Holes in The History of The Universe

9: In Which Samual Gets Reintroduced to Church

Alastair and Samual were able to handle their work and relationship in a far more docile manner the next day, as well as the day after that, the third day, however, included almost no doctoring. It was actually a far nicer day then he expected it to be, instead of rising early in the morning, before he even awoke for school, they were able to sleep far into the morning, and he awoke to a warm breakfast. He didn't even suspect anything until Alastier mentioned the reasoning during breakfast.

"I'm assuming you know that we will be attending church today."

He practically inhaled a spoonful oatmeal, "we are?" In his defense, it was awfully random.

Alasstier's eyebrows knitted, "indeed, and then afterwards we have a few errands to run, it is, afterall, Sunday."

So, within minutes of finishing their food, they were strolling down the road to a bridge at the river with Alastair's family, giving Samual time to prepare. He had been to church before, compliments of his father, and, as most children did, he hated it, but at least the experience allowed him to learn long ago how to tolerate such a stuffy environment.

The monastery was, to say the least, beautiful, much prettier than any church he had ever been in, it was right beside a castle, and skillfully crafted windows covered the walls, shining just enough light into the room to create the proper ambiance painted the walls. intricate statues lined the inside alter, and Samual couldn't help but stare at them. Hoards of people lined up outside the mouth-like set of doors, many of them straying occasionally to talk with friends and family, including Alastair, who excused himself to step into a small gathering of other plague doctors, 'probably to discuss boring business stuff,' Samual supposed.

He stepped into the church and took a look around, quickly noticing the monastery's small size, and it's distinct lack of pews, in fact, there was only one in the entire church, which was already fully occupied by an elderly couple and a heavily pregnant woman. With a wrinkle of his nose, he stepped back outside, and snuck into the center of Alastair's group.

Even though the in depth conversation about recent patients and the best places to buy leeches was actually quite interesting, they way they all talked about it was riddled with apathetic cynicallity towards life, and Alastair wasn't even near the worst of it, but he hadn't joined the conversation to judge their conversation skills or even to be social, so that wasn't his problem.

"Excuse me," he announced, during the next of many long awkward pauses, "where are all the pews?"

"In the back of the church, boy," said Alastair, "surely you saw them, but they aren't for you, those of us blessed with strong bodies shall stand during services."

"Who is this?" Asked one of the older, yet healthier looking ones.

"His name is Samual," stated he, "he's been staying with me after a rather complicated incident that even I am yet to completely understand.

There was a chuckle, "now Alastair, have you been taking in plague orphans?"

That led the tired looking ones to talk, "of course he has, I told you lot time and time again that he was too soft for our lifestyle."

"Be reasonable, if he doesn't make you sick, you will certainly do that to him."

"Nonsense," interrupted he, "from what I've perceived, his backstory is not nearly that tragic, he merely seems to be misplaced, and listen to the way he speaks, have you ever heard anyone talk like that, at least from around here?"

The others chuckled, "alright, if you really think so." it was one of the younger ones who spoke next, "are you planning on apprenticing him? He certainly has the outfit for it."

"Perhaps," Alastair nodded, gazing down at him, "if he stays in my care long enough. Well, come along, gentlemen, it looks like services will be starting soon."

When they walked in, the priest was already stepping to the altar, causing them all to fidget and straighten themselves like small children in front of their new, strict teacher.

"Samual, for goodness sakes, take your mask off."

He turned, and saw that Alastair's mask had been removed, and was now being held under his arm. It seemed like an awful idea to him, considering all the possibly infected people around him, why, just a moment ago a man was in the midst of a coughing fit, but he wasn't about to protest the act of taking off the hot stuffy thing, so he obeyed.

As soon as he did so, the priest opened a book, most likely The Bible, and began to speak, "Omnis civitas nostra, ad membra benedixitqua..."

Samual raised an eyebrow, "What language is this in?" He whispered.

"Latin," Alastair responded with a firm hiss, "now be quiet."

"But I don't speak Latin."

"Neither do I, but that doesn't matter, we are here for God."

"Yeah but-"

"Samual, enough."

Throughout the ceremony, he only ever pretended to pay attention, and hardly even bothered to look like he was praying. Occasionally, he would open his eyes to stare at Alastair. Church was an odd place to see him in, during the social aspect, he often seemed more bitter than usual, and at other times, the prayers, for example, far less, though he was completely devoted, there was no question to that. He attended the service full of love for both God, and those around him, and it showed. It was when you could see why he chose such a dangerous, soul sucking life. Samual then noticed, for the first since he had met him, even if it was only a few short days ago, he seemed fully content. How odd it was that he chose a career, knowing perfectly well it would destroy his love of the world, but doing it all the same because of how deeply he loved the world.

What used to be a boring inconvenience had now become an impossible physical burden, but Samual dared himself not to plop to the ground, perhaps just so he could tell his friends back in The Twenty-First Century that he did it, and it worked, he was able to not sit down until they were safely outside.

Taking pity on him, Alastair let him sit on the steps of the building, and offered to get small meat pies for both of them from the church workers, who prepared meals for everyone. It actually tasted quite good, at least compared to the food Alastair made, and the thought summoned a string of 'food at home jokes,' that various people had told him, including, but certainly not limited to, both his parents. He decided to try one, granted, with a few alterations so it could be understood.

"Hey, you know when you're a kid, and you want to go get food for everyone, and your mom says, 'but we have food at home.'"

"Yes, I believe that has happened to all of us."

He looked down at his pie, "yeah, the best thing about church, no food at home."

For a moment, he feared that he had been sacreligious, but Alastair was able to crack a smile, and admit a small laugh, so faint it sounded more like a sniff.

Afterwards, they walked to a market near the castle, and began walking from stall to stall, collecting various meats and dairy to go with their breakfasts and dinners, ending at the entrance to a small shop, the inside of which was covered in drying and jarred herbs, both on shelves and hanging from the ceiling, making the room smell like a garden.

"Is this where you get those herbs?" Asked Samual.

"Well, I grow some of them, but for the majority, yes, it is."

The man behind the counter gave them an odd look, "haven't you ever been to an apothecary, lad?"

"It's complicated," Alastair interjected, placing a tiny burlap bag on the table, "now, I need some peppermint and juniper berries."

The man grunted and turned to the shelf behind him, "is he your apprentice?"

"I have already told you, it's complicated."

He handed him back the bag, "alright, I'm just saying that I know all the physicians around here, and he ain't one."

Alastair thanked him and stepped out of the shop, "I suspected this, people around here don't like new people too much, I'm afraid, they think they're responsible for the plague," he smiled, "don't worry, they'll settle down soon enough.