Birgitta the Nun

Part 11 - Revelations

Charlie the wizard apologized a hundred times, and took a vow never to trust, or read, maps ever again. She left the monastery, scorched staff in hand, promising never to return, ever again - not even if there were a fire.

And so, the monastery returned to normal. Order and piece resettled. Again nothingness reigned. Humility blew along the vast hallways, modesty quivered inside high salons, silence swirled around the dining hall. And all of it, all the humbleness of great respect, gathered around the garden, spread its protective duvet along the un-mowed lawn, full of tufts and turfs. A heavy cloud of incuriosity took root around the gates, kept guard, quenching even the smallest piece of action claiming a knock on the doors.

Birgitta made her way along the corridor. Her strides were quick as she marched across the monastery. She climbed several stairs, traversed a few rooms, took some turns right, then left—to finally reach the door of the holy office. Without knocking, she opened the door and entered.

The abbess didn't look up. A small bundle of documents, laying in front of her on the desk, had kidnapped her noble focus. She kept reading, as she pointed to Birgitta to sit down. Silence ensued. Birgitta studied the top of the head hanging before her, the wings of the wimple touching the desk. Patience. Her senior kept her reading important, she knew that. All study had to go before chatter.

Finally, the abbess pushed her document away. She looked up, and with a grunt, "Did you know," it was not a question, "that we have penguins in our village?"

"What do you mean?" Birgitta hesitated.

"At the zoo—" the abbess continued. "The zoo in our village apparently has penguins."

"I didn't know there was a zoo—"

"Neither did I." The abbess made big eyes. "Strange things. And why didn't I know of this?"

"Well—" Birgitta composed herself and answered in a steady voice, "We live a sort of cloistered life. Our monastery is not a school, and we never wanted it that way. The outside world does not concern us."

"I know—I know," the abbess waved an eager hand. "But still—penguins?"

Birgitta fidgeted in her chair.

The abbess apprehended the gesture. She let her enlightenment drop, shook her head, but then, continued in a more appeased fashion, "Very well—what can I do for you, brave Birgitta?"

"The thing is," Birgitta started, but cut herself off. She cleared her throat, then, "You know, stranger things have happened recently, than penguins coming to our village—"

The abbess frowned. She tilted her head for Birgitta to continue. Waited—then, again the waiving of an eager hand, "Spit it out dear sister. There's no need to be polite with me. I'm positive you understand, I'm in no mood for guessing. Not in many ways am I easily disturbed—and I like my news fast and honest—"

"You planted the map, didn't you?" Birgitta cut it short. "It was all a joke on your part, wasn't it?" She stared at the abbess with steady eyes

The abbess stared back, just as unwavering. She shrugged her shoulders. "Well—you know, one gets restless—and I have the newcomers to consider. Sœur Madeleine really did appreciate the experience, one can tell."

"But you're an abbess for heaven's sake, you can't get bored. There's no room in heaven for you to get bored."

"I didn't say 'bored'. I said restless. Put it in a frame, the one next to the other, and the given form of uneasiness will appear—taste the difference, and you'll know what I mean."