Prey for a Miracle (6 page)

“The roof
was
damaged during a storm,” Sister Bernarda said. “Can’t we collect on our insurance?”

Reverend Mother sighed. “Unfortunately we missed two payments in a row and that part of our coverage lapsed.”

Sister Ignatius was the first to speak. “The Lord has always provided for our needs. We should bring this matter to Him and let Him handle the problem for us.”

“We do need prayers, child, now more than ever,” Reverend Mother agreed softly.

“We’ll get started on that immediately. This might seem insurmountable to us, but nothing is insurmountable to God,” Sister Ignatius answered, her voice as firm as her faith. “And remember the angel-shaped cloud we saw the night of the storm. That was a sure sign that we’re being watched over.”

Sister Eugenia, ever practical, looked at the others, then at Reverend Mother. “Sister Maria Victoria’s quilts are popular and always sell for a good price. Is it possible she could do another one?”

Sister Maria Victoria looked at Sister Eugenia. “Sister Ignatius, Sister Gertrude and I have been working on a pictorial quilt that shows Our Blessed Mother. It think it’s one of our best and it should be finished soon.”

“That’s wonderful,” Reverend Mother said. “As soon as it’s ready, make sure Sister Agatha or Sister Bernarda places a photo of it on our Web site. But we’ll need more than this quilt can raise.”

“We can bring back our Rent-a-Nun project. People like the idea of hiring one of us to pray for them,” Sister Bernarda said. “We’ll post suggested donations for each rental time frame—a day, week, or month. We did this a few years ago during another crisis and it helped.”

“We’ll do it again. Does anyone else have any other ideas?” Reverend Mother asked.

“There’s one other way to raise funds quickly—and maybe it’ll give us a new source of steady income, as well,” Sister Agatha said slowly. “Whenever I go into town, people always ask me if they can buy some of our Cloister Cluster cookies. Smitty the grocer, in particular, never fails to do that. I think he’d carry them in his store if we asked, and other merchants might be willing to do that, too. If we could start baking the cookies on a regular schedule I think we’ll be able to turn it into a good, steady business.”

Reverend Mother glanced at Sister Clothilde. The elderly nun spoke through hand signals only, but by now most of them could communicate easily with her.

Sister Clothilde nodded, then pointed around the room and back to herself.

“Yes, we’ll all be happy to help. You won’t be doing this alone,” Reverend Mother said. “Any more suggestions?” When no one else spoke, she nodded once and continued. “Then let’s set our plans in motion.” Reverend Mother looked at Sister Agatha. “I want you to come up with some estimates. Figure out what it would cost us to mass-produce the cookies and what kind of profit we could expect to make.”

“Mother, you want a profit and loss statement,” Sister Gertrude said. “I know how to do that. Please let me help.”

Reverend Mother shook her head. “Not yet. You’re still recovering.” Seeing Sister Gertrude’s downcast expression, she relented. “On second thought, we do need your help. But let Sister Agatha do the preliminary work. Your job will be to check her work.”

“Yes, Mother. And thank you!” Sister Gertrude said with a bright smile.

“I’ll get the paperwork to you as soon as possible, Sister,” Sister Agatha said.

As the bell sounded signalling time for the Angelus, Reverend Mother stood and led the prayer. “The Angel of the Lord declared unto Mary…”

“... and she conceived by the Holy Spirit,” the sisters answered, their words echoing softly as the peals of the Mary bell resonated in the distance.

When Sister Agatha returned to the parlor, Natalie had already eaten and Sister de Lourdes was at the desk. Across the entry hall, in Natalie’s new quarters, Father Mahoney was giving his niece one last hug.

“You’ll be okay?” he asked.

“Sure! I like it here already,” Natalie said cheerfully.

“As you said yourself, Father, there’s no safer place in the world for her,” Sister Agatha reminded him gently as he stepped through the doorway.

He nodded. “Well then, I’d better go back to my duties.” With one last glance at Natalie, who was across the room, book in hand, he left through the outside door.

“I think we better say some prayers for Father, too,” Sister de Lourdes said softly.

As Sister de Lourdes left to ring the bell for Compline, Natalie came across the hall and into the parlor. “Is she gone to ring the bell again?”

Sister Agatha smiled and nodded. “That’s her job—well, one of her jobs.” Glancing at the book in Natalie’s hand, she added, “Did I bring the right book?”

