by J. N. Chaney
I looked around as we entered through the wooden door. Clementine kept her eyes on the floor, with her hands clenched and her body tense as she walked to the nearby couch against the far wall. I’d never seen my friend look like that, and I couldn’t shake the sick feeling of dread in my belly. I regretted every step I’d taken since we’d left the dormitory.
“Clementine knows what to do,” said Mackavoy. “Follow her lead and take a seat.” Despite the politeness of her tone, the hand on my shoulder was tight and firm, her fingers digging into me. She pushed me towards a couch, causing me to briefly stumble before I caught my footing and continued forward.
I sat beside my friend on the sofa—dark red with a purple trim—and the nun smiled, giving Clementine’s hair a stroke before finally shaking her head at the both of us.
“Now, petty thievery might not seem like such an awful thing, but stealing a crumb is the same as stealing a loaf. All sin is the same in the eyes of the gods, and so you must receive the same punishment, too.” She walked away from us and went to her dresser, opening the highest drawer and retrieving a wooden paddle.
My eyes snapped to Clem. “W-what’s that for?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
Clementine said nothing.
I looked back at Mackavoy, and she turned to us, a smirk on her face. She slid her free hand along the edge of the wooden paddle like she was examining it.
“I-I’m sorry Sister Mackavoy!” I exclaimed. “We won’t do it again! I promise!”
The woman held up a finger to her lips. “Now, now, child. You must be quiet, or the penance will increase.”
I could feel my heart beating as my breathing intensified, but I still found the strength to shut my mouth. Maybe if I did what she said, she’d let us go. Maybe this was just a test to see if we were obedient. Maybe this was all for show.
“Clementine,” said the nun. She pointed at her, twirling her finger.
Clementine stood up, a flat expression on her face, and began to unlace her gown. It gently fell to the floor, and I closed my eyes.
I felt terror jolt through me. This had to be a dream. I must still be in my bed, wrestling with a nightmare, trying to wake up.
“Abigail,” Mackavoy said, raising the paddle and pointing it at me. “Your turn.”
“B-but…” I was having a hard time speaking, the lump in my throat getting bigger, choking my voice. What was this feeling I had? I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking.
“Don’t make me tell you again,” said the nun, her tone less sweet, less gentle, like all the goodness had drained from her in the last few minutes, gone to some other place.
I looked at Clem again, trying to get some kind of response, but she only stood there, staring forward, an empty expression replacing the girl I knew. I forced myself to stand, then undid my lace, taking my time with it as I tried to find a way out of this.
But what could I do? I was being punished for something I did. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t a lie. I’d stolen food, so it was my fault, wasn’t it? If one of the other sisters saw this, they’d probably agree that I deserved it.
I tucked my arms from the sleeves and let the garment fall to my feet, and I closed my eyes again.
“Now, sit,” said Mackavoy.
I swallowed but did as she said. I wanted to go away from here. Something about this felt wrong.
“You girls all think you deserve everything,” the sister continued. She eyed the two of us, letting her words linger for a while. “You deserve nothing. Do you think I had it this easy when I was your age?”
“No, Sister Mackavoy,” said Clementine. Her voice was almost monotone.
With my eyes still closed, I tried to imagine another place, another time. I did it sometimes during class when I got bored. But this wasn’t dull. It had my full attention in all the worst ways. I’d have to struggle to escape it, imagining myself anywhere but inside this room with this woman.
“So very ugly,” said the woman. I peeked my eyes open to see her scowling at us, slowly shaking her head. She looked disgusted like we were garbage. “Clementine, turn around and accept your punishment.”
Clem got up and did as she was told, placing her hands on the sofa as the sister raised the paddle. I closed my eyes and turned away. I heard the paddle come down hard, the sound of it so loud it filled the chamber like a thunderclap. I flinched with every blow, increasingly afraid as my friend received her blows. Through it all, Clem barely reacted. She never made so much as a grunt or a cry. No quivering sounds. She was stronger than me, braver. She was like a different person, and I didn’t know why.
The whole time, I pictured myself in a place with my mother and father. They were laughing and smiling, and I was doing the same. We were happy together, so far away from this place, maybe on another planet in another star system. I could almost smell my mother’s perfume, a blend of roses and jasmine. It was exotic. A perfect fit for a woman so beautiful.
“Abigail,” a voice said, piercing my daydream and forcing me to stir. “It’s your turn now.”
I cracked my eyes open, slowly looking at Clementine at my side. She had turned around and sat quietly in her spot, saying nothing.
Mackavoy raised the paddle. “On your feet, girl.”
“I, um, p-please don’t, um—” I could barely get the words out, as though the fear had scrambled my brain and twisted my tongue. The anticipation of the pain was overwhelming me. I wasn’t sure I could handle this.
“Now!” snapped Mackavoy, causing me to jerk away. Her tone was so hateful, so loud.
“B-but, I—” I pulled back, sinking into the sofa.
“Enough!” She grabbed my wrist and dragged me from the seat, spinning me around with more force than I could resist. She was so big compared to me, and so much stronger. I couldn’t do anything to stop this if I wanted to. I was just a kid.
