I wrote this story hunched over a Mainframe computer waiting for the electronics to finish their processing in 1989. It was to be about a gentle giant running his piggery, more than a prediction of the fall of the Soviet Union. The fact that a new Russian Federation was born in December 1991, was pure coincidence. This started as a short story but got longer and longer thus I divided it into chapters, well it was a long night at work and I had to keep awake for the processing and various switches to press!
The Monastery. Copyright P Audcent 1989
CHAPTER ONE. Beginnings.
The mist swirled as the wind picked up, bringing intermittent showers and numbing cold. Beneath the sandstone headland the sea swell surged rhythmically, echoing deeply within the hollowed out cliffs. Dawn was coming and the old mother sow was dying. Stefan clasped her head closer to his chest and prayed that old age be banished from that moment on so that life on earth could be truly eternal. Alas the old sow sensing his grief, grunted once then lay still as the life force left her. He covered her head with his overcoat and blessed her with his hand, then fell exhausted into a deep untroubled sleep wedged between her enormous body and the doorway he had hauled her through.
The wind increased and the mist dispersed. He awoke to the roar of an oncoming thunderstorm, so levering himself up and out of the doorway he trudged wearily across the yard and commenced digging her grave where he buried her alongside a host of chickens, geese and lambs. Then he shouldered his spade and with his great arms outstretched, herded the other animals along toward the farmhouse. Brushing his large hands over their heads and necks he comforted each one, and they, feeling his touch, entered the old house and settled down to await a change in the weather.
Thus for five years this had been the life of the St. Owen Abbey pig-man, a daily ritual of feeding, grooming, caring and loving his animals. For reasons best known to themselves the abbey fathers had decreed that their famous breeding stock of pigs and sheep be kept well away from the walls of their enchanted enclave lest the smell drive the friars to distraction. Volunteers were always sought on an annual basis, but strangely none were forthcoming. It was left to Stefan, after all he was so good with the pigs, and pretty useless at anything else. The abbey tutors discovered long ago he had this disagreeable habit of debating every new rule that the fathers, in their combined wisdom, decided to implement. It was useless to explain to Stefan the reason for these rules and procedures and why they were necessary, particularly as they generally encompassed the improvement in comfort and convenience for the staff. One such covered a new regulation that no food or sustenance was to be given away in times of famine, as the brothers would need extra food to sustain their heavier duties in providing spiritual relief to the populace. Stefan took some offence at this even though nobody could ever remember when the last famine had occurred.
Brother Stefan by no means languished in the piggery, for in truth he probably found the company more to his liking. Occasionally he would herd the season’s progeny up to the small roadside yard for collection by the local market people. The pigs were sold to farmers to improve their stock, and knowing they would be safe and cared for, he would shout and wave goodbye as they were trundled off to the farms or sales yards. Then he would wash as best he could, and walk across the fields up to the abbey where he would visit the chapel for an hour before heading off to the abbot’s office for fresh instructions. Scrub as he might he was never quite able to get a tang of piggy smell off his cloths so nobody followed him into chapel, and, if they were there already, some polite excuse followed by a hurried exit was often the casey
It was a new trainee recently arrived, who unwittingly entered the portals of the chapel precisely at the same time Stefan arrived, and as Stefan was senior, the novice was thoughtful enough to kneel some distance behind him. Though engrossed in prayer, a movement suddenly attracted the younger man, and looking quickly up he saw Stefan rise majestically in a kneeling position to hover over the alter rail. The poor novice was astounded and after a while managed to get enough courage to gain a better vantage point. Indeed Stefan was floating unaided with his head sunk deeply on his broad chest, his huge beard wagging up and down as he chatted away.
Of course the novice’s report would not have been believed had he not been the abbot’s nephew.se
'Father Abbot, Uncle, the brother who looks after the pigs was flying in the chapel’ The youth was nervously shaking either in wonder or trepidation.
The abbot ordered his nephew to obedient silence, dismissed him and then pondered on the possibilities of such an event. As caution was the better choice, he asked Stefan to remain at the abbey and the unfortunate nephew was despatched to care for the pigs and other animals. A watch was set by three of the abbey brothers to follow Stefan into the chapel, and report any strange occurrences. A week passed with no unusual happenings, the old Abbot breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to write a sharp letter to his sister about her son. As pen reached paper one of the brothers opened the Abbot’s door and beckoned him to follow quickly. They arrived to see Stefan bent in prayer, hover over the sacristy rail and land gently in front of the altar.