She nodded. “I like this story a lot, and I’m glad you brought my queen doll, Regina. But I wish I had Gracie, my angel doll. Can we go get her?”

Sister Agatha shook her head. “No, not yet, but soon, I hope.”

Natalie sighed. “Even though my angel always keeps me company, I’m kind of homesick already. Having Gracie around would help.”

“We may have a teddy bear in St. Francis’s pantry. Shall I go look?”

She shook her head. “No, thank you. It wouldn’t be the same.”

Making a mental note to try and get her favorite doll as soon as possible, Sister Agatha helped Natalie into her nightclothes then explained the nighttime routine.

Seeing the apprehension in her eyes, Sister Agatha gave her a reassuring smile. “You can come to Compline then the blessing with me.” After that, she was sure Natalie would sleep peacefully.

At four thirty the next morning Sister Agatha heard the wake-up call. She had thirty minutes before Matins, the canonical hour said before daybreak. As she opened her eyes, she fought a sudden sense of disorientation. Why was she sitting in this uncomfortable chair? Her joints were on fire. Then, seeing Pax at her feet and Natalie asleep on the cot, she remembered.

In spite of her quick acceptance of the monastery, Natalie had experienced a rough first night. She’d stayed with externs as they’d joined the others at Compline and then
asperges,
a ceremony where holy water was sprinkled upon them in a symbolic cleansing from sin. Then she’d attended and taken part in the last blessing of the day, the
noctem quietam,
asking the Lord to grant them a “quiet night and a perfect end.” Even after all that, sleep had not come easy for Natalie.

Natalie hadn’t wanted to be alone, and at the first sign of a silent tear—for Natalie hadn’t broken the Great Silence—the externs had decided to take turns staying with her all throughout the night.

Spending time with Natalie and responding to the homesick little girl who hadn’t wanted to be left alone last night, had made her realize that her maternal instincts were still very much alive. Pushing back a momentary twinge of sadness for what might have been, she took a deep breath, walked to the door, and sent Pax outside.

As soon as Sister Bernarda arrived to take her place, she went to Matins. This morning, more than ever, she needed the comfort that would provide. The heavenly Father’s love would sustain her. Life came with precious few guarantees, but knowing His promises were kept was enough.

At the close of Morning Prayers, Sister Agatha relieved Sister de Lourdes. After
Lectio Divina,
Sister Bernarda arrived at the parlor, and stepped across the hall into what had become Natalie’s room. “Natalie, why don’t you and I take turns reading to each other from your book while Sister Agatha takes care of some monastery business?”

“Okay,” Natalie said.

Sister Bernarda ushered Natalie toward the chairs and closed the door behind them.

Alone, Sister Agatha checked the entrance doors at the end of the hall and made sure they were locked. Although normally the doors were unlocked during the day while a portress was on duty, for the duration of Natalie’s visit the front doors would only be open when a visitor came. That extra precaution would insure that no one came upon Natalie by chance. If anyone asked about the change in policy, they’d be told that it was a security precaution because of the presence of workers on the monastery grounds.

Sister Agatha made the necessary calls to get price quotes on the flour, nuts, and the other Cloister Cluster ingredients. Then, leaving the parlor in Sister Bernarda’s care, she went to the scriptorium and used one of the computers to make out a spreadsheet for up to six months of production. Once finished, she took the papers and went to find Sister Gertrude.

The elderly nun rechecked all the values and entries carefully, adding up everything in her mind. “These figures are correct based on your estimates,” Sister Gertrude said at last. “But I think there’s one problem you didn’t factor in.”

“What’s that?” Sister Agatha asked, looking over her shoulder and trying to guess.

“The cookies take eight to ten minutes to bake. And that doesn’t factor in the time needed to mix and place the dough on the cookie sheets. The quantity you have here will require hours of baking— possibly the entire day. The only way we can meet this schedule is with three or more ovens.”

“We have two, although, admittedly, one is very old. But these are hard times. Our equipment has to work for us. If worse comes to worse and one breaks down, Sister Bernarda and I will do our best to repair it ourselves. We can always cut our production, too, if sales drop off.”

“Then you’re all set,” Sister Gertrude said. “You can take these figures to Mother whenever you’re ready, with my blessing.”

Sister Agatha was mulling over Sister Gertrude’s warning when she heard the dinner bell. This was their main meal at the monastery and she was hungry.

Lost in thought, Sister Agatha went to the refectory. Although she was sure that the cookies would give them the funds they needed, the venture would require that all the nuns pitch in and sacrifice their time—and possibly some sleep—during the months to come. The prospect of possibly working round the clock was daunting, but there was no other way.

