A MYSTERIOUS CONCEPTION

A MYSTERIOUS CONCEPTION

A Story by Terry Collett
"

AN ENCLOSED NUN BECOMES PREGNANT.

"




When young Sister Felicity fainted in church during mass, falling sidelong into the choir stalls, casting her mass book helplessly across the floor of the aisle, causing a few disobedient heads to turn from the altar, Sister Scholastica was, after a nod from Mother Abbess, the first to go to her aid, after the completion of the Agnus Dei.

Sister Scholastica with the help of Sister Martha lifted the pale-faced, limp-bodied, sister, out of the church and into the cool air of the cloister, where they sat her on one of the old wooden benches. After a few minutes Sister Felicity came round, and was then half-carried, half-walked, to the upstairs infirmary where she was laid down to rest.

- That's the third time she's fainted this week, noted Sister Augustine, a septuagenarian with a keen eye and memory, as she entered the refectory.

- Maybe it's the heat? suggested Sister Blaise. It is rather hot and it can cause some people to faint.

- Call this hot? contradicted Sister Luke. When I was in Africa it was far hotter than this and we had to cope with our tasks without fainting and swooning all over the place, added the sister who had been a missionary nun before transferring to the contemplative life. Sister Blaise pulled a face and moved to the breadboard in the refectory, where she cut herself a thin slice of brown bread.

- Perhaps it's the menopause she's going through? Sister Gregory put forward as she poured herself a mug of black coffee.

- She's too young for that, Sister Henry countered. Besides some of us senior sisters have entered that stage and we don't go around fainting all the time.

There was a pause while the sisters helped themselves to bread, coffee and tea. Each moved to their own place in the refectory, ate, and drank in silence pondering over Sister Felicity's frequent faintings and the probable cause.

After the short break the sisters stood in a close circle and looked at each other. - Well? Any more suggestions about young Sister Felicity? asked Sister Augustine, placing her wrinkled hands inside her habit out of sight.

- I think she eats far too little, suggested Sister Ignatius. I've watched her during lunch and supper, she eats scare enough to keep a sparrow alive. It wouldn't surprise me if she wasn't on some kind of fast. The sisters murmured quietly amongst themselves like pigeons.

- She's often the last to leave church after Compline. Perhaps she takes her midnight vigil too often and too long? plump Sister Elizabeth said quietly. She was at twenty-years, the baby of the community and the least listened to amongst them.


- The Lord calls us to follow Him; it can never be too long or often, Sister Henry countered firmly. It must be something in her make up.

- I think I heard her vomiting this morning, informed Sister Elizabeth. The other sisters went on murmuring for a few more seconds.
- Vomiting, you say? said Sister Ignatius. I do hope there's not a virus going round. The infirmary is busy enough now, she added with a moan.

- We never had viruses when I first entered the convent, Sister Augustine said, reflectingly. There's so much of it about these days. She placed her mug by the breadboard and slowly made her way out of the refectory. The other sisters continued to chatter amongst themselves for a few more minutes until the bell from the cloister rang loudly.

- Terce, said Sister Henry. God calls, she added as if God was standing just over her shoulder and she wanted to impress. The sisters made their way out of the refectory and along the cloister to the church in an orderly manner like young ducklings to a pond.

In the infirmary, Sister Scholastica and Sister Martha, having made Sister Felicity comfortable, were waiting for the infirmarian, Sister Ignatius's return. - You can go now, Sister Martha, I can wait for Sister Ignatius, Sister Scholastica said, smoothing down the blanket on Sister Felicity's bed. Sister Martha nodded and silently left the room. Sister Scholastica stood looking down at a pale faced, sleeping, nun. It seemed a mystery to her how this sister had become so unwell, so suddenly. Mother Abbess herself had called the doctor, and hopefully, he would be here soon, Scholastica reflected, walking across to the infirmary window that looked down on the spacious grounds of the convent.

- Sorry to keep you waiting, Sister Scholastica, Sister Ignatius said as she entered the infirmary. How's the patient?

- Sleeping, Sister Scholastica replied in a whisper.

- Has she vomited since she's been here? asked Sister Ignatius.

- No, Sister Scholastica, but she's very pale.

Sister Ignatius put her hand on the sleeping sister's forehead. Then she felt her pulse. - The doctor should be here soon. She paused.
 Third time this week, the infirmarian informed with a sigh. The two sisters watched and waited. The time on the infirmary clock moved slow. Sister Felicity slept like a child after a busy day.

