Sunday, September 30, 2012

chapter 133



word count: 1676

while catching mrs. dunn unawares was not as difficult as tobin and his boys had originally thought it might be,, the battle was not yet won.. yes,, they had managed to get the duct tape over her mouth easy enough,, but getting her into a chair,, and restraining her there was proving to be much more difficult than it should have been..

for a seemingly innocent enough looking old lady,, this broad knew how to put up a fight.. as tobin stood,, gun drawn overseeing his two henchmen as they struggled to keep her in the chair long enough to secure her flailing extremities and restrain her there,, mrs. dunn kicked and scratched and contorted herself in ways a woman of her age should never have been able to achieve.. 

finally, tobin,, having seen enough,, jumped in and slammed the butt of his gun across the back of mrs. dunn’s skull, rendering her deathly quiet,, and helpless enough to be secured in the chair without further ado.. he hadn’t really wanted to hurt the old lady,, and had she cooperated,, and acted like the little old lady she was,, he wouldn’t have chosen this way of subduing her,, but by tobin’s unethical standards,, every second counted,, and the battle with this little lady was cutting into the time he had to work his magic on detective miller,, who after all,, was his intended victim.. 

once they had mrs. dunn subdued,, securely fastened to the chair,, and silenced,, at least for now,, tobin signaled for one of his accomplices, rodney the rooster, (as he was dubbed due to the fact that he had started his career in crime as a look out and would crow like a rooster to signal the guys actually doing the job actually if anything had gone awry and they needed to back off) to move silently toward the living room and get a status on buzz.. 

as rodney the rooster stealthily peeked around the corner,, he saw a scantily clad buzz, reclining in his favorite chair,, wearing nothing more than a ‘wife beater’ tee shirt,, and a pair of sweats, one leg cut off above the knee to accommodate his newly wounded leg.. he was paging through what passed as a newspaper these days,, and sipping on a cold beer.. by all appearances the scuffle in the kitchen had gone unnoticed,, and it looked as they still had the advantage of surprise.. 

rodney nodded to tobin,, cluing him in that it was a go,, and the threesome silently made their way to the entrance way that lead from the kitchen to the living room.. 

tobin entered the living room,, his henchmen dutifully on his six.. 

“well, well, well,,” he sang out as he entered the living room.. “look s like the new albany’s finest,, isn’t doing so well….” 

before he even had the words fully out of his mouth,, buzz triple tapped him in the heart directly through the newspaper.. 

with the advantage of surprise still on his side,, buzz emptied his SIG into the henchmen,, none of them a kill shot,, but he put enough of a hurting on them to buy himself enough time to slip the clip,, and jump into a standing position.. he kicked tobins weapon out of reach and delivered a skillful shot in the direction of each of the prone men, as he screamed “drop your fucking weapons!!”

in one seemingly choreographed movement,, buzz kicked rodney’s  side arm out of reach,, and armed himself with the luger that still lay at his feet.. 

when the uniforms finally arrived,, buzz still stood over tobin’s lifeless body,, his SIG trained on rodney,, and the other man’s luger pointed directly at his head...  

the uniforms sauntered to the door,, and rang the bell,, as far as they knew they were here on a security detail and nothing more..

“take it down!!” buzz yelled at the unsuspecting officers,, who responded immediately by bringing the door crashing off its hinges and onto the living room floor.. 

“i got this!” buzz yelled out to the uniforms as they entered guns drawn,, at this point ready for anything.. 

“my housekeeper,, they got my housekeeper!! they’ve restrained her in the kitchen.. one of you check her  out,, and the other throw some cuffs on these maggots before i change my mind and put a live one through each of their heads!!”

