The Long Run (40 page)

“It's called the act of transference. That's what the assistant to the Brother Superior calls it.” The assistant to the Brother Superior is having interviews as well.

“His name is Brother F. F. Lannon. It's how you become a man.” Kavanagh's eyes glisten as he speaks.

“What's the F. F. stand for?” Ryan asks.

“Fuck Face,” Bug snaps. “He's gotta mouth like a hen's ass.”

“What'd he say to you, Blackie?” Murphy asks.

“Nuthin'. Just if I know the meaning of ‘rite of passage.' Told him Brother McCann taught it to me, and he told me to leave.”

“He asked me where babies come from,” Ryan says. “I told him they come from a woman's backside.”

“Lot you know,” Bug says.

“He say anything to you?” Blackie asks Murphy.

“Well, I went to the monastery door at two o'clock and knocked, just like he told me to. He's got a really gray, wrinkly face. He's a spooky guy. He peeked through the glass cross in the door. Bug's right. He really does have a mouth like a hen's ass, and he's got really crawly skin, ashy colored. It reminds me of one of those mummy movies. He opened the door and told me to come in. ‘You're Mr. Murphy. Come in. Come in,' he said. I felt pretty good because he recognized me right away. Probably because I was an altar boy for the Brother Superior's Mass. He led me to the parlor and sat down and straight off asked if I knew the difference between males and females, ‘as God created them. It's in the Book of Genesis,' he said, the wrinkles on his forehead jumping up and down a mile a minute. I've never seen anyone so wrinkly. I told him I read the Bible all the time. He asked me if I have a girlfriend, or if I've ever dated a girl. I said no. I wasn't about to mention the Doyle sisters.

“Then he asked me if I'd like a soda pop—Coke or Pepsi. And I said, ‘I'll have both,' just horsing around, you know, like we always do with Rags. Big mistake. He came over to where I was sitting and laughed this goofy laugh he's got, like he's coughing instead of laughing. And he sniffs like crazy—nff-nff, nff-nff. He sniffs a helluva lot. And,
whammo
, he clocked me one in the side of the head. ‘You'll have
one
,' he said, ‘just
one
, and don't get fresh around me. I don't have time for wise guys.' Then he went and got me a Crown Cola. As I took my first swig, he asked if I knew anything about the act of transference. I said no, and he asked if I knew where the stuff of life comes from. Have any of the brothers taught it to me? I wasn't sure I knew the answer, and I was afraid of getting another whack in the head, so I said no, I don't know anything about it. He did his nff-nff routine and asked my age. I told him I'll be fourteen in September. ‘Nff-nff, you're into your teens,' he whispered. ‘That means you'll be a man soon.' Then he just stared at me. He's got a really creepy stare; his wrinkly forehead puckers up and down like crazy. I got kinda nervous, so I started swigging my Crown Cola. After a while he said, ‘Yes, nff-nff, you'll be a man soon, nff-nff, a man like all men. Do you know what happens when a boy reaches manhood, Mr. Murphy? When he moves through his rite of passage?' I wasn't sure what he was getting on with, so I said no.

“There was a long silence. I took a few more swigs of cola, and he started pacing. ‘A man,' he said, ‘has something that boys do not have. He has something only men have, something a boy can receive only from a man.' He stared that creepy stare again, and his forehead crinkled as he spoke. His skin looked more than ever like mummy skin. ‘Do you know what that something is, Mr. Murphy?'

“‘No, Brother,' I said.

“‘Of course, why would you? Nff-nff. Why would you? You're a boy, a norphan boy. That something, Mr. Murphy, is spermatozoa. Do you know that it takes forty tiny drops of blood purifying in the body for forty days to produce a single drop of spermatozoa?'

“He started twitching like he was gonna give me another whack, so I asked him if that had anything to do with Jesus spending forty days and forty nights in the desert. Just so he'd think I was interested. But he ignored me.

