Niagara Falls- Sunday
Jul. 24th, 2022 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fates_jayeToo early this morning, Jaye was picking Eric up for a field trip to the train station. Sadly Jaye brought the woman's coat to give back to her, so if they happened not to find her, she was kind of okay with that.
"So, do you do this thing a lot?" Eric asked as they made their way through the station. "Go out of your way to help people you don't even know?"
"Um. I wouldn't say a lot." Only when she was forced to. Which felt like a lot.
"Me either. Heidi wouldn’t allow it. She always said I shouldn’t open my mouth to strangers."
"Ironic " Jaye had to say. "You know. Considering."
She looked over at him to see that he was watching a loving young couple, probably on their own honeymoon, excited to be looking at maps.
"You miss her?" Jaye guessed.
Eric sighed. "I don't know."
It was weird sometimes, liking a guy who was still married. "You gotta miss your life a little."
"Guess I’m still trying to figure out where that is."
As if on cue, a voice came through the PA system. "Train to Patterson, New Jersey. With stops at Hoboken, West Orange and Trenton, departing, platform 9."
Jaye and Eric both pretended not to hear that and hurried to the line for the ticket window.
Five minutes later, Eric sighed, "That went well."
"We’re like the worst detectives ever," Jaye complained. I don’t know what we expected him to tell us."
"Coulda told you about the man in black."
Jaye and Eric both turned at that, seeing a tall, older custodian pushing a mop nearby.
"What?" Jaye asked.
"Let’s just say you two ain’t the first been sniffing around here looking for that little girl."
She hadn't been a little girl, but whatever. "You remember her-"
"Oh, sure. Sweet little thing. Slept on that bench right there three nights in a row," the custodian said. "I kinda watched over her a little. Much as I could. Until he showed up then she scurried out of here like a rat come daytime."
"The man," Eric began. "Do you remember what he looked like?
"Strange looking sort. Wearing all black. Looked you right in the eye like he took a class in it. I remember thinking to myself, if Johnny Cash had been an Irishman, his music woulda been more lilting. Whoever he was, I hope you find her before he does," the custodian said, and moved off a-mopping like he wasn't taking follow up questions.
*****
When Jaye was at home, she worked. Or, "worked." Like today, after the train station failure, she was mostly on the phone with Eric. Which she would love under normal circumstances, but not this one. "I don’t think there is a next move," she said. "Our moves are done. I mean, what more could we possibly do?"
"Maybe this man in black is the one we should be trying to find," Eric suggested.
"I just think it’d be a little like looking for an Irish Johnny Cash in... a... haystack."
"Excuse me."
Jaye looked up from where she'd been leaning on the counter to see an Irish Johnny Cash talking to her.
"Jaye?" Eric asked.
"Call you back," she said, hanging up. "May I help you?"
He was very intimidating, and holding a stack of flyers. "I see you have several public notices in your window. I wonder if you might add this one?"
He held up the flyer, which was a large black and white photo of the woman living in the Barrel's barrel, with "MISSING" underneath it. Jaye gaped at it, and looked up at him.
"I'd be so grateful," the man said.
*****
She asked for one of the flyers to keep and brought it with her to the bar after work. As much as she didn't want to be doing this, Eric apparently did, and Jaye was kind of a muse-driven sucker like that.
"Katrina," Eric read. "That’s her name."
"No last name. She’s a prostitute. And he’s her pimp. Her goth pimp. She’s trying to leave the lifestyle and he won’t let her," Jaye explained. And no shade! She had a lot of experience hanging out at a brothel for a cute guy. (Miho, Becky, what up.)
Eric picked up the phone and started dialing. "I'm calling Johnny." A second later someone picked up. "Hello. Uh, extension 231, please. Oh. Room 231." He hung up.
"Hillcrest Hotel. 231 is a room number," he reported.
"At least he’s not living in a barrel," Jaye said, and as he picked up the phone again, asked, "Who're you calling now?"
"Hi, me again," he said into the phone. "Yeah, cat stepped on the phone. Um, can you tell me if the room next to 231 is available?"
*****
Jaye chauffeured them to the Hillcrest Hotel, the look of which was not dissuading Jaye of her pimp theory. They checked in, got their room, shutting the door as quietly as possible, with Jaye rushing to the wall separating them from Johnny Cash's room.
"I don’t hear anything," she hissed. "Do you hear anything? What if we’re too late? What if he’s already beat her to death with a bag of oranges for withholding trick money?"