***

if the truth be told,, trudy’s little encounter with father brown in the confessional had kind of pissed her off..  the sisters were kind and understanding,, everything they said to her came by way of a suggestion,, whereas father brown had been less than complacent,, even rude,, telling her to shut up and all,, only to follow it up with a penance trudy had no intention of fulfilling.. 

as she exited the confessional,, she shook it off well enough that none of the sisters seemed any the wiser.. but she harbored her distaste for father brown,, and decided that even though she had confessed her sins,, and as a result was supposedly absolved and in a state of grace worthy of accepting the sacrament,, if it was father brown who was dishing it out,, she was having no part of it.. 

she would cross that road when she came to it,, and by then she would have worked out a story to explain her noncompliance to the sisters,, without directly pointing the finger at father brown.. 

when trudy reentered the kitchen following her confession,, the faces of the sisters glowed with exuberance.. it seemed as though each of them found a sense of peace (or was it conquest) in knowing that trudy’s sins had been absolved, and she was now in a position to begin again,, a brand new life in god’s good graces.. 

“we’ve prepared a lovely dinner.” sister terese said invitingly..

“please come join us in god’s bounty.” sister martha said as she guided trudy to the farm style table.. 

“everything on the table here tonight we either grew or raised ourselves.. we take great pride in our ability to remain self-sustaining, and even greater joy in being able to share it with you..”  remarked sister rebecca as he took her seat nearest trudy on the hard wood bench.. 

the feast was abundant.. there were oven roasted chickens, fresh beans, collards and sweet buttered acorn squash.. milk was  the beverage of choice,, and it was of the unpasteurized version.. trudy had never tasted anything like it before.. true,, she had never been what one would call a milk drinker,, but perhaps that was because it had never tasted like this.. 

“today was a rather unusual day.. we are not often blessed with the presence of a guest,, and therefore built the majority of our day around your being here.. tomorrow i am afraid we will have to revert to our regular daily schedule and we are hoping you will be willing to take part in our humble daily activities with us..” sister esther instructed them as a group,, and they all nodded in agreement when she got to the part about trudy’s joining them in their normal daily routines.. 

“you see young trudy, ( wow trudy couldn’t help but think to herself.. no one had called her young in quite some time).. we are a community of farmers.. our vocation is to nurture all that god has given us,, and often to do so we find ourselves engaging in what some may believe to be tasks of tedium,, but to us it is the work of our blessed lord.. we take it very seriously.."

“you slept through the majority of the chores today,, but tomorrow you will be expected to do your fair share..” sister rebecca concluded in a somewhat motherly tone.. 

“we believe that idle hands are the devils plaything,, and there for, come sunrise you will be included in our routine daily tasks..” chimed in sister ruth..  “ i was hoping you would take pleasure in joining me in the gardens tomorrow,, as sisters rebecca and sister esther will be away on a mission of mercy,, and i will be alone in tending to the gardens in their absence.. “

“well sure.” trudy acquiesced clearly having no idea what tending to the gardens might entail,, but willing to give anything a try.. once..

as the meal concluded,, it became evident that cleanup was done as a group effort,, as each sister carefully washed and dried her own dinner service.. sister ruth washed the pots and pans as the other sisters fell into step wiping counter tops,, shining appliances,, sweeping floors,, returning items to the cupboards and the small ice box (and i literally mean an ice box)..

trudy looked on in amazement as everything just seemed to get done,, quickly and efficiently.. in fact she was so caught off guard as to the ease of operation with which the sisters saw to the task at hand,,  that she really didn’t stop to think what part she should have been taking in all of this.. 

it was then that sister terese approached her with a large cast iron pot filled with what appeared to be a full days vegetable trimmings and table scraps.. 

“these will need to be delivered to abraham and sarah.. they are anxiously awaiting their arrival no doubt.” she said as she handed the heavy pot off to trudy and began walking toward the back door.. 

“abraham and sarah??” trudy looked puzzled.

“why our hogs of course..” sister terese continued,  “you will find their pen just up the path,, to the left past the facilities.. careful now,, don’t lean in too far,, sometimes they can be rather,, shall we say,, over exuberant??”

a titter of laughter rose up amongst the sisters and willed the cool night air in the kitchen.. 

“you’ll be needing this..” sister rebecca said as she handed trudy’ a lighted coal oil lamp,, which trudy struggled to take from her without upsetting the contents of the heavy cast iron pot..

with that,  sister rebecca swung the kitchen door open wide and trudy disappeared into the dark moonless night..







