With and Without, Within and Without

by Euan McAllen

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You think he’s left the hospital?’

  ‘I don’t know. But he must never leave that room, understood.’

  ‘Understood. And please don’t address me like I’m one of your monks or one of your policemen.’

  ‘Sorry. Force of habit. And thank you. Thank you for dealing with him so promptly.’

  ‘I moved him immediately my brother requested it.’

  ‘I know, and thank you. I knew I could count on you.’

  Reconciliation, thought Adolphinus. Reconciliation. Reconciliation, thought Miuccia. It has to be worth something.

  ‘I’ll do a thorough check. See if it was possible he got out. I’ll report back.’

  Report back? thought Adolphinus. So she wants to see me again. Very well. With that, both stalled: strangely neither wanted to leave the room; both wanted to hang on to the moment of privacy.

  ‘So, time for a chat then?’ asked Miuccia. ‘We have lots to talk about, don’t we?’

  ‘Yes, we do, but I’m sorry, not now. I need to see him, now. Later, perhaps?’

  That did not go down well, he could tell.

  ‘Follow me,’ she said and set off again at high speed.

  Miuccia, Miuccia, thought Adolphinus as he struggled even harder this time to keep up. It doesn’t need to be this hard, this painful.

  She led him to a room where her guard sat directly in front of the door as if frozen to his seat; his thoughts frozen; a slight tremor in his hand. Adolphinus knew him: the old man had once been a monk, and Adolphinus had expelled him for gross indecency with a novice. It had been his first significant act as Chief Monk, and his hardest – after which he had never looked back.

  ‘Is he still here?’

  ‘He has nowhere else to go.’

  ‘Tell him to move aside.’

  Miuccia clicked her fingers, and her slave looked up, like a dog in anticipation of her next instruction, and looking forward to it. Serving her was his life.

  ‘You heard our chief. Go. Find something useful to do.’

  ‘Miuccia, I want to be alone with him. So please, you go too.’

  That did not go down well: Adolphinus saw ruffled feathers again, and her temperature rise.

  ‘I’m sorry. That’s the way it is. He was once a novice. I have to talk to him in confidence.’

  Miuccia did not respond. Instead, she waved down his words and stomped off – or at least that was how she made it look. She got no further than round the corner and out of sight. No secrets this time, she told herself. Your secrets are my secrets this time, Adolphinus. I won’t be caught out again. You might be the big chief, but you can’t touch me.

  Adolphinus peered into the room; a room kitted out only with a bed, chair, and curtains. And in the bed, there was the boy, Timothy, asleep presumably. But not such a boy now. He had put on the years, many years. Adolphinus crept into the room, careful to make no sound. In parallel, Miuccia, unseen, crept up close to the door. Like her brother, she liked to spy. She loved to lick a secret.

  Adolphinus looked down at the ex-novice, the orphan from The Village, and a liability. The boy looked ragged, run-down. He was thin in the face – his baby face gone for good. The boy did look sick. Was he asleep? Adolphinus kicked the bed to find out.

  Mozak opened his eyes, slowly at first, as he dragged himself out of his stupor; then he was suddenly awake when he saw a strange man staring down at him; a strange man dressed in a long dark cloak. A monk? The face reminded him of Fargo. Another mad monk? This was no doctor.

  ‘Fuck.’

  ‘Don’t swear at me, Timothy. You know better than that.’

  Mozak didn’t of course, and would happily shout fuck, fuck, fuck if it would make this man go away.

  ‘You shouldn’t be in here. I have the plague. Nurse!’

  ‘Shut up, Timothy.’

  My name is Mozak; he wanted to say. I am a prince! he wanted to shout. I am the Prince Regent! He wanted to scream. But he knew he could not not if he was to survive this growing nightmare.

  ‘And welcome back.’

  This man knows me – him. Shit. I have to say something. Say as little as possible. Remember you are Timothy, once a novice monk in this place, this Outside.

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘And how have you been?’

  ‘Good. Until now.’

