Read In This Small Spot Online
Authors: Caren Werlinger
Tags: #womens fiction, #gay lesbian, #convent, #lesbian fiction, #nuns
The scientist in Mickey cast a seed of doubt
in the belief that Mary’s earthly body was actually taken to
heaven, and she read with some skepticism the accounts of St.
Bernadette and the many others to whom Mary had allegedly appeared,
but “I want to believe in those things,” she admitted to Sister
Josephine. “Then do,” said Sister Josephine.
“Just like that?” asked Mickey. “You make it
sound so simple.”
Sister Josephine smiled. “Belief is simple.
It is doubt that is hard. We can’t prove any of this in ways that
our puny minds or science or medicine can understand. If we try to
rationalize it, we’ll drive ourselves crazy.”
“But,” Mickey frowned, “it feels so childish
and naïve to just believe because I’m told to believe. Isn’t that
what the church has done to people for centuries? ‘Believe in what
we tell you because we know better than you? Believe the earth is
flat. Believe the sun revolves around the earth.’ I’m afraid my
trust doesn’t extend that far.”
Sister Josephine considered. “Trust your
heart. That’s what Bernadette did, in spite of the reprimands and
threats of the local church authorities – all male, I might add –
she defied them and did what she knew was right and she trusted her
heart. That simple act of trust made all the difference for those
of us who look to her for inspiration.”
“Excuse me, Sister Josephine?” Sister
Lucille opened the door to the novices’ classroom. “I’m sorry to
interrupt, but Mother asked to see Sister Michele at once.”
Mickey accompanied Sister Lucille out of the
classroom and went straight to Mother Theodora’s office. The door
was ajar when Mickey got there. She knocked and was startled to
hear Mother skip the standard greeting and say instead, “Come in,
Mickey, and close the door behind you.”
Mother Theodora came from behind her desk,
and held a letter out to Mickey. Mickey couldn’t decipher the
expression on her face as she accepted the letter and read it.
It was from an attorney, alleging that Wendy
Barnes and Abigail Morgan had fled St. Bridget’s owing to sexual
harassment by Michele Stewart, a known lesbian. It went on to say
that, at different times, she had cornered each of them, fondling
and kissing them and trying to demand sexual contact in return. It
further alleged that Michele’s behavior was noticed and ignored by
Sister Rosaria, Sister Josephine and other nuns. The letter
requested a meeting to discuss a settlement for the emotional
distress suffered by Abigail and Wendy. A copy had gone to the
Cardinal’s office as well.
Mickey’s hands were trembling in anger by
the time she finished. Her face was red and hot. She looked at
Mother Theodora in disbelief.
“Sit, Mickey,” Mother Theodora said calmly.
Taking the other chair herself, she said, “I don’t believe one word
of that letter, but I have to ask if any part of it is true?”
Mickey looked Mother Theodora in the eye and
replied, “No.” She was too shocked to elaborate.
Mother nodded. “I think they, and their
lawyer, are trying to take advantage of the Church’s recent
embarrassment with regard to all the years of looking the other way
in the priest sex- abuse scandals.” She frowned. “But why you?”
Mickey’s jaw clenched. “Wendy and I have
clashed from the beginning. But after our retreats, she and Abigail
had become much closer. The night Sister Francis Marie died, I saw
Wendy leaving Abigail’s cell. I confronted them a few days later.
They didn’t deny that they were together. I told them they either
had to stop or leave, or I’d come to you.”
Mother sat stunned for a few seconds. “Why
didn’t you go to Sister Josephine and let her handle this?”
Mickey slumped back in her chair. “Maybe I
should have, but I had no proof, only a gut feeling. I seemed to be
the only one who didn’t like or trust Wendy. All the senior nuns
thought she was wonderful, but she is one of the sneakiest, most
manipulative people I have ever known. I didn’t think anyone would
believe me.” She looked down at the letter in her hands. “Wendy
doing this doesn’t surprise me that much, but Abigail…”
They both sat staring at the floor for long
minutes.
“What’s going to happen?” Mickey asked at
last.
“I don’t know,” Mother replied quietly. “I
would imagine the diocese will send someone to investigate the
validity of the claim.”