Friday, September 28, 2012

Chapter 132

word count 1252

Trudy plopped down on the wooden outhouse seat and let her water go. It streamed down, landing with a soft thud in the endless hollow below. The stench in the tiny box filled her nose with its unsavory vapors. This simplistic living could take time to get used to. She looked for paper to wipe herself but found none.

Then it was back to the kitchen again, walking in the inky darkness, holding the lantern high to see her way. Sister Esther awaited her, settled at the table with gauze and tape, sponges and a basin of water at the ready.

"Come here, dear! Let me change your dressing." She shot Trudy a shy smile,

Trudy sat. As she waited for the sister's ministrations, that lady spoke as she busied herself.

"This wound...how did you get it?" She asked matter-of-factly. But when Trudy heard the question, it produced pure panic. How could she tell this woman of the Lord that a thug has winged her with a bullet, a bullet intended to kill her?

"Well, I...er...slipped and fell."

Sister Esther looked at her, wide-eyed, her sapphire blues glowing. "Oh, I don't think so, miss! That's a graze wound from a bullet if ever I saw one."

"What?"

"Come on, dear! We all may be the sisters of mercy now, but we all came from somewhere else."

"Well, yeah." Trudy replied. Even so, she felt "dirty" around the sisters, regardless of their histories, they were women of the cloth now.

"You know, I'm not sure you've said much about yourself at all. Your name, for example."

"Trudy...Trudy Hunt."

“'Trudy,' now that's a pretty name.” Sister finished the dressing and went about the task of placing her supplies in a white metal box.  She slammed it shut. “When you're ready, you can tell me about the bullet wound. I've got to go to morning mass right now. Would you like to come?”

Trudy hadn't seen the inside of a church since that fateful day of getting her diploma in church. Her heart did nervous jumps at the thought of returning to that place she had so diligently left behind years ago. But Sister Esther's wide-eyed invitation would be difficult to turn down. Indeed, the invite bordered on simple hospitality, to share the life the sisters knew with a welcome visitor. She swallowed her reservations and smiled.

“Certainly, I'm right behind ya!” she said. “As soon as I neaten up my appearance.”

“Speaking of that, your clothes...they are a bit risqué for church. Would you mind changing? I'm sure Sister Martha would have a dress in your size.”

The critique of her clothes smacked Trudy in the face. No one had ever commented on her outfit before, at least not out loud to her. She looked down at her black lace, form-fitting dress. The stretchy fabric clung to her breasts, making two huge, lacy mounds, hard not to notice; while the length of the frock only reached to just below her crotch. Not much left for the imagination there. Perhaps Sister Esther made a good point.

Later, she sat, dressed in a baggy black jumper, in the back of the chapel, while Father Brown, who came from the nearby parish, performed mass. The sisters sang the liturgy like angels. But when Trudy heard their soft notes, it sent her mind back to being a kid, stuck in church when she didn't want to be. The old hymns came back readily, but they didn't make for the best of memories.

At communion time, the sisters formed a proper line to approach the railing. Sister Esther had cautioned Trudy not to go up for communion unless she wanted to confess her sins first. Confess her sins, ha! That would take a couple of days, hell, maybe a couple centuries.

But her conscience nagged her, the urge she had had lately to start over, be better, clean up her ways. It wouldn't stop.

That afternoon, she found herself in the confessional. When Father Brown came for mass, he always kept himself available for the sacrament before he went back to his regular parish. Unfortunately for Trudy, the sisters preferred this old-fashioned way, one to one in the confessional, rather than any sort of modern day group reconciliation.

Trudy sat kneeling in the dark when the drape on Father's side whooshed open.

What was she supposed to say? Sister Esther had told her. What was it? She remembered, sort of.

“Um, bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Now she was supposed to list her sins. “I have lied, cheated, been mean to people. Oh, and I've slept with hundreds of men.”

A bump sounded on the other side, followed by a coughing spree, a very long one, before Father Brown spoke. “Excuse me?”

“I have lied, cheated...”

He broke in. “What was that about sleeping with hundreds of men? Are you one of the sisters?”

“No, no! I'm visiting. And I guess it's hundreds. I mean it's been a long time since I went to confession. All these years, so many men, it could be thousands, but I don't think so.”

