Page 5

SISI

AGE FIFTEEN

T ying the garland at the end, I use some of the flowers to hide the uneven formation. Turning to Claudia, I lower it over her head, watching with satisfaction as a smile spreads over her face. Her hands go up and she starts feeling for the flowers.

"Wow," she breathes out, her eyes wide in wonder.

"You like it?"

"Like? I love it! Thank you, Aunt Sisi!" She lunges at me, almost throwing me off balance. I open my arms to return her hug.

"See, I'm good at some things too," I add a little drily, and Claudia chuckles.

It's a running joke among Claudia, Lina and I that I never do anything right. Granted, I rarely put in the effort, but they are right to laugh at me when I fail at even the most basic things.

Why, recently I'd been assigned to my first baking duty. Before, I'd merely assisted the older Sisters, so it hadn't been too hard. This time, however, I'd been the only one in charge of making the Sunday pie, and by mistake I'd added salt instead of sugar.

How is it my fault when they looked the same? Even the containers were the same color.

But that small mistake had gotten me in a lot of trouble.

No one could eat the pie, and so Mother Superior had taken it upon herself to make sure I learned which is sugar and which is salt—by cleaning and organizing the entire kitchen.

Part of my punishment had also been that I'd been prohibited from eating anything until the kitchen was sparkly clean.

I was lucky Lina had sneaked me some food, since that kitchen is enormous. I would have died of starvation before I was done cleaning it.

"You're good to me," she giggles, leaving my arms to go pick some more flowers.

I shift position, folding my legs under me, and I turn my attention back to my current punishment, picking up the hefty book and opening it on my lap.

This one isn't as bad as the kitchen one, but I still have to choose a passage from the Old Testament and write an entire essay on it. I guess that's what I get for accidentally falling asleep in class.

But really, how am I supposed to pay attention when everything is just so…

uninteresting? I've been hearing the same stories of God creating the world, or Jesus sacrificing himself for our sakes, since I was a little girl.

I probably know some passages by heart if I concentrate hard enough.

It's always the same discussion about the same texts. Why would I be intrigued by that?

I know there's more to learn than the same old tales. One time, I even managed to sneak into the library and I'd seen so many interesting texts… Still on the subject of God and religion, but they were exquisitely different from anything I'd read or heard before.

I'd managed to steal a copy of the Confessions of St Augustine, and I stashed that in my hiding place at the mausoleum. I've been reading it every chance I got, and while the moral of the story is that a religious life is better than a sinful one, I'd been able to read between the lines.

Life outside.

Sinful, immoral, seductive. It showed how not to behave, yet it only made me want to experience it even more. He'd even talked about carnal relations…

A blush envelops my entire face as I remember eating those words straight off the page, my curiosity about such an act only increasing the more secretive St Augustine was in his narration.

Why mention it at all if you're going to mince your words? For all his descriptions of his immoral existence before the church, I still don't know exactly what the act entails.

I sigh, the direction of my thoughts taking me further and further away from my assignment. Considering I have to turn it in tomorrow, I need to get my head in the game.

Hands to my temples, I give them a quick rub, squeezing my eyes shut and willing myself to focus.

"Claudia, don't go too far!" I call out to her when I see her running in the opposite direction.

Her shoulders slump when she hears my voice, and dejected, she comes back.

"You know your mother counts on me to make sure you're safe," I add as I pat her small back.

She gives me a tremulous smile and nods, taking a seat next to me and focusing on the flowers she'd already picked. She starts playing with them, trying to build another garland.

By chance, as she shifts positions and tries to get more comfortable, I get a closer look at her bare legs.

I frown as I survey a mass of brown and yellow bruises stretching from her shin to her knee.

"Claudia," I turn to her, "what happened?" I point to her bruises and her eyes widen. She folds her uniform over her legs, obstructing my view.

"Nothing," she mutters under her breath. "I fell."

"You fell? When? Does your mother know?" The words tumble out of my mouth, even though I can bet Lina doesn't know.

She's so protective of Claudia that if she were aware of those bruises on her daughter's skin, she would have never let her hear the end of it—likely she wouldn't be allowed to play anymore either.

Lina is a little too much sometimes when it comes to Claudia's safety, but I can understand and appreciate her attention.

