"James Morrow - Auspicious Eggs" - читать интересную книгу автора (Morrow James)

walls.
Connie has seen Archbishop Xallibos in person only once before, five
years earlier, when the stately prelate appeared as an "honorary Irishman" in
Charlestown Parish's annual Saint Patrick's Day Parade. Standing on the
sidewalk, Connie observed Xallibos gliding down Lynde Street atop a huge
motorized shamrock. The archbishop looked impressive then, and he looks
impressive now -- six foot four at least, Connie calculates, and not an ounce
under three hundred pounds. His eyes are as red as a lab rat's.
"Father Cornelius Dennis Monaghan," the priest begins, following the
custom whereby a visitor to an archbishop's chambers initiates the interview
by naming himself.
"Come forward, Father Cornelius Dennis Monaghan."
Connie starts into the office, boots clacking on the polished bronze
floor. Xallibos steps from behind his desk, a glistery cube of black marble.
"Charlestown Parish holds a special place in my affections," says the
archbishop. "What brings you to this part of town?"
Connie fidgets, shifting first left, then right, until his face lies
mirrored in the hubcap-size Saint Cyril medallion adorning Xallibos's chest.
"My soul is in torment, Your Grace."
"'Torment.' Weighty word."
"I can find no other. Last Tuesday I laid a two-week-old infant to
rest."
"Terminal baptism?"
Connie ponders his reflection. It is wrinkled and deflated, like a
helium balloon purchased at a carnival long gone. "My eighth."
"I know how you feel. After I dispatched my first infertile -- no left
testicle, right one shriveled beyond repair -- I got no sleep for a week."
Eyes glowing like molten rubies, Xallibos stares directly at Connie. "Where
did you attend seminary?"
"Isle of Denver."
"And on the Isle of Denver did they teach you that there are in fact
two Churches, one invisible and eternal, the other -- "
"Temporal and finite."
"Then they also taught you that the latter Church is empowered to
revise its sacraments according to the imperatives of the age." The
archbishop's stare grows brighter, hotter, purer. "Do you doubt that present
privations compel us to arrange early immortality for those who cannot secure
the rights of the unconceived?"
"The problem is that the infant I immortalized has a twin." Connie
swallows nervously. "Her mother stole her away before I could perform the
second baptism."
"Stole her away?"
"She fled in the middle of the sacrament."
"And the second child is likewise arid?"
"Left ovary, two hundred ninety primordials. Right ovary, three hundred
ten."
"Lord..." A high whistle issues from the archbishop, like water vapor
escaping a tea kettle. "Does she intend to quit the island?"
"I certainly hope not, Your Grace," says the priest, wincing at the
thought. "She probably has no immediate plans beyond protecting her baby and