  ‘Obviously.’

  Adolphinus finally sat down to rest his aching feet – Miuccia had swept him off his feet – and tried to put on a friendly face. But he still appeared like the enemy.

  ‘So you are surprised to see me?’

  ‘See you?’

  Do I answer yes or no? Thought Mozak. Yes. ‘Yes.’

  ‘You are sick they tell me.’

  ‘Sick, yes. I have the plague. Like I said, I have the plague. They had to put me in here.’

  ‘In isolation, they call it.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Quite right. And you haven’t left the hospital since you arrived?’

  ‘No.’

  The man did not look like he believed him. He just stared down, like he was trying to drill a hole into him. Mozak wanted him to leave but sensed he was not going to until he got something. But Mozak had nothing to give.

  ‘So, talk to me.’

  Small talk was done: the interrogation proper had now begun.

  ‘About what?’

  Mozak was now sweating, badly, and his face was flushed red. He really did look sick.

  ‘What do you think, boy?’

  Silence. Was the boy refusing to talk? ‘I am the Chief Monk; you will talk to me.’

  ‘Don’t make this difficult. At the moment I’m being nice to you, so I suggest you cooperate. I don’t have to be nice; you know that.’

  Mozak began to panic and thought hard to recall the storyline his brother had fed him.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘What happened in there. That’s what I want to know, boy.’

  ‘In The Maze?’

  ‘Of course, in The Maze! What else are we talking about?’

  ‘In The Maze.’ Mozak stared up at the ceiling. ‘Well, I reached The Village, where I was born.’

  Silence again.

  ‘And?’

  ‘That’s it.’

  ‘That’s it? What happened to the others?’

  ‘The others?’

  ‘Yes, the others! Timothy don’t insult my intelligence. You were a troublemaker, foolhardy, but never stupid. So stop being difficult. Tell me exactly what happened. Or would you like to spend some time with Ingel?’

  Ingel. Mozak recognised the name. The chief of police, Timothy had said, and to be avoided at all cost. A really nasty man that Ingel, he had warned. And this man had just called him a troublemaker, foolhardy. That was his brother? That was him.

  ‘No, not him.’

  ‘So speak, and quickly. I do not want to stay here any longer than I have to. I do not want to catch whatever it is you have.’

  ‘I stayed in The Village, my home. The others went on. They wanted to get back home.’

  ‘Home to The Castle?’

  ‘Yes, The Castle.’

  So this man knows of the castle, thought Mozak. If he knew he was talking to its ruler he might show me some respect.

  ‘And what happened to them?’

  ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. They never came back, back to The Village.’

  ‘So you never saw Gregory again?’

  ‘No. He went on to the castle.’

  ‘Never?’

  ‘No. Never.’

  Adolphinus did not know whether to believe him or not: but from what he remembered, Ti
mothy had never been one to lie; break the rules, yes, but never lie about his infringements and misdemeanours. And for now, his facts tallied: Timothy was not his sole source of information. He got up to leave. Mozak watched him like a mouse; frozen, shivering; watching a cat, and hoping not to be spotted.

  ‘One more thing.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Did you ever come across a man who went by the name of Fargo?’

  ‘Fargo? No.’

  Adolphinus knew he was lying. ‘Very well. Get better soon. We may speak again.’

  And with that, Adolphinus left the room. The visit had been a waste of time, and he had had to endure time with Miuccia. Then there she was again, heading towards him; homing in, like a wolf on the hunt. She jumped in first.

  ‘So. How did it go?’

  ‘A waste of time.’

  ‘He was once a novice?’

  ‘Once. Yes. Sorry, but I have to go now. No time to talk.’

  ‘I understand. You have your guest, your very important guest.’

  ‘That’s correct.’

  ‘Rest assured I’ll check up on possible lapses – but I’m sure there were none. I know it’s very important to you.’

  She knew? Thought Adolphinus. What had Ingel told her?

  ‘Thank you. Much appreciated.’

