Birgitta the Nun

Part 56 - Plan B

The silverware was dear to the monastery, even though it ought not be. Madeleine turned the matter over. Pristine was right, the convent was a non-materialistic environment, and luxurious knifes, spoons and forks had no place in it. Madeleine didn't know what to do. At length, she wouldn't be able to ignore the bills, no matter how she tried. Probably the silverware needed to go anyway, in the name of fairness. Keeping it would only risk the monastery being exposed as both a poor and a hypocritical institution. Assets were in every way improper. But something told Madeleine to wait. She should at least try to find another solution before getting rid of the perhaps harmless tableware.

Madeleine made a detour. She cut her course off and headed in a new direction, only to return to her point of departure. As a precaution - not to reencounter Pristine - she found her way into some ducts, and traveled crawling via the ventilation system.

Thus, full of dust and spiderweb, she dropped down from the ceiling, back into the holy office. There existed a backup plan, Madeleine felt confident, and she was going to find it.

She studied the disorder of the holy office - she surely had made a mess of the place. Not Madeleine, oh no—but the abbess herself. She lived and worked in a virtual chaos. Luckily, her undisciplined office didn't reflect her personality, or she would be in trouble: an old cup of coffee would symbolize her spirit animal, and the gathering flies would remain as her only friends. How did she do it? How did she manage the order within, when complete disorder reigned on the outside? And to leave such a mess in the hands of another? She mustn't have realized what a responsibility she was leaving behind - what a lot of work she was handing over to Madeleine.

Madeleine made her way through the lawlessness. Heaps of books and papers lay all over the floor, and to reach the desk she had to work a small maze. She followed the small path she had plowed on her previous visits, and soon took a seat in the throne of the abbess: the office chair. Now—where should she begin?

She pulled out some drawers but already knew their content: papers, stones, dried flowers, scissors, crayons and the like, filled the drawers to the brim. The documents on the desktop were nonsense, she knew that, and she didn't bother to go through them yet another time. She left her grand chair and went over to the window overlooking the garden. A small sofa hunched under the windowsill and Madeleine took a seat. More heaps of unsorted paperwork balanced on the soft furniture - and on the small table adjoining it, and on the windowsill above - but no document that would satisfy Madeleine. She searched under the sofa but only found more stones and dried flowers. Nothing of use, nothing to make any sense.

The bookcases offered the same disorderly business. Heavy literature thronged in unaligned rows along the walls, making it a miracle the shelves did not collapse. Madeleine got up and picked down a pair of random albums. She flipped the pages but soon gave up the meaningless activity. Everything about the room was nonsensical. The silliness distracted her and she almost forgot why she was there. Certainly not to study the manual coming with the sofa, "Step one: fix first leg to bottom of your beautiful new couch. Step two: fix second leg—" Madeleine crumbled the manual and dropped it to the floor, as if punishing it for leading her astray. But no, she felt no anger, only a frightful urgency.

She stood in the middle of the room and scrutinized her surroundings. Nothing caught her eye as being of any importance. No indication of a plan, or a back-up plan. Or even a loose end. It was absurd - so many objects and books, and so little thought behind it all.

She returned to the desk to start her search over. As she took a seat in the abbess' fabulous chair, however, a knock on the door drew her attention back to reality.

"Is anyone in there?" Sœur Pristine called from the other side.

"Aha," Madeleine thought. "So the wicked old nun had also returned to the holy office—"

"Can I come in?" Pristine continued. "I have some business to declare."

Madeleine didn't stir. She held her breath and hoped for the door to be bolted tight. Had she turned the key? She couldn't remember—

A rattle came from the entrance. Pristine took hold of the door-handle and shook it with all her might. But without luck. The assault proved not enough and the entrance remained barred. Pristine let go of the handle. An uncomfortable silence ensued.

Madeleine dared not breathe. What was the crazy nun doing out there? Had she gone away? Had she got a key?

Then, Pristine charged at the door a second time.

"Please let me in," she cried and shook the door-handle with terrible desperation. "It's really urgent—who's in there anyway? You're not supposed to be in there. Only the abbess is allowed in there. And Madeleine, for now—" She hesitated and for a moment let go of the door. But only to let her feet take over: she gave the door a nasty kick, and continuing her wailing, "No, not really—only the abbess is supposed to be in there. Let me in, you trespasser—"

Madeleine closed her eyes and tried to focus. What would the abbess do? Well, the abbess had proper authority and wouldn't give a damn about Pristine's threats. Also, she was a crazy lady, and would probably enjoy the challenge of the equally deranged Pristine. But no—Madeleine realized she was being unfair. The abbess was a clever creature, and though she acted-up at times, she always had adequate reasons for doing so.

Madeleine opened her eyes and stared at the rattling door. There—there on the door—she saw it. She narrowed her eyes: on the door, fastened with some sorry piece of adhesive tape, sat the map. It was the ridiculous map of the abbess, constructed with the help of some crayons and a childish imagination.

Madeleine flew from her chair and snatched the map. She hid the drawing under her robe and unlocked the door. Then, casual as ever, she strode out of the office.

"Oh—you're here too?" she said in meeting the knocking Pristine.

"Why—" Pristine faltered, and actually stepped out of away to let Madeleine pass. "How did you get in there? I saw you leave—"

"I forgot some papers," Madeleine offered. "You know what a strained business the monastery is nowadays? One can't relax, even for a second. Now—if you'll excuse me, I need to run." She bolted the door and flew down the corridor.

Pristine stood crestfallen. She didn't know if she were to follow Madeleine, or continue her banging on the door. Her actions wouldn't agree. Thus, with her knuckles still against the door, but her gaze after the fleeing nun, she was left hanging in uncertainty - like a bird falling asleep from indecision.