"If she had any trick money, I don’t think she’d be living in a barrel," Eric pointed out. "I know I wouldn’t...
"Yes, but maybe she’s just a lazy whore. That happens, right? They can’t all have hearts of gold and good work ethics. And, come on, this place does have a certain pay by the hour vibe," she told him.
"It’s just a transient hotel for people who aren’t sure whether they’re coming or going," he told her. "People that need hot plates and kitchenettes and all the other trappings of creative nonpermanence."
"You sound like a brochure."
"Here." He handed her a glass that he'd found, keeping one for himself, and they both pressed them against the wall to their ears to listen.
"Are you getting anything on yours?" Jaye asked.
"Nothing yet. Maybe we need a new frequency."
They moved their glasses to new spots, closer to each other, and listened.
"You do realize, don’t you, that nonpermanence doesn’t have trappings?" Jaye asked after a moment. "That’s what makes it non-permanent. I mean to say that something transitory and totally fleeting could trap you…"
"Something just passing through town, for instance," he agreed.
"Right," she agreed. "Something transitional...."
Eric moved his glass- and himself- closer. Like, really close. A close Jaye was completely fine with, and maybe she had to move her glass- and herself- closer for hearing reasons.
"Or someone…"
Jaye really, really thought that if something was going to happen, it would have been exactly then. And then from the other side of the wall, a woman said, "Stop! I can’t do this! Please, please just let me go!"
Moment ruined.
The two dropped their glasses and ran out into the hall. Eric tried the door to the next room, but it was locked.
They could hear the woman say, "I won’t go back! I can’t! Why can’t you leave me alone?"
Eric turned his shoulder to the door, and a moment later he busted the door open. Inside, the woman- Katrina- was sitting on the edge of the bed, red-faced and crying, with Johnny Cash standing over her. Eric plowed inside, slamming the man against the wall, then turned him to grab him by the throat. "She said leave her alone!"
"Don’t hurt him!" Katrina yelled, jumping up. "He’s a priest!"
Startled, Eric backed away and dropped his hand, and yep. Yep, that was definitely a clerical collar there. "You’re a priest?" Eric croaked.
Katrina rushed to the priest's side to make sure he was okay. "Father Scofield…"
"Oh, you’re going to hell," Jaye told Eric, eyes wide.
"Father, as in, ‘Father forgive me’?" Eric tried.
Father Scofield rubbed his throat. "I’m not feeling very forgiving at the moment, you jackass."
"I’m so sorry. I thought you were... not a priest."
"I’m not sure I’m ready to apologize," Jaye said, sticking her hands on her hips. "What was all that ‘Leave me alone’ screaming about? And you said 'jackass.'”
Katrina reached into her pockets and threw a wad of cash at Jaye and Eric. "Here. Here. Take it. It’s all I have. It was just a turkey club for the love of God. You don’t have to hunt a person down."
Father Scofield stared at her. "You stole food?"
Katrina shrugged. "I’m not proud?"
Father Scofield pulled out his wallet. "How much was the club?"
"It’s not about sandwich money," Eric said, as Jaye quietly pocketed the cash. "We’re trying to help her."
"Yeah, missionary man. And where do you get off browbeating a hooker!" Jaye demanded. "Jesus was nice to prostitutes."
Father Scofield gaped. "Sister Katrina isn’t a prostitute."
Jaye and Eric glanced at each other. "Now I'm going to hell," she said, like she wasn't before.
"She’s a nun? You’re a nun?" Eric asked.
"Not anymore," Katrina said firmly. "I’m not going back there. I can’t. I can’t…"
"Back where?" Jaye asked.
"The convent."
"Why not?" Jaye asked, and then turned to Father Scofield and demanded, "Did you Agnes-of-God her? I bet you did. I bet you Agnes-ofGoded all over her. Shame on you!"
"Would you shut up?" Father Scofield asked, clearly exasperated.
"He didn't Agnes-of-God me," Katrina said.
"Everyone’s very worried, sister," Father Scofield told her. "After twelve years, you don’t just up and leave without explanation. What happened?"
"It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back."
"Well, you can’t stay here-"
"Why the hell not?" Eric asked, weirdly worked up. "You can’t force her to go. She’s standing there telling you she’s not coming back. Now to me, that means she’s not coming back. So if the good sister wants to move on with her life, then I suggest you stand aside and let her move on."
Everyone looked a little surprised by that, including Eric. So Jaye said helpfully, "Amen."
