The conversation with the abbess was like doing a final exam โ mentally draining. Maybe because I was already drained as it was, or maybe because I was facing two problems back to back. Getting rid of Samson, and now defending myself before sister Evelyn.
Her voice stayed neutral for the most part, but I felt as though at any moment it would declare with authority, ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ'๐ณ๐ฆ ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต! So I had to sound convincing, and appear the meekest.
When she asked me about the funeral incident, I knew I had to be consistent with the rat story I had told Rosalyn Jackson.
"How does this relate to you insulting a woman?"
I gave her my most miserable look. "I was startled."
"Startled," repeated sister Evelyn dryly. "Is this why you called her," โ a glance at the accusatory letter in her hands โ "A filthy animal?"
"Yes." My voice was small. "And I deeply regret it."
"I am sure you do."
I shifted in my seat. "Sister Jeanne's friend had condemned his soul to eternal damnation. The horror of itโฆit's justโI was moved."
"Mhm, so moved that you called his folks a," โ another glance at the letter โ "a bunch of sinners and told them to rot in hell?"
"If only I could take back my wordsโฆ" I stared at her pleadingly. "Butโ"
"There is a ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต?"
"Reverend mother," I uttered gravely, "in all honestly, besides sister Jeanne none of them mourned him."
"People mourn differently, Genevieve. Some through tears, some through indifference. Some may even laugh. Have you never seen a sad man put on a happy face?"
"I have."
The abbess took her glasses off, rubbed her old nose bridge with old wrinkly fingers. "In forty-seven years of holding this position, I have never once received a letter with an accusation against a nun. And I should not have to receive such letters at all. Why?" She stretched meaningfully. "Because I believe myself to be a decent prioress perfectly capable of discerning devout women ready to take on their christian duties with dignity and fervor. Sister Rosalyn assured me of your benign demeanor. Surely there is an explanation for this letter and your unorthodox behavior." She regarded me with cold intent.
๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ธ๐ข๐ฏ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ด๐ข๐บ!
"Forgive me, reverend mother. Iโtruthfully don't know what had gotten into me. It must be all the stress."
"This was your response after you had yelled at the poor child during the holy communion. If you recall?"
My shoulders drooped. "I do."
"And do you recall our conversation?"
"You told me to exercise temperance."
"You heard my words all right but did not heed to them so well."
My hands formed tight fists. Lord only knew how I wished to punch her with them.
"I promise to do better, reverend mother." I told her, voice thin and eyes down.
"Better will not do. Much, ๐ฎ๐ถ๐ค๐ฉ better," she muttered, then sighed. "I understand you are young and passionate, bursting to make it known how you feel or what you want to do, and what your agenda is. But you have chosen to adhere to the guidance of saint Benedict, that is, patience over passion. Patience is the path to peace. And where is peace, there is God. Don't let yourself stir off God's path. Please, take a moment to make sense of my words."
I would make sense of her words only many years later, when I would wither to her age, to those old hands and deep wrinkles. But not then, at the age of nineteen, when I gawked into her pale eyes with clueless shame and nodded ๐ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ณ๐ด๐ต๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ when ๐ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ. ๐ง๐ถ๐ค๐ฌ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ. ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ต.
The abbess frowned at the letter. "I will resolve this incident," she said and gave me a stern look, "the ๐ด๐ฆ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ one this month. I will not disregard the third. Genevieve, learn to tame your temper with prayer like all good nuns do."
"Yes, reverend mother. I will."
"Good," she sighed. "Go now, child. May God assist you."
๐๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ฏ'๐ต, I wanted to retort.
On my way out of the abbess's office, I bumped into Valeria. She gave me a nervous look. When I disregarded her and kept walking away, assuming she still wasn't in the mood for speaking, she leveled with me and finally spoke.
"Why were you in there? Is it because of what happened at the funeral?"
"Are we talking now?"
I increased my pace, but Valeria kept up.
"We are."
"Wow." I huffed.
She let out a heavy sigh. "Listen, I'm sorry for ignoring you. I've just been mentally fried. With all this shit happening, you know? The fire. Then cattle. Then Ronanโฆa lot to take in, you know?"
I glanced at her with little care. "I can imagine."
"Hey." She pulled me by the sleeve to stop me. "About the funeralโฆI don't know what she told you in there, butโI just want you to know I'm not mad at you."
Perhaps it was because I was already heated from sister Evelyn's rebuke, but Val's words poured gasoline on fire.
"And I wouldn't give a shit if you were. I said what I said, I stand by it. Those ungrateful fucks can all go to hell." Matter-of-fact. That's how I sounded.
Valeria froze, gawked at me.
I smiled. "Anyway, I should go now. Her reverence told me to pray more. Ehh. Being a good girl is so exhaustingโฆyou know?"
She kept gawking.
I turned around, waved and left her to stand there dumbfounded.