“Sister Bernarda came to see me this morning. She tells me that scriptorium work is still behind schedule and the scanners and computers are breaking down nearly every day.”
“We try to fix things, or work around them, Mother, but it’s not easy. Frank Walters is the only parishioner willing to share his specialized knowledge. He’s been more than generous with his time, but even he recommends we get new equipment.”
“Is there any way we could learn to fix the computers?”
“I’ve learned some by watching, and do pretty well with the software, but when the equipment breaks down, it’s another matter. I’m far from an expert. But I’ll keep trying, Mother.”
“Good. Child, I’m going to tell you something in confidence. With Sister Gertrude having been so sick, I’ve taken her usual duties as cellarer—keeping track of the monastery’s finances.” She paused. “We’re in serious trouble. Two large donations we had been expecting recently from regular supporters didn’t come in. Sister Bernarda has tried to contact those benefactors on the phone, but hasn’t been able to reach them.” She paused. “I don’t think they want to be reached.”
Reverend Mother took a deep breath. “I suspect that Father Anselm’s death has cast a long shadow over Our Lady of Hope. Nobody remembers the last time anyone was murdered at a monastery, and I’ve been told that the story is in the news across the Southwest. People don’t want to donate to a monastery that is shrouded in scandal, but without donations and support from the community, we’re going to be very hard-pressed to make ends meet.”
“Mother, I’m still working to find the answers we need, but I’ll talk to Sister Bernarda, too. Maybe, if we pull together, we can finish at least one of the scriptorium projects, despite the problems with the computers. That should bring some money in.”
“Thank you, child.”
Sister Agatha retreated to the scriptorium with Pax at her heels and found Postulant Celia and Sister Mary Lazarus helping Sister Bernarda, who was trying to fix Celia’s computer. They had moved the computer and the attached scanner to a table beneath the window to make better use of the outdoor light while Sister Bernarda checked all the wires and connections.
“Is anything loose?” Sister Agatha asked.
“Not on this one, but the other computer, the one I normally use, also crashed and doesn’t want to start back up. Our two remaining computers are having their usual problems crashing too, but at least they still work.”
“Let me take a look at the one you’ve been using,” Sister Agatha said.
Sister Mary Lazarus signaled Celia and they moved a wheeled cart near the window, then carried the monitor and tower over there.
Sister Maria Victoria, who was passing down the hall on the way to the sewing room, glanced into the room. Seeing them moving heavy equipment, she came in. “Sisters, if you could use an extra pair of hands …”
“We’d appreciate it,” Sister Agatha said quickly.
Working together, they repositioned two more carts near the east window. The scanners and one monitor were placed there along with the keyboards and mice.
“Let’s have a look inside the tower,” Sister Agatha said.
Sister Bernarda gave her a worried look. “What if we damage something?”
“They won’t work now, so leaving them alone isn’t going to help us either. Mr. Walters hasn’t been able to figure this out, and it’s not fair to keep calling him in. He has his own business to run.”
“He said to call, day or night. He likes knowing that all the sisters pray for him,” Sister Mary Lazarus said.
“Sisters, we all have to do our best to cut down expenses right now. Reverend Mother needs our help.”
“Is it the hospital bill?” Maria Victoria said with a long sigh. “Sister Gertrude really feels badly about that. I tried to tell her that the sisters need her, and the money couldn’t have been better spent.” She paused and her normally serene face grew troubled. “But I don’t think I helped. In fact, I may have made things worse. It’s too bad I’m not as good at giving comfort to the sick as I am with a needle and thread.”
Sister Agatha smiled. “We all have our strengths—and our weaknesses. If I were made cook, for example, we’d need a tireless infirmarian.”
Sister Bernarda exhaled loudly. “Celia’s computer seems to be working now, but the on-screen message says it can’t find the scanner.”
“What if the software has gone south? Can we reinstall it?” Sister Mary Lazarus asked. “I had that happen to me once before with one of the computers.”
