Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Five days passed.
Five nights of prayer vigils.
Five nights of Sister Lilith leaving at the witching hour to help with Iris Maison’s baby.
Five nights and no sign of the missing Archie Maison.
Pandorian, Delilyx, and I were gathered around the breakfast table eating. I wondered where Reverend Mother had been, since I hadn’t seen much of her at all that week, when Sister Pandorian leaned in. “I think he ran off. Found a way out of Howl Moor and took it.”
“You think he’d just abandon his wife and family?” Delilyx responded, taking a bite of oatmeal. “I don’t believe anyone could do such a thing.”
“Plenty of men do,” Sister Pandorian replied.
“They can even still be church leaders after doing so. My friend, Sister Amethyst from Muddy Waters Cathedral, wrote to me saying their new bishop had a history of doing such things. Two families, six kids between them, he just up and left. Came to Muddy Waters, found god, and is now a bishop in charge of, get this, the marriage ministry. Trust me, it happens all the time. Yet Reverend Mother will be looked at sideways her whole prioress career for being a widow. Heck, a woman can leave a man like Muddy Waters’ bishop and be a social pariah. ”
“No way,” she said aghast. “Sister Jezebella, tell me such things are not true.”
I shrugged. “Probably is. Men get away with everything. We’ll always have to work twice as hard to get half the credit they do, at best.”
“Speaking of working hard, where is the new girl? Why aren’t you following after her like a little puppy this week?” Pandorian asked, scraping her spoon along her bowl. “Aren’t you two still joined at the hip?”
“She’s been leaving in the early morning hours to help with Iris’s baby, you know that, Sister.”
“Slipped my mind. It’s so quiet and peaceful in the mornings without her.” Pandorian nodded towards Bernard snoring in his dog bed by the stove. “He’s not growling and barking like crazy when she’s not here. It’s nice.”
“Where is Reverend Mother?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Her garden,” Sister Delilyx answered, plucking a blueberry from the bowl in the center of the table. “Conveniently the one place we aren’t allowed to go.”
“She probably needs some peace,” Sister Pandorian leaned in. “Father Benedict has been needier than usual, what with the unrest of the town over the missing person and all. I wouldn’t be surprised if Veilentine is writing his sermons entirely at this point.”
A man’s voice boomed into the room. “Good morning, Sisters.”
We all straightened as Father Benedict entered, shuffling to the stove and fiddling with a tea kettle. Sister Pandorian’s face turned beet red, and I resisted the urge to laugh.
“Good morning, Father,” I said, kicking Sister Delilyx under the table after she let out a mischievous giggle. The old priest was hard of hearing, and it didn’t seem he’d heard Sister Pandorian’s sentiments as he walked in.
“God has blessed us with another day,” he mumbled, struggling to light a match. “Glory to his name. I trust you all slept well?”
Unable to stand watching his feeble fingers struggling, I abandoned my cold oatmeal and joined his side. “Please, let me help you with that, Father.”
The priest, dressed in white robes, a collar, and his grey hair combed over his balding head, took a seat at the now deserted table.
Those chickens couldn’t even say goodbye before scurrying away.
After a few silent moments, steam hissed through the kettle, and I poured Father Benedict’s tea.
China clinked against the saucer as I put it before him, the old man idly gazing out the kitchen window, whispering incoherently to himself.
Every now and then, I’d pick up pieces of a bible verse, but more often than not, whatever he spoke to himself, or perhaps to god, was indiscernible.
I clutched my fingers together beneath my robes and bowed in the doorway, eager to retreat, when his gaze lifted to mine. “I’ve been watching you, Sister Jezebella.”
My backwards step paused mid beat. “Father?” I questioned, feeling my palms slicken with sweat. What had he seen? So much of what I’d done had felt hidden lately. Was it not as secret as I believed?
“You minister sufficiently, you seem accepted by the parish, and diligent in your service of the lord… however…” He squinted his eyes at me, wrinkling his forehead, as if attempting to peer straight through me. “You have an interesting soul, Sister.”
“Thank you, Father.”
“I am not so sure that is a compliment.”
My jaw froze. “What do you mean?”
“You have the knowledge of god through your mind, Sister. I wonder, do you have the calling of him in your heart?”
“Of course I do. I’ve vowed my life to christ, Father. I’ve— I’m—”
A hand landed on my shoulder. “Good morning,” Reverend Mother said lowly into the room.
“Apologies for my delay, Father.” Veilentine wiped dirt from her hands onto a rag at her side.
