Prey for a Miracle

by Aimée; David Thurlo

  The chancellor looked at Reverend Mother, who shook her head. “Sister Ignatius won’t be much help with something like this. She’ll feel uncomfortable, and that feeling will communicate itself to the girl. Sister Agatha was a journalist before she came to us. She’ll know how to phrase the questions in a way that won’t upset Natalie. I believe she’ll get the answers you need.” Reverend Mother looked back at Sister Agatha. “Will you try, child?”

  “I’ll do my best, Mother,” Sister Agatha answered.

  “Then bring Natalie to us.”

  Sister Agatha walked through the monastery, glad that she hadn’t had to answer questions about their intruder in front of the chancellor. Since no one had brought up the subject, she wasn’t sure if Reverend Mother had even told him about it. Just in case, she made a mental note to be careful not to say anything herself.

  Sister Agatha found Natalie removing flakes of wood from a big block with a special carving knife. She was wearing protective gloves, a wise decision by Sister Ignatius.

  “What are you doing?” Sister Agatha asked, intrigued.

  “I’m trying to carve a mold in this balsa. By pressing the clay into this, and then lifting it out carefully, Sister Ignatius will be able to make the Christmas angel figures quickly, and she’ll have more to sell at the bazaar.”

  “That’s a wonderful idea,” Sister Agatha said, then glanced at Sister Ignatius. “But let Sister Ignatius put that away for you right now. You and I are needed in Reverend Mother’s office.”

  Natalie placed the knife down and looked at Sister Agatha. “You’re going to help me with Chancellor Roberts,” she said. “Samara told me you would.”

  Sister Agatha didn’t comment.

  After washing her hands in the small sink in the corner, Natalie gave Sister Agatha a tentative smile. “I’m ready, but I sure wish Father Roberts would believe me. I’ve told him all I know. Samara keeps me company, but it’s not as if we’re always talking to each other. Most of the time she’s just there—not saying anything.”

  “Then that’s exactly what you should tell him.”

  “I did last time, but he’s never seen an angel, so they think for sure I’m making it all up. They probably want to send me to one of those head doctors.”

  “Has your angel given you any advice about how to convince them she’s real?”

  Natalie shook her head. “I asked Samara for a lock of her hair. It’s down to her waist and it’s very pale yellow—almost white. But she said that if I want blond hair, I should buy a wig.”

  Sister Agatha burst out laughing, and Natalie joined in.

  As they drew closer to the chapel, the scraping of tools and the pulling of nails grew in intensity—a cacophony of discordant sounds that seemed to rip through her skin and resonate against the marrow of her bones. She made a mental note right then to ask Reverend Mother about the use of the ear protectors as soon as possible.

  “Samara just told me to tell you that there’s danger coming. You should prepare,” Natalie said during a lull in the racket overhead. Natalie looked to her side, then finally back at Sister Agatha. “She said it’ll come in silence and you won’t see it until it’s too late. Samara says that you should remain on your guard because Satan loves the unsuspecting soul.”

  Sister Agatha’s skin prickled. The girl had a great delivery—very convincing. “Well, if it comes in silence, it won’t be anywhere near this monastery while the roof is being replaced.”

  When they arrived at Reverend Mother’s office, Natalie was directed to one of the chairs, and Sister Agatha to the seat next to her. Father Roberts stood at the far side of the room, and Reverend Mother remained behind her desk.

  “Natalie, you know that Sister Agatha’s your friend and would never do anything to hurt you. That’s why we asked her to be here while you tell her—and us—everything else you can about your angel,” the chancellor said. “We don’t want you to be afraid.”

  “I’ve already told you all I know. Why don’t you believe me?”

  “It’s not that, Natalie,” Sister Agatha said. “The problem is that we don’t really understand it. It’s kind of like when you’re at school and the teacher has to explain about a math problem several times before everyone in the class gets it.”

  “Yeah, okay,” Natalie said with a nod.

  “How did the angel first let you know she was there?” Sister Agatha asked her.

  Natalie shrugged. “She just came.”

