Sin Blue Excerpt -- Part Two
About half a dozen of my hair ties have migrated from the sink top in my bathroom, through my lounge, down the corridor past three other rooms and out into the kitchen where they are now lying in the bottom of the dogs’ water dish.
What possesses a six month old kitten to carry hair ties down a corridor, one by one, and place them in a large bowl of water? I can’t even begin to fathom.
Anyway, here’s some more Sin Blue.
I felt like I needed to update with SOMETHING and this was sitting on my desktop. Grin.
Part One (link for those who missed it)
He blinked back tears.
There were no sounds of pursuit. No angry footsteps on the stone floors. Everything was quiet.
“Jinn?” brother Dafa called softly from his cot across the aisle. There was the rustle of skin again fabric as brother Dafa crawled from his pallet and tip-toed over the stone floor to crouch beside him.
“I killed someone,” Jinn whispered.
“No.” Brother Dafa yawned, “Don’t be silly.”
“I did. A man touched me and he died.”
Brother Dafa’s mouth closed with a snap. There was a drawn out silence, then Brother Dafa shook his head. “It’s not your fault. You are what you are. Some fish have poisonous flesh, but death is the error of the man who eats it.”
“He cut off his hand,” Jinn said.
“Fool. What is that smell on you?”
“Ah, oh. It is dejecta from the dying man.”
“Come and wash before you stink up your blanket and have to wash that too.”
Jinn crawled off his pallet and waited, while brother Dafa got his own blanket to pull around his naked shoulders. Then he followed Jinn down the aisle and out into the little courtyard that was Jinn’s own. It was not large, and the stone walls around it were high--so high he could not see the tops of the trees beyond the abbey, only a square of sky, currently black and speckled with stars.
Against the wall Jinn had rows of pots plants: small fruits, root vegetables, herbs and even flowers. He had been dejected when he first realize the others would eat nothing he had grown, but he enjoyed nurturing them anyway.
His wash tub was also here, sitting under the stars, wash rag hanging over the side. There would be frost that night, but Jinn dipped the cloth in the water and rubbed the ice-cold water over his chest and stomach without hesitation.
He gasped at the chill and felt his skin bristle with goose-pimples.
“Ah,” he said. “So cold.”
“It’s refreshing,” Brother Dafa said, shivering under his blanket.
Even in the dim light of the stars and moon, the sins on Jinn’s hairless skin stood out. He was like a great spotted cat, only his marks were irregular and patternless.
“Where is the new one?” Brother Dafa asked.
Jinn showed him the mark on his palm. “He did a lot of bad things.”
“Who was it?”
“A general. He smelt so bad I was nearly sick. Is all the world really so full of sin?”
Brother Dafa nodded. “I came here so I wouldn’t be drafted. There is war everywhere and when Eacher comes, he eats whole villages. You should be glad you are here, Jinn, and not out there. The world is a horrible place.”
Jinn looked up at the stars. “I don’t remember anything outside the abbey. All I see is that little slice of sky.”
“It is a peaceful slice of sky,” Brother Dafa said. “Come now, you are clean. Get into your bed or you’ll have no sleep before dawn.”
Jinn did as he was told, he was familiar with obedience.
#
It was after breakfast and Jinn was sitting in his courtyard; the sky was a shimmering blue overhead. Sometimes clouds would pass over, white and cheery in the autumn sunlight.
This was how Jinn spent most of his days, watching the square of sky in the sun. He’d watered his plants already, and checked them over for bugs, so now there was nothing to do but wait for lunch.
Elsewhere in the abbey the monks were busy. They chopped wood, prayed, tended the kitchen gardens, cooked, cleaned, mended, greeted travellers and attended the holy rites. No one came to see Jinn, and Jinn was not permitted to wander the abbey. If he needed to go to the privy, he could go there and back, but no where else.
Some days he would count every stone in the courtyard. He would count the birds that flew overhead. He would count the little brown lizards that ventured from the cracks in the stone to sunbake. He would count the leaves and petals on his plants.
The rest of the day, he simply daydreamed about what it must be like outside the abbey, and who his mother was, and what it would be like to be someone else. Someone who did something interesting, like bake bread or mop floors.
