Sammy Keyes and the Sisters of Mercy (23 page)

The minute he’s gone, I dig myself out of Bernice’s habit and duck out the side door. Then I race over to the NunMobile, insert the key, and let myself in. Just like that. I close the door behind me and lock it, and then look around. There’s light coming in from the streetlights, and there’s a little light on over the stove, but it’s pretty dark inside.

I decide to start by searching up front. I go to the driver’s seat and sit down, and it’s like being in the cockpit of
some luxury liner. There are switches on the armrest and levers all over the steering column, and there’s a funny little TV screen by the side window. I put the key in the ignition and twist it forward so the interior lights will come on, but that’s way too bright so I turn it back in a hurry. I put the key back in my pocket, then check all around the driver’s seat. No money, but I do find a flashlight.

I go over to the passenger seat and check the glove box and all around the seat with the flashlight, but I don’t find anything besides maps and papers.

The living room and dining room don’t seem to have anything in them, either, and I’m about to move on when I remember Marissa talking about all the storage compartments in her uncle’s motor home.

So I go into the dining room and start pulling apart the benches. Right away I find the laptop computer and a printer, and next to these is a brown accordion folder with a giant rubber band wrapped around it. I put the folder on the table and snap off the rubber band, and when I flash the light through the sections, it takes me a minute to figure out what I’ve found.

Mostly it’s stationery and matching envelopes. But it’s not Sisters of Mercy letterhead. It’s stationery for St. Paul the Apostle Parish Hall in Lowell, New Jersey, and Holy Angels’ Catholic Church in Haley, North Dakota, and St. William’s Catholic Church in Santa Lucia, New Mexico.

And I’m thinking about Father Mayhew and the glowing letters of recommendation in his Fundraiser file, when I notice that the very last compartment of the accordion folder is kind of bulging out. I look inside it and what do
I find? Six lockets, just like the one Bernie had entrusted to Father Mayhew.

So there’s no doubt about it—they’re the Sisters of Sin. But still, all I’ve got is blank stationery, some look-alike lockets, and a couple of carrot pieces that are fast becoming room temperature. I needed to find the money. Or the goblets and cross. I needed to find something
real
.

So I start snooping again, only this time I decide to start at the back of the bus. I open the door at the end of the hall, and what I see is a giant bed with a wild purple bedspread taking up most of the room. I check out the headboard, which has little cabinets in it, but there’s just hand lotion and Kleenex and some paperbacks in there. I check out the sideboards—same thing. Just normal stuff like clips and rollers and night cream. And I’m looking around thinking there’s no place to store anything because the bed’s taking up the whole room, when I think to look for drawers under the bed.

I flip up the bedspread and … no drawers. I run around to the other side and do the same thing. No drawers. And I’m just about to give up on the bed when something tells me to check under the mattress. I go to the foot of the bed, and when I pull up on the mattress, it flips up, and I find myself looking into this giant box.

I flash the light around inside and what I’ve discovered is the world’s biggest pirate’s chest. There’s no money, or even jewelry, but there’s gold. Lots of gold. There are gold statues of Mary and Jesus, of Jesus on the cross, of Mary praying. And I’m not talking figurines, I’m talking three-foot statues. There are dozens of plates and goblets, some
with jewels encrusted around them, some without. There’s silverware and
gold
ware, a couple of oil paintings mounted in thick gold frames, half a dozen ancient-looking Bibles, and over in one corner is a crystal chandelier.

This is not stuff you can go out and buy. It’s old, it’s gold, and there’s no doubt about it—it’s stolen. And tossed across a gold candelabrum like an old dish towel is Father Mayhew’s cross.

I untangle it and loop it around my neck. And I probably should’ve just left right then to call the police, but I knew the money had to be in the motor home, too, and if it wasn’t in the treasure chest, where was it?

I put the mattress down and started searching again. I checked the rest of the bedroom, the hall, and the bathroom and tried everything to see if it had a hidden compartment.

Finally, I was back at the kitchen. And that’s when I remembered that Sister Mary Margaret had stashed
her
cash in a cracker box.

So I went through all the cupboards, digging through cereal and crackers and cartons of oatmeal. And what do I find? Carbohydrates.

