Krafft's Anomaly Notes

Chapter 349 Family Scandal
"Dominic? Dominic!"

The call came from close at hand, and it sounded very urgent, so urgent that Dominic felt that he would be slapped twice if he didn't respond.

Double images flickered before my eyes, like dark paint poured into a drain, pulled into circular arcs by the water flow, rotating with the vortex background and being sucked into the dark core in the middle.

The sound became slow, elongated and distorted. My dry lips opened and closed slightly, but I couldn't hear what I said, and it was even difficult to determine whether I was making any sound.

Then came the pain. My skull seemed as big as a prayer hall, so that even the most intense physical sensations took a while to spread from the back of my head to my forehead, humming like an echo in the empty consciousness.

I felt a cool touch on the side of my neck. Fortunately, my companion's first reaction was to check my pulse instead of physically awakening me. The first aid course was not in vain.

Fortunately, the arterial pulsation was quite obvious. Even though Field touched the wrong position in a hurry, he could still feel the powerful and terrifying blood flow from the heart. Every pulse was like the last struggle before sliding into the abyss.

This isn't exactly friendly to your blood vessels, but it's great for your thorax - it helps prevent you from breaking a few ribs on uneven ground.

Dominic could feel the chaotic footsteps around him, and his body was lifted up and taken to the bright outdoors, away from the dim and rotating confined space.

The beating heartbeat of a drum was still hitting the eardrums. The vision calmed down first, followed by hearing and position perception.

Field shook three fingers in front of his face and said a random number until the guy started to panic and then changed his words.

The owner of the house was even more panicked than Field. He dropped the half-woven wicker basket and stood there at a loss, frightened by the sudden situation.

The moment Dominic fell, a thousand serious consequences of a clergyman dying in his own home may have flashed through his mind. He stammered in prayer to Heaven, asking the Almighty Lord to appear and save his life, or at least give him a breath.

Although it is not known whether the Lord heard it, Dominic certainly heard it. These few words, which are often taught to ordinary believers, seem to indicate that during the years when the monastery was vacant, traces of faith were still passed down.

"It's okay, just let me rest for a while." Dominic sat up against the wall and comforted Little John, who almost knelt down to beg him not to die, "It's just dizziness, it's not your fault."

The feeling came and went quickly, and poor health and missed breakfasts were more likely to blame than the rooftop design and the unique hand-woven fabrics.

Some people may interpret physical discomfort as being possessed by some evil spirit, but the monks of Dunling have always scoffed at it. The orthodox view does not deny the existence of evil spirits and demonic intrusions, but also emphasizes that they are extremely special and low-probability events, and we should not ignore the common existence of diseases caused by eating disorders, environmental hygiene, etc.

"Excuse me, I'm not going to believe this, but I've always been in good health. It's just that I haven't been able to adapt since I came here."

After this incident, the distance between the two sides seemed to be shortened. Little John brought out a homemade cushion and let the two monks sit down in the sunny place in front of the house to rest for a while.

Once again, Dominic noticed the weaving method, which was almost everywhere in the basket maker's work, and it was well adaptable and could be cleverly twisted into various extended shapes with a little adjustment.

"It's really good. Even in Dunling, I haven't seen many better ones than this."

Although he didn't know where Dunling was, it didn't stop Little John from hearing that this was a compliment to his craftsmanship. It was very helpful to be recognized by the monks, but he still had to be humble:

"Actually, many people know some of this, but my father is better at it, and he taught me."

"That's more than one point. Your father must also be an excellent basket maker." Dominic handed the pendant that he had not given away to the other party, moved the cushion closer, and sat down side by side like a friend.

Family craftsmanship is a good option to start a conversation, and it is also suitable for extending the topic to the parents.

"Can you tell me about him? For example, how he inherited the family craft. The brothers in the monastery must have liked his work. Did they ask him to help weave flower baskets for offerings?" "Well, actually, it should be my father who started our family to specialize in this. My grandfather still wanted him to concentrate on farming. I remember that they quarreled a few times about this, but not many times after I was ten years old."

"Your father convinced him?"

"My father convinced him with his craftsmanship." Little John's mouth curled up unconsciously, as if there was a hint of envy, the pure envy of a craftsman for someone with better talent, "He can always do the same thing better."

"My grandfather only taught me how to make hats and baskets, but one day he took out baskets, and then cushions, stools... and even roofs."

"A genius," Field exclaimed. If such a person were to pursue a bachelor's degree, he would not have to worry about not being able to write innovative lecture notes.

Unfortunately, he was born a few years earlier and missed the peak period of the church's development. The world lost a promising scholar and gained a gifted basket maker.

“I’m glad his craft can be inherited.”

"In fact, I didn't inherit all of my father's skills. At most, I'm better than my grandfather." Little John's pursed lips drooped, with regret and unhappiness flashing alternately.

"He left too early. There were too many things he didn't have time to teach me. He also caused a lot of trouble for the family before he died..."

"Please accept my condolences." Dominic stepped forward and held his hand. "The love of Heavenly Father is broad. His service to the village will be remembered. His soul must have ascended to heaven."

"Ugh……"

The persuasion didn't work, and when the subject of ascending to heaven was mentioned, the other party's expression became even gloomier.

Dominic and Field looked at each other, things had taken an unexpected turn.

"If you have any unspeakable secrets, please tell us. In the name of God, we will keep the secret, and all sins can be redeemed after sincere repentance."

The two of them tacitly left time and space for little John who was struggling inside.

Appropriate silence is more powerful than verbal questioning. It can be trust and tolerance, or it can be solemnity and pressure.

The basketmaker held the holy emblem tightly in his hand. In the silence, he could almost hear the wooden wings rubbing against his metacarpal bones.

"There was something about my father that caused a lot of trouble at the time."

Dominic patted the back of this man who was much older than him, just like a father comforting a child who had made a mistake, and encouraged him to continue. Some of the work that he had watched the priest do was learned by himself in a short period of time.

"Will you keep it a secret?"

"In the name of the Father."

After getting the assurance again, the man relaxed his pursed lips:
"I wasn't sure then, but now that I think about it, he might have done something he shouldn't have done..."

happy New Year!