Driving back to the Federal Court House offices, Jan reflected that from the moment they met, Colin’s behavior swung wildly between barely suppressed rage and a slow, almost unconscious attitude of acceptance. At times, he even seemed happy. He can’t go through this much longer or he’ll have a meltdown, Jan thought. I wonder what he’s really thinking. BROTHER JULIAN met Colin inside the entrance of All Souls School and guided him out through a colonnade of covered arches that embraced the four sides of a grassy quad. The open cloister served a variety of functions. In good weather, the brothers took breakfast and evening meals under frescos of Olympian deities. “Italian immigrants painted these ceilings in the mid-nineteenth century,” Brother Julian explained. “During the school year, the brothers and students meet here for silent prayer and reflection. Of course, attendance is optional. If you want to join us, that’s good, if not, that’s good too.” Colin stopped and looked a long moment at a large cast iron fountain, its waterspout frozen in midair from the subfreezing temperature.