  “When?”

  “A few months ago, I guess. Mom had just started to work her second job and was always too tired to play. I prayed like they taught us in catechism class, but nothing happened. Then one day Samara was just there.”

  “How did you know she was an angel? You mentioned she didn’t have wings.”

  “What else could she have been? She shimmers, and when I look at her, it’s like looking at the sun, only the light that comes from her doesn’t hurt your eyes. She’s beautiful,” Natalie said.

  “When did she begin talking to you?”

  “I was talking to Louann Madison one day at lunch, and she invited me to a sleepover at her house. But Samara told me not to go. It surprised me ‘cause she’d never spoken to me before. I did what she wanted, but later I asked Samara about it. She told me about the fire and also said I shouldn’t tell anyone at school about her or her warning. But I had to—Louann was my friend. So I told her to watch out for a fire, and I told Louann all about my angel,” she said softly. “But Samara was right. It just made things worse, and it didn’t stop the fire, either.”

  “So what did you do then?”

  “I guess I should have stopped talking about Samara. No one believed she was real even after that car stopped because of her. They just thought I was crazy. I really wanted everyone to believe me so they’d like me,” she said, and exhaled softly.

  “But I messed up bad because the more I talked about her, the worse things got. Strangers started coming up to me wanting to know what was going to happen to them, or asking me to get my angel to help them. Samara stayed out of it—she wouldn’t even talk to me. Then the TV people came and did their story. After that people thought that my guardian angel would do whatever I asked her, but that isn’t the way things work.”

  Natalie sighed softly. “All I wanted was to have more friends, but after that everyone started avoiding me. Even Louann’s mom was afraid. She told Louann not to hang out with me anymore.”

  “You must have been very sad and lonely,” Sister Agatha said with genuine sympathy.

  “I was, until Samara started talking to me again. But she didn’t say what was going to happen anymore, or fix things for me.”

  “When your angel talks to you, do you hear her like you’re hearing me now?”

  “No, it’s not like that. I hear the words in my head.”

  “Is she here now?” Sister Agatha asked.

  “Yeah. She’s standing just to the right of Father, on his left.”

  Father Roberts’s eyes widened slightly and he turned to look. Instantly aware of the lapse, he gathered his composure quickly then cleared his throat. “Well, I think we have enough for now. Thanks for talking to us again, Natalie,” Father Roberts said.

  Sister Agatha smiled at Natalie. “I bet that all this has made you hungry. How about a snack?” she asked.

  “If you have a cookie in mind, I’m in,” Natalie said.

  Reverend Mother looked at Sister Agatha. “We’ll need you to come back as soon as Natalie is settled, child.”

  “Yes, Mother,” Sister Agatha said, then focused on Natalie. As they walked down the corridor they saw Sister Maria Victoria coming toward them carrying a large quilt.

  “The quilt is done,” Sister Maria Victoria said, taking advantage of the rare quiet moment. “I was on my way to the scriptorium so I could give it to Sister de Lourdes. She’s going to take a photo of it so you and Sister Bernarda can put it up on our Web site. I hope it brings us a good price, but I know it wo
n’t be even close to what Reverend Mother needs to pay for this roof,” she said quietly.

  Sister Maria Victoria held it up for them to see. The quilt had the outline of the Blessed Mother in shades of light blue against an intricately quilted background of eggshell and white.

  “It’s exquisite, Sister,” Sister Agatha said. “I’m sure it’ll do well for us.”

  As they walked away, Sister Agatha glanced at Natalie. “I know you already talked to the sheriff about the night of the accident, but I have a question I’d like to ask you about that. Do you mind?”

  Natalie shook her head.

  “Did your mother go outside in the rain just before you went for a drive with her?”

  She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “Mom was all wet when she came to get me, so I guess so. But I didn’t see her outside. I was in my room playing.”

  Sister Agatha nodded. “Someone came up to your house that night before you left. That’s why your mom first went outside. Do you have any idea who it might have been?” She was hoping to trigger Natalie’s memory. “The person was driving a pickup.”

