Cross and Conflicts

CHAPTER VII: Runaway Nun

The outreach program the previous week allowed Noumenon to know more about the barangay’s people. There’s a wall—maybe even higher than those of the city’s—between them, but there was nothing wrong with that since it wasn’t—for her—impregnable. She believes that, eventually, the Monsignor will be able to break it and conquer their faithlessness.

            Sing to me the song of the stars

            Of your galaxy dancing

            And laughing and laughing again

            When it feels like my dreams are so far

            Sing to me of the plans that you have for me over again.

            So I lay my head back down

            And I lift my hands and pray

            To be only yours

            I pray to be only yours

            I know now you’re my only hope.

The novice’s affiliation to the choir of the Carmelite Monastery of the Blessed Virgin Mary reached Monsignor Cabrera’s ears and this led him to assign her to sing hymns and canticles every mass. To him, she doesn’t only have a beautiful voice and a comely face, there’s also her arcane appeal that holds people’s interest, and this has been one of the main reasons why there is an addition to the number of people who came to the church. Her positivity is contagious, and she contributes a volume of energy to the parish. Even so, he saw the exact opposite in her companion Sister Mary Peter. He had the uncanny feeling that she might be here for another purpose other than plain observing. She doesn’t offer much since she’s quite reclusive, and there are times that he caught her staring at him. There was even one time that Pablo saw her coming out of the priest’s room. He prayed that his assumption not be true.

            The next day, however, something even more confusing occurred.

            Noumenon knocked on Sister Mary Peter’s door to call her to have breakfast, yet she heard no response. When the novice incidentally opened the door, she saw that her belongings were gone along with her. What was more inscrutable was the note left on her bed.

            “I realized that I shouldn’t have been a nun. I have to go somewhere far.” The note said.

Noumenon was in utter quagmire. She wondered why her senior would suddenly abandon their field observation, particularly that they still have a community to connect to in a month to fill. More importantly, she doubted the idea that Sister Mary Peter was conflicted with herself as a Carmelite nun.

            They may have not been close, but it startled her why someone like Sister Mary Peter would leave the Sisterhood now when she has been a member for nearly a decade. Furthermore, she doubted the veracity of her going far away, especially when the penmanship on the note wasn’t nearly as good as her senior’s.

            Where are you now, Sister? She wondered and sighed while gluing her eyes towards the children playing by the front gate.

            “Was that huge sigh about Sister Mary Peter?” She heard someone ask from behind. It was Monsignor Cabrera approaching her in his purple vestment.

            She turned around and shyly smiled at him. “Oh, Monsignor. Uh, yes.”

            He joined her by the church’s entrance. “It is quite a definite shock. Who would have thought that she felt that way?”

            “Yeah, it really is. Monsignor, do you believe that she really wrote that?”

            He glanced at her then stared at the children playing. “I’m compelled to do so. I mean, who else would do that?”

            “But, she’s been a nun for many years. Why would she do that?”

            He smiled at her. “You know, Sister, God made humans to be capable of making surprising decisions of their own. That’s why I have reason to believe that she decided to leave being a nun behind to embrace a life where she can truly be happy.”   

            A life where she can be truly happy? She didn’t have a clue as to whether her senior was unhappy living in their monastery. She couldn’t even fathom if she herself is truly happy with how she is right now, or if she just chose to live like this to escape from the painful memories that were tugging her feet, dragging her from moving forward.

            She couldn’t do anything about her senior having left, but she supports her no matter what.

            “Well then, I’ll leave you to yourself, Sister. Don’t miss supper later.”

            Noumenon watched as the monsignor walked away from her. By that point, however, there was that peculiar feeling—something mysterious and foreboding—that delivered her chills. It wasn’t the way how sluggishly the priest walked; it was the small laceration on his jaw below his earlobe.

Noumenon had realized later in the night that she had fallen asleep while noting details of her observation for the day. Her pen had squashed against her arm, creating a temporary mold, and pages of her notebook were crumpled under her chin, and the lamp flickered inches from her face. She decided to tidy up her desk.

            “Huhuhu.” A sound she then heard—it was vivid, and she couldn’t be mistaken that it was the cry of a girl—it was the same that she heard about a week ago.

