Schiller: The Monks' Goat

The ease of listening (AI audio) to Substack posts is making me want to post everything I’ve written here, just to listen to it myself as conveniently as possible. So here’s my short novel Schiller: The Monks’ Goat, a kind of dramatization of the Benedict Option, suitable to be read to children of, say, 9 years or older. (Mine listened to it as young as six.) It’s on Amazon and many other distributors. $4.00 for a print copy from Amazon if you’re looking for birthday or Christmas presents suitable for wholesome Christian families.

1. The Goat from Switzerland

Schiller was a big goat. Jimmy looked down over the fence at the other goats. But Schiller looked over the fence at Jimmy. 

“Wow,” said Jimmy. 

“Yeah,” agreed Father Alexis. “He's a special goat. Farmer Orloff imported him all the way from Switzerland.”

“Just to donate him to the monastery?” asked Jimmy. 

“No,” said Father Alexis. “It was one of his projects. But Schiller turned out to be a little too much for him to handle. But we can handle him, can't we, Jimmy?”

“Yeah!” shouted Jimmy. 

“Gimme ten!” said Father Alexis. He spread out his hands, and Jimmy slapped them. 

Just then Schiller jumped on a table. Jimmy laughed. “He likes climbing!” said Jimmy.

“Well, Switzerland is full of mountains,” said Father Alexis. “But I think we'd better find another home for that table.”

Jimmy helped Father Alexis move the table to another part of the barn, then went home and dreamed of goats leaping on Swiss mountains. 

2. The Goat Keeper’s Helper 

When Jimmy’s family first came to live near the monastery, he was afraid of the monks, with their strange black cassocks and long solemn prayers. 

But then he met the animals, and especially the goats, and Father Alexis, the goat keeper. Then Father Alexis invited Jimmy to help him take care of the goats. Now Jimmy wasn't afraid of the monks at all. 

Every day, he would come help Father Alexis with the milking. At first, he was slow, and the milking does would finish their grain and then look at him impatiently, and sometimes stamp and kick to be released from the milking stand. Father Alexis had to start, when the teats were tight with milk, and to finish, when the teats were almost dry. But after a few weeks, Jimmy could milk goats all by himself, and was almost as fast as Father Alexis. 

After milking, they would put hay in the feeders, then walk around the pasture, petting the goats and feeding them treats and making sure they were all healthy and happy. And Schiller was the healthiest and happiest of them all, full of fun and the spirit of adventure. 

3. Making Cheese

Sometimes, Father Methodius, who ran the bookstore, would stop by after closing up, and say:

“We're almost out of cheese in the refrigerators. Can you boys make a new batch?”

And it would be cheese day again. So they would haul big, heavy milk cans into the kitchen, pour them into giant pots on the stove, and begin heating. Jimmy would stir, while Father Alexis would look at the wall, studying the little postcard-sized pictures painted by Father Luke to label the wrappers, which were taped to the wall, and the printed recipes, taped to the wall next to them. Some of the recipes had notes in pencil. Sometimes he would jot things down in a notebook and then go to the shelves or the refrigerators to check for certain ingredients.

It was more than an hour before the next step, which was to pour in the rennet. Now, the instructions came more quickly and Father Alexis stayed right next to the stove to help. The most fascinating part was watching the curds, gooey and stringy and white, coagulate out of the liquid. Father Alexis cut them with a knife and a ladle, then Jimmy stirred them some more.

After a couple of hours, they were ready to go into hot salt water, then more stirring, then into the cheese press. Father Alexis didn't need Jimmy's help after that, but sometimes he would lead Jimmy to the cheese press to show how he increased the pressure, and how the whey dripped out. Some batches of cheese were put into a closet to age, while others were sold fresh.

Father Alexis printed off the labels on the monastery's color printer, using whichever of Father Luke's paintings he had chosen, and below the picture, some whimsical name for the batch that Father Alexis made up out of his head. Jimmy helped put the labels on large sheets of clear plastic wrap, and wrapped up pieces of cheese that Father Alexis had cut.

He was amazed when he first saw the prices for the cheese in the glass-fronted refrigerators in the monastery bookstore. Father Alexis saw his amazement.

“Monastic marketing,” he said with a smile. “People would feel guilty paying so much for a luxury like this in a secular store. But when the profits support the monastery, they have a pretext.”

Another time, a man saw them putting cheese in the refrigerators, and asked Father Alexis, “Are you the cheese maker?”

“That's me,” said Father Alexis proudly. 

“Nikita Bayer shared some with me, after the last time he visited,” said the pilgrim. “It was delicious. You were selling it last fall. I can't remember the name…”

“‘A Hay Was Being Cut…’?” suggested Father Alexis.

“Yes, that was it,” said the pilgrim. “Do you have any of that kind?”

“It's all sold,” said Father Alexis with regret, “and I never make the same cheese twice. But I think this one turned out pretty well too. It's tangy, more salty than usual, and a little sour. It reminded me of the sea.” 

The pilgrim looked at the cheeses in the refrigerator. They had Father Luke's painting of a splendid old ship, its sails billowing in the wind, tilting as it climbed the side of a great bluish-green wave. Beneath the picture were the words “Mariner's Delight.” He took one.

“Get some to share,” said Father Alexis. “You don't want to tell people about it and not give them any. And you'll never get another chance.”

The pilgrim took three more. “But don't you write the recipes down?” asked the pilgrim. 

“Recipes are inexact,” said Father Alexis, “and each batch of milk can have a bit different flavor, depending on which goats produced it, and what they were eating. I like to bring out the best in each batch of milk. I cook--” and here he lifted his hands and waved his fingers in an artistic ecstasy, and his eyes looked into the distance-- “by inspiration.”

The pilgrim laughed. “Well, keep up the good work, maestro.”

4. The New Pasture

Four of the monastery's eight does had kidded that year, while four were in milk from the year before. There were five bucklings, Chip, Cloudy, Stuart, Butterbur and Leland, and four doelings, Nell, Morning, Marigold and Strawberry. Chip and Strawberry were brother and sister, and their mother was the herd queen. 

One day, Jimmy and Father Alexis set up electric fencing around a big new pasture. Father Alexis walked through the tall grass, unrolling the fencing and dropping fence posts at intervals, and Jimmy stood them up and drove them into the ground. When the new pasture was safely fenced, they opened the big gate to the little pasture by the barn, and let the goats out. 

The goats were wary of the new pasture at first. Except for Schiller. He bounded out over the grass at once. But no one dared to run with Schiller. After a few minutes, Chip and Strawberry’s mother led the way. The does followed, but some of the kids held back. 

Chip was the most afraid. He stayed at the edge, watched fearfully, then turned around, ran back to the barn, and flopped in the hay, lonely and frightened. Chip’s mother, with Strawberry following, went into the barn and tried again to lead Chip into the pasture, but the same thing happened. The third time, Chip’s mother made Strawberry stay in the barn with Chip, while she went out to the pasture to eat grass and leaves, so her body could make milk for her babies. 

The new pasture extended over the edge of a hill, and down the slope, towards a gully. On the slope opposite were the monastery gardens, behind a stone wall, all in neat rows. Jimmy sometimes stopped to admire them. Schiller was at his side, admiring them too. Little did Jimmy know what Schiller had in mind. 

5. Sehnsucht

As May gave way to June, as spring gave way to summer, every day was better than the last. Jimmy kept making discoveries. 

Baby toads in the grass. The way the sun lit up the rolling clouds. The soft music of crickets in the night. The changing colors of the leaves as they went from pale new green to the full, lush shades of summer. 

