Bad Habits: A Dark Anthology - Yolanda Olson Page 0,36

I always came back to who I was, the gifts I possessed that not another among me wielded. I knew I was different, odd and “not right in the head.” I’d seen and done many things that shouldn’t have been possible. But I never in a million years thought I’d have this. Intimacy. The love and touch that a woman and a man experience together.

I shook myself from my thoughts and dropped the act of praying. I had things to do and a gift to give.

Sneaking out into the kitchen and to the dining hall, I waited for Sister Diane by the exit door. I knew the homeless started arriving and camping out around five, even though they had to wait an hour or so before we opened our doors. So it was only the work of a moment when Diane showed up—looking curious but much more chastised—that I opened the door to the outside and pulled her along with me.

The evening sun greeted us in the west, outlining three men who leaned against the building. When they saw us, they straightened, hunger and wariness painting their haggard faces. And very surprised at our sudden appearance. Not stopping, I crooked a finger for them to follow, pulling Diane in the direction of the woods behind the church. They followed.

When we were far enough away from any prying eyes, I released the Sister’s arm. She fell at my feet and looked up at me, waiting. Anticipating.

God help me, I was starting to actually like the woman.

From the corner of my eye, I could see the three men had arrived. I looked over at them as they, too, stood waiting. My eyes traveled up and down their body. Not too old, not too young, pretty healthy-looking. They’d do.

I turned back to the woman at my feet. “Something I learned long ago is that when people insult another, throwing accusations or insults back and forth, it’s usually because they themselves are what they charge the other of being. You called me a slut, a whore.” Here she shook her head adamantly, now becoming afraid. I touched her head. “Be still, listen. It is you who yearn to be used, to be passed from man to man.” I gentled my voice then. “To desire is not wrong, Sister. If it were, you and I wouldn’t be here, neither would anyone. Desire is the fuel to life’s spark. Without it we cannot create.”

“Yes, Sister.” She lowered her eyes. “You are very wise. He was right to choose you.” She looked up at me again. “Please forgive me… Mother.”

The word jolted me, and for an instant it felt like the whole wooded-area around us waited on bated breath, waiting for my acceptance. I felt the concept she offered surround me, touching my spirit with infinitesimal, probing fingers.

Setting it aside for later observation, I waved it all away and leaned down to kiss my fellow Sister’s lips. They were warm and trembling. There was no passion in the act, only a benediction. Having given it, I whispered, “Do as thou wilt, Daughter.”

I released her and turned to the men. “She is yours to take. Make it fast if you want to eat. We close our doors at seven.”

And then I left them to it.

When I made it back into the dining hall, I ran right into Sister Abigail.

“Child, what are you doing? You need to be in the kitchen! Do you see the time?”

I looked at the clock on the wall above the serving table. Six on the dot. Wait. Kitchen?

“Yes, you! It’s your night.” She shooed me with a hand as she began setting up for dinner, rummaging through the shelf that held all the to-go boxes.

Shit.

She was right. On the board that hung on the swinging kitchen door was my name in chalk, right next to “Friday’s Dinner Duty.” I sure didn’t volunteer for it, so this was the first time I’d heard of it.

I frowned. Did the Sisters want to die? I didn’t know how to cook!

I opened every cabinet, searching for something simple that I could just take a can opener to. Not a damn thing, not even bread for sandwiches. All they had was fresh food that, when combined, went into a stew or casserole. Even if I knew what the hell I was doing, there wasn’t any time for casseroles.

There was only one thing to do.

I sprinted out to Sister Hazel’s office, switched on the light, and found a phone book.