  ‘Can I come and see you? I don’t want to have to talk to my brother.’

  That he could understand.

  ‘Yes. Come and see me. Perhaps it is time to talk. Clear the air?’

  Perhaps he could talk to her. He did not want to talk to Ingel.

  Satisfied, Miuccia led him back to the main entrance where she found the B&B man on watch. He liked to watch what everyone else was up to. He liked to see who was coming in and who was leaving. For him, it was all about input versus output. He looked at her and made a point of ignoring her. She did exactly the same, only better.

  ‘Let me know if the hurt comes back,’ she said, intending to be clearly overheard by the prying B&B man.

  ‘What?’

  ‘If it still hurts, I’ll try something stronger.’

  One of her silly games, thought Adolphinus. Very well, I can play your silly game.

  ‘Yes. It’s gone for now, but if it hurts again, I’ll call you. Thank you and goodbye.’

  ‘Goodbye.’

  Adolphinus left, ignoring the fact that Miuccia was waving at him. She was not one for waving at people, thought the B&B man. But then he was the Chief Monk.

  ***

  Just as Mozak was about to lapse into another fitful sleep, he was shaken awake. It was that nurse again, and she was staring at the time, as if trying to calculate how much time he had left before expiring. Miuccia was in the room. Both she and the patient had one thing in common: both were giddy; their heads were spinning for the universe had shifted. Castle? Village? Fargo still on the loose? She was holding a cup, a warm brew. It was one of her ‘nice drinks’ again, this time intended to drug him, lower his defences – what was left of them.

  ‘Here. You need this. It’s been a traumatic time. I should never have let him talk to you. Here sip. Slowly.’

  Mozak pulled himself up and began to sip slowly from the cup. The taste was pleasant, sweet, and infectious. The drink was addictive. It began to overpower. It began to creep up on him, and dilute his thoughts. And he surrendered to it – as he surrendered to her.

  ‘Be patient, my child. I will cure you of your plague. Trust me. I will not let you down. And I will protect you from the likes of him.’

  Mozak liked being called ‘child’: it made him feel good again. A child had no responsibilities, no weight to bear; no expectations beyond tomorrow; no dangerous enemies; no confusing, complicated women. A child just had a family; sometimes perfect, sometimes not. Mozak thought of his mother, his mad mother, his failed mother. He wanted this woman here to be a better mother. He needed a hug, but she refused his request.

  ‘I do not hug patients,’ she said. ‘Tell me, who are you? Who are you really? You can tell me.’

  ‘My name is Mozak.’

  ‘So you are not Timothy.’

  ‘No, I am Prince Mozak.’

  ‘From this village place?’

  ‘No, The Castle.’

  ‘This Timothy, he is your twin?’

  ‘Yes. But he’s no prince. There is only one prince, and that’s me.’

  ‘This castle, it is inside the maze?’

  ‘Outside. The Castle, my castle, my kingdom is outside The Maze.’

  ‘There is a king?’

  ‘No, no king. I rule the kingdom. I am the Prince Regent.’

  ‘So tell me, why are you here, prince?’

  ‘What do you mean, why am I here?’

  ‘What do I mean?’ She stared him down bluntly. ‘I mean, why are you here?’

  ‘To get better. My brother said this place would make me better.’

  ‘This place. This place is called a hospital. And?’

  ‘And what? Nothing.’

  Mozak was exhausted and did not want to talk anymore. He did not want to stay awake anymore. The nurse said something else, but he did not hear her: he was falling into another deep sleep. Satisfied – for now – Miuccia let him be and left the room.

  She made a visit to the hospital chapel, to reflect, and this time to pray for Adolphinus’ soul rather than hers. There she saw her favourite nurse kneeling in prayer like every good nurse should. From the vantage point of her spyhole, she had watched the nurse undress in the nurses’ dormitory: she had seen half her body, and now she wanted to see the rest. The unrequited wish was constantly on her mind. She could not shake it off, just as she could not shake off this nurse. She knelt down beside her new infatuation, giving her fleeting recognition despite the fact she wanted much more. The nurse spoke, concerned for her.