*****
Eric was forceful enough in his argument- and the earlier throat-grabbing- that they left the hotel with Katrina, bringing her back to the Barrel because there was nowhere else to take her. Since she'd had the side of cheese before, they got her a giant bowl of cheddar chili fries, with Katrina's little wind-up penguin walking over the table and making Jaye nervous.
"Did they make you pray for food at the convent?" Jaye wondered.
"Food was plentiful. Sister Suzanne took cuisines of the Americas," Katrina said, and went silent.
"Maybe now’s a good time to come up with a plan," Eric whispered to Jaye.
"So was Sister Suzanne mean?" Jaye guessed.
"She’s a lovely person."
"I always picture nuns being mean."
"I do, too," Eric admitted, smiling a little. "And I don’t know why."
"It’s probably because-" She caught herself, and looked to Katrina. "Although, you seem nice. Did the mean nuns pick on you?"
"No. Nobody picked on me. It’s a sisterhood," Katrina said. "We all took the same vows. I loved the convent. We grew alfalfa in the fields."
And because of course, the penguin said, "Bring her back to him."
"We tried the padre, it didn't work," Jaye hissed to it.
"What?" Eric asked.
Jaye ignored that, and asked Katrina, "If you’re so happy with the sisters in the field, why’d you leave?"
"It was the cheese. The cheese was my undoing," Katrina said, and got very serious. "This is the miracle of life melted over these chilli fries. A bacterial flirtation with enzymes. The commingling of friendly microorganisms giving birth to curds and whey… 'and from dust He created the universe.'"
"The dairy board must love you," Jaye said. .
"The mirco-organisms in this cheese tell me God exists," Katrina said, gesturing to herself. "This sack of meat that holds a soul tells me God exists. God himself, however, hasn’t told me anything. Not really. Not definitively. And certainly not out loud."
"You don’t really want the out loud part, do you? I mean, that’s gotta be upsetting," Jaye said. "I’m sure of it."
"Not as upsetting as doubt. It’s a sin to live in His house when doubt lives in your heart. And I know the exact moment it moved in. I was in the kitchen nibbling on the fresh Pecorino Sister Louise brought back from Italy and I thought: what if it’s just cheese? What if I’m just cheese? What if this sack of meat is only a bacterial flirtation and my soul is just a co-mingling of friendly micro-organisms?"
"But God’s your thing," Jaye insisted. "You grew alfalfa and took a vow."
"How can I commit my life to something I’m not sure is real?" Katrina asked.
"Bring her back to him," said the penguin.
"To who?" Jaye asked.
"To me. He has to be real to me. He has to show me. Otherwise, I’m just praising the Word of a phantom bully in the sky," Katrina said.
"Bring her back to Him."
"Oh," Jaye said, getting it. "Him. With a big H."
Eric frowned at her. "Who did you think we were talking about?"
*****
When Jaye knocked on the door to room 231 at the hotel, she at least had the grace to look embarrassed when Father Scofield answered it.
"She has to go back," she greeted him. "I know that guy I was with said whatever but I really think this is best and something tells me you do, too."
"Gee, I don’t know," Father Scofield deadpanned. "Isn’t your little friend gonna beat me up?"
"Yeah, he got excited there for a second, didn’t he? But he doesn’t have to know," she promised, and then noticed that he'd gone back to packing his suitcase. "You’re not leaving without her? You’re not leaving her with me?"
"I’m not a parole officer. I can’t drag her back kicking and screaming. Doesn’t look good for the church."
"But she wants to go. She does. She’s just had too much cheese," Jaye pleaded. "See, it’s all about doubt. And we gotta squash that doubt. Would it help if she got re-baptized?"
"It’s holy water, not magic water," he said.
"What’s the difference?" Seemed the same to Jaye.
"One’s faith, the other’s fantasy. And you’re telling me Sister Katrina has lost her faith."
"Not lost. Just misplaced," Jaye tried.
"Well, I can’t find it for her," he said, closing his suitcase. Either he'd been almost done, or priests didn't have a lot of stuff.
Jaye, logically, went and yanked it away from him. "I can. I’ll take that challenge." Did she sound desperate? "Gimme 24 hours and I’ll have her singing sweet Jesus all the doo-dah day long. Then you can bring her back to Him, all three Hims. Jesus, God and the other one."
*****
It was easy enough to get Katrina away from Eric. Jaye offered to let her stay in the trailer as opposed to in the back of a bar that was barely big enough for him, and on the way, she could swing by her parents' house. Because why have a theology major brother if you couldn't use him at times like this.