Jinn had always wanted to mop the floor. It looked like so much fun, with the water and bubbles. Almost like making a mess, but not really. He wasn’t allowed a mop though, so the rain washed his courtyard.
What he didn’t do, was think about his late night summons to the cathedral, or the people who came, or the sins they told him about.
Jinn decided to go to the privy. He didn't really need to go, he just liked to look around, take his time strolling down the corridors and see what the others were doing.
They wouldn’t talk to him--Brother Dafa was one of few who did--but Jinn liked to look. He especially liked to pass the kitchens and smell the fresh meat or rising dough. He would have been happy to just stand in a doorway, any doorway, for a single day.
Jinn entered the cool corridor, trailing his fingers against the wall as he walked. Today he would be bold and take the long way around, the way that would lead him past the door to the gardens so he could look out at the vegetables and herbs. The pumpkins would be ripe and fat soon and there would be raspberries and nuts.
All the food they ate at the abbey was seasonal and Jinn liked autumn best because they ate so many pies. He was so distracted by thoughts of pies and pumpkins, he almost passed the door to the wine cellar without thought, but the echo of voices drew him up short.
“--General died in the night.”
“And where his sins cleansed?”
“Those he confessed to. Who knows what hell men take with them to the afterlife for shame?”
“Who indeed...”
He recognised Father Ara’s deep bass and then the voice of a man he did not know. He hesitated, not wanting to be caught taking the long route to the privy, but curious about any stranger who was given leave to pass beyond the church. The abbey was a place for the monks to live in peace away from outsiders. So who was this Father Ara had taken into the wine cellar?
He felt his way down the stairs into the darkness, picking out the faint glow of candlelight down one of the many winding tunnels.
“The issue is still the Arqum,” Father Ara said.
Jinn drew a sharp breath and held it. They were talking about him. He ventured a quick look around the corner at the stranger. It was a man. Tall and wearing red robes edged in gold. Jinn had seen no others like them.
“You do not want him here,” the stranger in red said. It was not a question.
“No one wants him here! Before he came, this abbey was quiet. A place for men wishing to devote themselves to Ny’os. For sixteen years he’s haunted our corridors. He is the embodiment of sin. He is the most unholy thing in creation--his touch alone can kill--and you keep him here! In a church!”
“Does the boy not have friends here? Your monks have raised him since he was a new-born.”
“One man will speak to him. The others fear him. They despise him. They have nightmares about him. I myself can barely stand the sight of him. The brothers are threatening to leave since he killed that soldier.”
“What would you have me do?” the stranger asked archly. “The Arqum is a precious gift from Ny’os. He can shed men of their sin. Where else is there for him?”
“Take him to the city. Just get him out of here by the end of the month.”
Jinn drew a sharp breath, then hurried back up the stairs, forgetting all about the privy and looking at the gardens. He ran back to his own courtyard and all in a rush he tipped over his washtub. The water gushed across the cobbles gushing against the door. He pulled the tub over onto its side, then crouched down, catching the lip and lowering it over himself.
He huddled in the cold, wet darkness, the water pooling around his feet, the damp wood pressed to his shoulders and the back of his head. He could hear his own breath, coming in short pants.
They couldn’t find him here, he thought. They couldn’t send him away if they couldn’t find him.
#
“Jinn! Jinn!”
Jinn had heard the bell for evening meal a half hour before, and Brother Dafa had been back and forth calling for him several times since. Jinn was silent, sitting under the washtub in damp clothes, but he was quite warm for his body heat had filled the space well.
He did not intend to answer, but suddenly the washtub was hoist aside and Brother Dafa was looking down at him in bewilderment.
“Jinn! What in the saints are you doing under there!? I’ve been calling you for saints’ only know how long!” Brother Dafa must have been very cross to blaspheme so ineloquently twice.
Jinn blinked, the evening air chilling him. “Sorry.”
“Sorry?! Jinn, half the brothers are tearing apart the abbey looking for you!”
“They’re going to send me away.”
“What?”
“They’re going to send me away.”
“Who?”