Each impression struck him with wonder, the first time he noticed it, really noticed it, and then came back again and again and again, like an old friend, undiminished. It was strange to him that he could bear so full a world, but the impressions did not really tax or weary him, though at times he felt spent, but gave him strength to live in it, fortifying and enlarging his capacity for wonder so that he could pay a little, a very little, of the debt of admiration that every man owes to the world for being so beautiful. 

The songs of larks. The fronds of young ferns. The deep, solemn shade beneath the solemn, changeless pines as the glad, gentle world all about clad itself in the sweet, merry raiment of spring. The music of the brook as it stole out of the meadow into the shade of the leaves. All precious, all full of delight. 

And the aspens. Atop the hill overlooking the goat pasture they stood, white trunks and tender green leaves silhouetted against the sky, which twinkled and rustled with a haunting, tender music in so light a breeze that no other trees even noticed it. What wild longing that sound stirred in Jimmy’s heart! But a longing for what? 

He had often had thoughts he could not put into words. Now he had feelings he could not put into thoughts. He was not merely happy. The glad abundance of nature that enfolded them filled him with contentment, yes, but also with a wild, merry discontent. As if nature was a dance, but he could not dance. He felt left out.

Will I make it clearer if I say that he longed to be the gusts caressing the singing leaves, to be the wind and water woven into billowing clouds, to be the gentle stream meandering through the meadows, and feeding the flowers with its waters, and mirroring them as they tossed their heads in the breeze? Surely not! I should seem mad even if I were to say that he wanted to feast on the sweet meadow grasses with the goats.

At any rate, for all his gratitude and joy, his heart grew ever more turbulent with inarticulate and impossible longings, until he felt it would burst. 

6. The Bell

At last, there came a day when a sudden wind swept away all Jimmy's self-control, and in the midst of his chores he sprang up and bounded through the fields and over the hills like Schiller the goat, until he came to the grove of aspens as it swayed and tumbled in the summer wind, with a sound like waves and waterfalls. 

Perhaps he excused himself first to Father Alexis, with whom he had been working side by side, with a quick “Just a minute,” or something like that. If he did, neither of them noticed it. His flight was as abrupt as a poetic passion, and Father Alexis followed him, slowly, marveling. 

He came to the top of the hill and saw Jimmy gazing up at the leaves, in a trance. Whether they stood there ten minutes or two hours, no one knows, and in a sense, it doesn't matter, for the best moments of a redeemed life are written down in the eternal book and last forever. All his life afterward, Jimmy could take one step in his imagination and be back there on the hill, by the aspen grove, and feel the wind, and see the sunlight twinkle on the singing leaves, and hear the waves and waterfalls of their music.

Then, at last, the bells rang out, carrying their music and their message over hills and fields and through corridors and courtyards and forests, calling the monks to Compline. And a sudden peace fell over Jimmy's soul, and he understood that while he could not be the wind in the aspen leaves or the clouds lit up in the light of sunset or the meadow or the springtime, he could be at one with the Maker of all these things. The bell had subdued them, had revealed in a moment the divine order in which all joys had their place and were in harmony, for they were all, like the bell, calling him to church, calling him to be one with God, Who had made them all for his delight, to enjoy forever. And he said aloud:

“It seems as if I've been hearing that bell all my life.”

“Are you coming to church?” ask Father Alexis. 

7. The Beggar

Jimmy scarcely seemed to hear, yet he turned from the aspen grove and began walking towards the church. He was lost among strange paths of his own thoughts, yet Father Alexis felt it was urgent to meet him there and declare his sympathy, though he hardly knew how.

“I think I know how you feel,” he said. “When I was your age, the name of Jesus struck me like that. My parents were hippies, and didn't like churches, but there were Christian kids at school, and liberal atheists, and people were always debating about politics, and sex, and science, and God, and everyone seemed to disapprove of everyone else, and I was wretched with confusion about how I ought to live. But one thing I kept noticing was that all of them admired this man Jesus. My parents, the Christian kids at school, the liberals, everyone. 

“So one day I decided to try to imitate Jesus, to live as much like Jesus did as I possibly could. Then a strange thing happened. The name of Jesus suddenly became like beautiful music to me, and I said it to myself all day long whenever I could, just Jesus, Jesus, Jesus all day long, and every time I said it, I felt perfectly happy. It was crazy, because I didn't really know much about Jesus. I didn't even know that he was God. I thought he was just a brave, kind man, who loved everybody and preached peace. Then finally I opened the Bible, and most of what I read there seemed harsh and strange, and I was miserable again, because Jesus was everything I had, my only comfort. Sometimes I turned back to the world, and lived like other people, but that seemed empty and sad. So I'd come back to the Bible, find something I understood, and try to live by it. And a few words that I did understand, like turn the other cheek, and think not for the morrow, and the love of money is the root of all evil, were precious to me, like beautiful jewels

“I decided never to marry, because Jesus never married. Jesus seemed not to have any property, and he taught that the love of money is the root of all evil, so I tried to have no property, and to handle money as little as I could. Jesus wandered, so I wandered.” He laughed. “I was a beggar on the streets of four great cities at one time or another, just trying to be meek and to think not for the morrow. I don't recommend it, yet I think it was good for me. I learned much of human kindness from strangers who gave me a little money or food, without a hope of ever getting anything back, except that God will remember their almsgiving at Judgment Day. And to those good people who looked away in shame and disgust when they saw me, or who walked to the other side of the street to get away from my smell, I owe what little humility I possess. 

“My only possession was a little Bible, and I read it a hundred times, until I was so desperate to understand it that I started lurking in the backs of churches and eavesdropping to see if they could help. There I learned that this world is dying, but is about to be reborn. And so my heart desired to die to this dying world, and live in the resurrected Christ. And after many more strange paths, I found a place where I could do that, here. And through it all, the name of Jesus went with me, comforting and blessing and leading me. When I was cold, I said the name of Jesus and felt warm. When I was hungry, I said the name of Jesus and felt full. When I was afraid, I said the name of Jesus and knew that I need not fear, for nothing could harm me. The name of Jesus rang in my heart like a bell, and it's still ringing, blowing away the smoke of worries and troubles, and showing me that everything is good.”

“Everything is good?” asked Jimmy, who seemed to have been half-listening, trying and wanting to listen even as he was preoccupied with his own thoughts.

“Everything is good,” agreed Father Alexis. “God made it, so how could it not be good?”

But Father Alexis was not sure he had succeeded in making his sympathy felt, so he tried something different.

“I think I know what you mean,” he said, “about having heard that bell ring all your life. There's an old story, about how the moon and the stars and all the heavenly bodies make beautiful music as they move through the heavens, and that music is all around us and penetrates the whole world, only we cannot hear it, simply because we are so accustomed to it that we tune it out. They called it ‘the music of the spheres,’ and I think it was once considered a kind of fact of physics, though physicists no longer believe it today. But it was plausible as a scientific hypothesis because it's a theological truth. God sings to us through everything that exists, and creation is a great harmonious symphony of song, but we let the noise of this world and its foolish cares, and our own lawless passions, drown out the song. But if for once the noise of our restless souls is stilled, we hear the music of the spheres again, and know that it was always with us.”

By this time, they had reached the church, and as Jimmy listen to the chanting and the harmonious singing of the monks in the dim, candlelit church, it seemed it to him that the music of the spheres, the perfect song of creation, the voice of God, was in their voices.

8. In the Garden

As Jimmy’s soul was filling up with high, poetic yearnings for the singing aspen grove, Schiller’s soul was filling up with poetic yearnings for the monks’ garden. One day, in early summer, he got his chance.