"God has to talk to people," Aaron said, rifling through the fridge for leftovers. "How else would Mankind know God’s will?"
"That’s a very good point. This is helping. Say more," Jaye said enthusiastically, and told Katrina, "You should listen closely. He’s got a theology degree. Several actually." She paused, and asked Aaron, "How many do you need?"
Aaron picked up a pig-headed salt shaker that also made Jaye nervous, salted his food, and said, "One more. Leave me alone.But just ‘cause a scripture says God’s talking, doesn’t mean he’s talk-talkin’. People tend to take license with that detail. It’s not always gonna be…" He waved the salt shaker at Jaye and made a voice to say, "Helloooooo, Jaye…"
"Stop that!" Jaye said, snatching the salt shaker from him and putting it safely away. Facing the back of a cabinet. A closed cabinet.
Aaron continued. "Some folks believe Early Man’s gut instincts was God telling our ancestors to fight, flee or funhave. Although, several prominent serial killers claim God gave them very specific instructions."
"This isn’t helping anymore," Katrina told Jaye, plaintively.
Jaye punched Aaron in the shoulder. "Why’d you go to the serial killer place?"
She'd been hoping to get out before her parents got home, but they picked that moment to show up with grocery bags, looking all happy to see her. "Jaye-bird!" Darren greeted. "Wat a nice surprise."
"Tupperware is not an eating vessel," Karen said in a low voice to Aaron, and then smiled at Katrina. "Hello, I’m Karen Tyler."
"Hi. Sister Ka-- Katrina," she said quickly, fooling no one. "Just Katrina."
Everyone stared with a fake as hell smile on their face, unsure what to do. Darren finally broke the silence with, "You're a nun. That's fantastic."
"Ex-nun," Katrina said. "It’s just Katrina."
"That’s too bad. I had a cousin who was a nun, spoke five languages," Darren said. .
"You never told me she was a nun," Aaron said to Jaye.
"Ex," Katrina said again.
Karen pulled Jaye around to the other side of the island to speak to her quietly. "Sweetheart, is this about your ‘sode? Are you seeking counsel in the church?"
"No- Yes. Yes, it’s about my ‘sode," Jaye lied. "And the stress-issue. But thanks to God, I’m better every day. So you shouldn’t worry."
"That’s wonderful, darling," Karen smiled, and then added uncomfortably, "You’re aware nuns are Catholic."
*****
So now Jaye had a house guest. Trailer guest. She sat Katrina down at a table, where she stared at the brass monkey that sat with all of the other animals that Jaye had stolen over time, while Jaye got dinner together.
"I like your monkey," Katrina said.
"I stole it from my therapist’s office. Hungry?" Jaye asked, setting a platter of sliced cheese down in front of her.
Katrina blinked, then looked up at Jaye. "This is insulting to both of us."
"It’s a pre-made snack platter," Jaye said, but when Katrina didn't budge, she sighed and dumped it in the trash instead. "I had a whole thing I was gonna say. Got it out of a fondue cook book... still wanna hear it?
"I don’t need to. I know why God doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t talk to anyone," Katrina said, defeated. "He can’t."
"Sure He can, He just doesn’t wanna," Jaye said. She didn't know. Didn't care. Just wanted this over.
"No, He just doesn’t exist."
"Do you not believe in anything anymore?" Jaye wondered. "Or is it just G dash D?"
"Isn’t G dash D supposed to be my everything?" Katrina asked. "That’s what I used to believe and if I can’t believe that then there’s nothing to believe in."
And Jaye… decided to take a gamble. "Okay. Cone of silence."
Katrina nodded, curious.
Jaye took the leap. "I believe in something. Sort of. And it does talk to me and may actually be God, but has never said so specifically."
Katrina looked forward, interested. "What is it? What talks to you?"
Jaye glanced at all the animals arranged in one area of her trailer. "They do."
Katrina gave her just the most withering look. So withering that a nun should maybe be ashamed of it. "Go on, pull the other one. It plays Ave Maria."
"No, really," Jaye insisted. "They tell me to do things, and if I don’t, they sing and they keep me up all night and then eventually I do what they say. I don’t even know what they are. However, I do know they talk. Or something talks through them. Either way it’s not pleasant."
"That doesn’t sound like God. That sounds like the Devi," Katrina said slowlyl.
"It's not the Devil. I have it on good authority. But oh! Good! If you believe in the
Devil, you believe in God."
"There’s only one way to be sure it's not the Devil," Katrina said, eyeing the animals. "Cast it out."
Jaye was ready to protest, and then had to ask, "...Can we do that?"
