping back into his seat, and raised his glass. He downed the rest of his scotch."Now we certainly can't eat here again. Cheers. "
Maxwell raised his water glass with a excited pleased admiring look. He took a long sip.
They placed their drinks down and laughed softly.
"Excuse ma language child."
"It is quite alright father, but take it that we should not stay for desert-"
The air was grassy, cool, slightly moist and spiced in later afternoon. The two men walked swayingly side by side in companionable silence, like spirits for several miles to the local train station.
"You didn't have to be so kind to see me off Father."
"Think naethang of it. A man of ma age should walk more."
"May I ask old you are?" Enrico walked with both hands held behind his back.
"Insolent boy," Anderson sighed. "of all thangs, why dae ye need tae know that?"
Enrico gave him a wry look. "Because I need to know everything."
"How auld dae ye think Ah am. Ah ask ye tae think carefully before ye spake."
"Thirty five?"
Anderson smiled slowly. "Yer fifteen years too low."
"Fifty?" The young man gawked. "Noooo."
"Appearances can be deceiven."
"Yes. That is the most interesting thing about them."
They had arrived to the end of the outside train platform, a bit like the edge of the world.
" Ah got a question fer ye son."
"I will do my best."
"Why did ye come tae see me taeday? Ye were curious?"
" You could say that yes. My curiosity has been satisfied. After all these years of correspondences, it was fine to see you Father. You are just as I remember you."
"Ah'm glad. Ye turned oot well Maxwell." Anderson huffed. "A wee heavy on teh flattery, but overall a fine young man. Pity that ye can't stay longer."
"Thank you Father." Maxwell assented with a polite nod. " But I shouldn't overstay my welcome. Thank you very much for lunch."
"Well." Anderson stared at him oddly, a little stung by the remark. "It was ma plazure."
The train began to pull in from a far, a howling like an on-coming storm, a charging dragon.
"Its not a far journey by train is it?"
"Not at all." Enrico said. The boy already looked vague and distracted, as if he had left already. "Not by any means."
"Are ye happier now son?"
"PARDON?"The boy yelped over the roar, his ponytail had loosened. Hair flew around his bemused face in fair wisps
"Ah'm asken ye are ye HAPPIER now? " Anderson called.
The train screeched and halted.
"Happiness? Who cares for happiness when one has their work?" Maxwell brushed his hair back with one hand and readjusted the strap of his rosewood leather bag on his shoulder. "I am sorry Father but I must catch this train."
"Alrite, alrite. Hae a safe journey. Ah may not look fifty but its teh truth. Time is not on ma side. Ye best come home and see me soon. Ye hear me?"
Maxwell caught Anderson's forearm in a Roman handshake. Anderson remained still as the boy came close.
"Time seems impartial to me Teacher. But I do hear you. " Enrico clasped harder – the warmth that coursed between their clothes and skins being taken in by Maxwell's vice grip, stored for some future time. "Good bye."
"God gae wit ye."
Once again Anderson watched Enrico leave and once again Enrico did not look back.
A few hours passed, it was nearly dark out, the sky the color of Maxwell's characteristic peacock blue ink. Anderson removed his coat, his gloves, and washed his face beset with the keen oustanding sense of being alone. Being a priest was a lonely occupation, but Anderson enjoyed his loneliness, perhaps needed it. He changed into his night clothes, poured himself a drink.
In his room, by dim desk light, Anderson took out a piece of paper.
Dear Enrico, After so many years, I have finally seen you.
Anderson gazed at his inky script with both wonderment and hesitation. He attempted to make sense of the chaff fluttering about in his mind, almost thoughts but not quite. Why should writing to the boy be harder now than it was before? Words, words, words. The sound of Enrico's laugh and voice haunted like a ghostly lullaby in his ears. I have finally seen him. And what does it mean?
Anderson set down his pen and adjusted the glasses on his nose.
It was terrible to admit but Anderson had felt guiltily relieved at the removal of the boy and his complex aloof unhappiness from his home. He had felt those familiar feelings of relief when Maxwell had left today. The priest also felt a dull pity contaminated by a helpless dark incomprehension and grave unease. Such invading and unpleasant feelings were not unfamiliar, it had entered in his consciousness ever since Maxwell had entered his house. At Maxwell's leaving, it had receded, and at the boy's reappearance it rose up tall and terrible like a shade would on a cave wall now armed with brilliant violet stare. How perverse, as if he were reliving and renacting a doomed spirtual pattern.
The priest could never comprehend that child or his feelings concerning him. Unlike the other orphans who he loved so simply and abundantly, he could never love Maxwell as simply or much as he should. But Anderson still loved Maxwell he assured himself, he loved all his children. You needn't understand someone to love them. Alas he usually experienced his love for that boy as an awful anxiety, a fascinating puzzle, at times a obscure kind of self-punishment, but mostly not very deeply. He loathed the thought to that his concern for the boy was one conferred by convention of his house of which they had resided for a time.
Sending the boy off was only incidentally a convenient resolution to this dilemma. Anderson liked to dwell on the most positive interpretation of things. Hadn't he been Maxwell's discoverer? Once spotting the boy's talents and potential and recognizing the boy's desires, the priest had responded selflessly, responsibly, in Enrico's best interest. At 's Maxwell would not be stifled, he would be paid attention to, taught and understood by men much more sophisticated and patient than he. Surely Maxwell was much happier. It was not treacherous or overly optimistic to believe that.
Even so Anderson willed himself to think of the child, to pray and apprehend the boy in loving kindness. At times he even imagined in a rather maudlin ridiculous way that he missed Maxwell and that the boy missed him too. This turmoil of contrived sadness would empty itself into a whistful sense of his own virtue. God knew of Anderson's strength, his dedication, his good intentions, so whether he actually spoke to Enrico was irrelevant. But he had written the letters too hadn't he? The substance and evidence of love.
"You could have come to see me Father."
Yes I could have, the priest thought but- but what? Why couldn't he? He just couldn't! Somehow, the boy had managed to grow up without him anyways.
He stepped on something- he bent down to see. It was his hankerchief that had fallen out of his coat. It still smelt sweetly of spring air and youthful tears. Frustrated,Anderson crumpled the cloth and the paper and shoved them both into a drawer, crashing it shut and nearly knocking it off its hinges. I will think about this later, he soothed himself, when I'm not so tired. He picked up his bible and began to read.
"By night on my bed I sought him whom my soul loveth: I sought him, but I found him not.