They heard his final prayer ‘I miss my friends the animals, give the Abbot a little push please’li
Events from herein moved rapidly and the Bishops secretary was informed forthwith. The young priest with a clutch of very respectable doctorates ran post haste to his Lordships gazebo where lunch was being served. The Bishop waved his secretary to the opposite chair and commenced to fill his plate up while the event of that morning was recounted to him. Being no fool the Bishop proffered a number of theories that could explain the occurrence, but the priest assured him that Father Abbott himself had witnessed the event and urgent attention to the matter was needed. His Lordship thought for a few minutes and he then bade the priest to drive down to the Abbey to investigate the matter.
"Always knew that doctorate would come in useful, now off you go, take my
car, keep an open mind and, for heavens sake, not a word to anyone. Tell
Father Abbot that proof is what we need, suggest a Polaroid photo or two - you don’t suppose they have a video camera there?・p
The secretary shook his head and scurried off through the rhododendrons toward the garages, leaving his Lordship somewhat bemused at the stir such an event would have had in those comfortable cloisters of Saint Owen
It was early evening when the secretary was ushered into the abbot's study, and the abbot himself poured two glasses of sherry as he showed his guest a large sofa to sit on.
"Frightful business really”
“rI would have thought the opposite, Father Abbot, a miracle indeed!・
"Exactly the wrong time too, really its too much", sighed the old man.
"But just what we need to instil a little faith into our brethren surely?"
・We’ll be the laughing stock of the Pigs and Sheep Breeders Federation no doubt, look we have contracts to fulfil, our sheep stock is highly regarded, we have a shipment due in less than two months to Saudi.” He paused somewhat out of breath. y
"Saudi Arabia?" exclaimed the young priest.
"Middle East you know, a market recently opened up at great expense, the Arabs have plenty of cash, not promissory notes mark you, but hard cash.・
・
That's a bit pecuniary Father Abbot?”
"Nonsense, it’s called business, but I hardly expect those who live in ivory towers to understand. Now what did his Lordship have to say on the matter?e”
"Well he didn't say much at all except to be sure to get a photo. He did seem amused by the incident”
The Abbot lifted his hands to his forehead.
"Did it again, our brother Stefan, just an hour ago, we didn't have anything but a video camera handy at the time so we used that. Father Dunster hid behind the second confessional and fortunately the light was sufficient to capture the event." The Abbot reached for the decanter and poured a fresh supply of amber liquid into their glasses.
“DWonderful, wonderful" the young priest clasped his hands in joy “May I speak to the brother if that isn’t too much bother?・d.
The Abbott sighed, then rose and pressed a small electric button on his desk.
"Brother James will take you to his cell, I mean that literally, we've locked him up for safety reasons"
The secretary spent an hour or so with Stefan and discovered many things about farmyard animals in general piglets in particular, and sheep that gave birth to twins, but nothing about bodily elevation. Stefan said in all humility that he had never met one of those magicians and had no intention of allowing more than one foot off the ground at a time. The young priest persisted in his questioning but got no further. He returned to the abbot, collected the video tape, promising to return it when he and the Bishop had seen the evidence, then drove back to the palace in a high state of excitement.
The Bishop was settled in the television room and was engrossed in a documentary on bee keeping, a subject close to his heart as he loved to potter in the garden where he had two hives to satisfy a sweet tooth.
"My Lord, I have a video no less, of the event!”
”rDo sit down Father please, this is very interesting,・His Lordship jabbed a finger to an empty chair.
"Yes, isn’t it, a fantastic piece of luck the abbey having a video camera." d
"Very modern and progressive I'm sure", said his Lordship, "Now kindly keep quite.”
"Please may we must see the event at once." The secretary rose up and headed for the video machine.
The Bishop shrugged his shoulders, he loved honey, and they were demonstrating a new smoke canister, he made a mental note to send away for one.
"Very well if you insist," then he sat back as the secretary loaded the cassette and started it up.
