The Cigarette Girl. Caroline Woods

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СКАЧАТЬ I have faith in your ability to control your baser instincts.”

      “I will.” Another question lingered on the tip of her tongue, something she knew she should leave for another time, but she could not help asking. “And Grete? Surely if I go, you’ll send her in two years? She’s a better student than I am.”

      Sister Maria retreated, pulling her hands into her cowl. “Poor Grete. After she failed the last exam in Latin, I asked her what her favorite subject was. Her response? First aid. It would be a shame to continue putting pressure on her academically, don’t you think, Berni?”

      Berni tried to keep her voice calm. “Who’s pressuring her?”

      Sister Maria shrugged. “You don’t need a diploma to specialize in Kinder, Küche, Kirche, and we both know that’s where she’s headed. She’s a delicate one.”

      Berni felt her face grow hot. “She enjoyed first aid because she’s interested in medicine, not in just being a wife.”

      “Don’t say ‘just’ a wife, Bernadette. There is nothing wrong with this path. Grete has homely sensibilities; anyone can see that. And if she doesn’t find a husband, she can stay here.”

      Berni’s fingers and the tips of her ears were still tingling with the first good news, yet a weight grew in the bottom of her stomach. “Stay here?”

      “Yes, we’d be happy to have her join the lay staff. You, with all your energy, may think this the worst place in the world, but I assure you, it is not.” Sister Maria pointed upward. “God has a plan for each of us, large and small. Who would pollinate flowers if not the humble bee?”

      But we are not humble bees. We are Metzgers. “Grete’s more than capable. She simply can’t hear well, but it’s only bad in one ear.” It was a relief to say this aloud. Berni waited for a reaction from Sister Maria, but the woman did not blink.

      “That’s why her voice sounds funny,” Berni continued, her voice rising, “and why she doesn’t do well in class. If you look closely you’ll find she reads and writes better than I do.”

      The lamp flickered. “I’m aware of this,” Sister Maria said shortly. “It’s why I’d encourage her to seek another path.”

      Now it seemed as though the Virgin in her gilt frame was looking past Berni, not at her. She put her hands over her face and then her ears, trying to banish the little voice inside that told her this was true: Grete would shrink and cower at the academy. Berni’s breathing grew faster and faster. The reverend mother knew. Sister Lioba must have told her. They knew all about Grete’s ears and had never done anything about it.

      “Berni. Look at me. You cannot let your ambition set her up for failure.”

      “You’re punishing her!” Berni said at last. She stuck her hands back under her knees to keep them from flying about. “How can you punish Grete because she can’t hear well?”

      “Punish!” The reverend mother shoved her chair back. Her eyes, and then Berni’s, flitted to the corner where she kept a switch. “We at St. Luisa’s have been nothing but charitable to you. We’ve offered both of you shelter, food, an education. Orphans live on the streets and work as prostitutes. Now I’ve just told you that your sister is welcome to stay here indefinitely, as long as she needs a place, and you accuse me of trying to punish?”

      Berni shook her head. All her life, she had believed there was indeed a place for Grete and herself, a home, hazy at its edges, with a fireplace's warmth at its center. It would be theirs, theirs alone, and once they found it all would be gemütlich forever.

      On shaking legs, she stood. “If you hold Grete back, simply because of her ailment, I—I will never go to Mass again.”

      Sister Maria’s mouth opened. For a moment, nothing but air wheezed out. “You’d commit yourself to the devil, thinking it would save your sister?” She came around the desk. “Do not poison your sister’s spirit, girl.”

      “Poisoning her?” Berni’s throat felt dry all of a sudden. “Not me! Not me!”

      “Come here, child.” Sister Maria locked Berni’s elbow in an iron grip and tried to force her to expose her backside. She was strong, but so was Berni. Berni tucked her thighs, squirming away from the slap. In the process, she twisted Sister Maria’s arm. She heard bones creak.

      “Hold still—you devil child!”

      The room darkened, and Berni wondered if the devil truly had taken her. Sister Maria dove for the switch, but Berni got there first. She stood poised to fight, legs splayed, the whip dangling from her right hand as the reverend mother watched, panic in her eyes.

      Berni meant only to scare Sister Maria, to make a noise, to show she was in charge now. But as she brought the switch down hard on the edge of the desk, its tail end lashed the sister’s face, catching her on the ear and across her cheek. Sister Maria’s hand flew to her face, and her eyes widened and filled with tears. As they stared at each other she reminded Berni of the toddlers in the nursery who’d cry in stunned silence in the wake of a nun’s slap, and she realized then that Sister Maria was a mere human; they all were.

      In the stillness Berni knew she’d destroyed everything, all she’d worked for, all her hopes for herself and Grete, in a single moment. She howled, and threw down the switch; before Sister Maria could grab her arm, she gave the desk a kick. The lamp crackled and went out, and Berni ran down the hall toward the stairs. As she sprinted, she thought about the black mark her shoe must have left on the desk. A Lulu would be the one to clean it.

      • • •

      Berni barely slept the night after she whipped Sister Maria. Grete had known something was wrong, but Berni had simply turned the other way and stared across the row of beds, unblinking, until dawn. When morning came, she knew, she’d be hauled back to the office and sentenced. It would almost be a relief.

      But when the call to rise came, nothing happened. Breakfast, Berni realized with a shiver, would begin with the Angelus, and she’d vowed to stop praying unless Sister Maria relented about Grete and the academy. “You go,” she told a puzzled Grete. “I’ll be in the refectory a minute behind you.” Instead, she wandered for the rest of the day. Bell after bell rang, and for the first time she noticed how the home would thunder with hundreds of feet and then go quiet again, during prayer, chores, and meals.

      Her stomach growled. The air in the dormitory began to feel close. At four, the recreation hour, she snuck down into the courtyard, hoping to find Grete before word spread. The girls she passed in the corridors avoided her eyes, or perhaps she was imagining it; she hoped she was.

      She hadn’t taken two steps out the door when she felt two rough hands seize her arms. She turned to face Hannelore Haas, who had been waiting years to get revenge on Berni for stealing her Schultüte. She must have known nobody would stop her now.

      “Go ahead,” said Berni. Tears were already pooling in her eyes.

      Hannelore’s blows came quickly, the first grazing Berni’s temple, the second landing squarely on her eye with a loud pop. Berni’s head snapped back on her neck, and for a minute she saw blackness and stars.

      She lay on her bed with a cold rag to her eye when Grete came, wringing her hands.

      “It’s СКАЧАТЬ