After the meal, Sister Agatha knocked lightly on Reverend Mother’s door, then went inside. “Praised be Jesus Christ.”

“Now and forever,” the abbess answered.

“Sit down, child.” Reverend Mother waved to the chair by her desk. “I hope you’re bringing me good news.”

“Good and bad, Mother,” she said candidly. “Sister Gertrude and I calculated the figures for various sale levels and it all looks good. But there’s a downside. With our current equipment, we may need to work round the clock in shifts. It’ll be hard work, but I think we can handle it.”

“Most of us can,” she agreed. “But we’ll have to make sure that Sister Clothilde and Sister Gertrude get very short shifts and lots of breaks. I would refuse to allow Sister Gertrude to help out at all, but I think that would do her more harm than good.”

Hearing the sound of distant thunder outside, Reverend Mother sighed. “Call Mr. Martinez as soon as possible, child, and authorize the work. I’ve put this off long enough.” She met Sister Agatha’s gaze and held it. “But it will be up to our externs to make sure that the workmen respect the rules of our cloister.
No one
can wander inside, and if they’re going to work near our enclosure windows, we need advance notice so the drapes can be closed.”

“We’ll take care of that, Mother,” she said.

Reverend Mother exhaled wearily, and for a brief moment, Sister Agatha got a glimpse of what Reverend Mother would look like when she reached her eighties. “And our young guest…how is she?”

Sister Agatha filled Reverend Mother in on the break-in at Jessica’s home and what had transpired since Natalie’s arrival. “I need to get her doll, the one she really plays with, but otherwise she seems to be adapting well.”

“I understand why the girl feels a spiritual bond to those who’ve received a calling. The logic is there. But these visions of hers. .. unsettle me.”

“Father believes that Natalie’s angel is simply her imaginary playmate,” she said. “The whole thing may be nothing more than a child’s game.”

“Then, for now, don’t encourage her to talk about that.” Reverend Mother reached for her rosary and ran the beads through her hands. “I’m very worried about all the sisters right now. These outside influences—our guest, the fund drive, the unbearable racket the roofers will make as they work—will take a terrible toll on everyone. It’s going to be very difficult for any of us to focus on our prayers.”

“But we’ve already received one very tangible blessing,” Sister Agatha said. “You saw it last night during our chapter meeting. Everyone came together as one, ready to weather the hard times ahead. We’ll come through this just fine, Mother.”

The abbess rewarded Sister Agatha with a smile.
“Deo gratias.”

Sister Agatha left Reverend Mother’s office. As she entered the parlor, she saw Natalie lying down on her stomach on the brick floor, reading her book and eating a cookie from a plate beside her.

Sister Bernarda smiled. “A gift from Sister Clothilde. All the sisters have come by to visit Natalie, though they stayed behind the grate, of course. Sister Ignatius presented our guest with a holy card depicting Our Lady and the Angel Gabriel, and Sister Gertrude brought her a needlepoint bookmark.”

Sister Agatha smiled. Natalie couldn’t have come at a worse time, and yet having her here among them had renewed all their spirits. Innocence cast its own special light even during the darkest of times.

I
T WAS AFTER NONE, THE LITURGICAL HOUR SAID AT THREE
commemorating the ninth hour when Christ died. Natalie was still reading, but looked a bit restless from what Sister Agatha could tell from across the narrow hall. For the past hour, she’d been watching the girl without seeming to do so. To be here, without friends her own age, or being able to use the computer, telephone, or television, would have been unbearable for most kids her age. Yet Natalie had accepted the situation without fuss so far. In some ways Sister Agatha suspected that solitude had become her most trusted companion, or maybe it was because she’d only been here less than a day.

“Do nuns have TV?” Natalie asked, closing the book and standing in the doorway.

“No, I’m sorry. But I’ll see if Father can provide one for you, if you’d like.”

“Or some games,” she said with a shrug.

Hearing a car coming up the drive, Sister Agatha went to the window and glanced outside.

“Shall I close my door?” Natalie asked.

“No, it’s not necessary. It’s Sheriff Green and he already knows you’re here.”

Sister de Lourdes came into the parlor just then and smiled at Natalie. “Are you getting cabin fever? You’ve been reading for a long time. I thought you might enjoy a walk outside in our garden. I have Reverend Mother’s permission to take you through the cloister, and out the back so no one can see you.”