  ‘You look poorly, sister. Has one of your patients died?’

  ‘No.’

  That ended their conversation for today.

  ***

  Late at night, a despondent Adolphinus received a visit from Miuccia. A professional visit, she explained to the senior monk who met her and escorted her in silence through the monastery to the private chambers of his Chief Monk. (It was as if he did not want to talk to her.) When Adolphinus invited her in, Miuccia swooped in, eagle-eyed, and began to prowl the territory; like a cat looking for a chance, or a way out. Suddenly the years fell away: he was put on alert; he sensed danger, but also the thrill of possibilities.

  ‘So these are your private quarters. Grand. Where is the bedroom?’

  ‘Through there.’

  ‘Is it fun sleeping alone?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘No. It’s not.’ Miuccia paused for effect, for applause, but got none. ‘I came as promised.’

  ‘You did not have to come.’

  ‘I wanted to come. I was worried for you.’

  ‘Worried?’

  ‘You didn’t look good. You still don’t look good.’

  ‘I don’t feel good, I must admit.’

  ‘So, what happened? Remember, I’m a nurse.’

  ‘I didn’t get the job.’

  ‘Job. What job?’

  ‘His job.’

  ‘Your chief? Bushcatti?’

  ‘Correct.’

  ‘What makes you think it was yours to have?’

  Adolphinus gave her a look which said just one thing: ‘foolish girl’.

  ‘He promised it to me.’

  ‘So, he changed his mind?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Fargo, that’s why.’

  Her eyes lit up, with something approaching fear.

  ‘No. No. Not like that. Ju
st the fact he is mad was mad. Madness in the family is not acceptable. I cannot be the Chief, Chief Monk. It’s a red line.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that. I really am.’ She sounded sincere.

  ‘Thank you. Do you still drink?’ he asked, hoping she would reply yes.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Let me pour you a glass of wine.’

  She watched his every movement as if looking for clues to who he was now. She sat down with her glass and looked around the room; still looking for clues, or mistakes.

  ‘You still have your old robe.’

  ‘Not mine, it belongs to Fargo.’

  ‘You’ve kept it all this time?’

  ‘Not exactly.’ He would not say more.

  Adolphinus sat down opposite, not too close, not too distant. Now here she was, demanding to be treated as a woman. No bad thing, he mused – no bad thing.

  ‘So here we are,’ he said.

  He sounds slightly nervous, she noted – and relished.

  ‘So here we are.’

  ‘It’s been many years.’

  ‘Many years?’

  ‘Since we got together like this.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like . . . friends?’

  ‘Just friends.’

  ‘Is that not enough?’

  ‘I suppose so.’

  ‘You are not happy?’

  ‘No. I missed you.’

  ‘Missed me. We’ve met many times since then?’

  ‘That doesn’t count. That’s work. I was off-limits. We talked about sick people and sickness.’

  ‘Let’s talk then.’

  ‘Yes, let’s talk.’

  But neither could start to talk. Neither was ready to talk. The history between them was at the very least awkward, at worse painful. They had been lovers. Giddy with too much sex, and set free by alcohol, she had sworn to give up nursing. In turn, he had sworn to leave the church. Speaking as one, they had promised to spend the rest of their lives together, and face the world together – the world outside The Maze. When the moment of ecstasy and elation had passed, both admitted to themselves that they had made silly promises, but still pretended that the manifesto stood, so the sex and drinking continued. But the high ideals and spirit of their relationship evaporated until all that remained was the sex. The final nail was the news of his promotion. As Chief Monk, he dare not have a mistress, and so he dropped her. Both walked away from it; he apologizing, she complaining; both outwardly reconciled to its passing. But she had never fully let it die. She had held on to her part of it and waited. And now, perhaps the waiting was over. She could sense it: he needed somebody; finally, at last, he needed somebody. And she was right.