Soul Sanctuary - 3. An angel

It’s barely five in the morning, but Caliban is already awake. He opens his window. Even though his room is located on a very high level in the Cathedral, he has a full view of the Main Square. So, although he won’t be able to attend the festival, he will at least be able to see it from afar.

Like every year before.

The Archdeacon will be waking up no later than six, because he’ll be receiving guests for the opening ceremony of the festival. Every year, important people from other provinces come for the ceremony, and most of them are provided with lodging at the Brogan household in the suburbs of Obsidian.

So, Caliban has around fifty minutes to bathe and groom himself so he can attend to his master’s grooming. He puts on a ragged shirt and a pair of shorts and walks out of his room through his secret passage to get water for his morning bath. Fortunately, the well is at a very remote corner of the Cathedral and given the hour it’s very unlikely he will be seen. The master would never forgive him if someone were to see him.

He’s not wearing shoes, that way it’s easier for him to walk fast. He crosses from his room to the backyard in less than ten minutes. But as he comes to the door he stops dead in his tracks. Before the well, there’s a man he’s never seen before, someone who does not belong in the Cathedral.

The man is standing with his back to Caliban, so he cannot make out all of his features in the twilight. He has a muscular back and what Caliban gather must be de blackest hair he’s ever seen, short and slightly wavy. When the man starts turning around, Caliban quickly hides behind a wall.

“Hello?” Raymond calls.

Caliban’s heart starts beating fast. If the man sees him, he’ll be in deep trouble with his master.

“Hello?” Raymond calls again.

Even though he’s extremely nervous, Caliban can’t help but notice the man’s timbre is beautiful, masculine yet sweet. He looks from where he’s hiding and looks at the man’s face. He has bushy black eyebrows and long and curly lashes crowning a pair of green-blue eyes. His nose is straight and his mouth small but full.

Caliban’s heart is beating even faster as he walks backwards to hide from the man. After a few tense seconds, the man disappears and Caliban allows himself to exhale. He then walks to the well and hurries up collecting his water.

As soon as he’s back in his hidden room, Caliban pours the cold water in his metal tub and gets naked. He jumps inside the tub and starts scrubbing his body with the loofah, with just a little bit of the soap bar he religiously takes care of.

The water is so very cold, but he is used to it.

Once he’s done, he comes out of the tub and starts drying himself. He so wants to tell Aaron about the man he’s seen, but there’s no time. His clock marks 0545 hours, almost time to tend to his master’s bath.

‘Later,’ he tells himself, ‘I’ll tell Aaron as soon as the master’s gone.’

***************

“Caliban,” the Archdeacon says, “as you know, I’ll be joining my guests at Brogan Manor.”

“Yes, master.”

“Father Armellino will be in charge of the Church.”

“Like every year, master.”

“Indeed. I hope you won’t be thinking of disobeying me,” the Archdeacon says raising one of his bushy eyebrows.

Caliban goes completely pale. He doesn’t know how the Archdeacon does it, but it’s as he could read his mind.

“Don’t worry, Caliban,” he says, “I trust you. And I don’t think you’d be as foolish as to leave the quietness of your sanctuary ….”

“Master, I … I wouldn’t ....” Caliban stutters.

“I know you wouldn’t.”

The Archdeacon starts walking towards the exit of the room and turns on his heels.

“Caliban.”

“Yes, master?”

“Don’t forget to open your window. The play this year will be wonderfully staged and performed, I am told. It would be a shame if you missed it.”

He walks outside locking the door.

Caliban walks toward the secret door which will take him to his room. He’s quietly crying as he walks, tears rolling down his cheeks. He wishes he could go to the play and the master … the master was cruel.

‘No. Not cruel. He’s protective. He takes care of me. He’s afraid people will hurt me. I am so ungrateful having these thoughts about him. He took me in as a baby even though I was a monster. I’m so ungrateful! If it weren’t for him I’d be dead. I would’ve died at birth.’

He’s in the safety of his room now. He runs to the trunk where he keeps Aaron and brings him out.

“Hey, Aaron! It’s the Festival today! What? You forgot? How could you forget?”

He takes Aaron to a chair and places him down.

“Let me help you into your festival outfit.”

He takes out the blue outfit Aaron chose for the festival and starts dressing him. When he’s done, he goes back to the trunk to get his own clothes.

“I haven’t told you, Aaron,” he says, “but I saw an angel this morning. What do you mean? I know it was an angel because … because he is so beautiful. I think he is beauty himself. What? No, I’d never seen him before. No Aaron, I don’t know who he is.”

Caliban finishes dressing and then sits next to Aaron in front of the window. Even when the Festival hasn’t been declared open yet, there are a lot of people in the Main Square, street vendors, acrobats, fortune tellers.

Caliban loves looking at the passersby. The myriad of complexions, hair colors, and clothes really catches his eyes. He marvels at the multitude of colors in the people’s outfits, especially those of the gypsies.

“Look, Aaron! Yes, the Gypsies! Look at that man with that colorful bandana! What? You don’t like it? But Gypsies are so colorful! You don’t like colorful? Oh, come on! Their outfits are so alive!”

Caliban jumps with excitement at the sight. The opening is still an hour from starting, but Caliban doesn’t seem to notice as he talks to Aaron about everything he can see.