How I wish someone cared for me like that too…

"No," she lowers her face slightly, before coming closer to me. "Please don't tell her. You know how she's going to react," she says as she pleads with me with her big eyes.

I'm torn. On the one hand, I owe it to Lina to tell her, on the other, I don't want Claudia to lose her trust in me.

"Tell me what happened," I urge her, and she starts recounting how she'd tripped and fallen on the hard floor of the classroom. It had been only an accident, and she doesn't want Lina to make a big deal out of it.

"You're not lying to me, are you?" I narrow my eyes at her, and she promptly shakes her head. "If… someone was doing this to you, you'd tell me right?" I add for good measure, knowing just how easy it is to get picked on.

I'd sported my fair share of bruises growing up, and things had only changed in the last few years when I'd simply refused to play the bullies' game.

Instead of showing them fear like I'd done in the past, I didn't bother with them at all.

My indifference seems to have worked since after some time they simply stopped bothering with me, unable to coax a response out of me.

After all, that brand of evil feeds on fear, shame and self-loathing — and I'd had buckets of all three.

"Nothing happened, Aunt Sisi," she reiterates, "I just tripped."

I hold her gaze a bit longer, wanting to make sure she's saying the truth.

"Fine," I sigh, "you can keep playing, but don't go out of my sight, okay?"

She readily agrees, taking off once more.

Mildly satisfied with her answers but still a little suspicious, I banish all thoughts from my head and start focusing on my assignment.

Here it goes.

I stumble out of the classroom, my palms almost bleeding from the teacher's lesson. I'd done my assignment, and I'd laid out all my honest thoughts on paper, eschewing the standard interpretation in favor of my own.

Big mistake.

Sister Matilde, my teacher, had been scandalized when she'd read my essay and she'd asked me to sit in front of the whole classroom, while she taught me yet another lesson. She'd taken a wooden stick and slapped my open palms with it until the skin broke, blood almost reaching the surface.

I'd taken it all without showing any weakness. I could tell, just like Cressida and her gang, that Sister Matilde was waiting for my tears to flow, for my knees to buckle when I kneeled to ask for forgiveness.

I'd given her none of that.

I'd stood still, stoically enduring the pain and the jibes that my classmates were throwing at me. I'd taken all the pain without a sound, just waiting until Sister Matilde got tired of hitting me.

Taking a deep breath, I focus on not giving in to the pain. It's not like it's the first time this has happened. But it's certainly the one time Sister Matilde had not held anything back.

I walk slowly toward my room when I spot Claudia. Head down, shoulders slumped, she's following a group of girls her age toward the back of the cloisters.

Confused, since I've never heard Claudia mention any school friends, I follow closely.

The open area allows me to see exactly what's happening, and I gasp when Claudia's pushed to the ground.

The girls, forming a circle around her, start taunting her and calling her all sorts of ugly names. The situation is entirely too familiar as I watch Claudia take it all. Head bent low; she's not even trying to defend herself when one girl tries to hit her.

I jump out of my hiding place, running toward her and trying to disband this awful mob.

Lord, you'd think in a place of God people would be more… godly. But no. Taught from young that being good means you are above everyone else makes these girls think that because Claudia was born out of wedlock she deserves their contempt.

"Stop it!" I call out, worming my way inside their circle and taking Claudia in my arms. "What do you think you're doing?" I ask, shaking my head at them in reproach.

Some girls have the decency to look ashamed at being caught, but one in particular, the leader I'm guessing, still has a look of arrogance on her face.

"Are you okay?" I quickly ask Claudia and she nods, her eyes full of unshed tears.

"You can't go around abusing people." I turn to the others, their gazes now focused on the ground.

"How would you feel if someone did this to you, too?" I ask, but no one replies.

Shaking my head in disgust, I tug Claudia to her feet, drawing her closer to my side.

"Go now before I give you a taste of your own medicine," I say in my most adult voice, and watch as the girls scurry away. Their leader is the only one trailing behind, but even she leaves when she sees she's lost her support.

"Are you hurt?" I ask Claudia, worried she might have gotten new bruises. She shakes her head, but I'm not convinced. I start patting her down when I hear another familiar voice.