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ABIGAIL MANGIN 15
“I have a solution. Do not worry.” Brother George put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “But you have to follow my instructions very clearly. That’s the only way either of you will find salvation. Understand?”
She nodded enthusiastically, even pulling out her iPhone to take notes.
“You’re going to go home,” he said, “and talk to your son with a nice smile.”
The woman typed enthusiastically.
“You’re going to tell your husband never to lay a hand on Billy again.”
She typed slower, looking up at him with worried, wide eyes.
“You’re going to go home and show Billy the classics that are Flashdance and Grease. You will buy him sequined shorts if he wants them. You will love Billy no matter whom he loves when he’s older. And if your husband lays a hand on this boy again, I will personally shove those sequined shorts up his ass.”
“Brother George!” Abbot Joseph barked, standing atop the grassy hill with all of the abbey monks in tow.
He gave one look to his brothers, who stood staring down at him, both literally and figuratively, with scowls on their faces. The mother shook in place, hands quivering as her son’s had when he first saw Brother George. “God bless you,” he whispered.
As Brother George walked toward the monks, cape flinging around him like a royal train, Billy grabbed his hand. “You were wrong,” he said. “You are a ninja.”
In a few weeks, the monks would attend Brother George’s solemn profession. After a six-year formation period, studying Scripture, the Rule of St. Benedict, and life at the abbey, Brother George would give his solemn vows to commit the rest of his life to the monastic community at St. Joseph’s Abbey. He would live, eat,