Confessions of a Novice Nun

CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT FACES OF HUMANITY

CHAPTER 2: DIFFERENT FACES OF HUMANITY

A cab directly behind us buzzed loudly, making the taxi driver of my hired cab jump from his seat as he stepped on the gas, shooting us forward to the convoluted traffic. I registered briefly the green traffic light counting down originally from sixty, now down to fifty-six.

Hello New York.

Being used to the small group of people I grew up with in our Cathedral in Woodinville, I couldn't stop craning my head to watch the throngs of people walking by the sidewalk. There were people of all walks of life, boldly showcasing their distinctiveness with the way they walk, and dress, and move... Woodinville's people seemed to count as just one boring person in comparison. And the buildings, all tall and intimidating, looked like they wanted to out-stand each other, each one seeming to gaze down at the hassle and bustle at their feet. I could also count more hot-dog stands than I could the number of Woodinville's business franchises.

I guess New Yorkers are obsessed with hot-dogs.

Seeing all these makes me wonder why the world got itself into a big hurry whilst I was not looking. And how now, I need to catch up with it.

After about half an hour of traffic and travel, my hired cab finally skidded to a stop in front of a line of tall, dingy apartments. I slumped forward by the impact.

Still disoriented, I heard the driver speak without even a glance in my direction.

"That would be seventy, miss."

I took a double-take after hearing the price.

"Excuse me? H-how much?"

"Seventy."

"Isn't that too much? The digits only show fifty," I argued, gesturing at the machine attached beside his steering wheel.

"This is an airport taxi, miss. I already gave it to you cheap as it is."

Bossily. Uncaring. Irritated.

Perfect.

Reluctantly, I dug inside my shoulder bag for my purse and regrettably pulled out seventy bucks to hand to the driver. I suddenly wished I was still wearing my habit so I would be treated right, feeling that I was somehow taken advantage of.

As I got out, I immediately chastised my thoughts and asked God a quick prayer of forgiveness for being angry and for wanting to use my novice-nun uniform for selfish reasons. But still, I was now short of seventy bucks which, back at the orphanage, could have helped the children buy more clothes than they could usually indulge. Sighing in defeat, I took out my luggage of meager belongings from the cab's trunk to cart inside the building.

After I knocked at the building's main door, a tall and petite old lady opened it for me. Though probably at age eighty, the woman still looked quite strong.

"Amethyst Fay Reed?" Her mouth seemed set for a permanent scowl as she assessed me with her all-glaring eyes.

I tried to smile as I answered, "Yes. You must be Mrs Sullivan."

"Miss Sullivan," she corrected with a sneer. "Follow me."

I scanned the small receiving area situated not too far from the elevator doors. The place looked old but well-kept. It doesn't scream anything modern, unlike all that I've seen from the city thus far, and for that I was thankful. I hoped that the place wouldn't alienate me that much from where I stayed at Woodinville.