“You really should. Would you like me to make the arrangements? I could give him a ring tonight.”
Father Urban thought this over, and then he said: “Would you?”
“Sure. I won’t say it won’t cost you something, but I’ll ask him to make it easy on you. I’m taking a little more off the top than usual.”
“Well, I hope it won’t come to that,” said Father Urban.
Thus his case was referred to Mr O’Hara’s son, a big head specialist in Rochester.
Father Urban went down by train. He stayed a week, and was given a thorough physical examination. Special attention, of course, was given to his head, X rays, electroencephalograms, and so on — the works. The results were negative.
“Doesn’t show a thing,” said young Dr O’Hara, holding one of the X rays up to the light.
“How do you mean that?” said Father Urban.
Young Dr O’Hara sat down on the desk in Father Urban’s room at the hospital and put his feet on the chair. He didn’t inspire confidence somehow. “Perfectly normal,” he said.
Father Urban still felt that something was wrong with his head. “You’d tell me, wouldn’t you?”
“Oh, but of course,” said young Dr O’Hara, with a big smile. “That’s one thing I believe in. Now let’s get this straight. There could be plenty wrong. It just wouldn’t show up. You can understand that, can’t you?”
“Oh yes.”
“When you get a little older, you know, the old machine develops a few knocks. You have to expect these things.”
“I suppose you do. I just never had anything like it before.”
“First time for everything, you know. Have you tried aspirin?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Didn’t help?”
“Some. The trouble is I don’t know when these attacks are coming, and then it’s too late.”
“You might try Anacin for faster relief. It won’t upset your stomach either.”
“That’s what you recommend then?”
“Yes, in a case like yours.”
“I see.”
“Of course, no two cases are alike.”
“No, I suppose not. Well, thanks.”
“Say hello to Dad,” said young Dr O’Hara, after making sure he had Father Urban’s correct address.
POWWOW
Present were the Rev. Fathers Wilfrid (Bestudik), John (Kelleher), and Urban (Roche), with Brother Harold (Peters) recording. The Rector called upon Father Urban for a prayer.
RECTOR: Thank you, Father. Once again, I choose this day to meet with you — this day because it marks the Order’s second anniversary here. I’m happy to say that the past year was in every way better than the first one, and I thank you for making it so. You, Father Urban, and you, Father John, and you, too, Brother Harold. Without you, well…
FR JOHN: Our thanks to you, Father.
RECTOR: Thank you, Father.
Financially, St Clement’s Hill was doing better than ever before, even though expenses were at an all-time high. What had been realized from retreats and weekend work in the past year was no little sum, but was nothing compared with the satisfaction there was in a job well done. Only last week, the Bishop was said to have said, “Those men have become an asset to the diocese.” Wasn’t that nice? That was how they wanted to keep it, and so they would continue their weekend work as long as it didn’t conflict with their obligations at the Hill. In any case, now that they weren’t going to St Monica’s, there would always be a man on duty at the Hill (Brother Harold would be there, too, of course), and the two men who did go out weren’t away as long as in the past, thanks to the station wagon. Nevertheless, there were problems. Several retreatants had complained about the coldness of their rooms. Perhaps more would have done so if they’d spoken their minds freely. Therefore, in the next few days, the Rector would install a blower in the furnace — rather, although this would cost money, would have one installed by local labor. (The blower itself was coming from the discount house in Minneapolis.) Thus the Rector was acting before the Hill got the reputation of being uncomfortable in the winter time. This was what the Rector called staying on top of a situation. He was also doing something about that bad place in the northwest corner of the roof. He had received a number of estimates, and had got the best possible deal, but the job was going to cost $92.50, not counting the cost of materials. It would begin as soon as these arrived from Minneapolis. After that, the attic would be insulated by the same contractor — an experienced man, presently unemployed, and his son — who would use insulation (Woolite) also on order from Minneapolis. Nobody at the Hill would have anything to do with these jobs, not even Brother Harold.
RECTOR: Now, as for the holes in the eaves, have you noticed something? The squirrels have disappeared. It’s the same all around here. That last frost we had in the spring played hob with the nuts. Hard on the squirrels, of course, but a break for us.
FR JOHN: Where’d they go?
RECTOR: I understand they’ve migrated to the east of us, but they’ll be back next year. House seems awfully quiet at night.
FR URBAN: We still have a mouse.
FR JOHN: Yes, there’s one lives in the wall between our rooms.
RECTOR: Does it bother you?
FR JOHN: Oh no.
RECTOR: Does it bother you, Father?
FR URBAN: Oh no.
RECTOR: Because if it does, maybe we can get rid of it. You have a mousetrap, Brother? No? Well, better buy one. We can always find use for it. And if there’s anything else you need, Brother, let me know. So much for that. Now then.
More than forty religious orders would be represented at the upcoming Vocations Fair at the Catholic high school in Ostergothenburg. The Rector, after making several inquiries, had been invited to participate, and permission to do so had since been received from Chicago. So the Clementines would have a booth at the Fair. They would display their publications, among them the brochure, and would be ready to talk turkey with likely prospects. Probably most orders would let it go at that, and hope for the best. As always, the small orders would be at a disadvantage. The Clementines would not be favored by the location of their booth (between the Jesuits and the Dominicans), but the Rector and Brother Harold had come up with something that they hoped would not only redress the balance in their favor but would appeal to youngsters of high school age — an I.Q. test.
RECTOR: I don’t have to tell you that everybody likes to take an I.Q. test. Now here are some of the questions. Please listen carefully. “Who was the Holy Founder of the Order of St Clement?”—“St Clement of Blois.” You realize, of course, that the questions and answers will be scrambled on the page. “Who was St Clement of Blois?”—“A Frenchman of noble birth.” Too easy, you think, but wait. “Was St Clement of Blois also known as Pope Clement?”—“No.” “Was St Clement of Blois a martyr?”—“Yes.” You can see it’s getting more difficult — and don’t forget these are high school students. “How did St Clement of Blois die?”—“He was slain by fanatics.” “How did fanatics slay St Clement of Blois?”—“They crushed him under a millstone.” Now a lot of ’em will give that answer to the previous question—“How did St Clement of Blois die?” They’d be right, of course, but it wouldn’t be the right answer. That’ll throw a lot of ’em, and some of the other questions are just as tricky. Well, that’s how it works. There are twenty questions in all. There are twenty-one answers, however. One of the answers, H2O, has nothing to do with the questions. Now here’s how we grade the test. First we multiply the number of correct answers by ten, and then we subtract the number of minutes the student takes to complete the test. Let’s say a student gets eighteen right, and takes seven minutes. Ten times eighteen is a hundred and eighty. Subtract seven. That gives the student an I.Q. of 173. Now here’s what we’ll use to time them. Just an ordinary kitchen timer. I bought it today. Brother Harold’s been wanting one for some time, and when this is over, I’m going to let him have it. Well, what do you think? Father Urban?