It was the day when Father Alexis and Jimmy discovered the wild strawberries. The field was full of them, little red sweet gems dangling under the leaves. Soon they were lying down and gathering and munching and closing their eyes in ecstasies of sweetness. Their attention had wandered from the grazing goats, when Schiller hopped on a stump and leaped out of the pasture. He was headed for the garden. 

Jimmy ran for help.

He told Father Methodius, who apologized to seven pilgrims who were browsing books and CDs, but he said he had to close the bookstore for an hour. When he said why, the pilgrims laughed, and came with him to watch or help. 

He told Father Anfim, who was feeding chickens. Father Anfim came running. 

He told Father Theophil, who was writing church music on a computer. Father Theophil came running. 

He told Father Justin, who was mowing the grass, and Father Kevin, who was cleaning cow stalls, and Father Dunstan, who was building furniture, and Father Cyril, who was trying to fix a pilgrim’s car. All of them went running for the garden, grabbing other monks they met on the way, and bringing them along, and the pilgrims followed, too. 

9. The Chase

Soon there were monks in the raspberries, monks in the cabbages, monks in the broccoli, monks in the beans, monks in the carrots, monks and pilgrims in the carrots and the eggplant, and the abbot and Father Alexis in the Brussels sprouts. And in the middle of it all, joyfully gorging himself on lettuce, was Schiller. 

“We have him surrounded,” shouted Father Alexis to the monks and pilgrims throughout the great monastery gardens. “Close in slowly. Catch him if you can, but above all, don't let him get past you.” And so the monks began to tighten the circle. 

Then Schiller looked up and all around him, got an expression of a kind of merry alarm in his intrepid face, and began to leap about. Father Ignatius made a lunge for him but he slipped through his arms. Father Dunstan and Father Sava each missed him, then Father Seraphim caught him for a moment but couldn't hold on. 

A few monks tried to encircle Schiller again, but there was a large gap where Father Dunstan had been. Schiller made a break for it. Father Leo made a last desperate grab, lunging headlong after the running goat and falling flat, so that not only his cassock but his face was covered with mud! Schiller was free, and running for the high garden wall, as if he planned to leap over it. 

But Father Jeremiah had brought a rope with him from the cow barn, and made it into a lasso. His first throw missed, but the ring of rope sailed forth again, further this time, fell round Schiller’s neck, and pulled tight.

Jimmy ran to Schiller in distress, but he wasn't hurt. 

10. The Triumphal Parade

The monks had enjoyed chasing Schiller, and they were in a frolicsome, hilarious mood. Everyone cheered for Father Jeremiah, who gave a speech.

"I always dreamed of being a cowboy!" he cried. "I used to practice with a lasso. I've still got it!" More cheers.

They began assessing the damage.

"The beans are ruined," reported Father Andrew. Schiller had leaped through the string trellises full of climbing bean vines that Father Paul had carefully made, knocking them all down.

"And half the lettuce," said Father Luke.

"We may have short rations this summer," said the abbot. "Some of us," he added mysteriously, "will benefit." People who knew him well thought he meant himself. He always aspired to more asceticism than he achieved

But Father Boniface, who was fat, and who specialized in humorous self-deprecation, pretended the words were meant for him. He slapped his great belly twice like a drum, then declared in his booming bass voice: "Father Alexis, give Schiller my thanks for the opportunity for greater fasting!" All the monks cheered.

"And for a fine chase!" added Father Leo. Louder cheers.

"That is one magnificent goat!" shouted Father Paul. Even louder cheers and yells of approval from all sides. 

Father Alexis looked grateful and relieved. He had been afraid his brothers would be angry with him, but their merrymaking proved to him that they were not. And that, in fact, was the secret purpose of the merrymaking.

But one of the pilgrims looked worried. "If the monastery needs help--" he began.

"No, no!" said the abbot. "Not because of this! We're just joking. But if you can, glory to God!"

“Well, shall we lead him home?” asked Father Alexis. 

All the monks and pilgrims followed close behind as Father Alexis led Schiller back to his pen, then cheered as he closed the gate.

11. The Apprentice Farmer

After that, Schiller mostly stayed in his pen, unless he was on a rope. Jimmy felt sorry for him, but Father Alexis said, "We'd have to contain him soon anyway. If he were running with the does while he's in rut, it would affect the flavor of the milk. And he'll be busy."

In the late summer, farmers began coming to visit. Some of them drove four, five, or even six hours to introduce their does to Schiller. While Father Alexis worked with the does, the farmers would talk to Jimmy.

When they saw how his eyes shone with curiosity, they would ask him, "Are you going to be a farmer when you grow up?" And he would answer, "Of course! Definitely!" So they would tell him everything they could think of that might help him.

He learned about cover crops, and insect traps,  and varieties of blueberries and raspberries and strawberries, and pruning, and how to protect young apple trees from apple borers, and how to grow mushrooms, and which were the best brands of tractors, and how to build greenhouses, how to distinguish "firsts" from "seconds" when sorting vegetables for sale, and much more.


12. The Unwelcome Pilgrim

The next time Schiller got into trouble was on the feast of Dormition.

The church was full of pilgrims, solemn and well-dressed and praying joyfully. Near the beginning of Liturgy, one of the doors was propped open so that latecomers could slip in and mothers with crying babies could step out.

Then, while Father Theophil was singing, "Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth," a face peered through the church door that wasn't meek at all! This pilgrim had a short beard, a long brown face, long ears, and a white stripe down his nose. The monks didn't see Schiller, but some of the pilgrims did, and a few even giggled.

Fortunately, Schiller didn't come into the church. But when everyone exited it, the first thing they saw was Schiller, in the middle of the courtyard, merrily feasting on Father Benedict's roses!

Schiller was easier to catch this time, but the damage was worse. Aside from the roses, Schiller had eaten the bark off of three young peach trees planted that spring by Father Gregory, so they could not survive. Worst of all, Schiller had disrupted the solemnity of a great feast of the Church, and created an impression on pilgrims of disorder and lack of discipline in the monastery. So Father Alexis had a meeting with the abbot behind closed doors, and came out of it worried.

"We have to figure out how Schiller got out of his pen," Father Alexis told Jimmy.

They went to the pen and looked and looked and looked. Finally Father Alexis said, "I can't see how he did it, except just jump. He can jump higher than we thought. We'll have to build the fence higher."

13. The Fence Builder

The next morning at breakfast, Jimmy told his mother, “I have to go over to the monastery early today. We have to build a higher fence for Schiller.”

His mother looked unhappy. “Hmm…” she said. “I was hoping you'd do schoolwork.”

“Not today,” said Jimmy. “I can't.”

“Hmm…” said his mother again. “You know, Jimmy, I've been letting you spend every day with Father Alexis and the goats because it was summer. And because--” She was about to say, because I've been looking after your sister, but thought better of it. “But now other kids are in school. I want to teach you algebra and US history. And I want you to practice writing. I don't want you to fall behind.”

“But I can't do it today,” insisted Jimmy. “If we don't build a higher fence for Schiller so that he can't escape, the abbot is going to make Father Alexis sell him.”

Jimmy’s mother wasn't quite ready to give up. “It's always something,” she said quietly. She was planning to yield today if Jimmy asked nicely one more time, and be firm tomorrow. 

“Mom, I don't need to know algebra and US history anyway!” Jimmy said loudly. “I'm going to be a monk like Father Alexis.” His tone of voice was a little bit angry, and a little bit ugly. 

