The Sparrow Read Online Free PDF

recognized grief in others. "It will all come right in the end, sir," Edward said as he broke up the toast and moved the plate closer to Sandoz. "Try to be patient with yourself."
    Edward turned to the window and reached up to pull the curtain open, stretching his portly body to its limit. His wife had called him Teddy Behr, from affection, and because he was built like a stuffed animal. "If you need anything," he said to Sandoz, "I’m near." And then he left.
    It took half an hour to finish a single slice of toast and it wasn’t a pretty process, but no one was watching and Sandoz managed. Then to his own continuing surprise, he felt the lethargy take over and fell asleep in the sunlight, slumped in the chair by the window.
    A knock on the slightly open door woke him only minutes later. He was incapable of tying a handkerchief around the door lever, a venerable Jesuit custom that meant Do Not Disturb. He might have had Brother Edward do it for him but he hadn’t thought of that. He hadn’t thought of much lately. That was a mercy. The dreams, of course, were merciless … The knocking came again.
    "Come in," he called, expecting it was Edward, come for the plates. Instead, he saw the Father General’s oddly soft and rigid secretary, Johannes Voelker. Startled, he got to his feet and moved back, putting the chair between him and the other man.

    J OHANNES V OELKER HAD a high, penetrating voice that rang in Sandoz’s small bare room, and John Candotti heard it when he was still halfway down the hall. The door to the room was open as always, so John was spared the necessity of barging in without knocking.
    "Of course, Dr. Sandoz," Voelker was saying as John entered the room, "the Father General would like to hear that you have decided to remain among us—"
    "The Father General is kind," Sandoz whispered, glancing warily at John. He was standing in the corner, his back against the wall. "I need a little time. I won’t trouble you longer than necessary."
    "Ah. You see, Candotti?" Voelker said, turning to John. "He is determined. A pity but there are circumstances when a man leaves for the good of the Society," Voelker said briskly, returning to Sandoz, "and I shall commend such an honorable decision. Naturally, we will be happy to shelter you until you have fully recovered your strength, Dr. Sandoz."
    Here’s your hat, John Candotti thought, what’s your hurry? Incensed, he was about to tell the Austrian to take a hike when he saw the shaking start. At first, John put it down to illness. Sandoz had almost died. He was still very frail. "Sit down, Father," John said quietly and went to the man’s side to guide him back into the chair. He moved behind Sandoz and glared at Voelker. "Father Voelker, I think Father Sandoz could use some rest. Now."
    "Oh, dear. I have tired you. Forgive me." Voelker moved without further prompting to the door.
    "Voelker’s a jerk," John Candotti said dismissively as the secretary’s footsteps receded down the hall. "Don’t let him rattle you. You can take all the time you need. It’s not like we’re waiting to rent your room out." He perched on the edge of Emilio’s bed, the only other place in the room to sit. "Are you okay? You look a little—" Scared, he thought, but he said, "Sick to your stomach."
    "It’s … hard. To have so many people around."
    "I can imagine," John said automatically but then he took it back. "I’m sorry. That was a stupid thing to say. I can’t imagine it, can I?"
    There was a brief bleak smile. "I hope not."
    Sobered, John dropped all thoughts of lecturing this man on real life.
    "Look, Father, I hope you don’t mind but I was thinking about what might be a help with your hands," he said after a while, not quite sure why he was embarrassed about mentioning this. Sandoz himself had made no attempt to hide them. Probably, it was thinking about all the things the guy