[NFB, NFI, from Wonderfalls 1x03, Wound-Up Penguin.]
"So, do you do this thing a lot?" Eric asked as they made their way through the station. "Go out of your way to help people you don't even know?"
"Um. I wouldn't say a lot." Only when she was forced to. Which felt like a lot.
"Me either. Heidi wouldn’t allow it. She always said I shouldn’t open my mouth to strangers."
"Ironic " Jaye had to say. "You know. Considering."
She looked over at him to see that he was watching a loving young couple, probably on their own honeymoon, excited to be looking at maps.
"You miss her?" Jaye guessed.
Eric sighed. "I don't know."
It was weird sometimes, liking a guy who was still married. "You gotta miss your life a little."
"Guess I’m still trying to figure out where that is."
As if on cue, a voice came through the PA system. "Train to Patterson, New Jersey. With stops at Hoboken, West Orange and Trenton, departing, platform 9."
Jaye and Eric both pretended not to hear that and hurried to the line for the ticket window.
Five minutes later, Eric sighed, "That went well."
"We’re like the worst detectives ever," Jaye complained. I don’t know what we expected him to tell us."
"Coulda told you about the man in black."
Jaye and Eric both turned at that, seeing a tall, older custodian pushing a mop nearby.
"What?" Jaye asked.
"Let’s just say you two ain’t the first been sniffing around here looking for that little girl."
She hadn't been a little girl, but whatever. "You remember her-"
"Oh, sure. Sweet little thing. Slept on that bench right there three nights in a row," the custodian said. "I kinda watched over her a little. Much as I could. Until he showed up then she scurried out of here like a rat come daytime."
"The man," Eric began. "Do you remember what he looked like?
"Strange looking sort. Wearing all black. Looked you right in the eye like he took a class in it. I remember thinking to myself, if Johnny Cash had been an Irishman, his music woulda been more lilting. Whoever he was, I hope you find her before he does," the custodian said, and moved off a-mopping like he wasn't taking follow up questions.
*****
When Jaye was at home, she worked. Or, "worked." Like today, after the train station failure, she was mostly on the phone with Eric. Which she would love under normal circumstances, but not this one. "I don’t think there is a next move," she said. "Our moves are done. I mean, what more could we possibly do?"
"Maybe this man in black is the one we should be trying to find," Eric suggested.
"I just think it’d be a little like looking for an Irish Johnny Cash in... a... haystack."
"Excuse me."
Jaye looked up from where she'd been leaning on the counter to see an Irish Johnny Cash talking to her.
"Jaye?" Eric asked.
"Call you back," she said, hanging up. "May I help you?"
He was very intimidating, and holding a stack of flyers. "I see you have several public notices in your window. I wonder if you might add this one?"
He held up the flyer, which was a large black and white photo of the woman living in the Barrel's barrel, with "MISSING" underneath it. Jaye gaped at it, and looked up at him.
"I'd be so grateful," the man said.
*****
She asked for one of the flyers to keep and brought it with her to the bar after work. As much as she didn't want to be doing this, Eric apparently did, and Jaye was kind of a muse-driven sucker like that.
"Katrina," Eric read. "That’s her name."
"No last name. She’s a prostitute. And he’s her pimp. Her goth pimp. She’s trying to leave the lifestyle and he won’t let her," Jaye explained. And no shade! She had a lot of experience hanging out at a brothel for a cute guy. (Miho, Becky, what up.)
Eric picked up the phone and started dialing. "I'm calling Johnny." A second later someone picked up. "Hello. Uh, extension 231, please. Oh. Room 231." He hung up.
"Hillcrest Hotel. 231 is a room number," he reported.
"At least he’s not living in a barrel," Jaye said, and as he picked up the phone again, asked, "Who're you calling now?"
"Hi, me again," he said into the phone. "Yeah, cat stepped on the phone. Um, can you tell me if the room next to 231 is available?"
*****
Jaye chauffeured them to the Hillcrest Hotel, the look of which was not dissuading Jaye of her pimp theory. They checked in, got their room, shutting the door as quietly as possible, with Jaye rushing to the wall separating them from Johnny Cash's room.
"I don’t hear anything," she hissed. "Do you hear anything? What if we’re too late? What if he’s already beat her to death with a bag of oranges for withholding trick money?"
"If she had any trick money, I don’t think she’d be living in a barrel," Eric pointed out. "I know I wouldn’t...
