Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,27

The novitiates, like myself, boarded with each. Having my own space one day was pretty much the only incentive I needed to keep me on the up and right.

“Have a seat, Sister,” Mother Mary Margret said when we entered her sitting room, gesturing to the puke-green, thread-bare chair that always smelled faintly of farts when sat upon.

While she searched in her desk drawers, I observed her. Her eyebrows were thin with a light dusting of gray mixed in with ginger. She was either a strawberry blonde or a redhead. At sixty-two, she had been our Reverend Mother since 1984. Robust and surly, she was a good Mother. She had her moments, and we certainly butted heads more often than not, but I respected her in my own way. She was a very curious creature, though. She had no vices. Not a single one.

Sister Harriet, for instance—the fretter—was led by ego. Sister Imogen, drink. Almost all the Sisters here lusted for someone or something, but not Mother Mary Margret. It was like she was formed without desire. The only bear inside her I could poke was her love of order.

Only a few times could I poke, however. She always proved more patient, more clever. Eventually I’d give up and look elsewhere for my fun.

“The Sisters of Trevorstone Parish are in need of volunteers for the annual Blessings in Hope meet taking place next week,” she finally said. “They are new to the area and want to represent the town. Lot of work for a parish that’s only been around for a few months. Came from somewhere west, I heard.” She waved her hand in my direction. “I am volunteering you, Constance. You will leave on the first bus out at 6 AM tomorrow. You’ll arrive in Trevorstone in the evening.”

Caught in total surprise, my mouth gaped open. She was letting me leave the convent? On my own?

“Close your mouth, Sister!” she admonished. “Yes, I see it is a shock even to you.” She sighed and set her hands flat on her desk. “But I have faith in you, Constance. You have been here under my tutelage for a long time now, have graduated from your studies, and are about to take your second vows. It is time for you to prove to us that you are cut out for this life, and for this convent.”

I swallowed, straightening in my seat. “Yes, Mother.”

Her gaze circled my face, looking for what, I didn’t know. Seemingly satisfied, she clapped the desk. “Now, let’s get going, I’m hungry.” She slid over a manilla envelope with my name on it. “Here are your tickets, an envelope of money for food and such, and some information about the parish and Blessings of Hope, and what your tasks will be. Their Order is a bit more strict, I will tell you now, so you must be on your very best behavior. But I think you’ll do fine.”

“This is a test, isn’t it?” I asked, not hurt in the least of her perception of me being a “difficult child.”

She nodded. “Indeed, it is. You will be gone for over two weeks, and when you return, we will discuss your future here at Our Lady of Heavenly Hope.” She stood then, nodding for me to take the packet. I wondered how much money was in that envelope and whether it was enough to spend just a little on something frivolous.

The excitement washed over me for a minute, holding me in thrall, and before I could school my features, Mother Margret said, “Sister Gail will be my eyes and ears, giving me a report every night on you, Sister. I’m sure you will find her every bit as vigilant as myself.” She gave me that look, the one that could wither the wings of the loveliest butterfly.

“Of course, Mother.” I bowed my head in respect and hid my smile. I could wait until I was alone in my bed to think on it all tomorrow.

“May God be with you, child.” She sniffed and stood there staring down at me for a good while. “Well, let’s go then.”

As we walked together down to the dining hall, my thoughts skipped ahead like excited children playing in the first snow. An adventure awaited me. Finally, I had something to look forward to.

It was a long time before I fell asleep.

Thoughts of riding the bus, observing the real world, having my own money, kept me awake until the wee hours. And now with Solomon’s return