“First, I think we’d have to uninstall the software that’s in here now,” Sister Agatha answered, “and when we reinstall it, make sure we have the same settings as before.”
“That might be better than taking off the back of it and fiddling with things,” Sister Bernarda said. “To me, that sounds a bit like raising the hood on the car and wiggling things until it works.”
“But it won’t do any good to fiddle with the software if the problem is a loose connection between the computer and the scanner. Actually, it’s not unlike working on an old car. Sometimes all the heating and cooling of parts in an old computer causes loose connections and all kinds of problems. I’ve been reading up on this.”
Sister Agatha loosened the screws and, together with Sister Mary Lazarus, moved the cover forward, up, and off. Inside were circuit boards, hard drives, and floppy drives, and several cards plugged into long sockets with gold bands that matched up with the gold stripes on the cards.
Sister Maria Victoria bowed slightly to the others, signaling her departure. She’d renewed her silence now, since it wasn’t urgent, or a matter of charity, that she speak.
Sister Agatha checked the computer she was working with, then glanced over to Celia’s computer. “See if the bottom card is loose, Sister Bernarda. That controls the scanner.”
“It is loose at one end,” she said, and Sister Mary Lazarus leaned over to tighten it.
“So maybe we fixed at least one of these,” Sister Mary Lazarus said.
Sister Agatha tested the drive connections on Sister Bernarda’s computer and found some that had worked loose. She wondered why Frank Walters hadn’t checked more thoroughly. Then again, he only charged them half price, and was always switching used components to save them money. Being critical wouldn’t help anyone now.
“Okay, let’s put the covers back on, hook up the connections again, and see what happens,” Sister Agatha announced.
After this was done, Sister Bernarda restarted Celia’s computer while Sister Agatha finished checking the other. The one with the loose scanner card now worked, but the other still gave an error message they couldn’t understand.
There was a collective sigh among the sisters. “You don’t suppose lighting a votive candle would help, do you?” Sister Mary Lazarus asked.
“I was thinking of a swift kick, actually,” Sister Agatha muttered. “Let me go call Frank Walters. With luck, he’ll donate the service call and not charge us at all once I explain how short of funds we are now.”
“With only two working computers, we’ll never make deadline. We need to scan and input data, and that has to be done on separate computers. We could work in shifts, but I don’t know if the computers that are left can stand round-the-clock use for several weeks in this heat,” Sister Mary Lazarus said. “And if we get a reputation for being unreliable, our clients will find someone else to do the work next time. We can’t afford a loss like that.”
Mary Lazarus had always been precise—both in her work and her prayers. To date, she had been the only postulant Sister Agatha had ever seen who had never gotten lost chanting the Divine Office. Her observation now about deadlines was accurate but irritating.
“We’ll work overtime, and in shifts if we have to, but without the proper equipment, there’s nothing more that can be done,” Sister Agatha said.
“Maybe you can pressure Mr. Walters to come right away so we can get going?”
Mary Lazarus suggested.
“That was my intention,” she said, doing her best to curb her temper. The novice was just trying to help. It wasn’t her fault that she had no idea how annoying she was at times. Love thy neighbor, she thought, trying to convince herself.
Sister Agatha glanced at Sister Bernarda who seemed to read her mind. “Go make the phone call, Sister. We’ll handle things here.”
Sister Agatha went directly to the parlor and called Frank Walters. It was hard not to feel like they were taking advantage of him. But these were tough times.
“Hey, Sister!” Frank greeted her after she introduced herself. “I’ve missed you around the scriptorium lately. It’s been a while since we’ve had a chance to talk. Lately the only extern I see is Sister Bernarda. How are things going?”
“Mr. Walters—”
“Frank, please. When you call me Mr. Walters, I think of my dad, God rest his soul.”
“Frank, then,” she said quickly, feeling even guiltier. Not only was she going to ask him to donate his service call, but now she’d made him feel bad.
