But all heavens have their Lucifers and all paradises their temptations. Domingos Mau-Tempo began to look on his neighbor’s companion with covetous eyes, and she, as niece, took offense and mentioned it to her uncle, and that was enough to create bad feeling between those two servants of the holy mother church, one permanent and the other temporary. Father Agamedes could not speak frankly for fear of giving credence to the evil thoughts of those parishioners who had their doubts about that niece-uncle relationship, and so, to drive away the threat to his own honor, he focused on the married status of the offending party. Deprived of his easy access to wine and weary of plying his trade here, there and everywhere, Domingos Mau-Tempo declared his intention at home of avenging himself on the priest. He did not say exactly what he was avenging himself for, and Sara da Conceição did not ask. She continued to suffer in silence.
The church had few parishioners and not all of them regular. It provided no remedy for their ills, nor was it obliged to, since, as far as one could see, it didn’t increase them either. That was not the problem. The lack of apostolic action was not conducive to increased devotion, not so much because Father Agamedes lived with his so-called niece and ran a grocery store, because only those who are not of the people are ignorant of such basic needs, but because he mangled the words of the prayer book, and dispatched newborns, newlyweds and the dead with the same cold-blooded indifference with which he slaughtered and ate his pig and with equally scant attention to the letter or spirit of the holy writ. Ordinary people can be strangely sensitive. Domingos Mau-Tempo knew how to ensure that the church would be full. He let it be known that the next mass would be something special, that Father Agamedes had told him that in future he was going to take particular pains over the holy precepts, and would make use of sublime pauses and even vibrato, you’d be a fool to miss it, so don’t come complaining to me afterward if you do. Father Agamedes was amazed when he saw the church packed with people. It wasn’t the church’s name day and the drought had not been so bad as to require celestial intervention, but he said nothing. If the flock came to the pen of its own free will, so much the better for the shepherd when it came to rendering accounts to his master. In short, so as not to appear ungrateful, he outdid himself and, all unknowing, confirmed Domingos Mau-Tempo’s prediction. However, the shoemaker raised up to the position of sacristan, and already planning another escape, had his revenge prepared. When it came to the point in the mass where he had to ring the sanctus bell, he calmly raised the bell and shook it. It was as if he had waved a chicken feather in the air. At first, the faithful thought that they must all have gone deaf, others, out of habit, bowed their heads, while others watched distrustfully as Domingos Mau-Tempo, in dramatic silence, his face a mask of innocence, continued to shake the bell. The priest looked puzzled, the faithful muttered to each other, the younger members laughed. It was shameful, what with all the saints, not to mention all-seeing God, looking down on them. Father Agamedes could contain himself no longer, and he stopped the communion service there and then, grabbed the bell and felt inside it. There was no clapper. And yet no thunderbolt fell to punish such impiety. Terrible in his holy fury, Father Agamedes slapped Domingos Mau-Tempo hard about the face, right there in that sacred place, it scarcely seemed possible. But Domingos Mau-Tempo responded in kind, as though this were all part of the mass. And it was not long before the priest’s vestments and the sacristan’s surplice were caught up in a furious maelstrom, one on top, the other underneath, rolling sacrilegiously about, bruising their ribs on the altar steps, beneath the round-eyed gaze of the monstrance. The congregation rushed to separate the two warring powers, and some took advantage of that tangle of arms and legs to slake an ancient thirst for revenge on either one side or the other. The old ladies had gathered in one corner, praying to all the hosts of heaven, and, finally summoning up physical force and spiritual courage, advanced on the altar in order to save their priest, however unworthy. It was, in short, a triumph of faith.
The next day, Domingos Mau-Tempo left the village, followed by a noisy cortege of boys, who accompanied him and his family as far as the barren outskirts. Sara da
