“Okay, okay, okay,” Willy whined. She sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. Sister Peaches laughed. Willy glared at her. “What’s so fuckin’ funny?”
“Your hair,” Sister Peaches said. “I’ve never seen hair stick up so high before.”
Willy patted the top of her head, trying to mash her hair back down. “For your information some people pay a lot of money to get their hair to do this.”
“People are strange,” Sister Peaches said like this idea was unique to her. “From now on you’ll never have to worry about hairstyles again. Your wimple will cover it up.”
“My dimple?”
“Your wimple.”
“My nipple?” Willy asked.
Sister Peaches giggled. “No, silly, your wimple. A wimple is the traditional headdress we wear. That’s one advantage to being a nun. We don’t have to worry about bed-head,” Sister Peaches said with yet another giggle.
Willy watched Allistair making her bed. Allistair worked hospital corners into the top sheet and even fluffed her pillow. Willy observed Allistair’s bed-making with a look of utter distaste. “I bet you wrote an advice column on hospital corners,” Willy said with ultimate sarcasm. “I bet the headline was: How Hospital Corners Saved My Relationship.”
Allistair turned to Willy and put her hands on her hips. “You can make fun all you want. But I am not going to allow you to ruin my day just because you woke up grouchy.” She stuck her nose in the air to emphasize her point.
Willy snorted. “You make your bed the minute you get out of it. That’s sick and wrong.”
“You should always make your bed first thing,” Allistair said. “That way your room has a center of neatness and your sense of control over your world is beneficial towards starting a good day. It’s a good habit.”
Sister Peaches giggled. “A good habit.” And just in case the joke had flown over their heads, she said it again, “A good habit, get it?”
“Yeah we got it,” Willy said. She didn’t know which was worse—being awake before dawn after only two hours of sleep or listening to a nun giggle at her own horrible jokes. “Is that for us?” Willy said, pointing at the folded clothing in Sister Peaches’ arms.
“Sure is.” She set one stack of clothes on Allistair’s neatly made bed and the other on Willy’s unmade bed with Willy still in it. “Ta-da! Here’s your wimple,” Sister Peaches said, pulling it out of the stack of clothing and holding it in front of Willy’s face. She picked up two more items of clothing, saying, “And this is the scapular and this is the cowl.”
“What goes under everything?” Willy said. “I’ve always wondered that.”
Sister Peaches shook her finger at Willy and said, “What’s under my skirt is nun ya business.” She giggled and said again, “Nun ya business, get it?”
“Got it,” Willy said. “Nun humor.”
“To answer your question, we wear two skirts,” Sister Peaches said as she held up her habit and modeled. Her legs were thin and pale and hairy. They reminded Willy of the time she broke her leg and wore a cast for three months. After the cast was sawed off, her leg looked just like that.
Sister Peaches turned in a small circle, saying, “The first skirt is like a slip and the second skirt is more like a tunic.”
“I’m not wearing a fucking skirt. I’m telling you that right now.”
“Don’t think of it as a skirt. It’s a habit,” Allistair said.
“It’s a fucking skirt under a fucking dress and I’m not fucking wearing it,” Willy said. She picked up her skirt and tossed it at Sister Peaches. It hit her in the chest and floated to the floor.
“But you have to,” Sister Peaches said, her eyes started to tear up.
“I do not have to,” Willy said. “I’m not the one with chicken legs.”
Sister Peaches began to cry in earnest. A big tear ran down her cheek and plopped onto the stone floor.
Allistair rushed to Sister Peaches and pulled her into a protective embrace. She hissed over Sister Peaches’ shoulder at Willy, “Now look what you’ve done. You made a nun cry and we haven’t even been here a full day.”
“What the fuck is with all the crying. First you and now her.”
“Don’t mind me,” Sister Peaches sniffled. “I always get a ‘cries easily’ mark on my bi-yearly evaluations.”