Jimmy’s father had been looking for jobs on the internet, which always made him sad and tired. But he had been paying more attention to the conversation than to the computer, and now he joined it. “Maybe Jimmy needs to study the Bible more than algebra, especially the part where it says, ‘Honor thy father and thy mother.’” He looked sternly at Jimmy. 

Then, to Jimmy’s mother, he added, “Dear, how about I go help Father Alexis in Jimmy’s place? I'm not accomplishing anything here. I'm out of ideas. It would be so nice to do some work. And it sounds like they're in a tight spot.”

After an exchange of worried glances, she said, “All right.” So Jimmy stayed home and studied algebra that day. 

Jimmy’s father was gone at lunchtime. He was gone at dinnertime. Jimmy’s bedtime came, and his father was still not home. But he was still awake, lying quietly in bed, when he heard the door open, and his father's voice. 

“Ah, that was wonderful! It was so nice to be doing real work again. Hammering and sawing. Out under the open sky, with lazy clouds straying by, and fresh breezes cooling the sweat on your face and dancing in the treetops. And to see something accomplished by the end of the day! It was wonderful.”

“So you got a lot done?” asked Jimmy’s mother. 

“We drove new, taller posts into the ground and put boards between them. Now the fence is eight feet tall. It sounds makeshift but it looks pretty good. Ah, I could do that kind of work forever! I could do it my whole life and never get bored. Glory to God!”

After that, Jimmy looked every day at the fence his father had built, and felt proud. 

14. Evangelism

By the beginning of fall, when that exciting chill could be felt in the early morning, and the first splashes of color stained the leaves, business was booming for Schiller. Three or four times a week a farmer would come with a doe to be bred. 

Already, Jimmy knew enough that sometimes he could give knowledge back. Then he would say, “I heard that…” and “... What do you think?” to avoid offending old farmers’ professional pride, and make them want to keep talking and teaching. 

Jimmy came to see Father Alexis a little later in the afternoon now, because he was studying hard, to please his mother, and give her one less thing to worry about. He studied algebra and US history and science and the Bible, and read writers like Mark Twain and C.S. Lewis and George Orwell, sometimes for seven or eight hours a day. His mother let him include an agriculture textbook and three books about goats in his studies. He got up very early so he'd have plenty of daylight to visit Father Alexis and Schiller.

The farmers with does were usually impressed by the monastery, and asked questions, and sometimes they began talking about serious matters, about their lives, and God, and what to teach children, and church history, and honesty in business, and who goes to heaven when they die, and the resurrection of Jesus.

Father Alexis never stopped these conversations if the farmers wanted to keep talking, not even to go to Compline, so Jimmy sometimes had to do the chores by himself. He didn't know why, but nothing in his life had ever made him feel so proud and excited as being trusted by Father Alexis to handle the chores by himself, while Father Alexis and some farmer talked about God. 

One farmer talked with Father Alexis for three hours, then called his wife and told her he wouldn't be home for chores, then talked for three hours more. He slept in the monastery, then drove away, but said he'd be back soon.

15. Farmer Orloff

Farmer Orloff came to church every Sunday and, along with Jimmy’s father, was always the tallest man there. He didn't dress as nicely as the pilgrims did, and looked a bit rustic. He didn't usually stay afterwards to eat or talk. 

But one week he greeted Father Alexis, and asked, “Can I see that famous goat of mine?” Then, correcting himself, “I mean, of yours?”

So Father Alexis and Jimmy led Farmer Orloff to Schiller’s pen. “Behold the king of goats!” announced Father Alexis grandly. 

“Yes,” laughed Farmer Orloff, “A splendid beast! The most valuable goat in the state, for sure. He's doing well, I hear.”

“Yes, very busy,” confirmed Father Alexis. “He's earning his keep now.” Then he added mysteriously, “In more ways than one.”

“I've been putting in a good word for you,” said Farmer Orloff.

“I know,” said Father Alexis. “Your good word is my whole marketing operation.”

“I think his bloodline’s gonna revive the whole industry. You should take him to one of the fairs this fall,” advised Farmer Orloff. “Show him off!” And then he told him about how various individual farmers might be persuaded to buy doelings, and how to sell milk to stores, and who might have a top-of-the-line cheese press to sell. Father Alexis talked business with Farmer Orloff for a long time, until his brain hurt from trying to remember all the good advice. 

“He seems a little sad to me,” said Jimmy to Father Alexis, after Farmer Orloff left. “Do you think he regrets that he gave Schiller to the monastery?” Jimmy would have regretted giving Schiller away if he had been Farmer Orloff.

“No, it's not that,” said Father Alexis. “He's just lonely. He wanted one of his four sons to stay at his farm and carry on the work, or maybe someone that one of his daughters married. But they all went to college and then moved to cities. He even built a second house on his land for one of them to live in, but it's empty now. They come visit, but it's not the same. Then his wife died three years ago. He works as hard as ever, but he doesn't have the strength for it now, not really. I think he feels less lonely when he's working. But sometimes he gets hurt, and he won't take doctor's orders.”

Jimmy felt sorry for him. 

16. The New Boy 

That day, at the common meal, there was a boy at the next table that Jimmy didn't remember seeing before. His short dark brown hair was parted and kind of slicked up and back in a way Jimmy thought was neat, and he wore a black leather jacket. 

Father Philip was reading from The Life of Saint Symeon the Stylite, and the couple sitting next to the boy, probably his parents, were listening with a kind of fierce joy, like warriors winning a battle. Jimmy thought he dimly recalled the man's face, though he wasn't sure when he had seen it before. The woman was well known at the monastery. As a pilgrim early in the summer, she had made an impression by attending every service for two weeks weeping, and kissing every single one of the dozens of icons in the church before and after each service. 

They weren't paying attention to the boy, so he was free to look around. He made eye contact with Jimmy, and Jimmy smiled in greeting. He leaned across somehow and whispered, “Do you live near here?”

“Yes,” Jimmy whispered back.

“Are you home schooled?” 

“We're not supposed to talk,” said Jimmy. 

From the grin the boy gave him then, back in his seat, Jimmy thought he knew they weren't supposed to talk, and that was part of the fun. 

17. Speak of the Devil

Jimmy wanted to continue the conversation, so he sought out the boy after the meal. His name was Vinny. His family had moved to the area a few weeks before. 

“Do you like it here?” asked Vinny, in a bored tone. 

“Oh yes!” said Jimmy. “It's the nicest place in the whole world. I'll stay here forever if I can!”

“Well, I don't like it here,” said Vinny. “It's a stupid place to live.” He seemed to lose interest in the conversation, and started drifting away, kicking stones. But Jimmy waited, and Vinny, having nowhere to go, came back, and picked up the conversation where he had left it. 

“Three years ago,” he explained, “my parents started going to church too much, and they kind of went crazy. They started thinking the devil was at work everywhere in the city. Finally, they got so scared, they ran away and came here, and now we live in the woods.”

Then Vinny raised his hands and bent and waved his fingers in a spooky way. “They're so scared of the devil,” he said, and added, “Wooooooooo…” in a ghostly howling voice. The monastery's walls seemed to frown. 

“I don't think you should joke about the devil,” said Jimmy. 

“Whatever,” said Vinny. Jimmy thought Vinny didn't like him very much. Still, as if to erase his joke about the devil, he changed his story. “My parents thought if I stayed in school, I'd do drugs and end up going to jail.”

“Do you think you would have?” asked Jimmy. 

“Maybe,” answered Vinny, in an easy, carefree tone. 