“Cool!” Natalie said, scrambling to her feet and turning to smile at someone—or something—only she could see.

Sister Agatha felt a shiver course up her spine. Natalie’s gaze had been focused and centered. It hadn’t been the diffuse look of someone pretending to see what wasn’t there.

That’s when she had a sudden troubling thought. In their eagerness to discount Natalie’s visions, it was possible they’d overlooked one important possibility. Perhaps the girl was seeing something dark and evil masquerading as good.

Looking back at Sister Agatha, Natalie asked, “Can Pax come, too?” She glanced at the dog who’d been lying at the opposite end of the parlor by the enclosure door.

“I think that Pax would love a chance to go for a walk.” Then, to her own horror, Sister Agatha found herself disobeying Mother’s orders and voicing the question foremost in her mind. “Does your angel have a name?”

“She said that it was Samara, which is Hebrew for ‘under God’s rule.’” Natalie paused as if listening to someone, then smiled. “She says you’re afraid but you shouldn’t be.” Her eyebrows knitted together as if trying to listen to something that confused her. “
Lau-damus Domin
ium,”
she said. “Did I get it right? She said if I told you that you’d stop worrying.”

Sister Agatha dropped down into her chair. No angel that had fallen into darkness could praise God. The words
laudamus Domin
ium
meant “we praise God,” meaning the angel with Natalie was one of the heavenly host. But skepticism was part of her nature, and it was impossible for her not to see the other side of the argument. Natalie’s uncle was a priest and it was very possible Natalie had heard the name and the phrase from him.

A knock on their door diverted her thoughts. “Go have some fun,” Sister Agatha told Natalie as she stood.

Sister de Lourdes left with Natalie and Pax, and Sister Agatha opened the door and invited Sheriff Green inside. “Come in,” she said, her voice strained.

“Everything okay here?” he asked, picking up on her tension.

She nodded. “We’re in the midst of a financial crisis, that’s all. Anything new on the case?”

“We’re still talking to people, and running fingerprints found on the vehicle and in the house. The perp may have left a handprint on Jessica’s windshield but it’s too smeared to get any usable fingerprints—just a man-sized outline. I’m also checking on known DWI offenders to see if any of them owns or has access to a tan truck. The night of the accident, Jessica’s boss, Joseph Carlisle, called her. That was him we heard on the answering machine. He apparently was pretty upset when he found out Jessica was moonlighting. I spoke to him and the office staff over at Grayson Construction, where Jessica works as an accounts receivable and payable clerk, but so far I’ve turned up nothing that’ll help me close the case. Which brings me to the reason why I’m here. I need you to do something for me.”

“Name it.”

“Do you think you can get her to open up? My detectives have spoken to some of Natalie’s teachers, and they’ve all commented on how observant she is. I’m willing to bet that the kid saw more than she realizes the night of the accident.”

Tom paused, then continued slowly. “The thing is, I’m afraid to question her myself again this soon. If I push her hard I’ll become the bad guy, too, and she’ll lock up on me. Kids do that—I know, I have an eight-year-old of my own.”

“I’ll see if she gives me an opening, but if I press her, I won’t get anywhere, either.”

“Start as soon as you can. Remember that it won’t be long before people start guessing she’s here.” He looked around. “Speaking of Natalie, where is she?”

“She’s in the back garden with Pax and Sister de Lourdes.”

“I thought that she couldn’t go into any cloistered area.”

“Ordinarily, no, but Natalie’s an innocent and the vow of charity takes precedence over all the others.” She paused and exhaled softly. “Before Vatican II anyone who admitted even a doctor into the enclosure without permission from the bishop could be excommunicated. But things are different now. Granted, until very recently Mother still preferred to follow the tradition of asking the bishop. But last year our new bishop told Reverend Mother that she should make those decisions herself, since she’s the one best qualified to judge the circumstances.”

Tom stood. “One last thing. What had you so upset when I came in?”

“I wasn’t upset,” she said, smiling. Tom had an amazing radar. He could always tell when someone was holding out on him. But she didn’t want to discuss Natalie’s angel with him right now. “A small problem took me by surprise, that’s all.”

Reverend Mother leaned back in her chair. Telling her about the sheriff’s request had been easy, but Sister Agatha had also been obligated to tell her what had happened with Natalie. “You made a mistake by asking her about the angel, child. Your motives were good so I’ll forgive you. But I have no idea what to make of what she said.”