After the doctor had left and Mother Abbess been informed, Sisters Ignatius and Scholastica waited for their superior's reply. The Abbess's room was large and oddly musky. The Abbess moved from the window to her large oak desk and back again. Suddenly she stopped and turned on them. - With child? How can that be? the Abbess asked in bewilderment. Pregnant? she added, shaking her head slowly in disbelief. The two sisters looked at each other with shocked expressions.

After the news of Sister Felicity's pregnancy had been announced in the chapter house that evening before Compline, there was a deathlike hush. A few heads shook; a few eyes met; a number of faces were pulled in utter incredulity. Then, Sister Augustine stood up totteringly and those members of the community present looked at her in habitual silent expectation.

- Can there be no mistake, Mother Abbess? the septuagenarian asked.

- The doctor said there was no doubt. He checked three times. He will say nothing, of course, Mother Abbess informed, gravely.

- What will become of Sister Felicity? Sister Elizabeth asked shyly, standing briefly from the wooden bench, her small thin hands clutching each other like naked spiders mating.

- She must decide eventually, Mother Abbess replied. There are matters to discuss, decisions to be made. But until these matters are discussed and a decision made, she will stay here. I shall have to inform the bishop eventually. she paused and looked around at the community. All faces were on her and full of childlike expectation.
We, her sisters in Christ, must do all we can to help and support her. Nothing of this matter must be divulged outside our community.
I hope we can open our hearts and close our lips on this matter.

The community rose as the Abbess stood and then left the chapter house. The sisters then followed in dribs and drabs in silence.

- How did she manage to get herself pregnant? Sister Norbet asked, as she walked along the cloister with a small group of nuns.

- The same way all women get pregnant, Sister Norbet, Sister Henry replied with a deep sigh. Must have been with a man, she added in case Sister Norbet had no idea of the matter of sexual intercourse.

- But how? She's not left the community recently, except for the dentist, and Sister Ignatius went with her then, Sister Rose said.

- Where there's a will, there's a way, Sister Henry declared coolly, gazing at her fellow nuns like an insouciant inquisitor.

- You are being uncharitable, Sister Henry, Sister Scholastica stated mildly, as she came up behind the group in the cloister. I have spoken to Sister Felicity and she is as shocked as we all are.

- She would be, Sister Henry said stiffly.

- She is shocked, Sister, because she cannot understand how she became pregnant, Sister Scholastica informed, mildly.

- So how do you think she got in that state, Sister Scholastica? Sister Henry asked coldly, raising her nose and darkening her eyes.

Sister Scholastica stopped and moved over to the low cloister wall and the small group followed her. - She says she's not been with any man in her life. And she's been here for seven years. Now apart from the chaplain, Father Woodworth, and our gardener, old Mr Casso, no men have access to our enclosure. Sister Scholastica paused. She eyed the sisters briefly and then continued.

- She has not been outside the enclosure without escort in those seven years, and so I am as puzzled as you are concerning the matter. A hush went over the small group for a few moments. Then Sister Norbet whispered something to Sister Scholastica. The latter shook her head and went on her way along the cloister to the church to ring the bell for Compline. Sister Norbet followed like a shadow.

Sister Rose sighed. - A mysterious conception. How is it possible?

- God alone knows, Sister Henry remarked, moving away from her sisters and walking down the grey stone steps into the church.

Sister Rose and Sister Elizabeth stood motionless by the wall. They were both novices and it all seemed both exciting and worrying to them. - You don't think it could happen to us? Sister Elizabeth enquired in a whisper, nibbling her fingers.

Sister Rose's eyes enlarged. She peered round over her shoulder.
- No, no. there must be some simple explanation. Why seek a mystery when a simple few facts could answer the problem? she remarked seeking to convince, but failing, and having failed, shivered.

- I shall not sleep easy tonight, Sister Elizabeth informed quietly. She peered up at the sky that was framed by the cloister. It was dark except for a sickly moon and a few sprinkled stars. God moves in mysterious ways, she added audibly, but mostly to herself. The other nun did not reply, but touched her sister's sleeve indicating it was time for Compline, as the bell chimed loudly from the tower over the church.