“Father Ara and the man in red robes.”
Brother Dafa frowned, narrowing his eyes. “That mage? He’s from the army, Jinn. He’s a magic user. They’re priests of Ny’os.”
“Him, then,” Jinn said. “Father Ara made him promise to take me away to the city. He said everyone here hates me and they don’t want me here because I killed that solider.”
“Jinn,” he said, crouching down. “That solider cut off his own arm. That’s what killed him. It’s not your fault.”
“That won’t change anything if everyone here is afraid of me.”
“Come. They’re all cowards, they can no more think for themselves than bugs. I’ll prove them wrong at dinner. You’ll see.”
Jinn clambered to his feet and followed Brother Dafa from the courtyard. He hung his head as they traipsed through the corridors, afraid to meet the eyes of those who had been searching for him. Afraid he would see they were disappointed he had been found.
“I found him,” Brother Dafa said, and Jinn glanced up to find he was talking to Father Ara.
“Where was he?”
“Under his wash tub. He never left his courtyard.”
Father Ara didn’t ask anything else, like why Jinn was under there in the first place, he just caught the attention of the nearest monk and told him to alert everyone else.
Jinn felt even more ashamed that they’d all been held up on his behalf. He glanced at Father Ara as he passed him and saw the mistrust and suspicion in his eyes. He wondered if it had always been there.
Slowly the monks filtered into the frater, taking their places at the tables along the long wooden benches. Jinn sat at the end, Brother Dafa on his left. It had always been so, since he’d been old enough to feed himself.
Now he knew why.
As always, there were prayers to Ny’os, then they ate in silence. Jinn only picked at his food, barely tasting it. No one looked at him, but he could hear imaginary discussions about him in his head, all taking place while he was idle in his courtyard.
When the plates were being cleared, Brother Dafa stood up.
“Brothers,” he said. “For sixteen years we have had Jinn in our midst. He came here an infant, still bloody from his birth, and together we raised him. We fed him, we bathed him, we clothed him, we watched him grow. To those who come to his temple seeking him, he is Arqum, but to us, he is Jinn.
“You are all so eager to turn from one we have known all of his short life, but what does that make you in the eyes of Ny’os? We are expected to know compassion for all people: sinners, saints and the sick--so long as they follow Ny’os path. Your fears, the fears of the people who come from outside, they are all unfounded. Jinn can not do us harm. I will prove it.”
With deliberation, Brother Dafa placed his hand on Jinn’s bare head--but Jinn could feel his fingers were trembling. From all around the table there were muted gasps of horror and Father Ara rose to his feet with a look of blustery rage.
“Enough!” Father Ara said, “Brother Dafa you have stained yourself. Leave this table. Jinn, sit down!”
Jinn, who had risen to go with Brother Dafa, sunk back into his place. Brother Dafa narrowed his eyes, but stalked away down the corridor toward the dorms.
Around the room, murmurs rose and fell, and the brother closest to Jinn slid further down the bench away from him.
“Silence,” Father Ara said. “We will pray.”
#
When they were permitted to leave the table, Jinn rushed to the dorm, but Brother Dafa was not there. Forgetting the rules, and his fear of breaking them, Jinn began to search, looking first in the kitchens, then heading to the cloisters, hoping Brother Dafa was in prayer there.
It was so quiet as Jinn tip-toed down the isle, the alcoves muted in the shadow of flickering candles, he was certain he would hear a mouse’s heartbeat. But it was a gurgle and a chuckle and the dry scrape of limbs thrashing against stone that echoed down the empty corridor.
Jinn broken into a run, treading on his robe and tripping, but still scrambling forward, clawing his way toward the sound.
Brother Dafa was prone, his eyes bloodshot, brown mucus bubbling at his mouth and nose with every wet breath. His right hand was black and putrid already. He spasmed, feet scraping the wall, eyes rolling back to look at Jinn--almost begging.
“Brother!” Jinn was too afraid to touch him and his hands hovered, outstretched but useless.
“Jinn,” the name came out with bubbles of mucus that grew and popped on Brother Dafa’s lips. “I mocked the teaching of Ny’os and I am punished.”