The Passion of Colm

Kildeoch sat upon a small mossy outcrop, far from the mainland and any sort of civilisation. There, lived eleven monks on the edge of the world, far from temptation and so I suppose, closer to God. They abstained from earthly pleasures like women and alcohol, whipped themselves for their sins and even took a vow of silence upon joining the monastery to deepen their connection to God.

Each day they rose with the sun and went about their duties; be it working the fields, milking the goats, chopping the wood. All in complete silence. Brother Eoghan looked after the bees. When it was time, he harvested the beeswax for the monastery’s candles, and the sweet, silky honey. Brother Colm couldn’t help but envy Brother Eoghan and his bees. Brother Colm ploughed the fields and weeded the crops. It wasn’t so much the back-breaking labour he disliked – in fact, he quite enjoyed physical suffering for his mortal sins.

No, what made Brother Colm jealous was the simple fact that he loved bees. He always had, they fascinated him. They flitted around frantically, tirelessly labouring for their honey. They were selfless, sacrificing themselves for the good of the hive. Their tiny world existed, with all its systems and social networks, totally unconscious of humans, or the great questions that plagued them. Hundreds of generations of bees had lived and died since he had arrived in the monastery and Brother Colm felt that how he saw the bees must be how God watched down upon us all, rushing around, living and dying, caught up within the limits of our own world.

And so he wished and pined to work the hives, just to be closer to those fantastic little creatures and watch them hurry about their lives. But it was not to be. Brother Eoghan had been in the monastery longer than Brother Colm – he couldn’t say by how long, but judging by what remained of his grey wisping hair and deep-set wrinkles it could have been many years. Brother Colm could not usurp this man’s position – he respected those monks older than him, they had a life of piousness that he would have to work years more to achieve. In any case, Brother Colm knew it was a sin to want the job as he did and it filled him with tremendous guilt – guilt that he dutifully punished.

Despite everything, whenever Brother Eoghan took to the hives, Brother Colm couldn’t help but watch from the corner of his eye. He watched with such earnest that he began to notice whenever Brother Eoghan harvested the honey he would disappear for a few hours, and wouldn’t be seen anywhere in the monastery. Weeks turned to months and Brother Colm kept noticing Brother Eoghan’s absence, and as time passed Brother Colm’s curiosity grew, until one day it got the better of him and he decided to follow the old monk.

Brother Colm spotted Brother Eoghan at the beehives and he set down his hoe, determined to investigate. Brother Eoghan slipped around the monastery’s granite walls and glided down towards the coast, his robes fluttering in the Atlantic wind. Brother Colm followed at a distance but Brother Eoghan soon vanished down a pass that led to the sea. Brother Colm picked up his robes and ran, eager to discover the reason behind all this.

Brother Colm hurried into the pass but couldn’t see the monk anywhere. Suddenly, he heard the sound of clinking pots from somewhere above. He stopped running and glanced up at the rocks. He slowly and carefully climbed up the rocks and discovered a small cave embedded into the cliff face. Brother Colm stepped inside the cave and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he found himself face-to-face with Brother Eoghan who had a jar of mead at his lips, and many more littered around the cave.

The two monks stared at each other in shocked silence. Brother Eoghan slowly lowered the jar of mead and cautiously offered it to Brother Colm. But instead of accepting it, Brother Colm’s face contorted in anger, his silence preventing him from expressing how deeply outraged he was. He spun around and rushed back to the monastery to expose this trespass against God, the other monks, and most importantly, the bees. He ran to the Abbot gasping, and coaxed him into following him back to the cave.

Brother Colm and the Abbot climbed up the rocks and peered into the cave but found nothing inside – no mead, no honey, and no Brother Eoghan. The Abbot gave Brother Colm a confused look as he jumped around to convey the grievous offence that had taken place. They walked back to the monastery, and Brother Colm searched for Brother Eoghan. Eventually, he found him apparently deep in prayer in the church. He led the Abbot to him and shook the old monk’s shoulder to rouse him from his prayer. Brother Eoghan feigned indignant confusion as Brother Colm motioned him to the Abbot. Brother Eoghan and the Abbot looked at one another and scornfully turned back to Brother Colm. It was no use. Brother Eoghan would never confess, and the Abbot would never understand. Embarrassment set in at the scene he had just created and how he appeared to the Abbot. Brother Colm abruptly turned and rushed off leaving the older monks standing shaking their heads.

The next few months were torturous for Brother Colm. He seethed at the injustice and deception of Brother Eoghan. He watched the pot-bellied, balding monk like a hawk but Brother Eoghan never put a foot wrong. Brother Eoghan was aware of Brother Colm’s watchful eye and would occasionally give him a sideways glance to let him know. This continued for weeks, anger festered inside Brother Colm. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t pray, all he could think about was a way to expose Brother Eoghan. One night as he tossed in his bed he heard footsteps from outside his room. His eyes shot open. He thought they must be Brother Eoghan for who else would be moving around deceitfully in the night? He jumped quietly out of bed and cracked open the door to see the corner of a robe disappear around the corner. His heart raced and he edged out of the door quietly, following the padding footsteps out of the monastery.

Brother Colm followed the dark figure carefully this time. He planned to find where Brother Eoghan was stashing the mead so he could expose him the following day. The grass was wet with dew and shone with a spectral sheen, white waves in the night breeze. Brother Colm glimpsed a hood further down the track and continued following it. He found himself in the pass where the first cave had been. He looked on but couldn’t see Brother Eoghan. He slowly advanced down the path, scanning for clues until he saw it – a wet footstep upon a rock. Brother Colm followed the footsteps up the rocks very quietly, and deliberately, not wanting to alert Brother Eoghan. The footsteps brought him along a ledge which swung out to face the ocean, where the moon hung suspended over the shimmering sea. He heard a scuffling noise from the rockface ahead and hugged himself against the cliff. He edged closer, quiet as possible and gingerly peeked into the cavern. Brother Colm stared dumbfounded into the cavern. He took a step back in shock but his foot slipped on the narrow ledge. He tried to grab for the cliff wall but his fingertips couldn’t grasp the smooth rock. He fell backwards and tumbled down the rocks, some twenty feet. He fell, thumping against each boulder on the way down. He landed in a heap and looked at his arm, twisted and bent in such unnatural ways. Brother Colm let out an almighty shriek that resounded across the island. He let fly, screaming curses and all manner of unholy words before he caught himself and realised what he had done. He began to sob and looked up to God for forgiveness, but all he saw were two pairs of eyes looking down at him from the ledge above.