Though somewhat shaky and dark there was no mistaking Stefan and his heavy beard flapping away at his chest in his pew. Suddenly he rose to a height of two metres, floated for several minutes then returned slowly down to the pew. The Bishop rubbed his eyes and called for a second showing, then a third. Deep in thought he rose and biding his secretary goodnight, went to bed dreaming of beeswax and honey.
The Archbishop was a grisly birdlike man with wisps of fine white hair protruding from behind the ears and a set of cool blue eyes that made many a Bishop somewhat uneasy. The cardinal’s cap had eluded him thus far, for his manner was both cold and remote and those who count in the Curia noted these things. He was, nevertheless, a true man of the cloth, had a genuine affection for mankind in general, particularly the underdog. When informed of the phenomenon at St. Owen he ordered that Stefan be allowed to return to normal duties, further no special protective or security measures were to hinder the brothers work. He advised the Bishop to keep an eye on the Abbey and consult directly with Rome.
Brother Stefan was returned without ceremony to his lonely farmhouse and the Abbot’s nephew returned to the safety of the Abbey. Rome was duly informed by a formal request from the Bishop to investigate the event. Ultimately the request became buried under a pile of other miracle reporting. The wheels of bureaucracy turn very slowly in any society, particularly in the case of the Vatican with its rusty bearings. So the Abbot was taken by surprise when eight months after the event had occurred, a highly regarded servant of the Curia turned up on his doorstep to request an interview with both the witnesses and Stefan.
・I’ll have Brother Stefan brought immediately", said the Abbot
"No, please, I’d like to see him on his home turf so to speak", replied the Monsignor, "But first the Bishop informs me you have both witnesses and a video tape, so please allow me to interview them and then look at the tape.
Monsignor stayed at the abbey for three days interviewing the monks closely associated with the event. He visibly choked when the Abbot’s nephew, in a state of high euphoria, exaggerated the height of Stefan’s flight.
・But Brother you reported a mere two metres nine months ago, now you say Stefan rose up to twelve metres, which am I to believe?”
"Fourteen it was sir.”
"Truly remarkable since the ceiling in the chapel is only seven!・
The nephew blushed and said mathematics was never his best school subject.
"Nor estimation or truth it would seem", came the droll reply.
On the fourth day Monsignor drove down to the farm by himself. As luck would have it Stefan was in one of the outbuildings tending a sheep with a broken leg. Monsignor introduced himself and sat down on a bale of Lucerne to watch the brother tackle the job at hand.
"You'll splint it I suppose rather than put the animal down?" he asked.
"No, its a clean break and will heal quickly", said Stefan.
"Really!" exclaimed an amused Monsignor, "But how long is quickly?"
Stefan looked up, then without replying set the leg and wrapped a bandage firmly around the limb.
・tOff you go now and be more careful of that rocky outcrop. You aren’t a mountain goat, though you may act like one sometimes. He raised the sheep up and gently ushered the creature through the door.
"That’s cruel Brother Stefan, Gods creatures deserve better treatment.
"I'm sorry Monsignor but I don' t follow you. ・
"The leg you foolish man may be set, but that bandage will work loose soon and the animal will suffer a greater pain. Call it back at once please."
"Come then we will call the sheep back, you are right that bandage could be harmful after all", Stefan raised his voice and the sheep trotted back to them. He lay the animal on its side and unrolled the bandage.
"Now off you go your leg will have greater freedom to move and you won’t go tripping on the bandage. The sheep leapt to its feet and bounded away like a rabbit in spring.
"Remarkable", said Monsignor quietly, then in a louder voice, "Of course the leg could only have been sprained or maybe just a graze”
"Maybe," replied the Brother "But the cause and answer is not important. The sheep is whole again, that’s all that is important to her.
Monsignor returned to the abbey two days later, wished the Abbot a happy day
then went on to the Bishops residence to give him an interim report.
The Bishop had laid out lunch in the Gazebo on the back lawn and served
Monsignor himself so they wouldn't be disturbed.
"Have you seen the video yet?" he inquired.
"I am so pleased your Lordship did not serve lamb today." Monsignor smiled at his host.
"Well come on, what do you think?”