“‘This is how you receive the spermatozoon, the mature sex cell in your semen. Sperm, as your friends probably call it.'
Spunk
, I feel like saying. ‘You are a teenager now. Soon you will have unlimited spermatozoa. But not until a few drops enter your system. After we have primed the pump, so to speak. Then you will produce endless spermatozoa. Like me. Like all the brothers. All adults. Like all the young men here. That's what makes you become a man. This happens during what is called the act of transference. Not to be confused with the act of transubstantiation. Do you know what that act is? Are you familiar with the act of transubstantiation?'

“‘Yes,' I lied. I know it's got something to do with God entering the host during Mass. I'm not really sure, but I didn't let on.

“‘Both are holy acts, the act of transference and the act of transubstantiation. The former, transference, is that special initiation time when a teen is inseminated and becomes a man. A man capable of producing his own spermatozoa.' He stared at me for a long time. I didn't know what to say, so I nearly drained my Crown Cola. The whole thing was getting pretty spooky.

“‘The adult spirit is contained inside the adult seed. Do you know how spermatozoa first enters a young man's system?' I shook my head, and he said, “It's simple, very simple. This will be our little secret. From man to man. It is passed on from the adult to the teenager, from man to boy. That's how men have become men from the beginning of time, passing on their sperm, down through the ages. It's like entering the Sports Hall of Fame, only it's the Spirit Hall of Fame. It's spiritual, you see, nff-nff.'

“‘Like Babe Ruth and Lou Gehrig,' I said. I was getting worried about being late for sumo practice and was trying to speed things up. ‘Precisely,' he said. ‘Huh-huh, clever young man. Every boy must endure his rite of passage, his initiation into manhood.' I could feel myself getting into a real sweat 'cause the whole thing was getting too spooky for words.

“‘This is why I asked you earlier, young man, if you know the difference between males and females, as God created them. Females do not have spermatozoa. They have eggs. Females have menstruation. Males have masturbation. You know the difference? Women menstruate. Men masturbate. Necessary evils, so to speak. The first time a girl menstruates, she becomes a woman. The first time a boy masturbates, he becomes a man. But before he does so, a boy must receive spermatozoa. Have you received spermatozoa from a man yet, Mr. Murphy?'

“I almost choked on the last of my Crown Cola. When I told him I haven't, he said, ‘Not to worry, you can have some of mine. You can take the spermatozoa from my system into yours. When my adult spermatozoa, the stuff of life, enters into your system, you will then become a man. The act of transference, the ritual act of masculinization will be complete. This is the only way a boy can truly become a man. Are you interested in experiencing the act of transference now? Would you like to become a man today? This very minute?'

“I told him I had sumo practice, and I was already ten minutes late.

“‘Well, another time,' he said. ‘Nff-nff.' But before letting me go, he told me that when I have my own spermatozoa, I must guard it with my life. ‘It is your treasure,' he said, ‘your sperm bank, nff-nff. Store it up. Store it through abstinence for your own spiritual profit. A young man must learn to say no to himself. No, no, no.' He kept repeating the word about a hundred times. He really worked himself up. ‘In the Book of Genesis, Onan spilled his seed upon the ground and was struck down by God. Remember that.'”

“He wanted you to suck him off,” Bug says.

“That's what he told me too,” Kavanagh says. “That the ritual act must remain a secret.”

“Secret, my ass,” Ryan says.

“The act of transference,” Oberstein says, shaking his head over and over.

“Bastard!” Blackie says.

“Today boys, while the Brother Superior and his assistant are here, I want to talk to you about a very serious matter, a very sensitive matter. The position of Holy Mother Church regarding conjugal relations.”

Kavanagh thinks McCann means conjugation, and raises his hand.

“We do that in Latin class, Brother. When we list the different forms of a verb, we do conjugations.”

“
Conjugal relations
. Not conjugations, Mr. Kavanaghs. Conjugal, from the Latin
conjux
, consort, of marriage or the relationship of husband and wife. Not the grammatical system of verbal inflection.”

