The Troublesome Offspring of Cardinal Guzman Read Online Free PDF Page A

emphasis, leaving Constanza too intimidated to explain to her that Gonzago was not like that.
    It was at this point that a gaunt but insouciant figure strode past the door, and the two women looked at one another in surprise. They could have sworn that a priest had just walked by, a priest who was not Father Garcia. They popped their heads out of the doorway, and without a word to each other, decided to follow him to see what he was up to, only to find that everyone else in the street had had the same idea. There was a crowd of folk following the new priest at a respectful distance, including Father Garcia, whose territorial instincts were struggling with his better nature. He was arguing fiercely with himself as to whether or not he should welcome thisnew priest or tell him to go away, since the parish was already spoken for. He resolved to bide his time.
    In the plaza the tattered cleric mounted the plinth of an obelisk and gazed distractedly into space as though gathering his holiness together into a point of light. Garcia recognised his own familiar technique for rendering people curious and silent, and he began to enjoy the occasion for its theatrical professionalism. He was able to look at the priest more closely now, and he realised that there was something strange about him. Everything was right, but at the same time it was wrong.
    Look at that hat for example; it was the correct shape, but it was a vaquero’s sombrero punched out and painted black. It had been daubed very thickly to give the impression of smoothness, but one could still see the weave of the straw underneath. And what about that dog collar? It was the right size, and it was white, but it most definitely had the look of carefully torn cardboard. The black robes seemed to be made of unecclesiastical material; they were too diaphanous, too loosely woven, like cheap curtains dyed to black and cobbled into shape. Father Garcia strained forward and noted that the stitches were large and clumsy, the kind of stitching that little children achieve in their first attempts.
    The new priest made the sign of the cross with his right hand, the people fell silent, and he announced, ‘Brothers and sisters, I come to bring you salvation. I am but a poor wandering missionary of the Order of St Haematoma the Blessed Martyr, and I earn my bread by the hearing of confessions and the granting of absolutions. For only twenty pesos I will give you peace of mind and the assurance of eternal bliss, guaranteed by this Most Holy Relic that I carry, which is the rib of St Necrophobia herself, who miraculously ascended into heaven in the year of Our Lord one thousand nineteen hundred and fifty-four, taking with her her carapace of flesh and leaving only her bones behind.’ He waved a yellowed bone that Pedro recognised instantly as having been taken from a dog.
    At this many people crossed themselves, and the priest continued, ‘I am to be found at the first jaguar obelisk at the entrance to the town. Be silent for the blessing.’ He bowed his head and intoned, ‘
Non (ita me Di ament) quicquam referre putaui utrumne os an culum olfacerem Aemilio, nilo mundius hoc nihiloque immundius illud.
Amen.’The people reiterated the amen, and the priest departed with dignity towards the place appointed by himself for his ministry.
    Smiling with delight, Father Garcia turned to Dionisio and said, ‘Do you know what he just said?’ and the latter replied, ‘My Latin is not too good, but it certainly didn’t sound right. What was it?’
    ‘It was Catullus,’ said Garcia. ‘It was “I believed (Gods help me) that it made no difference whether I smelled Aemilius’ mouth or anus, the one being no cleaner, the other no dirtier.”’
    ‘He said that?’ Dionisio was astonished. ‘What kind of blessing is that?’
    ‘It is the blessing of a false priest who is concerned to make a living,’ said Garcia. ‘I am going to go at once to confess to him so that I can hear more