Sister Jude's Demons

A Desire

"Tell me about who you were before Briarcliff, Sister," Monsignor Howard pried. Jude ran her fingers, slowly through her hair, enjoying its freedom and the sweet scent of apples. She closed her eyes as her mind wandered and she started to remember all the things religion had made her forget.

"When I was 22, I fell in love. I wasn't a smart girl or rich, but Casey Richmond was a fine man. Ah, he was better than I could have hoped for. My mother used to tell me I'd done well and I was going to make it with him by my side. He was the son of a Pastor, so a man of God, yes. But he had some pretty morphed ideas about religion. Anyway, we got engaged, we got married, we lived together. We were so in love. For years we talked about children and having a family. It was all I wanted. Eventually, I tell him I'm ready to have a baby. Oh, I had my heart set on this child. He would be so loved and so beautiful. And he would help us be a family again.' Jude smiled at her memory but then lowered her voice. "I knew my husband was unhappy,' she admits, with eyes that gazed out at the moon. 'He was distant and no matter what I did, no matter how much I told him I loved him, no matter all the things we would try, he just... didn't want me anymore. I could tell." She swallowed away the lump that had grown in her throat. She had begun to interfere with emotions that had been safely locked away for many years. They were delicate and fragile and reacted in inexplicable ways. She hadn't thought about Casey in years and now here she was crying over their story. She continued her delve into her history with a vague smile on her face, but her eyes stared into the space in front of her, and not on anything in particular, as though she was watching it all play out in front of her. Timothy watched, saddened by the obvious pain the Sister was going through. "I became ill not long after that. My husband had infected me with his infidelity, and not only did he shame me, not only did he break my heart, ruin my marriage and make me suffer through the disease, but he rendered me childless. He took away my baby. He took what was going to make it all alright again." Jude closed her eyes and tightened her fist. She had never told anyone that story before, and wondered what it was that made her tell it to the Monsignor. She wiped her eyes and looked up at him, his face filled with pain and pity for the woman he had never understood. He put his hand on Jude's and his gaze into her eyes was stronger than she'd ever felt it.

"God has rewarded you for your misfortune and your sacrifices, Jude. You mustn't poison yourself because of someone else's inability to see what a spectacular woman you are. I can only imagine the wife you were. And only pity the man that risks losing you." The tears that slowly ran from Sister Jude's eyes were barely noticed. For she had gone to a place much deeper than mere tears. Her emotions ran so deeply she remained motionless for a second, staring into the Monsignor's eyes. There was a pain, a constant burning of unhappiness that cooked inside of her. Sometimes only a simmer, she could go about her day hardly remembering anything at all. Occasionally however, the angst would boil inside her, overwhelm her, and drain her so completely she turned from a woman of authority to the woman she used to be. The woman who would act on her impulses and feel an emotional rainbow inside her.

She remained slightly choked up by what Timothy had just said to her. For he had never said anything so direct, so honest and so lovely to her before. She felt his hand still on hers and wished with her heart that he could love her the way she loved him in that very moment. She hoped he would desire her and devour her and fulfill the bitter, angry void inside her with some kind of happiness. In those few short, silent seconds, Timothy couldn't have imagined what was taking place inside Judy's head. Every time they met she felt they shared a small, insignificant moment together, that she would nurse into an entire love affair. She was a smart enough woman to know that Monsignor Howard was far from interested in her as a lover; she knew the idea was preposterous. A man of God, and a man with control and a sense of purpose, he could hold himself, and probably hadn't ever had a sinful thought, Jude mused. Not like her unholy past and the indescretions she had brought with her into her present. She thought of their meetings as a prequel to an elaborate love affair. She secretly read into the smiles and compliments the Monsignor would offer her. She would make her own temperature rise with thoughts of what he was doing after their meetings. In her head he was concealing his sexual desires for Jude, he was tormented with the thought of sliding his hands up her habit, of unbuttoning her untouched bosom and feasting, like an animal, on her flesh. She would drive herself mad with yearning the feel of his hot breath against her neck, and even took pleasure in thinking of being his first.