“We have a problem with the computer equipment,” she said, and explained everything they’d done. “I know you’re a very busy man, but we’re right up against a deadline for one of the libraries, and unless all of our computers are up and working I’m really afraid we’ll miss it.”
“I’m surprised you’re that close to on schedule with all the breakdowns you’ve been having.”
“Frank, I hate to push, but we need you right away, and we also need you to donate the cost of this service call. Our finances are very tight at the moment. Will you do it? The kindness you show us God will reward a hundredfold.”
There was a pause. “All right, Sister. I realize it’s been difficult at the monastery since Father died, especially with the bad publicity and it being called a murder. I imagine some of your benefactors are thinking twice about being linked to the monastery right now. Businesses have to protect their images.”
“And will that include you, too?” Sister Agatha asked.
There was a lengthy silence. “I’m not going to turn my back on Our Lady of Hope. I know the sisters wouldn’t have harmed anyone—regardless of what the news reports suggest.”
There it was—a qualification ribboned around the reassurance. “Thank you so very much. If you could come today and help us repair our computers, we’d be very grateful. In fact, I’ll personally start a novena for your intentions right away.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Sister,” he said. “I’ll be over soon. Oh, and I’ll be bringing my son, Joey, with me. He’s still learning the business.”
Joey was Frank’s twenty-four-year-old son. He had no personality as far as she could tell. That young man could get lost in a crowd of two.
Reminding herself to be more charitable, she quickly thanked Mr. Walters then placed the phone down. Both Frank and Joey had been cleared to enter the scriptorium whenever they were needed, but Reverend Mother would need to be notified.
Hurrying down the hall, she found Reverend Mother in the scriptorium talking to Sister Bernarda.
“I have good news,” she said after greeting them. “Frank Walters has agreed to donate the service call in exchange for the sisters’ prayers and a special novena I’ll be starting right away for his intentions. He and his son should arrive shortly. They don’t live far from here.”
“Well done, child. Will we make our deadlines if the Walters can get the machines working?” Reverend Mother asked.
“We’ll do our best, Mother,” Sister Agatha answered.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the look on Sister Mary Lazarus’s face and knew that, had it been permissible, she would have answered Reverend Mother herself. But novices and postulants weren’t allowed to speak to the choir nuns, unless absolutely necessary. From what she knew about Mary Lazarus, Sister Agatha was certain that she would have been willing to stay up all night for a week if that’s what it took to make the deadline. It was really too bad that her feelings for the monastery and her vocation weren’t as absolute as her dedication to deadlines.
“Walk with me, child,” Reverend Mother asked Sister Agatha.
“Yes, Mother.” Sister Agatha followed Reverend Mother outside to the small enclosure that faced the recreation room. Sister Eugenia had planted some cosmos seeds her niece had sent her and the flowers were now in full bloom. “We will cut some of these for the altar. They’re so beautiful, don’t you think?”
“Yes, Mother.” She knew Reverend Mother hadn’t bothered to bring her out here for the flowers. Something else was going on.
“I need to speak with you about Sister Gertrude.” She paused, then continued. “Some of the tests they ran while she was at the hospital have now been seen by a second physician. Her heart is very weak and her condition more serious than we thought. It’s imperative that she not be upset, so I’m not permitting her to resume her duties as cellarer. There’s something else I’d like you to know, but you can’t share what I’m about to tell you with the others here in the monastery.”
“Whatever you tell me, Mother, will stay between us.”
She nodded, then proceeded slowly. “Canon law dictates that each monastery has to provide for its own needs. We’ve done well, but, right now, we’ve been hit with some very large bills we need to pay, and our financial situation is not good. The regular income we have from the baking is not sufficient to make up the current shortfall. We’re behind on our renovation loan as well as on recent medical bills. That’s the reason I need to know that the scriptorium work—and our expected fee from it—will be in on time. If you need help, depending on the kind of work that needs to be done, I may be able to assign other sisters to work with you, perhaps Sister Maria Victoria and even Sister Gertrude.”