He cleared his throat. “I think I'm going to need more information. Were you married to any of these men?”

“Well, sometimes. I have a little boy, so now and then, I'd marry one to give him a stepfather. Never worked out. Ya know, there aren't a lot of good men out there. I've looked high and low...”

“SHUT UP! I mean, quiet, my child!”

“Yes, Father.”

“It seems to me that you are self-centered, playing with other people's emotions as well as your own. I'm giving you a penance to do good works in service to others for three months. Each day, you must do three favors for someone, and practice five minutes of silence each day while you listen to the concerns of others. And of course, say three Our Fathers and twenty Hail Marys every day. While you're at it, ask Mary to grant you virtue and morality and the wisdom on how to be a model mother. Go in peace, my child!”

The curtain swooshed shut.

***
Buzz sat alone in the living room perusing the newspaper and enjoying a cold beer. The clatter of Mrs. Dunn in the kitchen washing up the dishes was a soothing sound, the kind of noise that transforms a mere house into a home.

He'd been thinking about Joe Tobin. He knew the guy had it in for him. Buzz 
had come close to being delivered to Tobin like meat from the butcher shop, wrapped up tidy and tied with string. Thank Gawd he'd managed to break free and thwart Mrs. Johnson's attempts to turn him over. But that still meant a disgruntled Joe Tobin was out there somewhere.

Finally, he decided to do something that had, at first, seemed unthinkable. But it was the right thing to do. He needed help. He grabbed his cell phone.

“Hi, put me through to homicide. Hey, Gil. Buzz here. Send a couple uniforms over here, would you? A couple of the better guys. I could use a protection detail. I've got a bad feeling about Joe Tobin, and as you know, I'm not up to par. Thanks, Gil.”

He hung up, feeling reassured. What he didn't know was that Joe Tobin and his thugs were already in his house in the kitchen. They had Mrs. Dunn gagged, and they were tying her to a chair.



Wednesday, September 26, 2012

chapter 131



word count: 1675

the dim light that seeped in around the edges of the tightly drawn shade made trudy wonder if it was morning or evening.. she had lost all concept of time,, and in the sparsely furnished room  in which she found herself there was definitely no clock.. in fact,, she didn’t see a single electrical appliance.. even the lamp was an old hurricane lamp,, the kind her grandmother had had back in the day in her ornately furnished ‘parlor’.. 

well if there was one thing trudy knew for sure,, whatever that was they had her drinking last night had really kicked her ass.. she made a mental note to try and make off with some if at all possible when she left outta this place.. a couple of sips,, and blotto!!! that kind of thing could come in handy for a girl about town like trudy.. 

“oh shit!” she said aloud,, but not so loud that the nuns might hear her,, as she reflected on the reason she was there in the first place.. here she was,, supposed to be ‘reformed’,, and then she goes and jumps in the first car with the first guy that she came across!!!

“and how'd that work out for ya??” she asked herself as she snuggled back into the soft feather bed and pulled the down comforter over her head..

“uuuggghhh!!” she moaned.. it was all too much to wrap her mind around right this minute.. who was that guy?? was he like some serial killer or did he have it out for her in particular?? how could he?? she had never laid eyes on him before,, well as far as she could remember anyway.. however,, if the truth be told there were more than a few faces she had failed to be able to remember over the course of the last few years.. 

trudy reconsidered her commitment to changing her ways.. on one hand had she stuck with her new found ideals,, she would have never gotten into that car.. but on the other hand,, nothing like that had ever happened to her before.. sure there was a long list of guys she wished she had never hopped into bed with,, but had this thing worked out the way she had originally planned,, she doubted the guy that ended up taking more than a couple of shots at her would have been one of them..

tall, good looking,, built like a brick shit house,, and that hair.. that thick black italian kinda hair,, all neatly slicked back like it was.. she kind of trembled just thinking about him.. 

“what the fuck is wrong with me??” she asked herself, not really expecting a reply..  