Allistair led Sister Peaches to her bed and they sat down next to each other. “Nuns get evaluated?” Allistair asked in an effort to take Sister Peaches’ mind off her crying. “What do you get evaluated on?”
“Our behavior, our sense of agape, our sewing skills, and whether we can grow an avocado from its core,” Sister Peaches said.
“What the fuck kind of bullshit is that?” Willy said.
“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Allistair said. “She’s nothing but a big, mean bully.”
“Does she always curse so much?” Sister Peaches whispered.
“I haven’t known her very long, but I’d wager to say yes,” Allistair said.
“I’m right here,” Willy said. You don’t have to talk like I’m not. I hate that third person kind of shit. If you got something to say, say it to me.”
Sister Peaches burst into tears again.
Allistair patted her shoulder. “You’re awful, just awful,” she told Willy.
Sister Peaches pulled a roll of toilet paper out of the depths of her skirt. She yanked off a length of toilet paper and blew her nose. It sounded like a goose honking.
Allistair met eyes with Willy and gave her a look that plainly said, “You are an asshole.”
Willy sighed. So she was an asshole. But what did a person expect when they woke you up at the butt-crack of dawn and made you put on a dress before you even had a cup of coffee? Willy sighed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Sister Peaches, I’m sorry. My last girlfriend used to talk to her cat about me while I was in the room and it bugged the fuck out of me.”
“That’s a classic case of displacement,” Allistair said.
“Oh, so now the Domestic Goddess of Advice Land is also a psychiatrist? What the fuck do you even know about me anyway?”
Sister Peaches sobbed harder and began to gasp, taking in great gulps of air. Between the nose blowing, gasping, sneezing, and sobbing, she sounded like a whole flock of honking geese.
“You are so going to hell for this,” Allistair said, holding Sister Peaches as she cried.
Sister Peaches raised her tear-stained face and sputtered, “No, don’t say that. It’s all my fault.”
Willy looked down into her lap. She knew Allistair was right. She was displacing all her pent up anger, embarrassment, and sexual frustration onto Sister Peaches. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”
“Sister Alice, we do not recommend Hell to anyone, nor do we suggest it,” Mother Superior said.
All three women inhaled sharply and looked up to see Mother Superior looming in the doorway.
“Holy shit! You scared me, Mother Superior,” Willy said. “Nun of us saw you sneak up.” She looked at Sister Peaches and winked. “You see what I did there? Nun of us, get it?”
Sister Peaches gargled. It was really a giggle, but since she’d been crying and was teary and snotty, it came out sounding more like a gargle.
Mother Superior didn’t crack a smile. “Sister Wanda, your penance will be to scrub one hundred meters of the east wing corridor’s floor. It will allow time for contemplation.”
“Scrubbing the fucking floor?” Willy asked. “Why, what the fuck did I do?”
“Make that two hundred meters,” Mother Superior said.
“Two hundred meters? I don’t even know what a fucking meter is. You don’t expect me to convert it to feet, do you? ‘Cause I was never good at fucking math.”
“Three hundred meters.”
Willy gritted her teeth. It took every ounce of strength she had not to respond.
“And why aren’t you dressed?” Mother Superior aske
d.
“Because there’s no way in Hades that I’m going to wear a freakin’ dress,” Willy said. She smiled, quite proud of herself for avoiding cussing.
“I see,” Mother Superior said. She steepled her hands under her chin. “And is this about being teased on the playground because the boys would sneak peeks at your underpants while you were on the jungle gym?”
Willy blushed and looked at her feet. “No. Yes. Maybe.”
“I suffered a similar issue as a young girl. I never liked being vulnerable either. I understand perfectly. So I brought you these.” Mother Superior pulled a pair of black trousers out from under her habit like she was pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
“What are those?” Willy asked.
“They’re nun pants,” Mother Superior said. She shook them out. Sure enough, they were pants. They had two legs and everything. They looked suspiciously like a skirt had been altered to form a simple pair of drawstring pants, but hey, Willy thought, beggars can’t be choosers.
