He stepped into the room. “It haseverythingto do with bullying! In school, everyone treated me like that after I made one small mistake.”
Anger reared its ugly head, and it took everything in me to wrestle it into submission. “It wasn’t a small mistake, Matt,” I gritted out, gripping fork and knife so hard my knuckles turned white. “It affected the entire monastery. Our congregation is already shrinking because of me.”
“I saw a lot of new faces on Sunday. They came because of you.”
I closed my eyes. Took a calming breath. “Look, I know you’ve never experienced excommunication before, but it’s part of being a monk. You need to let it go.”
“Brother Samuel is right about that.”
I almost choked on the piece of chicken I’d just shoved in my mouth.
“Father Cruz.” Matt had whipped around to the abbot standing in the door, and now turned back to me, staring at me out of comically big eyes.
“Shouldn’t you be in your cell, Brother Matthew?” Hands folded behind his back, Father Cruz stepped into the dining room like a judge ready to announce our verdict.
Matt scratched his forehead. “Yup, I totally should. I just . . .” He gestured at me. Rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, no. Ishould definitely be in my cell. Doing . . . stuff. P-praying. That’s what I should be doing.” He nodded vigorously. “Yup.”
When he turned and made for the door, Father Cruz caught his cowl. It was only a light tug, but Matt acted like he’d been ripped back. He let out an exaggerated choking sound.
A grin ripped across my face, and I pressed a fist to my mouth to hide it. What a clown. Yet a smart move to defuse the dire situation.
“Please take care of Brother Samuel’s plate so I can talk to him.” Looking at me, Father Cruz jerked his head at the entrance.
“You know what?” Matt shook his head. “I should get punished, too. You know why? I kissed him. I kissed Brother Samuel.”
Clattering echoed off the stone walls, and it took me a moment to realize I’d dropped my fork onto the plate. Now total silence commanded the room.
Father Cruz stared at Matt, then his piercing gaze came to me.
“He didn’t kiss me,” I choked out.
“But I would have if you hadn’t stopped me. And I know it was wrong, okay? If I could go back and change it, I would, even though deep down I don’t want to.”
Shut up, Matt. Just shut up.Every word he dropped propelled him forward on the highway to perdition.
“I appreciate your honesty, Brother Matthew,” Father Cruz said. “Now please take care of Brother Samuel’s plate, then go to your cell.”
This time, Matt didn’t protest. He cleared my plate, then left the room.
A couple of minutes later I sat across from Father Cruz in the rectory. Darkness pressed against the windows, making me wish I would be allowed to sleep outside again. As for now I was confined to my cell. Good punishment, but still not enough.
“He’s clearly confused.” My voice sounded as raw as my soul felt. “And I’m pretty sure he acted in the heat of his emo—”
Father Cruz silenced me with a raised hand. “This is between Brother Matthew and me.”
I dipped my chin to my chest. Everything in me wanted to fight for Matt. It didn’t look good for him. But Father Cruz was right. This wasn’t my battle.
“How has the last week been?” he asked.
I pondered the question for a moment before answering. “I wish there was some kind of physical punishment, because isolation and repenting don’t do the job.”
“What kind?”
“Desert thorns and briars, if you will.”
“You got that from Judges.” Father Cruz sighed as if not knowing what to do with me. Couldn’t blame him. I’d given him a lot of grief. “Do you reckon that would make a change?”
Maybe. I didn’t know. There had to be a reason why physical punishment had been popular back in the day. Either way, I certainly deserved it.