“It is rare to have a few days without rain. My garden has needed a lot of attention.” She breezed past me.
“And, admittedly, I have had a lot on my mind.”
Joining the priest at the breakfast table, she glanced up at me absently and addressed Father Benedict, though her gaze settled on me.
“I see she’s prepared your tea today.” Reverend Mother pulled his cup away, as if she’d toss it and remake it for him.
“Do you have need of Sister Jezebella, Father? Or may I dismiss her to the sisters’ elderly community care visits today? ”
Father Benedict’s attention drifted from me, and I finally let out a thin breath. Instead of answering, the priest merely hummed a hymn, losing himself in the melody.
Reverend Mother gathered his cup and saucer and glided to the stove. “Have a blessed day, Sister Jezebella.”
It was enough of a dismissal for me to scamper away like a field mouse from an owl’s nest. When I, at last, sucked in a lungful of fresh air, Sister Pandorian and Sister Delilyx were waiting for me by the iron gate.
“Thanks a lot for leaving me alone with Father Benedict,” I complained, marching through the gate. “Next time I’ll be sure to abandon each of you to hear him talk about your interesting souls.”
Sister Pandorian stifled a laugh. “Oh, believe me, we’ve had our share of strange encounters with the priest. Once he tried to tell me that my red hair was a gift from satan.”
“Well, isn’t it?” I asked, earning a jab in the ribs. “Ouch!”
Sister Delilyx twiddled her thumbs, looking downwards as she walked next to us. “Father Benedict told me my missing bible is a sign that god did not believe me ready or worthy of his word.”
“When did he say such a thing?” Sister Pandorian asked.
“After Mass this past Sunday.”
Sister Pandorian bristled. “He cannot brew his own tea yet believes god is punishing you for misplacing your bible? Perhaps god does not believe him worthy of a warm beverage. Did he ever think of that? Pay him no mind.”
“Bats took my bible,” Delilyx muttered, kicking a stone.
Sunday’s Mass had been a blur for me. With all the parishioners on edge, Reverend Mother had us standing near the altar to accompany folks in prayer, rather than sit at our regular pew.
My interactions with Sister Lilith had been seldom and few since she’d been spending the majority of her days and nights with Iris Maison.
Even Reverend Mother had been scarce, what with Father Benedict needing more of her assistance with the influx of parishioners visiting Altar Souls to pray and inquire after their missing towns member.
At the very least, I’d felt I’d grown a bit closer to Sister Pandorian and Sister Delilyx in the past two weeks.
They walked with me into town, subtly and secretively hooking their pinkies together.
Had they always done so and I just hadn’t noticed?
Or had they become comfortable sharing small, hidden affections around me now?
I hoped for the latter. It felt nice having what felt like friends for the first time in my life.
But now, just as I thought my place in life had settled, I swam into the depths of an angel of the lake, who turned out to be the visiting nun.
After my experience at my last church, the rejection and shame I’d felt in trying, and failing, to love another…
the ease in which our bodies had been together was enough to rock me to my foundation.
I found myself thinking of her constantly, wondering if she were thinking of me, too, and above all, hoping she was okay.
What if Archie Maison was merely lost and dazed in the woods somewhere?
What if he wandered home and found Iris and Lilith, what sort of state would he be in?
It was probably wrong my worries lied there and not with the man’s safety and wellbeing, but it was the truth of where my thoughts wandered.
Father Benedict had inquired as to my faith, my soul.
I didn’t know yet if they were the musings of an archaic religious man, or the insights of a godly priest, either way—he’d noticed more about me than I’d hoped anyone would.
“Looks like Sister Lilith finished at Iris Maison’s.” Sister Pandorian pointed out as we reached the square. “There she is going into Miss Honey’s for elderly rounds. She’s a fast learner, I’ll give her that.”
“I’ll catch up with you guys later,” I said, cutting through their secret-pinky-holding and jogging through the square. When I reached Miss Honey’s, her door was ajar. “Hello,” I greeted, letting myself in. Sister Lilith glanced over her shoulder from where she and Miss Honey stood at the sink.
“Sister Jezebella,” the elderly woman beamed.
“Sister Lilith has brought me your altar-blessed flour and sugar. Oh, I could just cry from happiness. To think Father would bless these especially for me.” Miss Honey busied herself, scooping the dry ingredients into a bowl.
“Please, have a seat by the fire. These scones won’t take long at all to bake. ”