Jimmy couldn't help admiring a boy whom even the thought of jail couldn't frighten. 

18. Following Vinny

Vinny was an angry boy, but he was brave and clever, and Jimmy wanted to be his friend. He stopped going to Father Alexis quite so often, and followed Vinny whenever he got the chance. 

One day, on an old staircase that led to a cracking parking lot below the abandoned school in the little town near the monastery, Vinny started doing skateboard stunts. He slid down the railing on his skateboard, then set up a ramp to do jumps. Vinny tried to teach Jimmy how, but he wasn't very good. Jimmy took some falls, and wore long sleeves for a week to hide the bruises. 

Another day, Vinny and Jimmy climbed trees in the park, with the help of Jimmy’s parents’ ladder. They went up very high, where the branches swayed in the wind, and people’s heads far below looked very small, and they could see the great blue river, and the splendid autumn forests with their blazing colors rolling with the hills to the horizon, and the steeples of churches in neighboring towns. Jimmy thought it was very dangerous, and he didn't tell his mother about it until a neighbor asked where he and another boy had been taking the ladder. 

Another day, Vinny took some rope from the monastery barn, and a tire from a neighbor's yard, and they made a tire swing by a deep part of the creek. To make it, Vinny had to climb a tree with almost no low branches, then slither out on a long dead branch, far, far, till he was over deep water. Jimmy was frightened just watching him. They swung and spun and spun and swung, then finally they began jumping, though it was colder than one liked for swimming. When he got home, Jimmy managed to slip through the basement door and change his wet clothes before he said hello to his mother. He never asked Vinny whether he had had permission to take the rope, or the tire. 

19. The Hike

Jimmy was getting worried. He was afraid Vinny would keep making him doing things that made him uncomfortable, and that his parents would stop letting him play with Vinny. 

But the next time he saw Vinny, Vinny knocked on the door and said very respectfully to Jimmy’s mother, “Good afternoon, Mrs. Rusk. How are you doing?” Jimmy was glad Vinny knew how to make a good impression on adults when he wanted to.

She invited him in, and he took off his hat politely. After some pleasant chitchat, he asked, “Is it all right if Jimmy and I hike to the top of the ridge? We'll be back before dark.”

And so they walked through a forest ablaze with fall colors as a warm sunny day waned into a cool clear evening. Then the trees broke, and the views spread out beneath them for miles and miles, and they sat for a while, taking it all in. And then they talked. 

“Did you go to school before, when you lived in the city?” asked Vinny. 

“Yeah,” said Jimmy. 

“Did you like it?”

“I hated it. I hated school almost as much as my dad hated his city job.”

“Did your dad get fired?” Vinny asked. 

Jimmy’s face flushed with anger. “No!” he said. “He was good at his job. His boss said that if he changed his mind about moving to the countryside within nine months, he'd hire him back. But this time, he’d have to commit.” Then he added, “That was in May.”

“And he still hasn't found a job here?” asked Vinny. 

“No.” Jimmy’s voice quavered. 

“Oh,” said Vinny. He understood. And he turned and looked at Jimmy with eyes of concern and sympathy, so Jimmy finally knew that Vinny really was his friend after all.

“Why did he leave his job if he didn't get fired?” Vinny asked. “Just because he didn't like it?”

“No,” said Jimmy. “My parents had talked about coming to live out here for a long time. But they finally came because my sister was sick. My mom thought she could pray for her better in the monastery.”

Jimmy thought Vinny smirked. “How'd that work out?” Vinny asked. “Did your sister recover?” 

Jimmy didn't like that question, because he thought Vinny knew that his sister was still very sick. But he said, “She lived through the worst of it, which we'd hardly dared to hope for. But she's still in pain, and she can't walk for more than a few minutes a day. It's very complicated for my mom to keep track of all the medicines. And we don't know how it will turn out in the end.”

Vinny seemed to remember something, and he said, “The monks say a lot of prayers for her in church, don't they?”

“Yeah,” said Jimmy. 

Vinny was silent for a while. “Well, I guess that's worth it,” he said. He seemed serious.

Then he changed the subject. “Why didn't you like school? Just boring?”

“I was bored, but mostly I was afraid,” said Jimmy. “I was afraid of bullies, and teachers, and also of yucky things, of the kids talking all the time about…” But he didn't know how to say what it was he didn't like the kids talking about, and he didn't want to try. So instead he said, “The kids at school would always make fun of me, and sometimes beat me up.”

“Hmm,” Vinny grunted. “Well, I liked school. I mean, I didn't like the teachers, or the homework, or the exams, or the rules. But I liked my friends, and I liked being cool, and I liked being the best skateboarder in the school. I miss being cool.”

20. What Can He Do?

Jimmy had wanted to introduce Vinny to Schiller ever since they met. But he was afraid that Vinny wouldn't want to come, and that if he did, he wouldn't be impressed. But the day after the hike, he mustered his courage.

“You should come meet Schiller,” said Jimmy.

“All right,” said Vinny. 

When they got to Schiller's pen, he seemed sad. Jimmy didn't think he was sad because he had missed Jimmy. He thought he was sad because he missed being outdoors, and the sun, and running and jumping, and being free, and mischievous adventures. When he saw how sad Schiller was, he didn't think Vinny would be impressed, and Vinny wasn't.

“What can he… do?” asked Vinny after a few polite pets.

“He can run and jump, almost like a deer,” said Jimmy. 

From the look on Vinny’s face, Jimmy might as well have said that Schiller couldn't do anything.

“Maybe he could carry some kind of pack,” suggested Vinny. “You know, like for a hike in the woods. Can you take him for a walk in the woods?”

“I've never tried,” said Jimmy, feeling lame. Then something desperate stirred in him, and with a feeling like a man diving into water from a high cliff, he said, “Let's try it.”

21. In the Forest

They climbed into the pen, and found two ropes that they put around Schiller's neck. They each held one. Then they opened the gate, and walked out of the barn into the pasture. The grazing does looked up and stared.

As they walked, Schiller kept leaning left and right to grab and munch leafy limbs from bushes and tall weeds along the road. In so doing, he kept getting tangled up in the leads, and they had to untangle him. After another gate, the dirt road led out of the pasture into the woods.

Autumn was beginning to wane, but there was still lots of splendid color on the branches, all lit up in the slanting sun of the afternoon. The ground was crunchy with fallen leaves. It was beautiful from the beginning, but then they entered a certain golden wood, birches and maples intermingled, the canopy just thinned out enough to reveal blue sky and wispy clouds, but still rich with color, and the ground golden, too, and an enchantment fell upon them. 

All the while, Schiller had been looking about him jerkily, and Jimmy thought at first that he was afraid, perhaps of coyotes. But then Jimmy changed his mind, and felt that Schiller was simply happy, and was looking around in wonder at the wood, like Jimmy and Vinny themselves were. And as they enter the golden wood, the enchantment fell on Schiller too, and Jimmy found that he couldn't help but think of Schiller as a person.

What happened next was never satisfactorily explained. Wonder had stopped them in their tracks, and they stood there while, as the golden light filled their eyes, and their souls, when they realized that Schiller was free, and was walking slowly forward through the wood. Perhaps each of them had thought the other was holding on and he could safely let go. Perhaps the wood was magic.

22. The Free Beast 

Jimmy and Vinny looked at each other silently and fearfully. Then they began to walk forward very, very slowly. Their eyes were fixed on the two ropes hanging from Schiller's neck and dragging on the ground.

Just before they were close enough to lunge for the ropes, Schiller turned and looked at them, and stopped them in their tracks. They waited for a while to see what he would do. Then Jimmy begin to move forward again with an imperceptible slowness.