And I’m starting to think that money or no money, I’ve got the cross and I’ve got to get
out
of there, when I open a low cupboard near the sink, and there, looking right back at me is the dial of a safe. That stops me cold. And then I remember how Clarice had come to my rescue when I was looking for a trash can. So much for sisterly hospitality.

Now, there’s no way I’ve got time to figure out the
combination. No way. And even if I hadn’t found the treasure chest and the stationery, the fact that there’s a safe at all is proof enough for me. I mean, why would Bernice ask to use Father Mayhew’s safe when she had one of her own?

I decided that the quickest way to get the police there was to find Bernie’s cell phone and dial 911. Trouble is, I couldn’t
find
the thing. I looked all over the front part of the motor home and it was nowhere. And just as I’m deciding to forget the cell phone and find a phone at the church, I look out the window and what do I see? A herd of nuns charging across the lawn.

I click off the flashlight, but it’s too late. They’ve seen the light. Clarice and Abigail have their habits pulled up over their ankles, but Bernice isn’t wasting time with that—she’s coming at the NunMobile like a Brahma bull.

The first thing I think is I’m dead. D-e-a-d, dead. There’s no back window or door for me to sneak out, and since I’ve just been through every room in the place, I know there’s nowhere safe for me to hide. And watching Bernice coming at me, I decide there’s only one way out of the mess I’m in. I’ve got to
drive
my way out.

I’d never driven a car before. Not even one of those little bumper cars at the fair. I’d seen Lady Lana drive and I’d watched the SMAT bus driver on my way across town, but I’d never tried it myself. So when I go up to the driver’s seat and sit down, all I know is I’ve got to turn the key and push the gas. Other than that I’m like a turkey on a tractor.

So I’m flapping around, cranking the ignition, whispering,
“God-oh-God, God-oh-God,” when I hear Bernice rattle the door and yell, “Get me a key!” to the others.

Now, I can’t sit down
and
reach the pedal
and
see what I’m doing. So I kind of stand on one leg while the other one stretches out to the gas pedal. All of a sudden,
vroom!
The NunMobile comes to life. I look over my shoulder at Bernice slapping at the window yelling, “Get away from there! Get
away
from there!” but I just pull the shift lever down to
DRIVE
and stomp on the gas.

And I don’t go anywhere. The engine goes
Vroom!
but the NunMobile stays put. And I know any second Bernice is going to come flying through the door and turn me into turkey pâté, when I see the word
BRAKE
lit up in red on the dash.

I look around fast, and there it is, under the dash—the emergency brake. I yank the handle and
snap
, it releases the brake, and all of a sudden I’m moving.

And I mean
moving
. I hear Bernice scream, I hear this awful clanging noise, and when I look in the side mirror I realize that I’ve yanked the awning right off the grass and I’m dragging it along with me.

I can see Clarice and Abigail spinning around on the curb not knowing what to do, but I don’t see Bernice. And as I’m bouncing down the street trying to keep from crashing, she appears on this tiny TV screen right next to me.

Well I yelp. I mean, even on a tiny TV, Bernice looks
big
. And I’m banging and clanging down the street trying to figure out where Bernice is and why she’s on this little television, when I realize that what I’m seeing is a video
of the back end of the motor home and Bernice is hanging onto the ladder, screaming her head off.

All I can think is, I’ve got to get her
off
of there. So I stomp on the brake, and then right away I punch the gas. She goes slamming into the ladder and then whips back, but she’s still holding on. I try it a few more times, but she doesn’t let go, she just keeps whipping back and forth, screaming at the top of her lungs.

Now, I didn’t really have a destination in mind when I decided to hijack the NunMobile. I just knew that I had to get
out
of there. But turning onto Miller Street with cars swerving and horns honking while Attila the Nun’s back there yelling at the top of her lungs, I know exactly where I’ve got to go.

I lay on the horn and cut across traffic, and believe me, people aren’t arguing with me. They just move out of my way. I don’t even wait for the light to turn green. I just keep on the horn and turn through traffic onto Cook Street. And I’m feeling like I’m getting the hang of this driving stuff, so I push the gas a little harder, and when I get to the police station driveway I turn and bounce straight in.