“Surely they won’t consider offering a
settlement?” Mickey asked, horrified.
Mother Theodora shook her head. “I honestly
don’t know.” She looked at Mickey. “This could get very
uncomfortable for you. I’m sure questions will be raised about your
past.”
“What about you?” Mickey asked. “Will this
affect their confidence in your leadership? You won’t face
sanctions because of this, will you?”
Mother Theodora didn’t answer.
Chapter 19
Still listening to Christmas carols as they
drove home to Baltimore, Alice was driving while Mickey played with
the new flyfishing reel she had received from Alice’s parents. As
they approached the flea-market intersection, Alice gasped. Mickey
glanced up and did a double-take. There, at the same stand, was the
woman they had bought things from a few days ago. Flapping from a
hanger tacked to the wooden stand was Mickey’s jacket.
Mickey stared with an open mouth as Alice
slowed for the red light. Alice didn’t say anything, trying not to
laugh. When the light changed and they were moving again, Mickey
put her head in her hand and groaned, “I am such a sucker.”
“Someone has to be,” Alice said.
“Gee, that makes me feel loads better.”
“No,” Alice clarified, reaching over for
Mickey’s hand, “I didn’t mean it that way.” She squeezed Mickey’s
hand, making her look up. “You trust everyone. You chose to do
something good and generous for someone who seemed to be in need
when no one else even saw her. You can’t control what she does with
your gift and whatever she does with it does nothing to diminish
your goodness in giving it. I love you for that,” she said with a
smile that made Mickey’s heart melt.
Mickey twisted in her seat for one more
look. “Damn, I really liked that jacket.” She turned to Alice
suddenly and said, “Hey, you don’t suppose we could –”
“No!”
Chapter 20
The diocese wasted no time in reacting.
Mother Theodora received a telephone call telling her a diocesan
attorney would be at St. Bridget’s Tuesday next, accompanied by
Bishop Marcus. They wanted to interview Mickey, of course, as well
as Sisters Rosaria and Josephine, and all of the postulants and
novices who had been with Mickey plus anyone else with pertinent
information.
Mother Theodora asked Mickey how she wanted
to handle this with the community at large.
“Even here, rumors will circulate,” Mickey
sighed. “Better to give everyone the facts as we know them rather
than let them speculate as to what all the fuss is about.”
So Mother Theodora called a meeting of the
entire community. A tense silence filled the room as they waited
for her to speak. “Sisters, we are in the midst of an unfortunate
situation, one which is likely to shake our very foundation,” she
began. “The diocese and the abbey have received a letter from an
attorney representing Wendy Barnes and Abigail Morgan, the two
novices who left us recently.” Mickey noticed she did not refer to
them as Sister. “They are accusing Sister Michele of harassing
them, physically and sexually.” As expected, there was an immediate
low ripple of voices reacting to this news. Mother Theodora
continued in an assertive voice, “I do not for one second believe
any of these charges, but with recent events across the country,
the diocese cannot ignore accusations of this nature.”
Mickey could feel how red her face was; she
couldn’t help it. She didn’t know where to look. If she looked
people directly in the eye, would it be seen as a declaration of
innocence or as intimidation? If she kept her eyes lowered, would
that be viewed as humility or as guilty shame? She felt
trapped.
“As we resolve this issue, I ask all of you
to pray.” Mother Theodora’s voice broke into Mickey’s thoughts.
“Pray for Sister Michele whom I believe has been unjustly accused.
Pray for St. Bridget’s, that we do not become a house divided. But
most of all, pray for Abigail and Wendy, that they will realize the
error of making these false allegations in what I believe is a
misguided attempt to redress some perceived wrong.”
Mickey sat in shock at this last part, not
because she couldn’t believe Mother had asked them to pray for
Wendy and Abigail, but because
it didn’t even occur to me to do
so
. Even after all this time, she didn’t turn to prayer as her
foremost means of dealing with things beyond her control. Her first
impulse was to keep searching, keep trying to find some way of
altering the outcome herself, rather than turning it over and
saying, in essence, “I need your help. I’m not strong enough to
deal with this on my own.”