“that asshole tried to kill me!! and i’m here wondering what it would have been like to be trapped beneath that chiseled frame, staring into those beautiful black almond eyes.. there is something really fucking wrong with me!!” she admitted to herself, as she nestled down deeper in the folds of the soft feather bed.. 

in the distance she heard the ringing of what sounded like a small bell,, followed by the hum of what could easily be mistaken for some kind of chanting.. 

the light that had been peeping in the about the edges of the shade were dimming.. it was evening.. she had slept the whole day away.. 

and then it hit her!! vespers!! the bell,, the chant like prayers,, she hadn’t heard them in years,, but it was all coming back to her now.. the nuns that over saw the dormitory at that abortion of a catholic school her mother had sent her too,, they said vespers every night at dusk too.. in fact it was the only time she was ever able to sneak away and catch a smoke without having to worry about one of them hunting her down and punishing her with a string of hail mary’s and our fathers, and whatever the hell else they called the rest of those mindless prayers.. 

trudy’s first thought was to wait it out.. they would be going to bed soon.. she could sneak out while they were sleeping,, and they would be none the wiser.. but then she remembered those medicinal spirits,, and how much she wanted to get her hands on some of them before she made her great escape.. 

escape to where?? she had nowhere to go.. no one cared.. in fact no one had probably even noticed she was missing..  fuck them all!! buzz, gil, john!! where were any of them when she really needed them??

“useless pieces of meat!” she muttered under her breath as she sat bolted upright with disgust.. it was all their fault.. all their fault she was in this mess.. all their fault that she had been gotten over on by simone.. the very sound of that name made trudy’s skin crawl..

oh but she would get her,, she would tell the cops everything she knew about simone’s devotion to brenda, and how simone had admitted to her in intricate detail that she had every intention of poisoning gil that night at her apartment.. oh yeah.. in that she was secure,, she had simone by the short hairs.. 

as her blood reached the boiling point,, she realized she had to pee,, and that meant leaving this cozy little nook and actually facing the sisters somewhere along the line.. 

“a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.” she told herself as she pulled her form fitting black lace dress back down where it belonged and headed for the door..  maybe she’d get lucky and she could hit the head without being noticed.. maybe the sisters would be so wrapped up in the saying of their vespers,, they wouldn’t even notice she had come out of her room at all.. 

she crept silently to the door,, and opened it with great caution so as to not make any noise.. however as soon as she stepped on the glossy hard wood floor just outside her bedroom door it gave way with an unmistakable creaking sound.. 

“damn these old houses!!”

her cover blown,, she made her way down the dimly lit hall,, and seeing no bathroom along the way,, she sought out the sisters.. 

she found them in what could have only been an old gothic chapel.. all smooth stone and hard wood kneelers.. the door had been left open,, and she watched them for a moment as they recited their vesper prayers from memory..

“such devotion..” she thought silently to herself.. “what else could cause a bunch of old ladies to kneel on those hard wooden kneelers every night.” 

as she was wondering just how painful that must have been, on their old knees,, one of the sisters she recognized as having been in the car when they picked her up on the side of the road, rose silently, expertly genuflected in front of the massive antique crucifix that dominated the small altar,, turned toward trudy,, and silently made her way out into the hall.. the remaining sisters never missed a beat..

as she stepped into the hallway,, the sister silently pulled the chapel door closed behind her,, took trudy by the arm and lead her into the spacious kitchen before she spoke.. 

“we were wondering when you were going to join us.. i’m sister esther,, you may remember me from last night.. of course you had had quite a day before we crossed paths so i wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.. welcome to our humble home.. we are the sisters of mercy.. a small cloister to be sure,, but somewhat successful in our own right as well..” she carried on as trudy just took it all in.. 

“we are almost completely self-sufficient here,, in fact if we hadn’t been running low on coal oil for the lamps,, we two might never have crossed paths.. thanks be to god that we did!!” 

sister esther’s face just glowed with pride as she went on to tell trudy a short history of the cloister,, and explained to her that they were sisters,, not really nuns at all,, as they ministered to the community thru charitable acts like feeding the poor from their vast gardens,, taking in lost souls or more often than not people that just had nowhere else to go,, and serving as tutors to the many children that would have otherwise fallen thru the cracks of the public school system..  had they been nuns,, she explained they would have found their calling strictly within the confines of the church,, and not involve themselves with the non-catholic community.. 