His blood runs cold when he hears a knock on his always locked door.

“Hello?” someone calls from the other end.

Caliban looks at Aaron in desperation. It’s him! It’s the angel he saw this morning! And he knows it because of the voice. His heart is beating fast, because the prospect of being caught and his master knowing about it is just terrifying.

“Hello there?” the man calls again.

Caliban doesn’t move. He doesn’t even breathe hoping the man will just go away. But he doesn’t.

“I know you’re there,” he says, “I just heard you talking.”

“Go away!” Caliban says unable to hold himself anymore.

“I just wanna talk. It was you this morning by the well, wasn’t it?”

Caliban doesn’t reply and he regrets that he did moments ago.

“I’m Father Emerald,” he says, “the Archdeacon’s new pupil.”

The sole mention of the Archdeacon terrifies Caliban. If this man talks to his master, he’ll be lost.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” Caliban says, “Please go!”

“Please,” Father Emerald says, “Don’t be afraid. I just wanna talk to you ....”

Impulsively, Caliban moves the lock away and runs to a dark corner to hide from the priest. He doesn’t want the man to look upon his monstrous image.

The beautiful young priest comes inside and almost immediately catches the man crouching at the corner of the room.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says, “Please come into the light.”

“I can’t,” Caliban says, “I’m not supposed to be here, you’re not supposed to know I’m here.”

“But I do now. Please, come out.”

“I don’t wanna scare you,” Caliban replies, “Just go. Please?”

Raymond approaches the crouching silhouette with careful steps. When he is close enough but without being invasive, he extends his hand.

“I’m Raymond Emerald,” he says.

Caliban hesitates; he doesn’t know what to make of the situation.

“I won’t bite,” Raymond says.

Caliban finally extends his hand without leaving his position.

“I’m Caliban.”

“Don’t be afraid, Caliban.”

“If the master knows you’ve seen me ….”

“By the master you mean … the Archdeacon?”

Caliban nods.

“Please, come out.”

“No. I’ll make you afraid. Please go.”

“I don’t see why you’ll make me afraid. Come out, I insist.”

Caliban doubts for a moment, but then stands and approaches the man.

Raymond looks at a red haired hunchback young man. He can’t be older than twenty. He has deep green eyes and a freckled face. His features seem slightly different, like those of a little person, but he has a handsome face. He’s heavily built, muscular arms that somehow fit strangely with his hump.

“Now you’re scared, right?” Caliban says, “There. Now leave me alone.”

Caliban walks towards the window where Aaron has been positioned. Raymond remains in place and then speaks.

“Caliban ….”

“What?”

“Could you turn around and face me?”

“Why would I do that? So you can look at the monster in a better light?”

Caliban jumps when he feels Raymond’s hands on his shoulders.

“You are not a monster,” Raymond says.

Caliban says nothing. Raymond’s hands still rest on his shoulders.

“Why are you secluded in here?”

Caliban doesn´t reply.

“It’s the Archdeacon, isn’t it?”

Caliban walks away from the window and sits down on his bed.

“This is a wonderful work of art,” Raymond says looking at Aaron, “Where did you get it?”

“Him,” Caliban says.

“Pardon?”

“Him, not it. I made him. His name is Aaron.”

“You made him? Caliban this is incredible craftsmanship!”

“Thank you.”

Raymond lets go of Aaron and walks towards Caliban.

“Please,” Caliban says, “please don’t tell the master you’ve seen me. He’d say I was careless … Please?”

The young priest can see the terror in the boy’s eyes as he pleads.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since I was born? A young woman was my care taker as a child. But one day she left and never came back.”

“How old are you?”

“The master says I’m twenty, but I’m not really sure.”

Raymond feels shocked and saddened by Caliban’s circumstances. How was it that the Archdeacon has kept him in seclusion for so long is something that escapes him.

“He is a pious man. He took me in as a baby, when my mother had abandoned me to a certain death. He’s my caretaker ….”

Raymond says nothing. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to feel but a deep compassion for this young man who has been kept away from the world because of a deformity of which he isn’t guilty.

“So, you won’t tell him you saw me, right?”

Raymond thinks maybe he should talk to the Archdeacon about it. Maybe he can make a difference for this young man. But there are several maybes crossing his mind. The first thing he remembers is Harold’s scarred back, the marking of the Archdeacon’s intolerance.

“Please, father.”

“You can call me Raymond. And no, I won’t tell him.”

“Thank you, Raymond.”

“It’s almost noon and the Festival’s open ceremony will soon take place. I have to go.”

“I understand.”

“Can I come back and see you some time?”

“I don’t know, if the master ….”

“I’ll find a way, Caliban. If it’s fine with you, I’d like to be your friend.”

Caliban nods.

“Take care, then,” Raymond says.

Before going out, the handsome young man cups Caliban’s face in his hands.

“Have this clear, Caliban. You’re not a monster.”

Caliban falls to his knees as the man walks out. In his mind he continues to see those deep green eyes staring into his soul. He can’t help it, two tears run down his cheeks. He’s never been touched before.

“He touched me, Aaron,” he whispers to his inanimate friend, “my angel has touched me ….”