  “Like the one that hit us?” she asked, her voice rising slightly.

  “Not necessarily. Lots of people have pickups.”

  “Mom didn’t say anything about it.” She gave Sister Agatha an earnest look. “Let’s wait until we can talk to Mom and then I’ll ask her. Will I be able to see her soon?”

  “I’m not sure. Try to be patient, okay?”

  “Okaaay,” she answered drawing out the word with mock weariness.

  They were almost at the crafts room when Sister Maria Victoria caught up to them. “The photo came out lovely. Say a prayer that lots of people bid on our quilt,” she said.

  “We all will, Sister,” Sister Agatha said.

  As she moved away, Natalie looked at Sister Agatha. “Is the monastery broke? Mom and I get that way sometimes.”

  “We have some money problems right now that we’re trying to work through,” Sister Agatha said.

  Natalie stopped in midstride and looked to something only she could see on her right. “Samara says that you and the sisters should stop worrying. She says that the monastery has its own angel who works for all of you. I’m supposed to remind you of the story of Jacob and Esau that tells how Jacob scared himself silly by imagining the worst.”

  Sister Ignatius, who’d come out into the hall, heard Natalie plainly. She stared at the girl with widened eyes, then gave Sister Agatha a bewildered look.

  Afraid that Sister Ignatius would read too much into what Natalie had said, especially after today’s intruder, she waited for Natalie to go into the room, then whispered, “Every child knows the story of Jacob and Esau, Your Charity.”

  Sister Ignatius gave her a sad smile. “Helen Keller was once asked if there was anything worse than being blind. She replied that there was—a person with sight and no vision.”

  When Sister Agatha returned to Reverend Mother’s office, she told her and the chancellor what had just happened in the hall.

  “Jacob believed that Esau was coming to kill him. But what he feared most never happened,” Reverend Mother said.

  “It’s an appropriate story and lesson, particularly in light of the financial problems facing most New Mexican monasteries,” Father Roberts said.

  “But surely an eight-year-old couldn’t have extracted that lesson from the story all on her own,” Reverend Mother said.

  “She may have been taught it,” Sister Agatha said.

  “Just the point I was about to make,” the chancellor said.

  Reverend Mother nodded slowly. “So what will you recommend to the bishop?” she asked the chancellor.

  “That the church stay out of this matter. There are no miracles to substantiate, or messages for mankind. I don’t think it’ll ever be possible for us to know whether or not Natalie is really seeing an angel. But I will recommend that Father Mahoney point out to his parishioners that most of the claims have been enhanced and exaggerated by gossip, not from anything that his niece said or did.”

  After the meeting ended, Sister Agatha accompanied Father Roberts outside. She was standing on the front step watching him drive away when Pax came up and pushed against her the way he usually did when he wanted to be petted.

  Even though she’d already placed her hand on the dog’s head, Pax pushed her again. Sister Agatha almost lost her balance and had to take a few quick steps to the side in order to recover. “Will you cut that out?” she demanded, annoyed.

  Not daunted in the least by her tone of voice, the dog licked her hand, then ran off to chase a piece of roofing felt that had been caught by the breeze. He barked back at her, trying to get her to play chase.

  Suddenly Sister Agatha heard a noise up on the roof. She turned her head to look up just as a large piece of rotting lumber fell down. It crashed to the ground and broke into two jagged pieces on the spot where she’d been standing before Pax had pushed her aside.

  Her heart beating overtime and her body trembling, she pressed back against the wall. The horrifying certainty that she’d barely escaped death drained the warmth from her body, leaving only fear and an unbearable cold in its wake.

  10

  HEY, ANYONE DOWN THERE?” A WORKMAN PEERED OVER the edge. “Sister? You okay?” the excited man yelled. Sister Agatha managed only a nod. Shaking, she stared at the jagged piece of water-soaked timber. Large, rusty nails the size of pencils were sticking out of it like slender daggers. If the dog hadn’t pushed her aside when he did, she would have been on her way to the hospital—or worse—by now.