“but there will be more than enough time to expound on all that.” sister esther cut herself off.. 

“what is of real importance now is that we get you something to eat,, and change the dressing on your wounds..”

“hey,” trudy piped in quickly, as this had been  the first break in sister esther’s monologue since she had encountered her at the door of the chapel. “you gotta bathroom around here somewhere i could use??”

“why certainly..” answered sister esther with a warm smile,, as she lead trudy to the rear door of the kitchen,, lighted the wick on an old glass and metal lantern, and opened wide the door.. 

“you will find it directly at the end of this cobblestone path.. the facilities are not luxurious by any means,, but functional.. oh yes.. that they are..”

“this is totally not happening!” trudy said to herself as soon as sister esther closed the kitchen door behind her.. 

“i am not walking down a cobblestone path, barefoot, in the middle of the night, to use a freaking outhouse!!” 

“oh yes you are!!” she answered herself aloud as she allowed herself to break out in a sincere fit of heartfelt laughter.. it occurred to her, as she held the lantern at arm’s length and tentatively entered the pitch black outhouse,, that it had been a long time since she had laughed like that.. a real long time.. too long.. 

hey, maybe this wasn’t gonna be such a bad experience after all.. 

Tuesday, September 25, 2012

Chapter 130

word count  1086

Joe Tobin shut off the TV and threw the remote across the room. It landed with a thud on the carpeted area between his brown leather sofa and matching chair. Grabbing up the newspaper, he scanned page after page, flipping the sheets with a dissatisfied crackle.

“DAMN!” Nothing. He'd listened to every bit of news on the radio and TV and scanned the Internet. And now he'd covered every inch of the morning paper, and not one word of a body found on or near those stinkin' railroad tracks. He stuck a fat cigar in his mouth and drew a puff, then exhaled it with gusto.

He got an idea, flipping through the paper again until he found the obituaries. What the hell was her last name anyway? Oh well, her first name was Trudy.  Scanning the list of names to find either a Trudy or a Gertrude brought up nothing.

Laying down the cigar in a thick, glass ashtray, he picked up the phone and hit speed dial.

“Lenny, did you check out those railroad tracks for me?...Nothing? Did ya ask around?...Hmmph! Well, keep workin'! That broad couldn't disappear into thin air!”

He hung up and sat brooding in silence, running a hand front to back along his slick black hair in one thoughtful sweep. He should have stayed to make sure she was dead. Then his face lit up. If there was one place she probably would go, it would be straight to Buzz Miller. And that was the very cop he was trying to hurt in the first place.

And then it hit him. Wheels turned in his head. Why bother with the girl? Go for a direct hit. Just because the other deal to “buy” him from Mrs. Johnson and her son fell through, it didn't mean he couldn't still get Miller. If he took a good many men to back him up, he could get that stupid cop after all. Who needed the dame, dammit? ​The cop wasn't up to par, being wounded, and he was holed up at home away from his fellow pigs. It might just be easy pickings! It would feel good to make that bastard pay for taking away ten long years of his life, for slamming him behind bars to rot.

“Yup, there's more than one way to do things. Here I come, Miller!” he murmured. He got his gun from its special perch on a closet shelf, threw on his coat and hurried out.

***

Buzz scanned the obituaries. The listings were a last resort. Gil said he tried her old job and her ex-husband but came up empty. His heart was beating faster as he ran his index finger down the list. Honestly, if he found her name there, he didn't know what he would do.

“Detective Miller, the coffee is ready. Would you like some?” Mrs. Dunn already had surmised his answer as she laid the steaming mug on a table by him, the rich brown liquid swam in a mug with “Buzz” plastered on it in red jagged letters, a gag gift from his department. She stood back and studied him.

“You look terribly concerned, Detective.”

He shot her a quick glance. He already knew she didn't think much of Trudy. So he dared not say what was really on his mind.

“I was just thinking about an old friend...ah...who has been ill.”

'Oh, how dreadful! Is your friend on a special diet? I could bake a little something to take to him.”

“No, Mrs. Dunn! That won't be necessary.” He rubbed his chin back and forth in a pensive motion. “Actually, I haven't talked to this friend in a while. He wouldn't be expecting to see me.”