"Yes, but maybe she’s just a lazy whore. That happens, right? They can’t all have hearts of gold and good work ethics. And, come on, this place does have a certain pay by the hour vibe," she told him.
"It’s just a transient hotel for people who aren’t sure whether they’re coming or going," he told her. "People that need hot plates and kitchenettes and all the other trappings of creative nonpermanence."
"You sound like a brochure."
"Here." He handed her a glass that he'd found, keeping one for himself, and they both pressed them against the wall to their ears to listen.
"Are you getting anything on yours?" Jaye asked.
"Nothing yet. Maybe we need a new frequency."
They moved their glasses to new spots, closer to each other, and listened.
"You do realize, don’t you, that nonpermanence doesn’t have trappings?" Jaye asked after a moment. "That’s what makes it non-permanent. I mean to say that something transitory and totally fleeting could trap you…"
"Something just passing through town, for instance," he agreed.
"Right," she agreed. "Something transitional...."
Eric moved his glass- and himself- closer. Like, really close. A close Jaye was completely fine with, and maybe she had to move her glass- and herself- closer for hearing reasons.
"Or someone…"
Jaye really, really thought that if something was going to happen, it would have been exactly then. And then from the other side of the wall, a woman said, "Stop! I can’t do this! Please, please just let me go!"
Moment ruined.
The two dropped their glasses and ran out into the hall. Eric tried the door to the next room, but it was locked.
They could hear the woman say, "I won’t go back! I can’t! Why can’t you leave me alone?"
Eric turned his shoulder to the door, and a moment later he busted the door open. Inside, the woman- Katrina- was sitting on the edge of the bed, red-faced and crying, with Johnny Cash standing over her. Eric plowed inside, slamming the man against the wall, then turned him to grab him by the throat. "She said leave her alone!"
"Don’t hurt him!" Katrina yelled, jumping up. "He’s a priest!"
Startled, Eric backed away and dropped his hand, and yep. Yep, that was definitely a clerical collar there. "You’re a priest?" Eric croaked.
Katrina rushed to the priest's side to make sure he was okay. "Father Scofield…"
"Oh, you’re going to hell," Jaye told Eric, eyes wide.
"Father, as in, ‘Father forgive me’?" Eric tried.
Father Scofield rubbed his throat. "I’m not feeling very forgiving at the moment, you jackass."
"I’m so sorry. I thought you were... not a priest."
"I’m not sure I’m ready to apologize," Jaye said, sticking her hands on her hips. "What was all that ‘Leave me alone’ screaming about? And you said 'jackass.'”
Katrina reached into her pockets and threw a wad of cash at Jaye and Eric. "Here. Here. Take it. It’s all I have. It was just a turkey club for the love of God. You don’t have to hunt a person down."
Father Scofield stared at her. "You stole food?"
Katrina shrugged. "I’m not proud?"
Father Scofield pulled out his wallet. "How much was the club?"
"It’s not about sandwich money," Eric said, as Jaye quietly pocketed the cash. "We’re trying to help her."
"Yeah, missionary man. And where do you get off browbeating a hooker!" Jaye demanded. "Jesus was nice to prostitutes."
Father Scofield gaped. "Sister Katrina isn’t a prostitute."
Jaye and Eric glanced at each other. "Now I'm going to hell," she said, like she wasn't before.
"She’s a nun? You’re a nun?" Eric asked.
"Not anymore," Katrina said firmly. "I’m not going back there. I can’t. I can’t…"
"Back where?" Jaye asked.
"The convent."
"Why not?" Jaye asked, and then turned to Father Scofield and demanded, "Did you Agnes-of-God her? I bet you did. I bet you Agnes-ofGoded all over her. Shame on you!"
"Would you shut up?" Father Scofield asked, clearly exasperated.
"He didn't Agnes-of-God me," Katrina said.
"Everyone’s very worried, sister," Father Scofield told her. "After twelve years, you don’t just up and leave without explanation. What happened?"
"It doesn’t matter. I’m not going back."
"Well, you can’t stay here-"
"Why the hell not?" Eric asked, weirdly worked up. "You can’t force her to go. She’s standing there telling you she’s not coming back. Now to me, that means she’s not coming back. So if the good sister wants to move on with her life, then I suggest you stand aside and let her move on."
Everyone looked a little surprised by that, including Eric. So Jaye said helpfully, "Amen."
*****
Eric was forceful enough in his argument- and the earlier throat-grabbing- that they left the hotel with Katrina, bringing her back to the Barrel because there was nowhere else to take her. Since she'd had the side of cheese before, they got her a giant bowl of cheddar chili fries, with Katrina's little wind-up penguin walking over the table and making Jaye nervous.