“B-but—” The tears came at last, overwhelming my senses. A warm flush ran across my cheeks as the reality of what was about to happen finally settled. This was going to hurt, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I closed my eyes, still crying, and the tears flooded out of me faster than they had in a long time. Think about mother and father, I told myself, trying to find the images again. A dark-haired woman, beautiful curls and green eyes. A burly man with a booming, jovial voice. Chocolate and walnut cookies in the oven. Those were always my favorite. They’d know that, and the house would smell of them. Mother would help me with my studies and tell me wonderful stories. I always liked books about other places. My parents would say they believed in me. We’d have a pet dog too, and…my mother would be pregnant with my baby brother.
I heard something squishy behind me, along with a few grunts, and then some kind of movement. A warm liquid sprayed against my backside, causing me to cringe and turn around.
The nun was gripping her neck, blood seeping through her fingers. She had holes in her garments, right along the sides, and red stains were forming.
Clementine held a small knife in her hand as she stood before me, a quiet, empty look on her face.
Mackavoy’s eyes began to roll back, and she stumbled forward. Clementine dug the knife into the old woman again, at least four or five times in rapid succession, each in the belly. I could hardly process any of this, it happened so quickly.
The nun staggered, almost stumbling forward. Her head bobbed, and her arms dangled like she was half-asleep. I couldn’t tell what she was trying to do. She seemed to move her lips, but only mumbles came out, and even then, they were mostly whispers.
She stumbled to her left, reaching for what looked like a piece of cloth on the nearby lampstand, but missed it completely, knocking the whole thing down. The bulb shattered in a hard crash, and I flinched. She fell on her hands and knees, still trying to get to the cloth, but her hand dropped like it was limp, and she scraped it across the glass.
Her body was covered in blood, red replacing her porcelain skin. I wanted to scream
, but all I could do was watch, totally frozen.
She began to crawl, this time to her desk area. Her mouth continued to open and close, although she was saying nothing. There were only smacking, wet sounds.
Finally, when she neared the desk, she reached out with a shaking, weak arm to grab a white box, hidden in the open compartment below. She thumbed at the edge, slipping each time, and leaving a swipe of blood. The box fell over, and I saw a medical sign on the front.
Mackavoy’s arms finally gave out completely, and she collapsed on her belly, tears in her eyes as they darted around the room, not focusing on anything in particular.
Clementine only stood there, a vacant expression on her face. She looked down at the nun as she struggled to breathe.
Clementine watched it all.
My eyes drifted down from my friend’s face to the knife in her hand. It was the same one from the counter, the tiny blade sitting next to the fruit and the Book of Ages. When had she decided to take it? Why hadn’t Mackavoy noticed? She’d had her eyes on us the entire time.
I tried so hard to yell or speak, but my mouth wouldn’t even open. I wanted to ask what was happening. I wanted to ask Clementine why she had done this bad thing.
Because it was bad, right? Mackavoy was on the floor, so it had to be, didn’t it?
Clementine was quiet and still, blood covering the entire dagger in her hand. She was like a different person, nothing in her eyes. No sign of the girl I knew. No emotion to tell me how to feel or what to think. Nothing but a void.
I heard the door open, but I still couldn’t react. I turned my head around to see Sister Mable standing under the arch. She looked completely horrified. “Oh, my gods!”
Clementine dropped the knife. “I-I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, hoarsely. She backed away from the body, reaching for her clothes, which were now covered in the nun’s blood. “I just wanted it to stop. I—”
Mable’s eyes darted between Mackavoy and the two of us. After only a few seconds, the shock faded as she assessed what happened. She walked across the room, stepping over the body and pulling Clementine and me away. When we were near the door, she returned to the bed on the other side of the room, taking the sheets and wrapping us both. Before I could ask what was going on, she’d placed us inside one of the hallway closets. “Stay right here. I’ll be right back. Do you understand? Nod if you do, girls. Please, you have to listen. Do you understand?”
We both nodded.
“Good,” she said, quickly, and looked around. “Stay here.”
Clementine’s lip began to tremble, and her eyes welled up with tears. “I didn’t mean it.”
Mabel nodded. “I know you didn’t, Clem. Please, just stay here.”
She closed the door behind her, leaving us in the dark. We didn’t say anything, but my eyes drifted down to my hands. They were clean. Clementine’s were still red and wet, but mine were still so clean.
I didn’t have the cookies, I suddenly realized. I’d left them back in the room.
“I need to go back,” I said in a hoarse whisper. “I left the cookies on the couch.”
“What?” Clementine asked. There wasn’t much light, but I could still see the confusion in her eyes.
“We can’t leave the cookies back there,” I said, my voice a bit clearer. “I need to get rid of them. We’ll get in trouble if anyone finds out we—”
Clementine shook her head firmly. “No, Sister Mable told us to wait here. Forget the cookies, Abby.”
“But—”
Mable opened the door again before Clem could answer. She was carrying some traveling bags and two sets of clothes. “Get dressed, girls. We’re going on a trip. Don’t worry. Just do as I say, and everything will be fine.”
She closed the door again, leaving the clothes in our hands. I stripped down and dressed in the comfortable day clothes that Mable provided. “Open the door when you’re ready, girls,” Mable told us.
