The Perfectionist

Chapter Nine

''Brother Wolfgang.''
''Reverend father.''
''What is it that brings you to me?''
''I've just received news that my father is dead, reverend father.''
''Oh,'' Brother Alphonse devoutly crossed himself, and expressed his condolences, ''I expect he was the subject of your nightly prayers?''
''Correct, reverend father.''
''Then I deduce that you are requesting me for leave?''
Brother Wolfgang nodded slightly, and then kept his head lowered.
''Then it is quickly accepted, Brother Wolfgang, I cannot forbid you from seeing your father. I'll call up a cab immediately, and you must invite an escort to go with you.''
''I do not wish to go by cab, reverend father.'' he raised his head.
''No?''
''I shan't take the easy road and allow myself to be indulged, reverend father. Not now. I am thinking to journey on foot.''
''From here to Wurzburg on foot?''
''Yes.''
''Here to Wurzburg- on foot. As you will. But it is unnecessary to take suffering upon yourself at such a moment, you know. There is enough suffering expressed on your face. But go all the same, walk all the same, and bring an escort with you.''
''But,'' Brother Wolfgang asked, ''When the said escort returns to the monastery, who will escort him?''
''It would not have been a problem, Brother Wolfgang, if you would have taken a cab. But all is well, take with you two escorts. I permit you and the other two to miss the masses. The Spirit go with you, Brother Wolfgang!''
Brother Wolfgang respectfully bowed and slowly walked out of the office.

The news of his father's death that he had received that morning had brought a shock unto Brother Wolfgang, the elderly monk who had spent nights praying alongside Dieter. While walking through one of the corridors of the main building, he was just beginning to think of who to bring with him, when he had crossed the library doors, and happened to look inside by chance. Stepping aside to let one monk pass the doors, he quickly contemplated, and went and issued himself in. The first monk went straight to a back shelf and thus disappeared, but Brother Wolfgang was looking for another, and, rapidly scanning the large room with his sorrowful eyes, he finally caught sight of Brother Pieter seated on one of the tables, calmly reading. He went up to him.
''Brother Wolfgang!'' exclaimed Brother Pieter, looking up at him from his spectacles.
''Brother Pieter,'' he began rapidly, ''If you could find it in yourself to forgive me for the insolence of what I am about to say, it would be very much appreciated by myself. My father, you know him, is dead (Brother Pieter gasped slightly), and I must attend his funeral. I am to journey there by foot, and therefore I need an escort to accompany me, and, as it were, that escort is in need of an escort himself... since the journey is to be taken by foot, as I have said. I was just thinking of who to bring with me, when I happened to stumble across the library, and I remembered you and your friendship, and our good years together, therefore I implore you to be my escort, if only you would accept, of course.''
''Yes, I will accompany you, of course,'' Brother Pieter was frowning, ''Herr Holzknecht has died, then. What a man he was.''
''I received the letter this morning,'' Brother Wolfgang cried, ''After the morning mass. I've been anticipating it already for some time past, but its happening was inevitably a shock.''
''He was a good man, the best of men (he sighed saying this). But I do not know, Wolfang, who to take with us.''
''We can take Brother Dieter,'' a smile shone from Brother Wolfgang's grey beard, ''Good lad.''
''Brother Dieter!'' Brother Pieter called, leaning on the back of his chair and crossing his arms.
Dieter appeared from the shelves holding an open book in both his hands.
''Come hither, dear. You remember Brother Wolfgang, of course.''
''Brother Wolfgang.'' Dieter nodded, and he put his book on a nearby table.
''Good man, we are to escort Brother Wolfgang to Wurzburg, he is to attend his father's funeral. However he proposes to go on foot, and we are ascertaining if you would accept to go with us.''
His answer being given in the positive, Brother Wolfgang told his two companions that he would await them before the monastery gates. After about half an hour, Brother Pieter locked the front gates, and turning to his companions, they all donned their hoods, and set off to Wurzburg. Once the monastery's two onion domes had escaped their view, they met an empty, narrow road, surrounded by thick forests on both its sides. The fog had cleared in the early morning, and they were instead enshrouded in a damp, cool air, exposing the flowers scattered about on the sides of the road. Brother Wolfgang was doing poorly, and both his companions were able to sense the brooding, sorrowful aura he radiated all around him. By-and-by he would sigh deeply, and, directing his sad eyes towards the ground beneath him, he would grumble some imperceptible phrase of sorrow under his breath.
''My father was an accomplished man, you know.'' he started quietly, attempting to distract himself with talk, ''He had served as an engineer in Moscow for three years.''
''Had he now?'' Brother Pieter returned.
''Indeed, and there he met my mother. Both Germans, mind. I have not a drop of Russian blood in me, rather I am a German through-and-through. But my father adored the Motherland, he loved it so, he told me he would never forget Russia or the Tsar in all his lifetime.''
''Well, i've put it upon myself to forget both of them, and yet our brothers keep reminding us of them! At least I am at peace with my forgetfulness of the French, and Brother Dieter here is so good so as not to remind me of them.''
''I say! And do you hold the same views of our Kaiser, Brother Pieter?''
''I'm afraid I do.''
''Ha-ha-ha-ha! You are very brave. Well, Brother Dieter, I feel that I need to further dwell on my history, as Brother Pieter knows it all already, while you do not yet. Well, they returned to Wurzburg in the 60's, and had myself, my younger brother, and my sister, though my sister had not survived, she had passed away one week after her birth. Of pneumonia, that is. My father prayed for her for years. Inge was her name, and my brother George. He is a reverend. I received the letter from him this morning- from George, that is.''
''Let us see you cheerful, Brother Wolfgang! It pains me to see you in so sad a state. Pray tell us a story from your childhood, we know you are always fond of your childhood.''