“I’ve been trying to figure it out myself, Mother. Truth is, Natalie could have found the name Samara in a baby book, or on the Internet, or maybe she heard Father mention it. But I checked all our references and there’s no record of an angel by that name. The phrase
laudamus Domino
isn’t uncommon and Father has a Latin-English dictionary in his computer, so it’s possible she found it there.”

Reverend Mother steepled her fingers, staring thoughtfully past them at an indeterminate spot across the room. “Whether or not Natalie really sees an angel is not for us to decide. We have to let that go for now. But let’s do our best to honor the sheriff’s request. As a former journalist, you’re the best person to try and unlock whatever secrets Natalie’s memory holds, so do whatever you have to do. If you succeed, it would be a blessing to everyone—Natalie, Father Ma-honey, and all of us here.”

Sister Agatha nodded. “I’ll do my best but, Mother, Natalie needs something to do while she’s here to keep her mind and body occupied. I’ve been told she’s quite a sculptress. Maybe we can persuade Sister Ignatius to let her help with the ceramic figures she makes for the Christmas bazaar.”

When Sister Agatha returned to the parlor, Natalie was in her room across the hall with a pencil and pad sketching Pax, and Sister de Lourdes was back at her desk.

Seeing her enter, Sister de Lourdes looked up, a worried expression on her face. “Will you take over now, Your Charity? I need to go help Sister Clothilde before Vespers,” she said.

Sister Agatha worked at the desk for a while and answered calls. Sometime later she glanced into the next room, and saw Natalie looking up at her. “Bored?” Sister Agatha asked.

Natalie nodded. “Kind of.”

“You prefer sculpting over sketching, don’t you?” Seeing the girl nod, Sister Agatha continued. “You do wonderful work. I’ve seen the beautiful angel sculpture you made for Father Mahoney.”

Natalie smiled. “That was Uncle Rick’s birthday present.” Then she wrinkled her nose, and added, “But angels don’t look like that, you know.”

“They don’t?” If Tom and Reverend Mother wanted her to build a rapport with Natalie, she would have to allow the girl to speak freely.

“No—well, it’s not like I’ve seen them
all.
But mine doesn’t have wings. I asked her about that, and she said that she could get some if I wanted, but she really didn’t need them.”

Sister Agatha smiled at the girl. “Could be she’s allergic to feathers.”

Natalie laughed. “I didn’t think of that. Do you think anyone sneezes in heaven?”

“I guess I’ll find out when I get there someday,” Sister Agatha said, then added, “Natalie, how would you feel about making some ceramic angels to help with our fund-raising?”

The smile that suddenly covered Natalie’s face was like the sun breaking though the clouds after a storm. “I’ll take that as a yes,” Sister Agatha said, chuckling. “Come on. Let me show you our crafts room. Sister Ignatius normally does all our artwork, but she’s probably not there right now, so we won’t be bothering her.”

Sister Agatha led the way down the corridor, mindful of the time. The bells would ring for Vespers soon, so this would have to be a short outing.

“Sister, do you think I can go see my mom soon?” Natalie whispered, mindful of how quiet it was around them.

“I’m not sure,” Sister Agatha answered honestly, also at a whisper.

“I miss her,” she said.

“I know you do,” Sister Agatha said gently.

The crafts room door was open just a few inches, and as they approached they could hear the low hum of the potter’s wheel. A moment later they entered and Sister Agatha saw Sister Ignatius shaping a bowl.

Looking up, Sister Ignatius smiled at Natalie then at Sister Agatha. “I saw Reverend Mother in the corridor and she told me that you two might pay me a visit.”

“I didn’t realize that you’d be working here this late.”

“Everyone’s doing their best to raise money and I know these bowls sell well, so I thought I’d give them to Sister Bernarda to take to our booth at the Harvest Festival.”

While Natalie watched in fascination, Sister Ignatius finished the bowl she’d been working on, switched off the electrically powered wheel, then lifted the bowl carefully, placing it on a tray by the counter.

Seeing the unworked clay that had been left beside the wheel in a plastic bowl, Natalie looked up at Sister Ignatius. “May I use this?” When Sister Ignatius nodded, Natalie began molding the brown lump.

Minutes ticked by as they watched the girl shape the clay, the soft mass taking form under her confident hands. “You have a gift,” Sister Ignatius whispered.

Natalie didn’t reply. Once she’d begun to work, it was as if she’d shut everything else from her mind.