“Well, all the more reason to go bearing gifts.” She paused, wondering what friend he could be talking about. She knew most of his business, more than he realized as she lurked in every corner, listening when he was on the phone. She read his mail. Everything. The only person he'd mentioned missing ...a light went off in her eyes. “Oh my! You're talking about that woman, aren't you?”

His face turned several shades of scarlet, like a kaleidoscope gone wild.  Stuttering, he tried to explain. “She hasn't been seen since she got released from jail.”

“And good riddance to her!”

That was the problem, he couldn't seem to say 'good riddance' to Trudy. She always came back in his life like a bad penny...except not this time. This time she'd completely disappeared.

***

Trudy woke up and her head was swimming. At first she panicked, not remembering where she was, what had happened. The pain in her arm brought it all home. She'd been shot. And those kindly women had brought her home to this huge Gothic structure. The rest was fuzzy...something about medicine and stitches. She bolted up to look at her arm. It was neatly bandaged. Running her finger along the mass of gauze and tape, she felt  bumps underneath, probably the stitches.

Well, at least she appeared to be well cared for. She leaned back and relaxed. Her eyes shot straight ahead, resting on an ornate-looking crucifix hanging on the far wall. It appeared to be centuries old with finely chiseled features, no sleek, modern lines whatsoever. She shuddered. It took her by surprise. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen a crucifix.

Yes, she could. It was on graduation day back at Catholic school when she was a kid. Father Devlin passed each girl her diploma as she knelt at the communion railing, like it was some kind religious experience to finish high school. She remembered staring straight ahead at the altar, eyes riveted on the crucifix, rather than tuning into the ridiculous graduation ceremony. Who gets their high school diploma at church?

Her mother thought the religious school experience would settle her down and transferred her there in her sophomore year. It was oppressive, spending countless hours in the cold, dark church at mass every morning and weekly lectures on morality with Father Devlin. Like that guy knew about sex! And the school was taught by nuns. History and Science were mixed with the sanctimonious air of religion. She rebelled. That's when it all started, the worst of it, her refusal to play nice be good. She drove the sisters crazy.

Trudy bolted up in bed. The sisters! Oh my God! That's who those women who found her along the road were...they were nuns!


Monday, September 24, 2012

chapter 129

word count: 1368

as the two plainly dressed good samaritans ushered trudy into what turned out to be the kitchen door,,  she was somewhat surprised to see three other women,, all with close cropped hair and similar plain dark clothing,, having what could easily have been mistaken as afternoon tea at an over sized wooden bench style table,, had there been any teacups in sight.. 

“sisters,” the gray haired woman that had rescued her on the side of the road started, “this young lady has been injured.. sister rebecca and i found her crawling through a clearing just off the side of the main road,, and thought it best that we bring her here and at least access her injuries..”

“please,” one of the women at the table entreated her,, “come sit down. you look as if you’re going to fall down if you don’t.”

with the help of the two women that had rescued her,, trudy hobbled toward the huge wooden table and took a seat on one of the long hard wood benches.. she found it difficult to hold herself upright as there was no back on the bench on which to lean,, so instead she slumped on her elbows over the table.. 

“maybe it would be better if you laid down.” one of the women at the table suggested, as trudy felt cool hands on her neck and shoulders guiding her into a prone position on the stark wooden bench..  

“there, there now,” the red haired woman that had earlier been identified as sister rebecca  said as she gently stroked trudy’s frazzled hair from her forehead,, “you just relax, while we have a good look at your injuries..”

although trudy was quite unsure as to who these women were,, or why they had taken such a special interest in her,, at the moment,, all she could think about was how good it felt to lie down.. any questions she may have had about them quickly slipped to the wayside,, as she felt warm compresses being applied to her face and extremities simultaneously,,  gently wiping away the dirt and sweat  so that her wounds could be better assessed.

“ugh!!” she moaned aloud as one of the warm soft cloths got too close to the gunshot wound.

