| Subject: Priority Mail 3 |
Author:
Nikita507
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Date Posted: Monday, October 18, 11:29:11pm
In reply to:
Nikita507
's message, "Priority Mail (A New Story)" on Sunday, October 17, 10:48:18pm
Sister Camilla walked down the hallway from outside and into the offices. She nodded her head several time to her other Sisters and knocked at the door before entering. “Reverend Mother, Mary has returned.”
Sister Rhoda looked up from her paperwork to the young Sister Camilla and blushed. She was not used to being the Reverend Mother and she was sure that it was only a short term appointment until the church shifted more senior nuns around. She also knew that no matter how many times she told Sister Camilla it was not necessary to address her as Reverend Mother that Camilla would continue.
But that was not her concern right now. She stood and sighed. She was not dressed as most would assume a nun would be dressed. It was amazing how the older traditions seemed to be what the public still thought about nuns. Rhoda had come into her vocation late, after spending years as a nurse.
It was perhaps that training that allowed her the ability to do things that other nuns would not have done. Mary was the perfect exactly. Not that they were sure what the woman’s name was as she had barely spoken more than a few words since she arrived almost eight months ago. She could speak, but it was Mary’s decision to stay silent.
“I assume that she did not tell you where she has been,” Rhoda commented as she walked around the desk and watched as Sister Camilla shook her head. “She looks as she always does, Reverend Mother.”
Rhoda could have started to push Mary, but she was afraid if she pushed this fragile being who clearly wanted to hide out from the world outside, that Mary would disappear for somewhere else even more isolated that it was at this convent.
Mary pitched in and did her own share. She cleaned and scrubbed the rooms over and over again when Mary was in a mood. One could never tell what night would cause Mary to stay up all night scrubbing the bathrooms down. The one night she had scrubbed down the entrance to the church with what was a brush just twice the size of a toothbrush. Mary in the end solemnly dropped her head and retreated to the small room that she had taken to staying in. It was a room available as not many women were coming into the convent and Mary needed the room, but was absolutely not a candidate to be a nun. Rarely did Mary ever enter into the actual church.
“I will speak with her,” Rhoda sighed as she walked out into the office. Mary had disappeared a few days ago without a word. That was quite common. But she was usually back in a day or two. There was never an explanation and Mary would never suddenly have a new behavior. The nurse in Rhoda said that something was deeply bothering Mary and she wished that she knew what was.
It was a desire that Rhoda had from the day that she had found Mary sitting in the small room where patrons would come to pray to a statue of Mary. She had seen the woman there before and it was then when Rhoda had realized that she had been there for multiple days. Rhoda had asked her who she was and if she needed somewhere to stay. Mary had only responded that she needed somewhere to stay with one word, “Yes”. When no answer came to multiple attempts to get her name, Rhoda had started to call her Mary based off of where she had been found.
Although Mary was withdrawn and looked aged beyond her years, Rhoda had a feeling that someone had to be missing her. Someone had to love her. Mary couldn’t be hurting this badly if someone didn’t love her. Rhoda had waited months in the hope that she would be able to get Mary to start talking, but now was almost too eerie. Rhoda had started to look at some of her old contacts from when she was a nurse and was about to call in a favor or two to find out who Mary was.
“Hello, Mary. Are you hungry today?” Rhoda asked as she walked into the common kitchen and saw Mary stoically peeling potatoes. The blue eyes flicked up to look up at Rhoda, but Mary’s hands never faltered in the beat of the job at hand. Mary was not one to spend much time looking at anyone but Rhoda knew that Mary had heard her question. Rhoda noted that the entire kitchen had instantly emptied when she had arrived and Sister Camilla was back in the hallway. “You were gone several days. I was worried.”
This time there was no eye movement as Mary rolled the potato around in her long fingers before putting it down and picking up the next one to peal.
“Why can’t you talk to me? I am here to help you, child,” Rhoda spoke as she looked from her shoulder over at Mary. There was no response and Rhoda had not expected one. “I have to find something out about you. What if there are people looking for you.”
“There aren’t,” Mary’s voice rasped quickly and shortly. She jerked her hand and the potato peeler rolled from the potato up and over onto the knuckle of her hand, drawing Mary’s blood instantly. Mary dropped both the potato and the peeler while Rhoda grabbed a towel and gave it to Mary. Rhoda retrieved the first aid kit and sat back down to bandage the hand. Silence from Mary was a known but when words happened, they were unexpected and often difficult to handle.
“I’m sure that there is someone out there looking for you,” Rhoda stated as she finished up bandaging the finger. Mary pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap as she sat at the table, now afraid to pick up the work that she had been doing. Rhoda sighed as she stood up. “I’ll leave you alone, Mary. But we did worry about you. Can you leave a note with me letting me know the next time you are going away?”
The blue eyes flashed a glance up to Rhoda, but they revealed nothing. Rhoda wasn’t sure if there would be a note or not. It was a common conversation that she had with Mary in the past and it was successful about half the time. But even when there was a note, it was sparse with words. The last one had said ”Be back soon” and another one said ”Stretching my legs”. With Mary, it was about the lack of words.
“It didn’t go well, Reverend Mother,” Sister Camilla spoke as she saw Rhoda walk out of the kitchen. Rhoda sighed as she knew that she could not hide her frustration. “I’m calling my friend.”
“Friend?” Camilla inquired as she followed behind Rhoda. Rhoda stopped outside the office and looked at Sister Camilla. “Lieutenant McCarty.”
“You are calling the police?” Sister Camilla questioned and Rhoda rubbed her hands together. “I’m not going to report her. Lieutenant McCarty will help me figure out how to go about finding out who Mary is.”
“I hope that she isn’t dangerous!” Sister Camilla rasped and Rhoda tilted her head to the side. She looked down the hallway and then back at Camilla. “Mary, dangerous? I don’t believe that is possible.”
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