I had a difficult time getting dressed. Maybe it was the darkness of the closet, or maybe it was something else. I felt clumsy like I barely had the strength to lift my arms.
A moment later, we were standing in the hall. I felt Mable’s hand on my shoulder, guiding me toward the building’s door. A street lamp caught my eye. I could feel how cold it was outside, but it didn’t really matter. My head was in a fog, and I didn’t care enough to ask what was going on or where we were going.
I looked out the window but couldn’t see much. We were in a shuttle now, moving quickly. The cold had gone away, and Sister Mable was talking quickly and worriedly through a communicator. I knew I should try to pay attention, but I was so tired, so drained, as though I’d been standing in the sun all day.
A short while later, I felt Clementine wrap her arm around me.
It was nice, and I relaxed a little more.
Two
I kept shivering from the cold, but a mug of hot chocolate helped settle that once we reached our destination. Having something warm and sweet to sip on was also relaxing, which seemed like a good thing considering the back alley building we’d managed to find ourselves at. A man had been waiting for us at the gate, opening it immediately as we arrived. It was a compound of some sort, though the darkness made the details hard to see. I had no idea where we were or the path we’d taken to get here. I didn’t even know what time it was.
Mable ushered us into a room. My mind was foggy, but the chocolate helped, even if it was only a little. I sat down beside Clem on a set of stools, waiting while Mabel remained standing. After a few minutes, my eyes grew heavy, and I wanted to sleep.
The door snapped open with a hiss, causing me to jump in my seat, and I quickly focused on not spilling any of the drink. A man who wasn’t very tall or good looking, but carried himself comfortably and smoothly, entered all by himself. He looked dirty, not like the priests or the clergymen. I’d never seen a man like that before.
He smiled when he saw Sister Mable.
“Mable, it’s good to see you again,” he said in a deep and gravelly voice, making it difficult for me to hear him, so I moved a little bit closer.
“It’s been too long, Mulberry,” Mable said with a smile, although it wasn’t her patient smile. A happy smile, yes, but different. More familiar maybe.
Clementine shifted beside me, watching the interaction between the two just as closely.
“Have you decided to give up a life of piety and return here, where you belong?” he asked in his low voice.
Mable shook her head. “I’m sorry. You know I’ve never felt at peace here.”
His smile disappeared. “And you know that while I respect your decision, I’ll always hope that you change your mind. I’ve even tried praying a couple of times, just to see if someone was listening.”
Mable giggled. “I just need your help with these two. I found them in… well, a situation.” She leaned in closer and whispered in Mulberry’s ear.
His eyes slowly widened, drifting to look at us. As Mable pulled away, the man chuckled. “They did that?” he asked, surprised. “That must have been quite a sight.”
I flinched and didn’t know why.
“I’m not so sure I can take them in, but maybe we can figure something out,” Mulberry said.
Mable didn’t seem convinced. “Just look at them. They need a place to stay, and I have nowhere else to turn. The Church will bury this and the two of them along with it. They’ll be sent away to some awful place. You’ve heard about the government orphanages, haven’t you? Delinquents, all of them.”
“What sort of folk do you think we are, Mable?” he asked with a chuckle. “There ain’t no one but delinquents in this place.”
She paused. “Better the devil you know. Isn’t that right?”
He smirked. “Is that what they say?”
“Besides, you don’t have to expose them to those things. I can get you lesson materials for their education. I only need you to house and feed them. It’s only for a few years until they reach
seventeen.”
“A few years? They’re still babies,” he said.
“We’re twelve,” said Clementine.
The old man looked at her with surprise, like he hadn’t expected her to respond. “Still,” he said, turning back to Mable. “Five years is a long time to babysit.”
I looked away as Mulberry turned toward us again, and as close as I was to Clementine, I could feel her do the same.
“Please,” said Mable, and this time her voice was soft and gentle, more than I’d ever heard from her before. She leaned closer to him, and he seemed to relax. Finally, he smiled. “Anything for you, Mable.”
Mable blushed. “Thank you.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.
He smiled again, bigger and brighter than before. Mable backed up and gave him some space, allowing him to turn his attention to us.
He wasn’t an ugly man, but the way all the emotion seemed to instantly melt from his face made him a little terrifying.
Clementine and I pushed back into our seats as he came to a halt right in front of us.
“Girls, I understand that you’ve had a busy evening,” he said. “I hope to make it at least a little easier. I just need to look at you for a moment, and then we can find some beds for you to spend the night in.” His voice was that same low rumble, vibrating from his chest. It seemed out of place for such a lean-built man, at least to my mind.
Clementine and I stood from our seats awkwardly in front of him.
His eyes were brown and lingered on every part of our bodies. It felt like an inspection, as if we were animals in a pet store window.
He squatted down to Clementine, running his eyes up and down her. He suddenly pressed his hands against her clothes to show what the slack had been hiding. She gasped and took a step away from him, and he moved back quickly. He didn’t apologize, but I could sense he meant no ill toward her. “Not much meat on you,” he remarked. “What are they feeding you at that church, eh? Scraps and slop?”