"Did they make you pray for food at the convent?" Jaye wondered.
"Food was plentiful. Sister Suzanne took cuisines of the Americas," Katrina said, and went silent.
"Maybe now’s a good time to come up with a plan," Eric whispered to Jaye.
"So was Sister Suzanne mean?" Jaye guessed.
"She’s a lovely person."
"I always picture nuns being mean."
"I do, too," Eric admitted, smiling a little. "And I don’t know why."
"It’s probably because-" She caught herself, and looked to Katrina. "Although, you seem nice. Did the mean nuns pick on you?"
"No. Nobody picked on me. It’s a sisterhood," Katrina said. "We all took the same vows. I loved the convent. We grew alfalfa in the fields."
And because of course, the penguin said, "Bring her back to him."
"We tried the padre, it didn't work," Jaye hissed to it.
"What?" Eric asked.
Jaye ignored that, and asked Katrina, "If you’re so happy with the sisters in the field, why’d you leave?"
"It was the cheese. The cheese was my undoing," Katrina said, and got very serious. "This is the miracle of life melted over these chilli fries. A bacterial flirtation with enzymes. The commingling of friendly microorganisms giving birth to curds and whey… 'and from dust He created the universe.'"
"The dairy board must love you," Jaye said. .
"The mirco-organisms in this cheese tell me God exists," Katrina said, gesturing to herself. "This sack of meat that holds a soul tells me God exists. God himself, however, hasn’t told me anything. Not really. Not definitively. And certainly not out loud."
"You don’t really want the out loud part, do you? I mean, that’s gotta be upsetting," Jaye said. "I’m sure of it."
"Not as upsetting as doubt. It’s a sin to live in His house when doubt lives in your heart. And I know the exact moment it moved in. I was in the kitchen nibbling on the fresh Pecorino Sister Louise brought back from Italy and I thought: what if it’s just cheese? What if I’m just cheese? What if this sack of meat is only a bacterial flirtation and my soul is just a co-mingling of friendly micro-organisms?"
"But God’s your thing," Jaye insisted. "You grew alfalfa and took a vow."
"How can I commit my life to something I’m not sure is real?" Katrina asked.
"Bring her back to him," said the penguin.
"To who?" Jaye asked.
"To me. He has to be real to me. He has to show me. Otherwise, I’m just praising the Word of a phantom bully in the sky," Katrina said.
"Bring her back to Him."
"Oh," Jaye said, getting it. "Him. With a big H."
Eric frowned at her. "Who did you think we were talking about?"
*****
When Jaye knocked on the door to room 231 at the hotel, she at least had the grace to look embarrassed when Father Scofield answered it.
"She has to go back," she greeted him. "I know that guy I was with said whatever but I really think this is best and something tells me you do, too."
"Gee, I don’t know," Father Scofield deadpanned. "Isn’t your little friend gonna beat me up?"
"Yeah, he got excited there for a second, didn’t he? But he doesn’t have to know," she promised, and then noticed that he'd gone back to packing his suitcase. "You’re not leaving without her? You’re not leaving her with me?"
"I’m not a parole officer. I can’t drag her back kicking and screaming. Doesn’t look good for the church."
"But she wants to go. She does. She’s just had too much cheese," Jaye pleaded. "See, it’s all about doubt. And we gotta squash that doubt. Would it help if she got re-baptized?"
"It’s holy water, not magic water," he said.
"What’s the difference?" Seemed the same to Jaye.
"One’s faith, the other’s fantasy. And you’re telling me Sister Katrina has lost her faith."
"Not lost. Just misplaced," Jaye tried.
"Well, I can’t find it for her," he said, closing his suitcase. Either he'd been almost done, or priests didn't have a lot of stuff.
Jaye, logically, went and yanked it away from him. "I can. I’ll take that challenge." Did she sound desperate? "Gimme 24 hours and I’ll have her singing sweet Jesus all the doo-dah day long. Then you can bring her back to Him, all three Hims. Jesus, God and the other one."
*****
It was easy enough to get Katrina away from Eric. Jaye offered to let her stay in the trailer as opposed to in the back of a bar that was barely big enough for him, and on the way, she could swing by her parents' house. Because why have a theology major brother if you couldn't use him at times like this.
"God has to talk to people," Aaron said, rifling through the fridge for leftovers. "How else would Mankind know God’s will?"