Suddenly, Schiller leaped up and began running. But he didn't run far, and he didn't run straight. He didn't seem to want to get away. But he might not want to be caught either. He was just enjoying himself, and the forest.

A strange, slow chase followed. The two boys walked slowly, trying not to provoke Schiller into running. Sometimes, they moved apart and approached from opposite sides, as if to cut Schiller off, but that wasn't a game they could succeed at with just two of them. Sometimes, they clambered over rocks. Once, they crosses a gully walking on a fallen tree. Often, a gust of wind would stir the topmost branches of the forest, not with the soft music of summer breezes, but the louder, clattering sound of leaves that were dry. And then a few leaves plucked by the wind would waft downward, weaving gently on the cool air. They came to a kingly old maple all ablaze in luxurious scarlet robes. Then they entered a stand of birches with trunks of silver and gold leaves of gold, all slender and graceful as maidens at a dance. And Schiller seem so at home in it all that the boys felt as if they were trespassing on his own private magical kingdom.

23. The Apple Glade

At last, the forest broke, and a small meadow spread out before them. On the other side of it was an enormous apple tree, rampant with fruit. Countless red globes dangled from every branch, and stained all the ground roundabout. With a casual dignity, Schiller walked up to it and began awkwardly, yet successfully, grabbing and breaking them with his lips and teeth. Sometimes he stood on his hind legs to reach them.

“Will that keep him busy for a while?” whispered Vinny.

“It might,” said Jimmy. “He loves apples.”

“We need to go back to the monastery and tell Father Alexis what happened,” whispered Vinny.

At those words, Jimmy began to cry. It had been building up in him all through the strange chase in the golden wood, a great ocean of remorse. The beauty of the wood, and the ever waning hope that he might catch Schiller and escape disgrace, had kept it at bay. With Vinny's words, which he knew were the terrible truth, he surrendered to defeat and despair. All of the blessed, innocent days he had spent out in the pasture on the hill, in the sun, watching Chip and Strawberry and Leland and Morning leap and tumble in the grass, the days when Father Alexis had trusted him, came back to him now as a thing infinitely precious but lost forever. Now only the terrible ordeal of confession lay before him, and beyond it, to be cast out, the goat keeper’s helper no longer.

As bitter, self-pitying tears poured down his cheeks, he saw Vinny looking at him, with an expression on his face, it seemed to Jimmy, of contempt and disgust. And so he tried with all his might to stop the tears from flowing, but he could not. Vinny's contempt only deepened his despair.

“Maybe only one of us should go back,” Jimmy managed to say, hoping to postpone seeing Father Alexis face to face. “The other can keep an eye on him.”

“No,” whispered Vinny. “I thought of that, but there's too much danger of getting lost, if we're not lost already. We need to stick together. We'll have to try hard to remember the place and the way to it. Maybe Father Alexis will know how to catch him.”

24. Two Confessions

It was dinner time in the monastery, and Vinny crept into the trapeza, tapped Father Alexis on the shoulder, and gestured to him to come outside.

“It's about... Schiller, sir,” Vinny stammered. “He's… well, he's kind of lost in the woods. We know where he is, or at least, where he was. At least, I think we could find the place again, if he's still there. It's an apple glade. We're very sorry, sir. But we shouldn't take time to talk, we need to hurry.”

Father Alexis turned to Jimmy, with a look that was questioning, but already gravely disappointed.

“We were taking him for a walk in the woods,” said Jimmy, barely preventing his voice from breaking, “and one of us, well, I guess both of us let go of the leads. I'm so sorry. He looked so sad in there, in his pen all day long, day after day. I remember how much he used to love the pasture. He was so sad in there. It was like me when I was in school, always cramped inside walls, and never being free or seeing anything beautiful. I'm so sorry. But he was so happy there in the wood. But I'm so sorry. I hope there are no coyotes in the wood. I wish I'd stayed back there with him, maybe I could have protected him--” Jimmy was becoming incoherent, and his voice was being overtaken by sobs.

Then Vinny suddenly spoke, in a loud, bold voice that silenced Jimmy at once. “Father Alexis, sir,” he said, “please don't blame Jimmy for this. It's entirely my fault. Ever since I met him, I saw that he wanted badly to have me for a friend, so I took advantage of that, and I kept making him do things that he shouldn't do, just so that I could feel like I was cool. It isn't his fault, sir. You can't blame him for wanting a friend.”

Father Alexis looked hard at Vinny, with considerable surprise. After half a minute of thought, he said gravely: “Vinny, that was quite a brave confession, and just for that I won't punish either of you, though of course, Jimmy should have known better.” He turned to Jimmy. “And you might be right about Schiller after all,” he said. “A walk in the woods sometimes might be what he needs.” The disappointment in his face was mingled with pity. But Jimmy thought that Father Alexis looked at Vinny as if he were a grown man, but at himself, as if he were a boy.

“Well,” said Father Alexis. “Let's go find him. Lead the way.”

25. Pan

They stopped by the barn on the way to the wood, and Father Alexis took some grain as bait for Schiller. Jimmy doubted, however, that Schiller would prefer grain to apples.

As they entered the cathedral stillness of the forest, the light was fading. The colors of the leaves were not so brilliant as they had been in the afternoon sunshine. The leaves were half reduced to silhouettes, against a sky glorious with the colors of sunset. Directly overhead, and a little eastward, the wispy clouds were painted a delicate pink against a deep blue sky. Westward, a band of reddish orange blazed above the horizon. The sunset’s dim pink light made everything beneath the canopy seem wild and elvish and a little bit unreal, as if they had wandered into a fairy tale. But it was ominous, too. They didn't have much time.

Perhaps they shouldn't have run through the dim, rocky forest, but they did, and no one tripped or got hurt. It seemed a long time to Jimmy, who was in an agony of suspense, that they wove among the trees, and at one point, Father Alexis, trying to reassure the boys, said that if they didn't find Schiller that night, he would surely stray onto some farm, and be recognized and returned. But he couldn't hide the fear in his voice, and he didn't stop the boys from running.

Finally, they came to the apple glade. It was a little lighter in the meadow, and they could see the still green apple tree fruiting wildly in all directions, against the background of the thinning gold-red forest. And there was the free beast, standing amidst the tall grass and goldenrod, feasting. 

Father Alexis watched for a minute, perhaps calculating what to do, perhaps admiring and wondering, or most likely both.

“He reminds me of Pan,” he said.

“Who?” asked Jimmy and Vinny at once.

“Pan,” said Father Alexis. “From Greek mythology. A rustic god of the woods, with the legs of a goat. A wild god, who could shout and make men panic, but who also played sweetly on the pan-pipes made of hollow reeds, and who danced with the nymphs of the wood. His name means ‘everything,’ for he symbolizes nature, and nature is everything. But you know, it was like that in the beginning, before the fall, when everything was free and wild and innocent. And all the beasts were like Schiller, wild and free, but at the same time, tame and man-loving. And so it shall be again, in the new creation. But I guess I'd better find out how tame he really is.”

And with that, Father Alexis began to walk across the meadow, holding out a handful of grain. Schiller turned and looked at him, calmly and without surprise, and with a trace, perhaps, of interest and welcome. He let Father Alexis come close enough to eat the grain out of his hand. But as Father Alexis leaned to grab his collar, he suddenly sprang away and ran into the forest.

“Oh no!” Father Alexis cried in an agony of disappointment. “I almost had him!”

