William H. Hallahan - by The Monk Read Free Book Online Page A

Then he glanced at the baptism party. "A moment
more." At the doorway, in silence, a knot of monks had hastily
gathered as word spread through the monastery. They stared at the
baby.
    Father Joseph arrived, a middle-aged man whose shaven pate made
his brown eyes stand out from his pale face. He crossed the chapel in
long swinging strides to the baby and picked him up. "Who is the
father? Please come with me. Brother Mark will take down the
particulars from the mother." And he strode out of the room,
followed by several monks and Jim Davitt.
    They entered a small room, with three narrow windows let into the
stone wall. In the middle of the room was a round stone pillar with a
flat top about three feet high. Hanging on the walls were sprays of
mistletoe.
    Father Joseph laid the baby on the stone table and opened the
swaddling.
    "It's true!" the other monks said. "A purple aura!"
    "Dear God in heaven. Such a beautiful creature."
    "It's a miracle he's still alive."
    "Satan will murder him in his sleep."
    "Shhhhhh!" Father Joseph held a silencing hand up.
"Prepare the pentacle." Then he turned to Jim Davitt. "Your
son has a purple aura."
    "What's that mean?"
    "Every human being has an aura. Most are earth color, browns,
tans, dark yellows. Yours is tan. Angels have a blue aura." He
watched Jim Davitt suppress a smirk. "The aura of demons is red.
I see doubt on your face. I must tell you that your son is in grave
danger. And that you can truly believe."
    Davitt stopped smirking. "How? What does a purple aura mean?"
    "Enormous benevolence. A bonny happy child. Only one or two
purple auras are born in a lifetime. But no child with such an aura
has lived for more than a few days."
    "Why?"
    "For reasons unknown to us, Satan cruelly kills infants born
with a purple aura. It is a miracle he has not found this baby."
    Stunned, Jim Davitt stood turning this over in his mind as he
watched two monks chalk a circle on the stone tabletop.
    "There is a way to alter the color of an aura. But it is only
temporary. I can't say how long, a few years, a decade. Possibly
longer. But I don't think the process can be repeated. We know so
little about these matters. When Baby Brendan's aura begins to turn
purple again, you will have to cloister him from the world and hope
that Satan doesn't find him."
    "But how will I know when his aura is changing? I can't see
anything. How can you?"
    "Training. We will keep watch over him. When the aura becomes
purple again, we will take him to a cloister for concealment. I am
sorry to present this tragedy to your family. If you'll be guided by
me in this matter, you should never mention a word of this to anyone,
not even your wife. And I would not tell Brendan himself until he's
of an age to make mature judgments. Children have a way of telling
secrets."
    Jim Davitt stood in a daze. "I'm not sure I can take all of
this seriously."
    "If you don't believe me, it is your son who will pay."
    Jim Davitt waited in the corridor as monks hurried in and out of
the round room. Several times he heard Brendan cry, and he was
tempted to push his way into the room and carry his son off. Finally,
Father Joseph stepped into the corridor. "For the time being he
is safe. Let's baptize him now."
    The christening party was a great event. Everyone gathered at Aunt
Agnes's cottage. Cars crowded into the farmyard and lined both sides
of the narrow road. The homemade poteen in jugs and the bottles of
whiskey and stout flowed with pots of hot tea and the house was
filled with the babble of Irish country talk. And the women gathered
around the baby and admired his strong limbs and delicate features
and the beautiful hand-crocheted christening dress that was at least
a hundred years old. Aunt Agnes had put fresh green ribbons in it.
But with furtive eyes and lowered voices, they stood in small groups
and talked about the strange events, and their whole tone was more
like a wake than a christening.
    At last, when the accordion was brought into