"Whew! Thank the Heavenly Father, it worked."
Kraft rushed into the office and, with the last of his strength, threw himself into a chair. He collapsed into a heap, as if his bones had vanished.
"Now that's rare. You're actually saying a few kind words to the Heavenly Father in private?"
Raymond pushed the cold breakfast forward, but the monastery's nominal head didn't even have the strength to lift a finger. He was lost in the softness of the cushions and looked unlikely to get up before the next proper meal.
Still, Raymond had only pushed the tray forward as a gesture, and to make room for the paperwork. He didn't expect Kraft to trouble himself with a bite or two, just as he'd never expected a certain someone to get up and do his work of his own accord.
Ever since those two unlucky kids returned from their exile at the foot of the mountain, Kraft had been making frequent trips between the operating room, the laboratory, and the wards. He occasionally showed up in the dining hall and at morning prayers, but almost never in the abbot's office.
That was life for you. Whatever you chose, you had to give something up.
Only after losing it did one realize just how precious it was to have a superior like Green, someone with a regular work schedule who could be found whenever trouble arose.
With someone like Kraft, you couldn't say he wasn't doing anything important. It was just that his idea of important work might differ slightly from everyone else's.
He would be drawn in by some sudden curiosity or responsibility, then devote himself wholeheartedly to tackling a new problem.
After that, either the problem would be completely solved, or he would prove it was a hopeless dead