The Camden Tales

58 - Distractions

-=₪ October 1904 ₪=-

St John's Orphanage / Saint John's Wood / 10.20am

The solemn cadence of the nun's measured footsteps echoed through the cloistered classroom, each step a harsh metronome against the silence. In her stern grasp she held the dual tools of her authority: a weathered bible and a formidable wooden ruler. Her features, chiselled by years of stern discipline, set the rhythm for her recitation.

"'For rebellion is like the sin of divination, and arrogance like the evil of idolatry. Because you have rejected the word of the Lord, he has rejected you as king.' Write this, children. 'For rebellion... re - bell - ion..."

The hushed symphony of pencils scratching against time-worn paper filled the room, punctuated by her deliberate footsteps as she patrolled the rows of desks. Her hawk-like gaze ensured each girl was diligently transcribing, continuing in her recitation only when the writing ceased.

"'is like the sin of divination.' Div - i - nation." She articulated with an icy precision.

Coming to a halt beside Malka's desk, the nun cast an elongated shadow over the girl. The hard silence was shattered as the ruler cracked against Malka's hand causing her to drop her pencil and startling the other girls into wide-eyed attention. Malka held her throbbing hand, her breath hitching as she nursed the pulsating sting.

"Take up your pencil, Thirty-five," the nun commanded, her voice dipping into a menacing lowered tone.

Malka's hand, bruised and smarting from the ruler's assault, fumbled with the pencil, causing a ripple of malicious amusement among the other girls as it clattered back onto the desk.

"Not with your left hand, Thirty-five, your right hand," the nun decreed.

"But I can't write with me right,"

"My, my right, you imbecile. I cannot write with my right hand," the nun corrected, her words laced with venom. A chorus of stifled giggles rose from the class.

"SILENCE!" the nun roared, restoring the oppressive silence. "You will and must write with your right hand, Thirty-five. Inability is simply a lie."

"I'm not lying!" Malka protested, her voice rising in indignation.

A swift blow from the ruler collided with the back of Malka's head, the sharp pain bringing an immediate sting of tears to her eyes. She automatically reached for the tender spot, her left hand instinctively massaging it.

"Sit on your left hand immediately, Thirty-five!" the nun commanded. Malka continued to nurse her head, ignoring the order.

"I will not repeat myself!" the nun warned, her voice a deadly whisper. Depositing the bible and ruler on Malka's desk, she forcefully guided Malka's left hand beneath her, contorting it into an uncomfortable position. She then thrust the pencil into Malka's right hand.

"You've earned yourself an entry in the Punishment Book, young lady. Anticipate extra chores this evening," the nun declared, her overbearing presence looming over Malka. She was so close that Malka could smell the pungent odour of raw onions on her breath. Resuming her authoritative patrol, the nun continued her lesson.

"'and arrogance like the evil of idolatry.' Can anyone define arrogance? Yes, Nine."

"To be conceited, to have too much pride," the girl answered confidently.

"Correct, very good."

"Exercising power or authority without consideration for others," Malka muttered under her breath.