Willy eyed the pants. She was suspicious. Not of the pants, but of the Mother Superior’s motive for giving them to her. “What do I do with them?”
Mother Superior arched her eyebrow. “For starters, you put them on.”
“Okay,” Willy said. “But what about all that other stuff.” She jabbed a finger Allistair’s way where Sister Peaches was helping her tug on the underskirt.
“You can wear the pants instead of the underskirt. However, you will still wear the outer clothing. Think of the habit as a long overcoat if that makes you feel better.” Mother Superior said.
“What about that wimple thing?” Willy asked.
“The building, you will discover, is quite cold and drafty. Think of it as a wind deflector. Once winter begins, you’ll be giving praise for your wimple.”
“I seriously doubt I’ll ever feel that way about my wimple. Do I really have to do this?” Willy asked plaintively.
“You do if you want to appear inconspicuous. This habit might just save your life and the lives of those around you.”
“Sure, go ahead and guilt me into it,” Willy grumbled, taking the pants.
“It’s what we Catholics do best,” Mother Superior said with a sly smile.
Willy pulled on the pants and when she looked back up, Mother Superior had disappeared without making a sound. Willy was going to have to be careful. Mother Superior obviously had some bad-ass ninja skills.
“How do I look?” Allistair asked. She was decked out in full habit. She put one hand behind her head and the other hand on her jutting hip. Willy gulped. Allistair looked beautiful. Her skin was glowing and she was absolutely radiant. Willy suddenly had a strong craving for a cream puff.
Puss and Boots
Allistair and Willy followed Sister Peaches down the corridor. Sister Peaches’ little feet were pitter-pattering at a pretty good clip. They had to work to keep up with her.
“The wimple really accentuates your eyes,” Allistair said. It was true. The wimple did bring out the blue in Willy’s eyes and Allistair had a thing for blue eyes.
“Fuck you very much,” Willy said.
Allistair looked at her disapprovingly.
Willy grinned mischievously. “Did I say fuck you? I meant to say thank you. I got fired from my first job for that same mistake. No matter how hard I tried, I kept saying, ‘Fuck you, drive through, please.’”
“Willy, we really need to make the best of this. We don’t have any other choice. Do you want to be feeding the fishes?”
“Working at an aquarium would be fun. The uniform has to be better than this one,” Willy said.
“That’s not what I meant by feeding the fishes,” Allistair said.
“I know what you meant,” Willy said. “I watched The Sopranos, too. That was my attempt at light-hearted repartee.”
Sister Peaches turned a corner. Allistair and Willy followed behind. “Making light of mafia euphemisms is not my idea of repartee,” Allistair said.
“Are you sure? Because I was about to ‘hit the mattress with you.’”
“More bantering, I assume?”
“No, that was bandying. I don’t banter until the second date.”
“Something to look forward to,” Allistair said. She was surprised to feel a smile on her lips. She quickly replaced the smile with a frown and looked to see if Willy had noticed. She hadn’t. Thank God, the hallway was so dim. She certainly didn’t want Willy to know that she had found her amusing for a moment.
Willy glanced over her shoulder then whispered sotto voce, “Don’t look now, but is that cat following us?”
Allistair said in a ‘duh’ tone, “We are surrounded by cats.” As if to prove Allistair’s point they passed several napping cats, two strolling cats, a cat that looked like it was eating something freshly killed, and at least five preening cats.
Willy kept looking over her shoulder every fifty or so paces. When Allistair looked back, she was surprised to find that the same white cat did indeed appear to be actively pursuing them. Allistair stopped. So did the cat.
“I told you he was following us,” Willy said, stopping also.
Allistair flicked her hand in the cat’s direction. “Shoo, kitty. Shoo.”
The cat sat on its haunches and yawned.
Willy took a menacing step toward the cat. “Scram, cat!”
The cat licked its paw and wiped its whiskers.
