When he went back outside, the sun was setting and the mountains had turned from dark green to violet. Two Brothers passed him on their way to the washroom, bowed their heads briefly and silently, and went on. Quinn heard the clinking of metal dishes and the sounds of voices coming from the dining room and he started toward it. He was halfway there when he heard Sister Blessing calling his name.
She came hurrying toward him, her robe flapping in the wind, hike a bat’s wings, he thought, without amusement.
She was carrying a couple of candles and a package of wooden matches. “Mr. Quinn? Yoohoo, Mr. Quinn.”
“Hello, Sister. I was just going to look for you.”
She was flushed and out of breath. “I’ve made a terrible mistake. I forgot this was the Day of Renunciation, I was so busy getting Brother Tongue settled back in his own quarters in the Tower. He’s well enough now not to need the heat of the stove at night.”
“Take a minute to catch your breath, Sister.”
“Yes, I must. I’m so flustered, the Master’s stomach is bothering him again.”
“And?”
“This being the Day of Renunciation, we can’t eat with a stranger among us because of—dear me, I’ve forgotten the reason, but anyhow it’s a rule.”
“I’m not very hungry anyway,” Quinn lied politely.
“Oh, you’ll be fed, have no doubt of that. It’s just that you’ll have to wait until the others are through. It will take an hour, perhaps longer, depending on poor Brother Behold the Vision’s teeth. They don’t fit very well and he gets behind the others. It taxes Brother Light’s patience since he works in the fields all day and has a manly appetite. You don’t mind waiting?”
“Not at all.”
“I’ve brought you candles and matches. And look what else.” From the folds of her robe she produced a dog-eared book. “Something to read,” she said with an air of triumph. “We’re not allowed books except about the Faith but this is from one year when Sister Karma had to go to school. It’s about dinosaurs. Do you think that will interest you?”
“Oh yes. Highly.”
“I’ve read it myself dozens of times. I’m practically an expert on dinosaurs by this time. Promise you won’t tell anyone I gave it to you?”
“I promise.”
“I’ll let you know when the others have finished eating.”
“Thank you, Sister.”
Quinn could tell from the way she handled the book that it was something very precious to her and that it was a sacrifice on her part to lend it to him. He was touched by her gesture but also a little suspicious of it: Why me? Why do I get the special treatment? What does she want from me?
Back in the storage shed he lit the two candles, sat down on the cot and tried to make some plans for the future. First he would hitch a ride in the truck with Brother Crown as far as San Felice. Then he would drop in on Tom Jurgensen and collect his three-hundred dollars. After that—
After that no plans were necessary. He knew all too well what would happen. If he scraped together enough money he’d go back to Reno. If he couldn’t make Reno, Las Vegas. If he couldn’t get to Las Vegas, one of the poker parlors outside Los Angeles. A job, money; a game, no money. Every time he ran around the circle, the grooves got deeper. He knew he’d have to break out of it some time. Maybe this was it.
All right, he told himself, he’d get a job in San Felice where the only gambling was bingo at the country club once a week. He’d save some money, mail a check for his back rent to the hotel in Reno and have the clerk send on his clothes and the rest of the things he’d left as security. He might even, if everything turned out well, ask Doris to join him... No, Doris was part of the circle. Like most of the other people who worked at the clubs, she spent her off-hours at the tables. Some of them had their whole lives under one roof; they slept, ate, worked and played there, with as much single-minded dedication as the Brothers and Sisters of the Tower.
Doris. It was only twenty-four hours since he’d said goodbye to her. She’d offered to lend him money but for reasons he wasn’t sure of, either then or now, he’d refused. Maybe he turned it down because he knew money had strings attached, no matter how carefully they were camouflaged. He looked down at the book Sister Blessing had given to him and he wondered what strings were attached to it.
“Mr. Quinn?”
He got up and opened the door. “Come in, Sister. Did you have a good Renunciation Day dinner?”
Sister Blessing glanced at him suspiciously. “Good enough, considering the troubled state of Sister Contrition’s mind.”
“Just what is one supposed to renounce? Not food, I gather.”
“None of your business, Come along now and no smart talking. The dining room’s empty and I have your lamb stew heated up and a nice cup of cocoa.”
“I thought you didn’t believe in stimulants.”
“Cocoa is not a true stimulant. We had a meeting of the Council about that last year, and it was decided by a large majority that cocoa, because it contained other important nourishment, is quite permissible. Only Sister Glory of the Ascension voted no because she’s so stin—thrifty. I told you about the hair in the mattress?”
“Yes,” said Quinn, who preferred to forget it.
“You’d better hide the book. Not that anyone would spy on you, but why take a chance?”
“Why, indeed.” He covered the book with a blanket.
“Have you read it?”
“Some.”
“Don’t you think it’s very interesting?”
Quinn thought the strings attached to it might be more interesting but he didn’t say so.
They went outside. An almost full moon hung low in the redwood trees. Stars studded the sky, hundreds more than Quinn had even seen, and even while he stood and watched, still more appeared.
“Haven’t you ever seen a sky before?” Sister Blessing said with a touch of impatience.
“Not this one.”
“It’s the same as always.”
“It looks different to me.”
Sister Blessing peered anxiously up into his face. “Do you suppose you’re having a religious experience?”
“I am admiring the universe,” Quinn said. “If you want to put a tag on it, go ahead.”
“You don’t understand, Mr. Quinn. I prefer that you not have a religious experience right at the moment.”
“Why?”
“It would be very inconvenient. I have something I want you to do for me and a conversion at this time would interfere.”
“You can stop worrying, Sister. Now, about this something you want me to do—”
“I’ll tell you later, when you’ve eaten.”
The dining room was empty, and Brother Tongue’s rocking chair was gone and so was the bird cage. One place was set at the end of the table nearest the stove.
Quinn sat down and Sister Blessing filled a tin plate with lamb stew and another with thick slices of bread. As she had in the afternoon, she watched Quinn eat with a kind of maternal interest.
“Your color’s not very good,” she said, after a time. “But you have a hearty appetite and you seem healthy enough. What I mean is, if you were frail, I naturally couldn’t ask you to do me any favors.”
“Contrary to appearances, I am extremely frail. I have a bad liver, weak chest, poor circulation—”
“Nonsense.”
“All right, what’s the favor?”
“I want you to find somebody for me. Not find him in person, exactly, but find out what happened to him. You understand?”