“That might become necessary, Mother. But, for now, we have enough workers. We just need to get the machines up and running so we have the tools to do the job. That’s where the slowdown is taking place.”
“I’m also going to ask the sisters to be more frugal in their use of lights, and conserve our utilities even more than usual. We have enough to eat for a long time, between the vegetables in the garden, the beans, and the tortillas in the freezer, so food is one thing we won’t have to worry about.”
“But no one here is extravagant, Mother. I honestly don’t see how we can cut back much more. We already hand water each plant, and there’s almost no waste in the kitchen.”
“I don’t know either, to tell you the truth,” she said with a long sigh. “But if donations don’t resume, particularly the ones from our primary benefactors, this monastery may have to shut down.”
“Mother, surely it won’t come to that.”
“I hope not, Sister. But pray for us. If there ever was a time for that, it’s now.”
Sister Agatha watched Reverend Mother walk away as the bells for Terce rang. Her head was bowed as she went to the chapel, ready to fulfill her prayerful duty as a Bride of Christ.
The contemplative life was not an easy one. There was no way to keep the world at bay. They were forever part of it, though they’d chosen not to belong to it. Yet their very isolation made them vulnerable.
Unfortunately for all of them, humanity was seldom kind to the vulnerable things in this world.
11
Sister Agatha met Frank and Joey Walters at the door. Joey, who stood nearly as tall as his dad, was slender and had dark brown hair. Unlike his conservatively dressed father, Joey wore baggy black slacks and a sports jersey with some athlete’s last name on the back. He had a perpetually sullen and vacant expression.
Sister invited them into the parlor and offered them something cold to drink. Frank declined, but then added, “Sister, what I’d really like to find out is whether Sister Clothilde will be baking her special oatmeal-pecan cookies this year for our Fourth of July Town Fair.”
She smiled. Sister Clothilde’s cookies were famous around town. She only made them t
wice a year—for sale at the Fourth of July fund-raiser, then on Christmas as a special treat for the sisters. Yet, despite the rarity of her baking sessions, word had spread, and she’d received special requests from VIPs like the archbishop and the New Mexico state governor.
“You can count on it,” she said. “She loves making her own contribution to the things the monastery sells at the fair.”
“Good. Save me a dozen. Deal?”
“Deal.”
As soon as they arrived in the scriptorium, Frank began to work, sending his son back out to their van for tools and supplies. “What I’m going to do is upgrade some of your existing equipment, but not your hard drives. That would cause more problems for you than it would solve. Upgrading will be expensive, but less than the cost of all new computers. Consider it part of my donation. Of course, in addition to the cookies, I’ll expect a month’s worth of novenas from you,” he said, then added with a smile, “and the prayers of the other sisters as well.”
“Is there a particular intention you’d like us to ask for?”
“Just pray that my company gets out of the slump it’s in right now.”
“You’ve got it.” She smiled. “We’ve all got a stake in you.”
Checking the time, Sister Agatha stood up. “I need to go to check the sacristy, Frank. Father Mahoney may come in early, but I’ll be back soon.” She looked at Sister Mary Lazarus and Celia. “Go to chapel for private prayer, Sisters.”
“With your permission, Mother Mistress, Sister Ignatius asked that I help in the bakery. She needs to get a shipment of altar bread out today and really needs an extra pair of hands,” Mary Lazarus said.
“You may go to her.”
Leaving Sister Bernarda with Frank and Joey, she hurried to the sacristy, checked the mass vestments carefully, then placed them in the two-way drawer, ready for Father Mahoney. As she did, she was reminded of Father Anselm’s last Mass, and a pang of sorrow stabbed through her. “We’ll find out the truth, Father,” she whispered to the empty room, knowing the priest’s spirit would never be far from them. “I promise.”
Bad Faith Page 14
