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397 pages, Paperback
First published April 1, 2021
The boy was watching her. “Why are you doing this? What is that thing?”
“I am setting out my prayer mat. I wish to pray.”
He nodded. “Praying? I have heard of that. So you do it on that old rag?”
Scarlett paused. “I use this fragile, sacred cloth, yes. And, by the way, once I’m sitting on it, there are rules. You don’t bother me, prod me, talk to me, or flick soil at my ears. You leave me alone and wait for me to finish.”
Albert Browne considered the matter. “So it’s like a toilet, then? Old Michael at Stonemoor used to express himself in similar terms.”
Scarlett clutched pre-emptively at her cuss-box, then took another deep slow breath. “I won’t strike you… Self-evidently you are a simpleton and have a head filled with clay. No, Albert, it is not like a toilet. Quite the reverse! This mat, when it’s unrolled, is holy ground.”
“Yet you plant your backside on it,” the boy observed. “That is a sorry act, and surely disrespectful to the sacred cloth.”
Scarlett gave a bleak half-smile. “It is not really so strange. When I sit upon it, I am in a state of grace.”
“So if I sat on it, would I be in a state of grace too?”
“No. You would be in a state of some discomfort, for I would beat you with a stick.