26. The Injury

They walked on, following the direction that Schiller had run, but without much hope. They had lost sight of Schiller immediately in the gloom of the darkening woods, and very quickly, he was out of earshot too. They seemed to be lost. It was dim enough already to make it difficult not to trip on roots and stones, and soon it would be full dark.

After a few minutes, it dawned on Jimmy that the lie of the land had changed, and the trees were older and more stately, and there was little undergrowth and few stones, making it easier to walk. Father Alexis noticed it, too, and he said, “We're not on the monastery’s land anymore. This is Farmer Orloff's land.” Jimmy seemed to feel the influence of the master farmer in the very earth and trees of the place, bringing order, making it friendlier to man.

They walked on, steady steps in a straight line, leaves crunching under their feet, until with the last of the light they saw a large round pool. And there, with his face by the water, drinking deep, was Schiller. And as they looked at Schiller, they noticed a shape next to him, half covered in leaves, but not a root or a stone or a mere hummock of ground. It was the shape of a man, motionless and prostrate.

“Farmer Orloff!” cried Father Alexis in dismay, and ran to the other side of the pool, and knelt beside him, saying, “Are you all right? What's the matter?”

For many terrible seconds, there was no answer. Then a faint voice struggled to say, “Father Alexis, is that you?”

Father Alexis nodded and murmured something, and took Farmer Orloff's hand, which he hardly seemed to notice. By now, Vinny and Jimmy were standing beside him, too, holding Schiller’s leads.

“I thought it was the end,” Farmer Orloff began to say, in a vague, strange voice, as if he had begun to speak aloud a train of thought that had been going on a long time, and might not even know that he had begun speaking aloud. They could tell he was in great pain. “I was cutting wood, a little more wood for the winter, and my back began hurting. So I lay down, hoping it would feel better, and when I tried to get up, I couldn't. My muscles wouldn't obey me. And it hurt terribly even to try. I lay here all afternoon. There was nothing for me to do. I watched the leaves. What a beautiful afternoon it was. It would have been a good note to end on, in a way. It seemed impossible that anyone would find me… and then, when I saw Schiller, of all things, I thought I must be hallucinating, and maybe the end was about to come...”

He fell silent for a minute, then looked at Father Alexis, but even moving his head seemed to cause him terrible pain. “But how in the world did you find me, back here, way at the back of my land, deep in the woods? I can hardly believe it.”

Father Alexis, seized with wonder, began crossing himself again and again, praying under his breath. When he had composed himself, he stood up, looked at the boys, and said, “Boys, behold, and learn from what God has done this day! See how God has remembered and rewarded this good man and benefactor of our monastery! Don't grieve over the mischief you did, for God turned it to good. By means of one of this man's own many gifts to the monastery God has saved his life. It is always thus. Jesus taught his disciples that everyone who leaves houses or brothers or sisters or mothers or fathers or wives or children or fields for His sake and the Gospel’s will receive a hundred times as much in return in this life, and then eternal life as well. In the monastery, we learn the truth of this every day. We left parents, but the abbot, the bishop, and all older monks are our fathers. We forsook the chance to have children, but now all the younger monks, and all the pilgrims who come to us for counsel, are our children. We parted from a few brothers in the flesh, and now we have many brothers in the spirit. Some of us might have had houses and lands in the world, but look at what we have now, the beautiful buildings, and half a thousand acres of rolling hills and fields and forests. We can give God only what was already His own, yet He repays the gifts a hundredfold! Farmer Orloff gave God a goat, and God used that goat to save his life. Remember that, boys! Remember what you have seen today!”

“Amen! God be praised,” said Farmer Orloff fervently, though his voice was weak with pain.

27. It's Time

Father Alexis told Farmer Orloff a little more about how they found him, then said, “Let's get you back to the house.”

“I need to bring my chainsaw, too,” said Farmer Orloff. “I don't want it to rust out here.”

After a pause, Father Alexis said gravely, “I don't think you'll be using a chainsaw again.” He waited for that to sink in, then he added, still more gravely: “It's time.”

Those words were hardly clear, yet somehow Jimmy knew that the two men that had this conversation before, and what it was about. It's time to hang it up, to quit, to let go. Farmer Orloff couldn't be a farmer anymore. 

“Maybe… maybe…” murmured the old man. “I just can't stand to think of staring at four walls all day. Of never seeing green shoots of corn in a spring field. Of the weather not mattering anymore, and day after day going by and me missing it. This is home. Anywhere else, I'd be just a...” He looked for words. “Just a fallen leaf blown by the wind. I want to stay on my land. And I want my land to be my land, the way I made and worked it all these years. I don’t want to watch it get taken over by the weeds.”

“Well,” said Father Alexis, putting off the question for another time. “God's will be done. Let's get you back to the house.”

28. The Strongest Man

Father Alexis put his shoulder underneath Farmer Orloff's arm, and tried to position himself to lift him. Vinny and Jimmy tied Schiller to a tree, then watched, looking for some way they could help. Vinny worked his way under Farmer Orloff's other arm. Even as they did so, he made little grunts of pain. Jimmy could tell he was a brave, tough man, but he was suffering terribly.

“Okay, let's try it,” said Father Alexis. “1 - 2 - 3!” and Vinny and Father Alexis both pushed at once, but nothing happened, except that Farmer Orloff budged a little bit, and let out an involuntary whimper of pain. The second try was no more successful. On the third try, Farmer Orloff screamed, but Vinny and Father Alexis kept heaving and brought him to his feet. For a few horrible steps, Vinny and Father Alexis staggered, and Farmer Orloff screamed. 

“Let him down easy,” gasped Father Alexis. “It's not working.” 

“Sorry. But you need to keep the weight off the middle of my back,” said Farmer Orloff.

“I can't do that,” said Father Alexis. “I'm just not strong enough.”

“We need more help,” said Farmer Orloff. 

Then Jimmy had an idea. “I'll get my father,” he said with excitement and pride. “He's the strongest man around here. I'll get my father!” He almost set off running without waiting for permission from Father Alexis, but caught himself. 

It was too dark to see Father Alexis's face, but Jimmy could feel him brooding. He had no good options. He couldn't go himself, and leave Farmer Orloff and the boys alone in the forest.

“Do you know the way?” asked Father Alexis.

“From Farmer Orloff's house I do,” said Jimmy.

“It's that way,” said Farmer Orloff, and even in the darkness, Jimmy could tell which way he was pointing. “If you keep going uphill you'll get to a potato field. The moon's rising. You should be all right, but watch out for the place where the ground dips. I need to get a fill for that one of these days.”

As he walked carefully through the night woods, Jimmy was exhilarated with pride and adventure. What a thing it was, to have this long dark journey ahead of him, and such high stakes! That important man in the darkness, hurting, waiting, counting on him! He was a little afraid, but that only made it more fun. It seemed like a long time before he reached the edge of the potato field, and saw the house silhouetted against the orange light of a streetlamp.

Forty minutes later, he and his father came back, shining flashlights into the dark wood. A few crickets were still singing, so late in the year, but it was cold enough to see their breath in the beams of the flashlights. They heard shouting in the darkness, and Schiller's distressed “Me-eh-eh-eh! Me-eh-eh-eh!” and followed the sounds.

When they arrived, Schiller pulled on the lead to get close to Jimmy, and then nuzzled him joyfully. “Were you frightened?” He felt proud to have been braver even than Schiller. He saw that Vinny's hands were full of half-eaten leafy branches that he had been feeding to Schiller.

Meanwhile, Jimmy's father was all business. “Hold these flashlights on him so I can see him without stepping on him,” he commanded. Jimmy and Vinny obeyed. Jimmy's father squatted and looked Farmer Orloff in the face.

