Bonkers

Every few days, especially in summer, the glass in the main hall doors and windows would develop spots like translucent mold all around the base. The spots were raised and hard to see unless light hit the glass just right; otherwise they were nearly invisible.

M.E. knew this because his task was to clean the hall. He owned the task in late spring, when the spots began to appear; through early summer, when the spots were crustier and flowers in bloom; well into fall, when the frost began to stay until second meal.

Normally the house jobs rotated weekly among the older boys, so you would stop doing a task precisely when you became most effective. However, sensei Mark had a thing about clean windows, and M.E. happened to hold the job the first week the spots appeared. That week Sensei compared the mind to a mirror, and the tathagata as a mirror with not a single spot or stain. To illustrate he pointed at the windows, which reflected the interior of the room but had no forms within it. However, some forms were not perfectly reflected - spots obscured the reflection of the floorboards, cushions, and feet nearby. M.E. would clean this for tomorrow's discussion.

That evening, starting with a small bowl of vinegar and water, M.E. began to wipe the windows. The mix was weak but enough to shock M.E.s nose; other smells disappeared that night. Wiping glass and baseboard, but never seeing the spots, M.E. assumed they had gone. However, in class the next day the spots were still there, and M.E. was called out by Sensei for the miss.

Each night the battle would begin anew - he would fight the good fight, blind to the actual problem but scrubbing with commitment. Each day he would see how he'd done. He used candles and kept the door to the bathroom open, the faint light leaking into the hall casting more shadows than illuminating dark places. Every morning he would find out if he was successful. He couldn't clean the hall in the morning as the other students were in sitting meditation. Sometimes the spots were smeared, sometimes gone, but they would always return.

M.E. started to feel sick. His fingers were puckered and faintly yellow from vinegar, and he'd stopped recognizing smells altogether. Now his head and shoulders ached, and he had a fever. Where the spots killing him? He had heard of black mold when they cleaned the Kinder's Hall a few years before, but this was white. It never spread beyond the windows. M.E. was sure that he was keeping the mold from spreading throughout the monastery, and kept up his work even through his sickness.

At night he could see outdoor nightlife come alive through those windows - raccoons, possums, bats, foxes.