  Sister Bernarda came rushing out from the entry and put her arm around her. “Are you okay? I heard the crash and looked out the window. You could have been killed!”

  Del Martinez, the owner of the roofing company, and his foreman, Justin Clark, came rushing around the corner of the building. “Who let this fall over here?” Del demanded, looking up at the men who’d gathered on the roof above the debris.

  “Don’t look at us, boss,” said the same lanky, dark-haired man who’d peered over the edge first. “We were all working at the north end of the roof until we heard the noise.”

  “You were the only one in this section, jefe,” another member of the crew said, using the Spanish word for boss and looking directly at Del.

  Del turned on him, his eyes sparking with anger. “Exactly what are you implying, Ramon?”

  “Nothing, jefe. I was just answering your question.”

  “I’ll get to the bottom of this,” Justin said, moving toward one of the ladders.

  Del looked back at Sister Agatha. “I’m very sorry about this, Sister. All the debris was supposed to be thrown off the east side, closer to where the truck’s parked. This must have slid off the crown of the roof. But between that nun who ran off and the sheriff’s deputy bugging my men, work just hasn’t been in sync today. And now everyone’s hurrying so they can go home for the day.”

  “Then get it together,” Sister Bernarda snapped. “This should have never happened.”

  “You’re right,” Del admitted. “I’ll have a talk with my crew. Nothing like this will happen again.”

  As Del climbed up the ladder to join his foreman and the men, Sister Agatha went back inside with Sister Bernarda.

  “I’m all right,” Sister Agatha said, finally finding her voice. “It scared me witless, but everything’s all right now, thank God. All that’s left is for me to stop shaking like a leaf.”

  At that moment, Natalie and Sister de Lourdes walked into the parlor and that was when she suddenly remembered the angel’s warning. Sister Agatha met the little girl’s gaze, but no guile shone there, just concern.

  “What happened?” Natalie asked, sensing something wrong.

  “Some old roofing material fell from the roof,” Sister Agatha said, her voice quiet and calm for Natalie’s benefit. “Sister de Lourdes, will you stay with Natalie for a while longer? Since the workmen are right outside,
we need to be extra careful and make sure no one sees or hears a young girl. Sister Bernarda is taking care of the phone and the door so you won’t have to worry about portress duties. But I’d like to go to my cell for a few minutes.”

  “Of course,” Sister de Lourdes answered.

  As soon as she started walking down the hall, Pax came bounding up to her from inside the enclosure, cookie crumbs all around his snout. Sister Agatha bent down and hugged the dog tightly. “Thanks, old guy,” she whispered, and smiled as the animal tried to lick her face. “I’m glad you’re demanding when you want to be petted. I owe you big time.”

  Once alone in her room, she took the pills Sister Eugenia had left for her, then dropped to her knees before the small statue of Mary on her nightstand. Mentally shutting out the noise from above, she said a heartfelt prayer of thanks. As her thoughts grew still, she heard the words of the angel’s warning clearly in her mind: “It’ll come in silence when you least expect it.” The words made sense now. Coincidence? And what about Pax’s timely push? She just wasn’t sure what to think anymore.

  Sister Agatha spent twenty minutes in silent meditation. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to believe Natalie and her stories about her angel. It was just that there was no clear evidence to support the girl’s claims, and experience told her that there was danger in believing something just because it held the promise of comfort. Maybe she didn’t have any vision, but good journalists were known for their dedicated search for truth, and there was something to be said for that, as well.

  After Vespers, Sister Agatha went by the parlor, picked up one set of ear protectors, then walked to Reverend Mother’s office. The abbess was at her desk, going through tall stacks of paperwork.

  After the customary greeting, Sister Agatha said, “Mother, I need to talk to you for a moment. Is this a bad time?”

  “No, child. To tell you the truth, I’m not getting a lot done.” Reverend Mother rubbed her temples as a new round of hammering began: “You’ll have to speak up. I do believe my hearing is going. But at least the roofers will be gone shortly. They wanted to finish the worst section up there before calling it a day, just to make sure there wouldn’t be any more accidents.”