            She immediately grabbed the lamp and got out of her quarter. She looked to her left then to her right; she found no one. But her ears continued to hear the cry which became louder and felt nearer to her.

            Starting to be terrified, she called out to no one in particular in that looming darkness. “Where are you? A-are you alright?”

            Oddly, there was no response. There was still no one, yet the crying continued.

            Noumenon mustered the courage to scan the area. She had to know who was crying and why.  Shortly, nevertheless, she spotted a girl in a yellow dress. Her back was on her while she seemed to be wiping her tears.

            “Hey, are you alright? What happened?”

            The little girl didn’t want to reply, and she hastily walked away from her. Noumenon felt that she needed to follow her.

            “Wait! Where are you going?”

            She tried her earnest to catch up, but the girl was surprisingly quick. It was until she was led as far as the parish’s backyard. It was empty, and it was quiet, and the child she was following just seconds ago had mysteriously disappeared. She walked around, still looking for her. The wind came colder by the minute, and the voices of nature turned eerie around her. She later found herself tripping over something. She managed to secure the lamp she carried. She brought it over to where she tripped, yet she only saw the wild array of dry grass. She combed through it until she felt something hard—it was a protruding handle, and it was what her foot caught.

            Isn’t this—? Noumenon couldn’t continue her guess—not with the icy grip on her hand which was about to pull the handle. She couldn’t help but look at who, out of nowhere, was now in front of her. She lifted the lamp over to that person and recognized Sister Mary Peter. Her hair was down, and she was drenched with water all over. She felt that she was trembling, and she wasn’t wearing her headdress. However, that wasn’t the only thing missing; her eye sockets were also hollow.

            Utterly horrified with her senior’s appearance, she managed to say, “S-sister? What happened to you?”

            Her forehead then bled and a gush of blood came out of her mouth as she spoke. “Sister” She almost whispered. “You have to wake up.”

And the broken ceiling was the first to welcome her eyes the moment she was severed from dream land the following morning. Her fright from the dream still lingered, and she realized that she was trembling. She sat up and brought her arms over her chest.

            Where are you, Sister? And what did you mean by what you told me? She thought.

            Something felt wrong, and she must know that.

Noumenon, again, requested to roam around Laurel. Elmer noticed that she strangely restrained herself from talking. Usually, she’d talk about various topics mindless of whether he was interested or not. She appeared to be engrossed in whatever she was thinking. She smiled and greeted the residents, but she wasn’t paying them attention.

            “Sister, you seem to have a lot of things on your mind. Are you alright?” He asked—not out of concern but purely curiosity.

            She looked him in the eye for quite a while then sighed. “Physically, I’m fine, but mentally, I’m troubled.”

            “Troubled? About what?”

            “I—” She was hesitant, and she wasn’t certain why she was.

            “Hmm?”

            “I had a terrifying dream last night.”

            Elmer quietly listened to her narration.

            “Sister Mary Peter was there, and she appeared to be in a horrible condition. Her eyes were missing, and her face was bleeding. She was very hurt in my dream.”

            The teenage sexton unconsciously looked away. “And?”

            “She told me to wake up. She couldn’t have meant literally; I feel that there’s an even deeper meaning to what she told me.”

            “I think you’re just too worried about Sister Mary Peter; that’s why you dreamed of her.”

            The novice noticed that he couldn’t properly look at her anymore. He was behaving oddly.

            “Maybe.” She had to agree.

            “Yeah, that’s right.”

            Bloog! Bloog! Bloog! Thunder suddenly conquered the sky above them, and they both looked up.

            “We should probably go back,” Elmer suggested.

            She forced a smile. “We apparently don’t have a choice.”

            He couldn’t stand behaving weirdly in front of her anymore too.

            “Before I met my senior, there was a little girl in a yellow dress.” She remembered.

            His eyes then widened.

            “She was crying. When I asked her if she was alright, she immediately walked away from me. I chased after her, but she disappeared.”

            “Tell me, Sister” Elmer said in a serious tone. “What else have you noticed from that little girl?”

            “I think she’s 8 or 9 years old, and her hair reached just about her shoulders. Why?”

            There was an obvious hint of startlement in his face. He looked pale as if he recalled something dreadful.

            “You’ve probably met Nina, my younger sister. She wore a yellow dress the day she went missing seven months ago.”