It was one of those moments, like Sister
Anselma’s melting during Mickey’s retreat, when “I felt like God
prodded my soul with that realization,” Mickey would try to explain
to Sister Anselma much later. “It was so much more intimate than
just the mental awareness of something. For the first time in my
life, I knew with absolute certainty, that I am never alone.”
That moment of grace would be called upon
many times as the interviews began.
Father Thomas Applegate arrived at St.
Bridget’s the following Tuesday in the midst of a cold, grey
drizzle, accompanied by Bishop Marcus. Father Thomas came with his
own agenda. He carried the burden of having unsuccessfully defended
the diocese in two of the priest sex abuse cases, and the diocese
had been ordered to pay millions to the victims. He knew his
superiors didn’t hold him responsible for those losses, but he was
determined not to be in that position again.
In contrast to Bishop Marcus’s dark beauty
and calm demeanor, Father Thomas was short and squat, his face
permanently scarred by acne. He reminded Mickey of a fat ferret,
his small eyes darting about nervously behind thick eyeglasses. He
had the irritating habit of constantly rotating the ostentatious
ring he wore on his left hand by turning it with his thumb and
little finger. The more agitated he became, the faster he twirled
the ring.
The interviews started with Mickey. She sat
in a chair in the middle of three tables arranged in a U, with
Bishop Marcus and Father Thomas seated with Mother Theodora at the
middle table, and members of the abbey’s Council seated on either
side. Father Thomas wasted no time in delving into Mickey’s past.
He asked a few standard questions about where she lived prior to
entering and how long she had been at St. Bridget’s.
“Have you ever been involved sexually with
another woman?” he asked unexpectedly.
Mickey hadn’t been prepared for this to be
his approach. She tried to keep her eyes on him, but she was
painfully aware of the stares of the Council members on either side
of her.
“I was in a long-term lesbian relationship
prior to entering St. Bridget’s,” she said, trying to keep her
voice even.
Father Thomas’s eyes popped at such a candid
admission. “You… you admit you’re a lesbian?” he asked
incredulously. In his excitement, he forgot to twirl his ring.
Clenching her fists tightly, Mickey was
grateful for the concealing design of her habit’s sleeves.
“Yes.”
Mother Theodora interrupted. “Sister Michele
was candid with me about her past. Her partner died four years ago.
It was a faithful, monogamous relationship. I saw no reason why
Michele should not be treated the same as any of the other widows
who have sought entrance to St. Bridget’s in the past. Assuming we
are all honoring our vows, someone’s past relationships are not
necessarily reason to deny entrance.”
Mickey scanned the faces of the Council
members. Most were neutral or sympathetic, but Sister Scholastica’s
expression caught Mickey by surprise. It was “triumphant,” Mickey
would realize later when trying to digest everything that
happened.
“Yes, but to admit a known lesbian to an
abbey of nuns,” Father Thomas sputtered, clearly feeling that he
had an airtight case now.
“Father Thomas,” Mickey spoke up, getting
angry. “I gave up an extremely lucrative medical practice to enter
St. Bridget’s.” She had forgotten only three members of the
community knew about that –
oh well, too late now
. “I also
taught at one of the nation’s leading medical schools. I’ve had
dozens of students and patients become infatuated with me over the
years. If I had wanted casual sex, I could have had my fill,
without forcing anyone – male or female or both at the same time.”
Might as well shock them all at this point.
“And I could
have had it without the deprivations and inconveniences of living
in a monastery.” She thought she saw Mother Theodora cover a smile.
“Now, might I suggest that our time would be better spent
addressing the specific allegations of which I am accused.”
“I am inclined to agree,” Bishop Marcus
spoke for the first time.
Father Thomas jerked his head in an
impression of a nod toward the Bishop as if someone else were
manipulating his movements. “Very well. What is your response to
the allegations?”
“They are completely false.”
The expression on his face clearly said he
had expected her to deny the charges and didn’t believe her. After
all, he’d heard similar denials before, only to have them proven to
be lies. Proven in front of a judge and jury, leaving him standing
there looking like a… He gave his head a minute shake. “You never…”
he struggled to find the right word, “approached either of
them?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Can you prove that?”