Sister Felicity heard the bell ringing for Compline as she lay on the hard-sprung bed in the infirmary. She had been there since after mass that morning when Sister Scholastica and Sister Martha brought her light-headed and feeble-bodied from the church where she had fainted.
Now, she mused sadly, I'm here with the other nuns who've seen better days in mind or body. She peered about her at old Sister James who had once been an expert on Gregorian chant and Choir Mistress, but was now barely able to feed herself or know who she was. And on the other side of the room was Mother Margaret one time Abbess who after two strokes had been forced to retire and often lay fingering her rosary for those in purgatory, or so she murmured to those who enquired.

But what really ate at her as she lay on the bed was the doctor's diagnosis that morning. - She's pregnant, he had exclaimed half-credulously, staring down at her in cold way he had.

- That's impossible, she had uttered angrily. I've not ever been with a man. And has she had said the words they became like pebbles and fell from her mouth lifeless and hard.

- You must be mistaken, doctor, Sister Ignatius said. But the doctor repeated the tests repeatedly and the result was the same: she was with child, to use his words. The words, with child, echoed in her ears. The impossibility of the fact for her did not make the fact less of a fact. The tests were, the doctor had muttered, conclusive. And she, a nun, vowed chaste and a virgin for all that, was with child. She turned over in the bed and the hard springs released a cacophony like an ill-written symphony.

- I have not been with any man, she said in a barely audible whisper. And she hadn't. Not even at university where she was deemed beautiful and leered at by the male students and a few females who found her desirable.

But the words, with child, repeated themselves as she lay staring at the window just above the bed. Her hands moved slowly and rested on her abdomen. Feeling across the flesh beneath her stiff nightdress she felt for some sigh of movement, some signal that it was all a mistake and the doctor a fool. But all was still, apart from gurgling from her intestines, starved and complaining.

Only Sister Scholastica, she mused darkly, had listened to her intently and seemed to believe her. The others who came and visited all had that look about their eyes or lips which expressed doubt.
Mother Abbess had been understanding and kind, but even she, Sister Felicity sensed, had her doubts. They believed she had somehow, sometime or other, been with a man. She, they possibly whispered, had lied, had deceived, was no longer a virgin, no longer chaste. And with this she began to cry. Not a loud cry, but a soft childlike whimper like a child who had been beaten or scolded for a deed they'd not committed. Seven years, she sobbed quietly to herself, I've been here. Seven years a nun. Seven years and now they doubt.

With child, the doctor had said. Facts are facts, he'd added after her denials. And she recalled the words of another young innocent woman two millenniums before who had said, I am a virgin, but was found to be with child. But she blushed to even consider such a comparison. No angel had appeared to her to announce such a miracle, no such annunciation, Sister Felicity mused tearfully, pulling the rough blanket over her shoulder. The bell rang for the Angelus and she recited her prayers through her tears like a child disciplined though innocent. Then moments later the bells rang loudly for the end of the Compline. Silence was now master. The Grand Silence came down like a dark curtain, shutting out light. The words, with child, entered that silence and were swallowed up, and left behind a numbness like a creeping death.

- It's all a matter of faith, Sister Scholastica had said to her that evening after supper. Faith and doubt are the two roads. You must have faith, Sister Felicity. Whatever happens, whatever comes, have faith. And she had hoped for some sign, but none came. Doubt in the faces of her sisters had wounded her. Doubt was easy. Faith was hard. And she wished that Sister Scholastica were there now. Was there beside her. But there was only the darkness and the snoring sounds from the invalids around the room. She closed her eyes and felt the dampness. A matter of faith, she reached for the words. They were hard to grasp; kept slipping through her fingers like grains of sand.

- Leave the why and how to God, Sister Scholastica whispered to her. All He wants is your faith and fiat, she added. Darkness was double darkness behind her closed eyes, and on opening them, saw, standing over her, Sister Scholastica, smiling benignly, like an angel, but wingless; with an aura that weakened darkness and embraced once more the Grand Silence.

© 2012 Terry Collett


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Added on November 7, 2012
Last Updated on November 7, 2012
Tags: NUNS, PREGANCY, WNCLOSED, MYSTERY

Author

Terry Collett
Terry Collett

United Kingdom



About
Terry Collett has been writing since 1971 and published on and off since 1972. He has written poems, plays, and short stories. He is married with eight children and eight grandchildren. on January 27t.. more..

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