"That’s a very good point. This is helping. Say more," Jaye said enthusiastically, and told Katrina, "You should listen closely. He’s got a theology degree. Several actually." She paused, and asked Aaron, "How many do you need?"
Aaron picked up a pig-headed salt shaker that also made Jaye nervous, salted his food, and said, "One more. Leave me alone.But just ‘cause a scripture says God’s talking, doesn’t mean he’s talk-talkin’. People tend to take license with that detail. It’s not always gonna be…" He waved the salt shaker at Jaye and made a voice to say, "Helloooooo, Jaye…"
"Stop that!" Jaye said, snatching the salt shaker from him and putting it safely away. Facing the back of a cabinet. A closed cabinet.
Aaron continued. "Some folks believe Early Man’s gut instincts was God telling our ancestors to fight, flee or funhave. Although, several prominent serial killers claim God gave them very specific instructions."
"This isn’t helping anymore," Katrina told Jaye, plaintively.
Jaye punched Aaron in the shoulder. "Why’d you go to the serial killer place?"
She'd been hoping to get out before her parents got home, but they picked that moment to show up with grocery bags, looking all happy to see her. "Jaye-bird!" Darren greeted. "Wat a nice surprise."
"Tupperware is not an eating vessel," Karen said in a low voice to Aaron, and then smiled at Katrina. "Hello, I’m Karen Tyler."
"Hi. Sister Ka-- Katrina," she said quickly, fooling no one. "Just Katrina."
Everyone stared with a fake as hell smile on their face, unsure what to do. Darren finally broke the silence with, "You're a nun. That's fantastic."
"Ex-nun," Katrina said. "It’s just Katrina."
"That’s too bad. I had a cousin who was a nun, spoke five languages," Darren said. .
"You never told me she was a nun," Aaron said to Jaye.
"Ex," Katrina said again.
Karen pulled Jaye around to the other side of the island to speak to her quietly. "Sweetheart, is this about your ‘sode? Are you seeking counsel in the church?"
"No- Yes. Yes, it’s about my ‘sode," Jaye lied. "And the stress-issue. But thanks to God, I’m better every day. So you shouldn’t worry."
"That’s wonderful, darling," Karen smiled, and then added uncomfortably, "You’re aware nuns are Catholic."
*****
So now Jaye had a house guest. Trailer guest. She sat Katrina down at a table, where she stared at the brass monkey that sat with all of the other animals that Jaye had stolen over time, while Jaye got dinner together.
"I like your monkey," Katrina said.
"I stole it from my therapist’s office. Hungry?" Jaye asked, setting a platter of sliced cheese down in front of her.
Katrina blinked, then looked up at Jaye. "This is insulting to both of us."
"It’s a pre-made snack platter," Jaye said, but when Katrina didn't budge, she sighed and dumped it in the trash instead. "I had a whole thing I was gonna say. Got it out of a fondue cook book... still wanna hear it?
"I don’t need to. I know why God doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t talk to anyone," Katrina said, defeated. "He can’t."
"Sure He can, He just doesn’t wanna," Jaye said. She didn't know. Didn't care. Just wanted this over.
"No, He just doesn’t exist."
"Do you not believe in anything anymore?" Jaye wondered. "Or is it just G dash D?"
"Isn’t G dash D supposed to be my everything?" Katrina asked. "That’s what I used to believe and if I can’t believe that then there’s nothing to believe in."
And Jaye… decided to take a gamble. "Okay. Cone of silence."
Katrina nodded, curious.
Jaye took the leap. "I believe in something. Sort of. And it does talk to me and may actually be God, but has never said so specifically."
Katrina looked forward, interested. "What is it? What talks to you?"
Jaye glanced at all the animals arranged in one area of her trailer. "They do."
Katrina gave her just the most withering look. So withering that a nun should maybe be ashamed of it. "Go on, pull the other one. It plays Ave Maria."
"No, really," Jaye insisted. "They tell me to do things, and if I don’t, they sing and they keep me up all night and then eventually I do what they say. I don’t even know what they are. However, I do know they talk. Or something talks through them. Either way it’s not pleasant."
"That doesn’t sound like God. That sounds like the Devi," Katrina said slowlyl.
"It's not the Devil. I have it on good authority. But oh! Good! If you believe in the
Devil, you believe in God."
"There’s only one way to be sure it's not the Devil," Katrina said, eyeing the animals. "Cast it out."
Jaye was ready to protest, and then had to ask, "...Can we do that?"
[NFB, NFI, from Wonderfalls 1x03, Wound-Up Penguin.]
