Birgitta the Nun

Part 10 - The Map

As custom had it, whenever the occasion presented itself, Birgitta put her feet up in front of a good fire. Her toes spread inside her slippers, let themselves be massaged by the rays of the dancing flames. The heat wandered from her feet to her knees, up over her tummy and into her face, wrapping its comforting chrysalis around her. A slumber tempted to take over. Peace reigned all around her, made room for forgetting, crumpled the last days' bustle and disturbance into a meek ball—threw it into the waste bin. Let bygones be bygones—

But now, in the middle of a cloud of oblivion, the cat came flying in, collapsed on the warm floor in front of Birgitta. Reality followed in her furry wake and the unrested nun leaned over her chair to observe the drama. The cat panted, heaved her whole little body to receive some air, restore her exhausted lungs.

"Stop acting like a silly dog," Birgitta bent down to pick up her friend. She gave the panting cat a kiss on the head before placing her on her lap.

"Sorry Birgitta—" the cat stopped short, her words disappeared in a whimper. She looked around, wrapped her tail around her—then, made herself comfortable. Soon her fast-beating cat-heart calmed down. She payed some attention to her paws, groomed them with care, then put her chin on Birgitta's soft knee and closed her eyes.

The nun also closed her eyes. "You know, I'm going to tell you a story."

"Meow, really?"

"Oh yes, my dear. It's about a wolf, you see—" Birgitta stroked the cat over the head, making her ears go flat to the sides. "There once was a naughty, little wolf, scurrying the lands. It was a most wicked little wolf indeed—with its long, black tail and cunning, yellow eyes, it crawled the hills - just like our hills, behind the monastery - preparing to make mischief. Any shepherdess coming near it would give way for bells and calls and alarm. It never really had a chance, this wolf, being so small and black and with such a long tail—but it enjoyed giving the herd a big scare—" She opened one eye and peeked at the little cat in her lap. No reaction. And so she continued, "They were jumpy, you see, these shepherdesses, and the sheep trusted them. One day, when one particularly careful shepherdess was on duty, a new intrusion was to be had: a colorful croquet-ball came flying through the air. It bounced off the horns of a ram, 'boink-boink,' continued in a colorful arc over the head of the shepherdess, and landed with a happy thud at her feet. The ram appeared oblivious, continued its grazing in peace—but the shepherdess let out a curse on receiving the uninvited sphere." Birgitta chuckled and closed her eye. "—Luckily, the owner of the croquet-ball - a magnanimous person, yes, very much so - came to the rescue. She abandoned her garden-game, and ran up the hills to retrieve her escaping ball. No harm had been done, really, and she gave the shepherdess her sincerest apologies. The shepherdess accepted the apology, returned the ball, and took the opportunity to vent her worries on another matter - a wolf. Had the magnanimous person herself, perhaps, seen a black, wild creature, lurking around the neighborhood? Perhaps while playing croquet in her lustrous garden—?"

Now it was the cat's turn to open one eye. "This sounds an awful lot like you, Birgitta."

"Oh, you're right, it does. You know—you've caught me: I was there. And so, that's how I came to know about the wolf." Birgitta paused her stroking, then, looking straight at the cat, "Have you perhaps seen something of the sort? A 'wolf'? Giving our peaceful surroundings a bad reputation?"

The cat purred.

"We need to treat our neighbors with respect, my dear friend. You know, I wouldn't approve of any snooping—"

The cat lifted her head, pricked her ears. "Wait. Snooping—"

"Mmhm—what's that, my little wolf?" Birgitta paused her lecture and turned to the cat in her lap, again picking up a panic.