Saints and Sinners

Chapter Thirty

Boston Christian Hospital

Boston

Massachusetts

Nuns in transit were treated as livestock, although there were far less rules and regulations concerning their welfare than there was for live sheep, pigs or cattle. Sister 3563999 had already travelled up and down the country for her basic training and then two brief postings in different convents, so being strapped onto a bench seat in a hot and overcrowded van came as no surprise. Her senses were all switched off, apart from her ears, and she left the convent she had been scrubbing floors at for several weeks with the words of God filling her closed black world. But that was a short journey, and after what did not feel like more than an hour or so, someone took her arm and led her out of the van and up some steep steps. Then she was strapped onto another hard bench, still listening to God in all His glory, wondering what was going to happen to her next. When she felt her transport start to move, and then lift off the ground, she realised that she was on an airplane.

It was a long journey. She was already wearing a feeding muzzle, which had been attached to a bottle of water when they started out, and at some stage she got a meal, normal gruel, all sucked up eagerly, because she was starving. Then more water. She felt some turbulence. It was not easy held bolt upright, but she slept for a while. And then she felt the plane start to descend, followed by the bump of the wheels hitting the tarmac. Minutes later, she was again unbuckled and led down more steps and into another van, with another hard seat. No cushions for livestock. But again, the journey was relatively short. Unbuckled again, she was marched a short distance, still blind, but God stopped talking. She heard her earpieces click, and then an abrupt command.

"Strip." She stripped her habit off as fast as she could and dropped it on the floor. She was expecting a chance to shit and shower, and she hardly noticed her eyes coming back online or the dozens of other nuns all removing their clothes around her. She just wanted to know where she was going to have to run to. "Move!"

She was encouraged by the hiss of a switch landing on her thigh, and for a woman of forty-five, she made a respectable dash for the facilities. In seconds, she was squatting over a steel trench, evacuating her bowels and bladder as fast as she could, as two keepers with blue braid around their white veils walked amongst the new arrivals, wielding their switches as they went, making their charges hurry. Moments later, she was standing beneath a torrent of cold water, rubbing herself all over and then hurrying into the dryers.

"Sack!" She almost dived into the rough sleeping sack, fast enough to avoid punishment for once, and then lay still as the top was closed and she was lifted up and attached to a hook in the ceiling. She could feel another body on her left side, and soon gained another on her right as they were all squeezed in. She closed her eyes and fell asleep quickly, well aware that she would not get long.

"Sack!" The normal wake up call, loud in her ears. She tensed, waiting for her sack to be opened, needing to control her fall to the ground. She knew the floor would be hard, covered only by straw, which would soak up any waste discharged during their rest. She did well as she fell out, landing on her feet, but then the switch landed and she headed back to the shower as fast as she could, then the dryers. She put on a clean habit and received her feeding muzzle from a keeper. She would suck up her breakfast in chapel, as always. Several hours. Time did not mean much to any nun, but she reckoned three or maybe even a little more. Then she expected to be put to work, but as she left the chapel with her fellows, she was pulled out of line and switched off again. A strong hand on her arm led her away, and then she was pulled to a halt, and left just standing somewhere. Her feeding muzzle was removed. After a short wait, her ears clicked back on.

"Welcome home, Pam." Reece Cartwright said, staring at the black and white habit, trying to imagine his former wife beneath it. He imagined that she would have lost weight. She was by no means fat before, but after six weeks of gruel and water, with plenty of hard physical labour, she would be in good shape. He had tasted the gruel himself, and it was vile, but the sustenance provided all the vitamins and nutrients needed to live. He imagined her eating it for every meal, for the rest of her life, with nothing but water to wash it down. He turned her eyes and her voice back on with a fingertip and placed his cell phone back on his desk. "You may speak when directed, but remember who and what you are, Sister...but I wanted to welcome you back to Boston...how are you finding your service, Sister?"