J. Donleavy - The Beastly Beatitudes of Balthazar B

"Thank you sir. Goodbye sir."

A bright crisp sunny day. This Friday afternoon. Beefy on Tuesday went to the village and bought dog food for Soandso. Selected meats, liver, vitamins and minerals. And delivered him freshly bathed from the river to the care of Mrs. Twinkle. He went to a last choir practice. And his solo voice could be heard out across the fields. He said he would be going north to Scotland and knew what he would do on the train. He would look up in the dictionary many foul words and say them in memory of Slouch who was a tadpole and a bicycle seat sniffer.

Balthazar was given all the precious little treasures. Hidden behind a loose brick near the boilers where Masterdon kept his grass snakes. There was a hunting knife. A catapult and a pea shooter. A secret shoe box with two poisonous adders. And an obscene photograph.

Beefy bundled up with a long black scarf said goodbye at the top of the great stair. The blood red of the window lighting up his ruddy cheeks and carrot hair. And Balthazar went to the room where his elephant Tillie was torn to shreds. His face pressed to the glass as those grinning ones that day. And out on the gravel a bowler hatted gentleman held open the door of a long black car. Beefy stopping and looking back at the window. He reached into his coat. A great grin on his face. Smilingly he withdrew a small black book. Held it up and waved his diary.

The car turned up the little hill of the drive. Tires crunching on the gravel. White exhaust in the cold air. And at the rear window the face of Beefy. Throwing a kiss from his fingertips. The naked trees. And now the car vanishing beyond the rhododendron. A last wave too late because he was gone. Towards the steeple tip of the village church, as it poked sharply into the sinking sun.

And

The bell

Rang once

To say

Goodbye

To

Sixty four.

In the empty dormitory Balthazar turned himself upon his face and laid out his arms on the cold pillow of his bed. If only one knew how to die. And go away from this lonely friendless world. Rise by one of Uncle Edouard's balloons attached around the bed. And there floating high in the sky cast down much merde upon this school.

At evening table no glad tidings, nor bold moments. Of catapulting cheese lumps at the grey bearded founder's portrait. Or rolling a drinking glass to get crushed under a servant's foot. Nor at night hear his kind thoughts to comfort one through till dawn. You mustn't worry now. Tomorrow we are having margarine with breakfast and marmite. And I have put much salt in the masters' coffee grindings and they will screw up their faces and find the taste most awfully horrid.

And now to lie tired cold and shivery. To hold hands down between my legs. And knees up to my chin. When Beefy would tap his chest and say, let the magnificent masturbator speak. I am the king of masturbators and have a bent for botty bashing too. And somewhere sometimes another lonely boy would whimper, cry for mommie and in his tears fall to sleep.

This last week before Christmas holidays. To play rugger. Face, knees and elbows deep in the dark thick mud. Bruised and sorry. To drop the ball from slippery hands. Amid the shoves, screams and shouts. Beefy said always be gentlemanly and honest, except with masters, bullies and enemies and defend against them by all means at hand. And do the indecent thing to do, if possible.

Until this cold damp evening after rugger the dormitory windows black with night. Masterdon promenading in his soiled underwear strolling with his grinning big lips past Balthazar's bed.

"Frenchy. You're going to be in for it something shocking. They are clearing the foreigners out of this school. Frenchy. Those with dirty pictures hidden in the walls. Maybe you are not so spunky now your little piggish friend Beefy is gone.'

Balthazar rushed forward and sent a looping fist into Masterdon's eye. The big boy reeled and reached out to grab at Balthazar's hair. Who ducked and ran towards the door. Followed by Masterdon's heavy slippered feet. Down the main stair. To the darkened entrance hall and into a door and down another stairs winding into the vast haunted cellars. Through the blackness into the warm dry air of the boiler room. Followed by Masterdon. Balthazar hugging close running round the boiler. Masterdon behind tripping over a box in the dark. Balthazar rushing out slamming and bolting the metal encased door shut. The heavy breathing of Masterdon the other side. Then his voice.

"I will kill you number fifty seven when I get out of here.' "You may never get out."

"I'll shout for Slouch."

"Do. He will never hear you. He is sniffing bicycle seats."

"You think you're clever fifty seven."

"Yes I do. Watch out, your snakes may turn on you and eat you."

"Shut up that talk."

"If your snakes don't bite you Masterdon, Beefy's adders will. I put them in there yesterday. Two adders."

"Shut up you."

"Adders Masterdon. Adders. They are able to strike in the dark. They can tell where there is warm flesh and strike. They are moving now towards you."

"Shut up, when I get out of here I will kill you just remember that."

"Masterdon. Adders. Masterdon adders."

"Shut up shut up. You'll be sorry.' "You'll be dead of poison from the adders Masterdon."

"You never put an adder in here."

"I did yesterday. Two adders in the white shoe box. And you knocked it over just now."

"Where were they then.'

"They are there Masterdon. Coming near your ankles. It won't be long now before they strike.'

"Let me out of here.'

"No not till you are well bitten."

"Let me out I say."

"Apologise. And vow never to bully again. For I am not joking, there are adders in there, caught by sixty four."

"Please let me out now."

"Vow."

"All right, I vow."

"Vow to never bully again."

"I vow."

"Say it."

"I vow to never bully again. Now let me out."

"All right, but Masterdon, you better know I will fight you. And it will be worse for you because you are big and it will be awful for you if someone smaller gives you a thrashing."

Balthazar unbolting the boiler room door. To hear Master-don's heavy breathing an arm away in the dark. Waiting for the grab of his hand. "Are there adders in there, fifty seven, turn on the light. I don't want to fight."

"Yes, there are. In the shoe box."

"God they could have got me. If they've escaped. You must be mad. I think you are thoroughly mad like sixty four."

"I am not mad Masterdon. But you are a bully. And you do not find fear so amusing when it is you who is afraid."

"You won't tell anyone about this."

"I am not a tattle tale Masterdon."

With the light on Masterdon searched and held down the adders with the furry end of a broom. Balthazar picked them up by the back of the neck and dropped them back in the box.

The light brown slit eye and zig zagged yellow brown body and hissing little head as they curled to strike. And that night before lights out. Masterdon came padding across to Balthazar's bed. And handed him one of his tangerines.

The day before the headmaster's speech and the next day's Christmas holiday departure, there was a letter placed upon Balthazar's bed. School trunks were being packed. A last feverish trading of uncherished treasures. And Balthazar sat and tore open the blue envelope postmarked Leighton Buzzard.

My dearest Balthazar,

I have the sorriest thing, for me at least, to have to write to you. My father who has not been well for some time has been taking a slow turn for the worse. My mother who has arthritis cannot look after him alone. And so I have written your mother that here I must stay. I did so much want to look after you again during the Christmas holidays in Paris. A new nannie, your mother tells me, has been engaged and I am sure she will be very nice. She will collect you from school and bring you back to Paris on the train.