"Having not actually witnessed the event myself, I can only presume the evidence has a basis of truth therefore I would like to take Brother Stefan to Rome for further research I think the Brother is gifted but I am not prepared to say more.”
"Out of the question " said his Lordship between mouthfuls, "The pigs would never allow it!”
"Pigs?”
"The farm animals. I think Stefan would be happiest where he is, in his own world not somebody else’s, if you get the implication."
"You would veto his coming to Rome?”
"Yes, for his own protection and our salvation.”
"The Archbishop would support you in this?”
"Most certainly, we both play a round of golf occasionally and I would refuse to allow him to win! " The Bishop leant back and grinned.
"Pity, a man of Stefan’s ability and simplicity. We would have bought a breath of fresh air into the higher echelon of our Mother Church.
"You would have killed him with kindness or captivity, now eat your lunch Monsignor, I do hope you write a slightly less enthusiastic account when you get home and leave our Brother Stefan in peace.
Monsignor nodded his assent then dutifully tucked into his food all the while calculating the chances of an unofficial kidnap. His Lordship smiled broadly at his guest and pointing his finger at Monsignor.
"Tony, off the record, no abduction or tricks of that sort or you’ll not get a portion of cooks trifle, made with my own honey. Besides which, it would be the ducking stool for you. The Monsignor blushed, then roared with laughter.
・lMaybe, maybe not, but I'd be a classic fool to tackle an old fox like you!・
They parted as friends that evening and Stefan remained secure in the world that he loved.
Life returned to normal at the abbey and Stefan’s visits to the chapel were rarer. His duties, plus the fact that the Abbot had converted a small metal shed as a chapel on the farm for Stefan to pray in. The shed was slightly lower than Stefan’s ample frame. The Bishop himself came down to consecrate it and dubbed it in his mind the farmers retreat. But he pronounced it loudly as the Chapel of St Francis. The video remained dormant in the Abbots cupboard safe and sound.
Alas nothing ever stays still for very long, for the abbey had prospered, particularly as the Danes had purchased a swag of piglets at enormous cost to themselves. So the Abbey痴 furniture was either repaired or replaced. Father Abbott, being first in line had his study refurbished and the old furniture was auctioned off in the city. Needless to say both the cupboard and its contents went under the hammer to of all people, the local Mayor. He was a person who held political views slightly left of the far left, and the discovery and subsequent playing of the video together with the knowledge of from whence it came, set his mind in a whirl. Strange to say he did not suspect for one moment the video to be a fake. He had the prudence to realise that in spite of all his shortcomings the Abbey was an honestly run enterprise and not given to larking about. He smelt what one would call a heck of a story, or a heck of an inconvenience depending on which political foot you were standing on. As both his feet were a brilliant scarlet with hammer and sickle to boot, he forwarded the tape in a plain brown parcel to a friend who might perchance have a use for such an item. n
Meanwhile, a Polish Pope had been elected a few years earlier, an austere man but also a patriot. The Iron curtain countries continued to be alarmed at the mantel of power bestowed upon one so strong in temperament and personality. They demanded some neutralisation of this man by the Soviets before he turned their world upside down. Moscow disagreed, it was too concerned with its own economical plight, but agreed to turn a blind eye to other attempts to discredit Rome, or worse, attacks on the person of the Pope. The Pope blooded by a bullet became less interested in diplomacy and more strident in his demands for freedom of his eastern flock. The satellite countries requested prompt action by Moscow to curtail the Papal onslaught, so a brief but highly productive meeting took place in a small dacha outside of Moscow. Present were officials from the KGB, GRU, and Kremlin security. The Service Chief of a department simply called ' the unit' was invited into the discussion. His department was not subversive, merely a collection and storage office of miscellaneous information patiently screened and filed away for future use.
A committee was formed by the politburo with each of the services represented by a senior person. Thus a second meeting took place at the same dacha. Four pieces of information were presented to the new committee. The video of Brother Stefan was certainly the most unusual, highly improbable, therefore the most likely piece of news the decadent west would accept. It had everything going for it, religious, human and animal interest, more importantly it had not cost a rouble.
