The Cathedral Clergy: A Chronicle

Chapter 5

Chapter 5 Nikolay Afanasievich turned in his chair to look at all his listeners and added: “You see? I told you the story was very ordinary and not the least bit interesting. And hence, dear sister,” he added, rising, “let us be on our way!” Marya Afanasievna began preparing to leave, but once again the deacon launched into a dispute, claiming that Nikolay Afanasievich had prayed to the wrong saint. “That, Father Deacon, sir, is not my business to know,” said Nikolay Afanasievich, justifying himself as he looked around for his fuzzy cap. “What do you mean it’s not your business! It certainly is: you’ve got to know who you’re praying to.” “Pardon me, sir, pardon me, but the first time I went to the church on this matter, I wrote down my request for a prayer ‘for a runaway serf’ and turned it in, along with half a ruble, and then the priest started praying to Ioannn the Warrior, so that’s how it came about.” “Oh! If that’s the case, then that priest was no good—” “Why? Why? Why? Why was the priest no good?” Father Benefaktov suddenly broke in. “He was no good, Father Zacharias, because he didn’t know what he was doing,” Achilles replied to Benefaktov with supreme cockiness. “You can’t very well sing prayers to Ioann the Warrior for ‘a runaway serf’ now, can you?” “Yes, you can. Why, who else should you pray to, in your opinion? Who? Who?” “Who? Have you forgotten or what? There used to be a sheet of paper posted where the reader stands. It’s been taken down now, but I still remember who you’re supposed to offer prayers to, depending on the reason.” “Yes.” “Well, that’s all there is to it! For your information, he should’ve prayed to Theodore of Tyre, that’s who.” “You condemn falsely: that priest was right in praying to Ioann the Warrior.” “Don’t embarrass yourself, Father Zacharias.” “He was right, I tell you.” “And I’m telling you, don’t embarrass yourself needlessly.” 154 PART II “How come you’re arguing with me?” “No, how come you’re arguing with me? I can embarrass you right now, you know, if I want to.” “Well, go ahead.” “Really, my dear man, I’ll do it!” “Well, go ahead, go ahead!” “I can really do it, you know. You’d better not ask me to because I know that chart by heart.” “So quit talking and embarrass me, embarrass me,” Zacharias Benefaktov said lickety-split, laughing in delight as he looked first at the deacon and then at Father Tuberozov, who was maintaining a dignified silence. “Embarrass you? Allow me,” said Achilles decisively and, immediately flinging the wide sleeve of his cassock well above his elbow, he bent back the thumb of his left hand with his right as if intent on breaking it off and began: “Here’s the first one: to cure fever and chills you pray to St. Maro.” “St. Maro,” Father Benefaktov repeated after him in agreement. “To cure the gnawing disease you pray to the great martyr Artemy,” said Achilles, bending back his index finger in the same manner as he continued to count them off. “Artemy,” Benefaktov repeated. “To remedy barrenness you pray to Roman the Miracle Worker; if a husband starts hating his wife, it’s the martyrs Gury, Samon, and Aviv; to drive out demons, St. Nifont; to get rid of sensual passion, St. Fomaida—” “And St. Moses Ugrin,” Benefaktov, who until then had merely been nodding his head each time, quietly put in. The deacon thought for a moment, looking Father Zacharias in the eye, and then, having already bent back the fingers and thumb of his left hand, he released them in order to count with his right and said: “Yes, you can also pray to Moses Ugrin, too.” “Well, keep going then.” “To cure hard drinking you pray to the martyr Bonifaty—” “And to Moses the Black.” “How’s that, sir?” “To Bonifaty and to Moses the Black,” Father Zacharias repeated. “True,” repeated the deacon. “Go on.” “To guard against evil sorcery, it’s the holy martyr Kiprian—” “And St. Justina.” “Would you allow me, Father Zacharias? Stop prompting!” “Why, there’s nothing to allow! It was printed right there in plain Russian: ‘and St. Justina.’” CHAPTER 5 155 “Oh, all right...