“Did you see that?” Willy said. “He’s acting all nonchalant and shit. Trying to make us think he’s not stalking us.”
Before Allistair could respond, Sister Peaches poked her head back around the corner and hissed, “Sisters! We must hurry or we’ll be late!”
Allistair followed Sister Peaches back around the corner. Willy stood her ground, staring at the cat. “I got my eye on you, Mr. Puss and Boots. And I don’t scare easily.”
Allistair reached around the corner, grabbing Willy by the shoulder.
“Eeekkkk!” Willy screamed like a scared little girl. She quickly covered up her embarrassment by swatting at Allistair. “Don’t grab at me, for Chrissakes!”
“C’mon, or we’ll all be scrubbing floors.”
Willy threw one last look at the cat. If she wasn’t mistaken, he sure looked like he was laughing.
Sister Act
“Sisters, you must hurry,” Sister Peaches called to them from across the courtyard. She stood in front of the gothic church with its twin spires. As Willy neared, she noticed a stained glass window that depicted Saint Francis throwing some kitty kibble to a herd of cats. A big white cat with five toes was perched on Saint Francis’s shoulder.
Willy pointed at the stained glass cat. “That cat looks like the one that is following us. What the fuck’s up with that?”
“Willy, you’re not going to say the F-word in church, right?” Allistair pleaded.
“Well, not intentionally. But look at that cat on his shoulder…” she trailed off as the real life cat in question strode past them and into the church. “Would you get a load of that shit? He’s a fucking pious cat.”
“This way,” Sister Peaches said. Willy and Allistair entered the church right behind Sister Peaches. There were somewhere in the neighborhood of a hundred nuns cloistered together in the pews. They were all huddled together near the front of the church. It reminded Willy of that penguin movie she had seen—not the dancing penguin movie with the happy feet, but the one where the penguins marched and huddled together to keep warm and hatch their eggs.
Willy and Allistair followed Sister Peaches down the aisle. Willy had never been inside a church of this magnitude before. It was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. Stained glass windows let in sunlight, turned it into all the colors of the spectrum, and cast it about the large room. Willy felt as if she were standing in the middle of a shower of colors. No, not a shower. A waterfall of colors. The effect was intoxicating.
“Do either of you sing?” Sister Peaches asked.
“In the shower,” Will
y said.
“Not professionally,” Allistair said. “Though I did win my grade school talent show.”
“Really,” Willy said, her voice sounding disbelieving.
Allistair said, “I won a medal for my a cappella rendition of Zip-a-Dee-Do-Dah.”
“Yeah, but in grade school, everyone’s a winner, right? They give out medals like candy, so everyone will feel special and talented,” Willy said as Sister Peaches lead them to a pew near the front. When Allistair didn’t respond, Willy said, “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.” They all three crowded onto the pew, forcing several nuns to scoot down.
“I have a confession,” Allistair said to Sister Peaches after they were seated.
“You don’t tell me,” Sister Peaches said. “Father will be here Sunday to hear confessions.”
“No, I meant…” Allistair paused then said, “I’m not Catholic.”
“That’s okay. Nobody’s perfect,” Sister Peaches said.
“I’m agnostic,” Willy offered.
“Oh,” Sister Peaches said with a horrified look on her face. “We’ll have to put you in the SHU on a diet of stale bread and water until you recognize the error of your ways.”
Willy looked at her wide-eyed.
Sister Peaches giggled and whapped Willy playfully on the arm. “Just kidding. Nun humor.”
Mother Superior stood at the front of the church and raised one hand. The nuns stopped talking and sat ramrod straight. Mother Superior began to speak about something she called felicity. According to her, felicity was a state of happiness. She said happiness was a choice. Willy had never thought of it that way before. She assumed that happiness was a direct result of what happened to you. And you had no control over what happened to you, which meant you had no control over whether you were happy or not. But Mother Superior said that every morning when you woke up the most important decision you could make was to be happy. No matter what happened, a person had a choice whether to be happy or not.
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