In New York, some weeks later a dapper little man sold a copy of the video together with an overview of where it had been filmed, to the mighty American Broadcasting Company. They in turn decided to include it in a news segment after the briefest of checking the accuracy of the tape. They had a human-interest story and with Easter fast approaching a short piece on miracles in general and this event in particular would be an apt time to air the story. The public reaction was enormous and the demand for more information forced both the ABC and its competitors to reshow the video with discussion panels afterwards to give the pro's and con's. Even more strangely not one member of these panels was a Catholic let alone a practising Christian. But all expressed their divergent expert opinions with great authority. Even bell ringing, and table lifting managed to find their way into the discussions. The public fed up with the normal daily round of crisis and negative news demanded more of the religious theme. The news hounds were released; the story floated from continent to continent but the Mother Church remained deeply apprehensive.
A spark can become a raging inferno by a little judicious fanning, and Moscow Central were experts where misinformation was concerned. The abbey soon became the focal point of the ferocious media pack fed by regular drops of misinformation originating from the East. The poor Abbott had the presence of mind to lock all doors and keep the telephone off the hook. Alas his nephew, having a penchant for opening his mouth when on a visit to his mother's local Inn, imbibed too much and poured out all he knew into the ears of a lady from "The Post".
The Bishop, meanwhile, had never foreseen the newspapers eagerness to get their hands on the miracle monk, so he had Brother Stefan whisked away to the safety of the city with room and board at the Sisters Of Charity. There Stefan stayed in sanctuary whilst greater minds than his, plotted their next move.
The Vatican knew that the bubble was to be burst at some future time, but even the CIA couldn’t fathom out when that time would be. Consequences would be traumatic. Euphoria was wild, those demanding more information further criticised the Church for not utilising Stefan as an advertisement for Christianity.
Monsignor called the Bishop and they debated the issue at great length. Brother Stefan was to go to Rome for his own safety, Mother Superior was getting more alarmed at the chance of his breaking her crystal lights in her chapel, and she wanted him out. One chandelier had already been shattered. The Bishop asked he be sent to a non-Christian country to serve out his life in peace, however the Americans wanted him for research, the French needed a new saint and the South Americans wanted another idol, as the Peron’s were now dead.
Monsignor flew over to Cornwall a few days later.
"My Lord, whichever way we jump those grandmasters of chess will have us in their palms. They intend to cut this appalling interest in one swipe and the Church will undoubtedly suffer for a decade or more".
"But Stefan really does have a gift, not only in levitation, as you well know. Why not admit it too the world?”
"Far too risky, the higher we rise the deeper we fall.”
"I'm concerned with his healing abilities Monsignor. God gives his gifts to be used. We can't keep him incarcerated for ever, besides Mother Superior has just written me an ultimatum.
"Very well, let Stefan return to the farm, to be seen by those who wish, if the Soviets act we can deny the event and disclaim the video as a prank of the youngsters in the abbey. We can't win more souls at the expense of loosing them.
Moscow had been sure the Church would react differently and use the free publicity to its greatest advantage. The Vatican issued a brief statement requesting calm and common sense to prevail. Further, the video was badly shot by an amateur, however the Church would not refuse to allow the Brother to meet with the media if the public so demanded to set every bodies mind at ease.
Thus a week later Brother Stefan met with a group of correspondents and denied all knowledge of levitating during prayer.
When I pray I am not aware of my physical being and certainly would be greatly shocked if I rose up even two centimetres. I don’t think that to get close to God means you have to climb a mountain. Better to stay where we are, both feet on the ground and our minds in the air, rather than the other way round.・
"Have you seen the video in question?" asked one reporter.
"No, I have no need of television or radio, my music and songs are in the countryside around me. “
"Wouldn’t it surprise you to know the film shows you actually levitating?"
"Nothing surprises me in this world, or indeed in the next, we are all Gods children and no doubt eager to learn as we progress toward our Lords intentions".
"Can you heal?" asked the lady from The Post'.
The room became tense as Stefan scratched his beard and thought awhile.
"Yes, I am an instrument to heal", he said quietly. "We can all be used to heal, prayer is very powerful, its a gift we could all share.”
"Perhaps, but you heal in particular".
"Enough, I know where you wish to lead me, but healing is a natural process within our own bodies, I do not heal as an individual, by pr