“Hi,” he said, and then, introducing himself, “Joe Rusk.” The two men had seen each other in church quite a few times, but had never spoken.

“Bill Orloff.” They shook hands.

“My boy tells me that you need some help getting back to the house.”

“Yeah,” said the farmer. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course. Couldn't have done otherwise. Now let's see if I can slip under here…” And Jimmy's father gave Farmer Orloff little orders and warnings as he positioned himself for the big lift. Then he started straining, with infinite slowness, and no jerks, gradually bringing his body erect with the big man on top of him. Father Alexis and Jimmy tried to help as they could.

And then he began to lumber forward with huge, heavy steps, barking commands to Vinny and Jimmy about where to shine the flashlights, and to Father Alexis about how to take a little bit of the weight. Farmer Orloff, knowing the lay of the land perfectly, gave warnings and directions too. “Avoid that hummock,” he would say, or “Bear left to avoid that muddy patch.”

Finally, with wonderful relief, they set foot on a flat lawn, and saw the silhouette of the house ahead.

29. Farm Manager

“Well,” said Farmer Orloff, seated in a big armchair, after the pain subsided enough for him to speak. “When your boy said that you were the strongest man around here, I thought that was just a son's pride talkin’. But now I see that it's true. That was quite a feat. Thank you.”

“Well, thank you,” said Jimmy's father. “I have always been strong. I've never got much chance to use it.”

Struck by this remark, Farmer Orloff asked, “What do you do for work?”

“Unemployed.”

“D'y'wanna work for me?” he asked. Hope leaped in Jimmy's heart, but the offer didn't sound very serious.

“I'd love to,” said Jimmy's father, but his tone sounded almost joking. Jimmy could tell his father didn't want to take advantage of the old farmer's gratitude, and was being flippant so that it wouldn't be awkward when the offer was withdrawn. Jimmy's heart sank. Why did his father have to be so honorable? There had been so many leads before, and they had all turned into smoke.

Farmer Orloff seemed to withdraw into himself for a moment, thinking hard. “Whadja do before you were unemployed?” he asked. 

“I was a lawyer,” said Jimmy's father. Farmer Orloff's face darkened with mistrust. “But I didn't like it,” he pleaded.

Father Alexis spoke up. “He's a great worker,” he said enthusiastically. “Do you remember the fence around Schiller’s pen? He built that, all in one day.”

Then Farmer Orloff looked at Jimmy's father with such respect and wonder that he blushed. “In one day?” he asked.

“With Father Alexis's help of course,” said Jimmy's father. And then, as if some apology were needed for the rapidity of his work, he added meekly, “It was the middle of summer. Lots of daylight.”

“I'll hire you as farm manager at $20 an hour,” said Farmer Orloff with decision. “When can you start?” Jimmy felt a great cheer of joy fighting to get out of him, but his great respect for the two men kept him silent.

That wage, which Joseph Rusk, J.D., would once have disdained, sounded so princely now, here, in the country, that it frightened him, as did the lofty title. “I really don't know much,” he protested.

“I've got the know-how,” said Farmer Orloff, and for a moment he sounded almost angry. But then he added plaintively, half speaking to himself, “I just don't have the muscle anymore.” And then, looking hard into Joe Rusk’s face, he said again: “When can you start?”

“Tomorrow!” Jimmy's father almost shouted.

30. A Farewell to Cool

The men kept talking for a while, and Father Alexis made tea, but the boys lost interest. Jimmy went to check on Schiller, who was tied outside. Vinny started to follow, then turned back into the house. Then he changed his mind again, and started coming out to Jimmy.

Jimmy was giddy with excitement and joy, but at the same time, he was afraid. He remembered Vinny's contempt as he watched him crying. He was afraid that Vinny would think he was a sissy forever. He trembled as Vinny approached.

Vinny had a brave, tough, kind of mean expression on his face, which Jimmy had often seen before, and which he thought was what Vinny meant by “being cool.” Vinny looked hard at Jimmy.

“I want to tell you something,” Vinny said.

“Okay,” said Jimmy.

“Boys. Never. Cry. Got that? I don't want to have to tell you again. Boys. Never. Cry.”

“Okay,” said Jimmy. 

But Jimmy realized that Vinny wasn't as sure of himself as he was trying to sound. In the dark, he couldn't tell for sure, but he thought he saw something glistening on the side of Vinny's face. And then the cool, mean expression melted out of it, never to return.

“Also,” he added, “I'm really happy for your father. Really, really happy for you and your father.” He turned shy then, and drifted off into the house, and then home.

From then on, Vinny was still the leader in their friendship, but he led in a different direction.

31. Crowns

Two weeks later, Jimmy's parents moved into the second house on Farmer Orloff's land, and lived happily ever after. Of Joe Rusk, from that day forward, it might almost be said that he did his duty by God and man every day of his life, without ever doing anything he didn't like. He had to say “Yes, sir!” a lot, but he was the sort of man who likes saying “Yes, sir!” Though sometimes Farmer Orloff's projects were a little over-the-top even for him. “Do we really need a gazebo?” he once complained to his wife. When Farmer Orloff reposed, he left the second house to the Rusks, but his farm to the monastery. The monks retained Joe Rusk as manager until there were enough of them to work the land themselves, then he bought a farm across the road. But he never quite did justice to it, as a farm. He was no Farmer Orloff, and the Rusks got too busy running the farmhouse as a guest house for pilgrims. 

Jimmy's sister recovered, and she and two more girls born to them on the farm all got married, and brought more grandbabies home for Christmas every year. All the kids and grandkids went to church every Sunday, and most of them, most of the time, lived close enough to visit often. And all around them, year by busy year, the splendid seasons kept rolling past: the glad grace of spring, teeming with flowers, the gentle breeze of summer, and the merry greenery of the world, and then the crisp days of autumn and the grandkids coming to help make pumpkin pie for Thanksgiving, and then frost on the windows, and cozy winter evenings around the fireplace, until the sap began to run, and it was time to tap the maples on the threshold of spring. The grandkids loved that annual ritual, too.

Vinny's parents also lived happily ever after, as much as their rather intense personalities would permit, for they soon had a son who kept every fast and attended every service, worked hard, obeyed without complaint, and began sometimes to say things that betrayed a surprising wisdom, a desire to live in accordance with the will of God, and a hope of eternal life. Their friendship with the Rusks grew stronger and deeper with the passing years.

Many years later, fulfilling a promise, Father Jerome, who was once called Jimmy, and Father Abbot Victor, who was once called Vinny, made their annual pilgrimage to the clear pool, where long ago, God had used a runaway goat to bless so many souls. Farmer Orloff had ordered a shrine to Saint Nicholas to be built there, and he wanted the monks to pray there at least once a year. They came more often than that, but the anniversary was an especially solemn occasion for the two lifelong friends. 

As they chanted the prayers for the departed, the wind rustled the canopy and let loose a rain of red and golden leaves, but settled on the wooden roof of the shrine, and around their feet, and in the clear pool that stood between them and the shrine, and even on their cassocks, and an orange and pink sunset slowly bled across the sky, and the air grew chilly. And they felt the old farmer, and Father Alexis, and Jimmy's father, recently departed, as if they were present, and the great day of their reunion was nigh. And they wondered at all the works of God, and of the strange methods by which He saves souls.

Meanwhile, for sixty years, all the monks and thousands of pilgrims had delicious milk and cheese from the daughters and granddaughters and great-granddaughters of Schiller the goat.