But as I’m bouncing in, a police car’s bouncing out. And when they see me coming, they squeal to a stop, only I kind of panic, and instead of slamming on the brake, I stomp on the gas.

The NunMobile goes smashing head-on into the police car, and when I finally get my foot
off
the gas and the gearshift into
PARK
, the police car’s pushed back a ways and the motor home’s pretty much mangled up around it.

I’m looking out the windshield at what I’ve done, and
who squeezes his big ol’ angry body out of the squad car? My good buddy, Officer Borsch.

I cover my face and say, “Oh, no!” and I’m expecting him to blow his top and start calling me names, but what does he do? He stands there staring up at me, and then starts
laughing
. No kidding. And pretty soon he’s laughing so hard he’s wiping tears from his eyes saying, “I should’ve known! I just should’ve known!”

Now I’ve got a hysterical cop in front of me and a crazed nun in back of me, and given the choice I’ll take the cop. So before Bernice can make it to the driver’s door, I scramble out the side door and over to Officer Borsch. Bernice comes staggering from around the back, looking like a penguin that’s been spun through the wash. She gasps, “Arrest her! Arrest that girl! She stole our vehicle! She—” Then she sees how munched the front end of her NunMobile is and cries, “She
totaled
it!”

I try to stay calm and I say to Officer Borsch, “She’s the one who’s been stealing things from the church!” I hold up the cross from around my neck. “Look! I found Father Mayhew’s cross, and there are all
kinds
of gold goblets in there. She’s got a whole treasure chest in this compartment under her bed. And there’s a
safe
in the kitchen, too. The fundraising money is in it, it’s got to be!”

Officer Borsch is still laughing a little, but when Bernice gets in his face and screams, “Arrest her!” Officer Borsch whips his baton out and says, “Back off, Sister!” and let me tell you, he’s not laughing anymore.

And I don’t know if I was experiencing a divine intervention or what, but Officer Borsch looks straight at her
and says, “This girl may be in trouble for driving your vehicle, but I’ve known her long enough to know that if she says you stole something, there’s a good chance you did.” He looks at me. “Which bed’s the stuff under?”

I say, “The bedroom in the back,” but Bernice yells, “Well, if it’s there, she
put
it there!”

Officer Borsch turns on her and says, “Just stand there and be quiet! You’ll get your chance in a minute.” He backs up and reaches into the squad car, and while he’s radioing for backup, Bernice turns around and gets into the NunMobile.

I don’t know what she was thinking. The key was still in the ignition and she got the engine to fire up, but when she threw it in reverse, that NunMobile wasn’t about to let go of the police car. She dragged it down the driveway a few yards, but we’re in a police station driveway, for crying out loud, so pretty soon the whole mess is surrounded by men with guns.

Bernice didn’t come out kicking and screaming. She stepped out of the motor home, put her hands behind her back, and waited. Like she’d done this before.

Officer Borsch sent some officers over to St. Mary’s to pick up Clarice and Abigail, and I watched while they hauled Bernie away. And I have to admit I felt kind of sad. Maybe it was easier to see her arrested than someone who’d been at St. Mary’s a long time, but I liked Bernie. Better than Josephine or Phil, or even Mary Margaret. For a nun she was funny. Of course, she probably wasn’t a nun. She was probably just a crook. A funny crook, but still, a crook.

After they impound the NunMobile, Officer Borsch
comes up behind me and says, “I’m heading over to St. Mary’s. Do you want a lift back?”

Now it’s my instinct to say No, thanks, but then I realize that Grams and Hudson have no idea where I am, so I say, “Sure.”

We go back to the police parking lot, where he gets in another vehicle and swings the passenger door open for me. After I buckle up he starts the car and says, “That was a brand-new patrol car, you know.”

I look down at my hands. “I’m sorry. I … I’ve never driven before.”

He gives me half a scowl. “Well, don’t try it again any time soon, okay? You’re terrible at it.”

I look at him, and honest, I can’t help it. I start busting up, because for the first time since I’ve met him I have to admit, Officer Borsch is right.

Completely right.