It's Hard To Be Holy

EP. 57: Chapter VIII

Coarse and Offensive Language. Reader Discretion Advised.

The Day of Understanding did not wait long to show itself, coming exactly a week after The Day of Reckoning, and The Banishment of the Creature Alan—but what a week it had been! Bud Carr was alive and well. He smiled, he sang, he laughed and reveled in the joy of the world around him. Everything seemed bold and brilliant, clear and lucid. For the first time since boyhood, he was free to be happy. It was like waking from a long nightmare. Every word Alan ever spoke had been barbed and cutting, every sentiment unkind; every action venal—But now...now! Alfonso Ignatius (the Second), whole again, could truly be better.

That is, if he could survive the next morning, where his change in attitude did not go unnoticed:

'What the hell's gotten into ya?' Niamh shouted across the kitchen table. 'Why'ya smilin' like an idiot?'

The occupants around the table looked up. Vera was annoyed. She had been in such a good mood for months, demonstratively cheerful and always beaming, but never once had it been mentioned. On the other hand, Colin, porridge splattered in the thicket of his beard, joined his daughter in looking concerned. 'I was wonderin' the same thing. Ya think maybe he's got the syphilis?'

'Jesus, ya don't think—'

'I don't have syphilis, Pa—'

'How'd ya know? BB was just tellin' me the other night that it's makin' a comeback in your generation. Drugs and all that—'

'Lord have mercy!' ululated Niamh, slamming her mug of coffee down on the table. 'Alfonso Ignatius Carr, your high!'

'What? No, I'm—'

'Drugs! Drugs! In my house!'

'No, Ma! I'm—'

'How could ya?! I didn't raise ya to be like that. Let me see your eyes!' She flew at him and, long nails extended, began to claw at her son's face.

'I'm—no!—MA! GET OFF!' Bud shouted, trying to fend off the pincers scratching at his corneas. Finally free at last only to be blinded by his mother, what an irony that would be. 'I'M NOT HIGH!'

Niamh ignored the objections and twisted his head around for Colin to inspect, no thought for the fact that necks don't rotate 360 degrees. 'They look red. Da! Look! They're red, aren't they?'

'Certainly look red to me—'

'That's 'cause she just stuck her fingers in my eye—'

'I knew somethin' was off with ya the moment ya came out whistlin'!'

'What's wrong with whistlin'?!'

'Sure, isn't that another sign of the syphilis!'

'WHISTLIN' ISN'T A FUCKIN' SIGN OF SYPHILIS, PA—' WHACK!  '—OW!'

'Don't curse at your grandfather! Drugs and disease, in my house! What will I tell the neighbors?!'

'There's nothin' to tell the neighbors!'

'How could ya, Alfonso Ignatius?! How could you do this to your own mother?!'

'ALL I DID WAS SMILE AND—' WHACK! '—OWWW!'

'DO NOT RAISE YOUR VOICE AT ME! I AM YOUR MOTHER! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!'

'Ah, but that's another sign,' simpered Colin, enjoying himself. 'Sudden onset of stupidity.'

'To be fair,' said Vera, happy enough to join the pile on, 'drugs do that too.'

'Shut up!' Bud snapped back, but he wouldn't meet his sister's eyes. Surely, he held no ill-will towards her...no...no...Good for her that she's...As shocking things go...Vera's...Vera's...predilections...if it was going to be anyone in the family, Alanna maybe—