Chapter 2 #2
Dread plunges through my middle as we continue between the pews until Reverend Mother directs me to sit on the front row, her spindly fingers pointing the way.
I enter the pew, and the room brightens once more as lightning cleaves the sky again.
I feel the son of God's gaze still on me as I take my seat.
Reverend Mother sits beside me. She leans over, her whisper prickling the side of my neck.
"You shall conduct yourself appropriately in the chapel, child. Entrance to the crypt beneath the church is strictly forbidden." The old woman side-eyes me. "Hear me now and hear me well, girl. The dead are to remain undisturbed. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Reverend Mother."
Of course, there is a crypt here. How disturbingly appropriate. I don't dwell on it, though. I need to figure out a way home.
I can't call my grandfather. My phone is long-dead, and I don't have a charger. Would any of the sisters have one? Are nuns even allowed phones? I don't know.
But I do know asking Reverend Mother to speak with Grandpapa will get me a fast ticket to nowhere. I mull over my options as a dull thud resounds deep from the shadows at the rear of the church.
The cadence of steady footfalls sounds before a man emerges from the darkness and into the dim light.
I stare, even though I shouldn't.
All eyes are on the man with the white collar at his neck.
Lightning flashes again, brightening the inside of the chapel, and whatever breath is left in my lungs incinerates to ash.
Holy men shouldn't look like he does.
He is tall and lithe, sin in the flesh, with eyes the color of dark honey and a perfect pout.
He's older than me, in his early thirties perhaps, and I feel the skip as my heart staggers in its rhythm.
I blame it on hope. This man has sworn an oath before God to help those in need, and surely, that must include me.
He is my way out of here.
The Father walks up the steps to the dais, takes his place behind it, and opens his Bible. His gaze reaches across the pews, starting at the back and ending in the front, where I sit beside Reverend Mother.
His eyes find mine, and I silently beg him for help, but he quickly looks down at the open book before him.
"Good morning, Sisters," he says to the nuns.
"Good morning, Father Damienne," they echo back.
"What have I told you?" he chastises, amusement glinting in his gaze.
A chorus of "Good morning, Father Ezra" sounds through the chapel.
"Much better," he says with a small smile. "Now, let us pray."
The sisters around me bow their heads until I'm the only one left looking at the man.
As though he can feel my stare, his gaze lifts from the Bible, the smile on his lips dying as our eyes meet.
"The Lord is my shepherd," he says, his watchful eyes still locked on mine.
"The Lord is my shepherd," the girls repeat.
Help. Me. I mouth to the Father.
"I shall not want," he says as I continue to stare at him.
"I shall not want," the nuns echo.
I try again, mouthing the words once more.
"He makes me lie down in green pastures," he says, his voice echoing in the rafters as we continue to look at each other. "He leadeth me beside the still waters."
If he knows what I'm trying to tell him, he doesn't show it. He continues to pray, and the sisters repeat his words.
"I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever," the nuns echo.
"Amen," he says, finally severing our stare.
"Amen," they all say, raising their heads.
Reverend Mother drops a book of Psalms into my lap as morning prayer continues in the same pattern. Father Ezra tells us the words, and then the sisters repeat after him.
All the while, that desperate coldness in my middle spreads until all of me shivers.
He will surely help me, I think. He's a priest, after all, and I can't be here. I'm being held against my will, and if I could just speak with Grandpapa, I'm sure he'd let me come home. But as I continue to try to get his attention, Father Ezra gives no indication he understands my pleas.
As morning prayer ends and the sisters stand, I follow Reverend Mother out of the pew.
"Reverend Mother Graves," a voice says behind us, the words slow and thick like a pour of melted caramel.
Reverend Mother turns, and I stop behind her as the priest arrives across from us.
"I see we have a visitor," he says, his kind eyes landing on me.
She nods her head. "Yes, this is Ms. Immorier. Ms. Immorier, this is Father Damienne."
"Please call me Father Ezra," he tells me.
"Father," I manage, refusing to look at Reverend Mother, "there's been a mistake. My grandfather … if I could speak to him …"
"Your grandfather …" he murmurs, looking expectantly at Reverend Mother. "I'm sure a phone call could be arranged. Isn't that right, Georgina?"
"Of course," Reverend Mother agrees with a sharp nod.
"Very good," he says, looking at me again. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Ms. Immorier."
The words have just escaped his mouth before Reverend Mother's skeletal fingers dig into the crook of my elbow, yanking me between the pews and then outside beneath the covered walkway and into the main building.
Once inside the building, she turns sharply, rising to her full height.
There's a sharp strike to my forearm, and it's like a thousand rubber bands snap against my skin at once.
OW!!! What the …
I recoil as Reverend Mother bares her teeth.
"What did I tell you this morning, girl?" she hisses, raising her cat-o'-nine-tails.
My thoughts sprint ahead, trying to catch up.
She hit me! The crazy bat hit me!
"Do not cause trouble!" she finishes, striking me again. My entire forearm ignites in misery.
SHIT! THAT HURTS!!!
I lurch away from her, holding my injured arm.
"You are a ward in my care," she snarls, grabbing my burning arm, "I expect you to listen! Do you understand?"
"Yes," I cough out, pain squeezing my throat.
"Yes, what?" she snarls.
"Yes, Reverend Mother."
My injured flesh sizzles as the sheen of the leather of the cat-o'-nine-tails glints beneath the hallway light.
She inhales sharply through her nose.
"Now, compose yourself, child," she demands. "We have a long day ahead."
A breath later, she snatches my injured forearm from its cradle against my chest and starts away down the hall, wrenching me with her. I stumble to keep up, and as my gaze lifts from the floor, I spot a figure standing at the end of the hall, watching us from the shadows.
But then, I blink, and the figure vanishes like it was never there at all.