Free Everyday Ghosts by James Morrison

1
    Pete heard it before he saw it, the quick whoosh of the stick through the air, and the thwack-thwack-thwack as it hit Neb’s backside. In the clearing, Louis raised the stick over his head to strike again, but Pete was too fast and snatched it away. Louis stood with his mouth gaping and his arm stretched out. Pete wanted to give his open palm a clean smack, but he snapped the stick in two and dropped it to the ground. Neb let out a snuffle and dug a hoof into the dirt, kicking up dust.
    â€œIf I ever catch you doing that again,” Pete began, but he knew as soon as he said them that his words were not wellchosen, so he stopped. He took Neb’s rope and led her up the hill.
    â€œBrother Louis told me what happened,” said Father Gabriel when he called Pete in the next morning. “I know there are two sides to every story.”
    There were more than that, but when Pete spoke to Father Gabriel, their talks did split in two, what Pete answered and what was left unspoken. “He beat Neb again,” said Pete.
    â€œThe mule was not hauling,” said Father Gabriel. “Brother Louis nudged it to encourage its cooperation.”
    â€œNeb’s a donkey,” said Pete. “He beat her with a stick.”
    Father Gabriel put his hands together, touching at the fingertips, and tooka breath. “Let man have power over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle. That is Genesis. You may have come across it in your reading. Notice that the cattle are singled out for special mention.”
    Pete gazed at the floor. He had washed it three days ago but it was dirty. Neb was not cattle.
    â€œBrother Peter, you are a good worker,” Father Gabriel went on. “Maybe you have a calling. Maybe not. Brother Louis has taken vows. You have taken none. You will need to choose. We all have our choices. You have been with us for two years now. You must remember that simply in being here, you have taken a vow of obedience. Our lives here are a great mystery. We all add up to somethingand nobody knows what it is, but it is greater than any one of us by ourselves.” He yawned. His nose looked like a strawberry. It was bright red with pores like seeds. “Nobody knows where the journey ends,” he mumbled. He ordered Pete to do three Hail Marys. He rubbed his hands together and then he waved Pete away.
    Were you called here? That was the question Pete asked himself when he was alone in his cell. Through his window was a view of the valley. Every day it was drenched in sunlight. The open sky spread out above. At night it filled with stars. To see the world’s beauty all he had to do was look. If he leaned out, he could glimpse the roof of the barnwhere Neb was, and the gate beyond. But the window was not his, nothing belonged to him. That was as it should be. Other valleys lay in shadow.

2
    For a long time Father Gabriel’s drinking had given his sermons a lighthearted air. He read from the Book of Psalms or the Song of Songs and giggled and blushed from time to time. Every so often came a dry day, when his manner turned gruff and he took to Leviticus. He seemed to find it calming. So much of that book was plain common sense. Who needed to be told to wash the blood out of clothes, or that something became unclean if a dead body fell on it? What sort of creature would desire most of what was forbidden anyway? Only one line warned against strong wine. True, that was on pain of death, but there were whole pages against eating animalfat. Besides, drink was only frowned on in the meeting tent, the book said. So the path to virtue seemed easy to tread. Keep your things clear of falling corpses and stay out of tents. With such logic, it was no time at all before Father Gabriel’s good humor was restored.
    But things were changing. The bad days came more often. Even after a nip or two, Father Gabriel’s mood was still dark. It was hard to tell the difference between when