Silence. McCann tilts his head to the side and rolls his eyes toward the ceiling.

“Now, conjugal relations, boys, are . . . well, physical relations.”

Bug Bradbury flaps his hand.

“Is that like the Brother Superior from Rome talked to us about? The facts of life?”

“Yes, that is correct, Mr. Bradburys. The facts of life, correct. But conjugal relations . . . Well, it involves more than baby-making. Such relations, between man and wife—”

Murphy's hand shoots up. “Brother, I was wondering. Why do they always say man and wife. Why do they never say woman and husband? It's always man and wife. Wouldn't it be more sensible to say husband and wife?”

“
Tradition
, Mr. Murphys. Tradition. The expression goes back many years. Now, I was about to say, boys, that such relations, well, exist for more than the purpose of procreation. God, in his infinite wisdom, has designed a great gift for those who enter into the sacrament of marriage. It is given for pleasure as well as procreation. Primarily, of course, for the purpose of procreation. But a secondary reason for its existence is pleasure between man and wife. It exists to bind the couple in their fidelity to one another. Yet, there are times when this gift can be misused, even in marriage. Today, class, I wish to make clear to you the times when Holy Mother Church has ordained it sinful to have conjugal relations. There are three main occasions during which conjugal relations are sinful. One: entering into such relations during menstruation.”

“What's that?” Kavanagh asks.

“When the girl's having her period, isn't it, Brother?” Bug Bradbury squeaks.

“That is correct. When the wife is
menstruating
. That is the term, Mr. Bradburys . . .”

“Gee, I didn't think that would be a sin,” Bradbury muses.

“Well it is!” McCann growls.

“Mortal or venial, Brother?” Brookes asks.

“Mortal, Mr. Brooke. All of these sins are mortal. The three examples I am about to give are
all
examples of mortal sin.”

“Like eating meat on Fridays. Eating meat on Fridays is a mortal sin, right Brother?”

“Yes. Correct, Kavanaghs. And mortal sin cuts you off from what, class?”

“God's grace, Brother.”

“Precisely. And that is why we have the sacraments. And what is a sacrament, boys?”

“A sacrament is an outward sign of God's grace.”

“Precisely. Precisely. And no matter how many rosaries, no matter how many Masses, and Benedictions, no amount of holy communion or novenas will remove the stain of mortal sin, boys. You can eat so much holy communion you get sick. It won't help you one bit. You'll not receive God's grace. You'll remain in the state of mortal sin until you confess to a priest and receive absolution. Is that clear, boys? If you fail to confess, you'll go straight to hell. Where to, boys?”

“Straight to hell, Brother.”

“Very good. Now, do you understand the dangers to your soul? Of masturbation, boys?”

Ryan turns in his seat and forms a circle with the thumb and index finger of his left hand while rapidly pushing his right index finger back and forth.

“Now, number two. The second occasion during which conjugal relations is sinful. Wearing a prophylactic. Instead of practicing the rhythm method. You all know about the rhythm method, which the Brother Superior explained during his recent visit. When a husband opts to wear a prophylactic during conjugal relations, it is a mortal sin.”

Dead silence. We all wait for Kavanagh or Bug to pop the big question.

“For the benefit of those boys who do not understand the word, perhaps a synonym will help. Another word for a prophylactic is ‘condom.' It is a contraceptive sheath worn by men who have conjugal relations outside marriage. The condom is worn to safeguard against disease.”

“We call it a rubber, Brother,” Bug Bradbury interrupts.

“It protects you against disease.” McCann ignores Bug.

“Like VD, right, Brother?” Bug says.

“That is correct, Mr. Bradburys.
Venus veneris
, sexual love. To safeguard against venereal disease and other infections contracted by sexual intercourse with an infected woman. The third example of when Holy Mother Church deems sexual relations a sin is the deliberate wasting of seed during conjugal relations.”