“sister ruth,, could you bring me a pitcher of warm water and a basin.. i think this area would be better off irrigated,, it seems as if it is too painful to the touch to clean it properly with this cloth.”

trudy heard a scampering of footfalls,, followed by a gentle rush of warm water being poured over the tear in her arm where that mad man’s bullet had grazed her.. the warm water burned slightly as it gently flooded her wound, rinsing away the accumulation of debris and dried blood..  

“it looks as if a stitch or two is in order here.” trudy heard one of the women say,, as she passed in and out of consciousness.

“sister martha,, could you bring the suture kit?? and sister terese, could you bring out the medicinal spirits?”

it wasn’t until she felt two sets of warm, soft, arms around her bringing her up into a half sitting position that she came too enough to realize the women were entreating her to drink from a short glass of clear liquid.. 

“this is a medicinal spirit we make here ourselves.. it will be a bit harsh going down,, but it will help ease your pain,, and allow us to put a few necessary stitches in this arm of yours..” a dark haired woman was admonishing her as she raised the glass to trudy’s lips.. 

“sip it slowly now..” she heard yet another woman chime in from somewhere behind her. 

obediently,, trudy took a small sip.. almost instantly the clear liquid cut off her breath and she began to cough..

“take it slow..” the dark haired woman admonished her, “ it really isn’t as caustic as it tastes,, and we need to get a good measure of it into you before we can get started here..”

with that, she once again raised the glass to trudy’s lips.. trudy was more prepared for it this time,, and allowed the vile tasting liquid to slide down her throat.. it warmed her instantly.. she felt a flush come over her as a gentle calm begin to set in.. without further ado,, she finished off the remaining clear liquid in the glass,, and the women laid her back down on the bench.. almost instantly trudy drifted off to a warm safe place.. 

as soon as the sisters agreed upon the fact that she would no longer be feeling any pain, sister esther,, the gray haired woman that had rescued her on the side of the road,  went about putting in a few expertly executed stiches in the soft flesh of trudy’s arm.. 

once they were convinced that her wounds had been thoroughly cleansed and properly dressed, the sisters then went about the difficult task of moving trudy’s near lifeless body from the wooden bench in the kitchen to a soft feather bed in room just down the hall.. 

it took all five of them to gather her up,, and seat her in a chair that had been placed on a soft quilt so as not to scratch the beautifully polished hard wood floors,, and slide her down the hall.. getting her from the chair into the bed was no easy task either,, but they did so without complaint.. as soon as they had her settled in,, they covered her with a soft down comforter,, turned out the light, and silently left the room.. 

sister ruth put the kettle on,, as the rest of them gathered around the kitchen table.. 

“i would imagine there is no doubt in anyone’s mind that the tear in the young lady’s arm was the result of a gunshot..” sister rebecca started off the conversation,, as all the other sisters nodded in agreement.

“that being said,, i think we need to consider what, if any further danger she is in,, and how it will affect us.. whereas it was clearly our christian duty to take her in and see to it that she was properly cared for and taken out of harm’s way,, we have to consider the fact that whomever it was that saw fit to shoot at her,, might still be after her for whatever reason,, and even though i am relatively sure no one saw us bring her here, we do not want to invite a violent confrontation here on our beloved cloister’s soil.”

“well i for one, “ sister esther interjected, “can reaffirm sister rebecca’s assumption that no one followed us.. and since we are located quite off the beaten track,, i would have to say that had we been followed,, one of us would surely have noticed..”

“i cannot help but wonder,” pondered sister ruth from her place in front of the now whistling kettle, “why she was dressed in such a fashion in the middle of the day?”

“i think we will know more about all of this come morning. once the effects of the spirits have worn off,, and she has had a hearty breakfast i think she will be able to tell us more about the situation that brought her to us.. in the interim i suggest we gather together in prayer and seek guidance in this matter,, as all of this is truly in god’s hands,, not ours.”

following a chorus of affirmations,, the sisters settled in around the table as the brewing tea steeped in its cozy,, joined hands and in silence each offered up a prayer for the health and safety not only for their newly acquired charge,, but also for the cloister itself.. 

as if on cue they said their “amens” and joined together in praying aloud the glory be:

glory be to the father,
and to the son,
and to the holy spirit.
as it was in the beginning,
is now,
and ever shall be,
world without end.

amen.