Punkers, Jesus, and the Fake Nun (from PUNK MINNEAPOLS)

A Story by Peter Joseph Swanson

an excerpt from my novel

This is an excerpt from my published novel (paperback and kindle) PUNK MINNEAPOLIS:

They rang the bell of the convent and a grungy looking man opened the door.

“Ya?”

A woman with a round Down’s syndrome face rushed up beside him and asked in a very soft voice, “Is my mom here?”

“No,” he told her and returned his attention to the three women. “What?”

“This isn’t a convent anymore, is it,” Sandra observed.

“If you all want to be nuns, yeah, you’re too late.” He looked them up and down, and smiled tightly.

“We’re looking for a nun,” Sandra explained.

He pointed to the office. “Try there.” He put his hands on his hips and said like Mae West, “I can’t be a nun. I’m not a virgin.”

“Thank you.” They crossed the street, feeling dumb.

“What was that scary place?” Becky asked.

“A group home for retards, obviously,” Bunny Umber said.

Becky shuddered. “Oooooweeeeee, that’s really freaky. What a freaky idea!”

Sandra said, “I think it’s good they have such a nice place to live. They have to be taken care of somehow.” They walked into the church office. “Hi,” Sandra said to the secretary.

The woman glanced up at them from her word processor, saw that they looked very punk, and was not impressed. “Loaves and Fishes is in the school basement.”

“No, we’re not here for welfare,” Bunny Umber said. “We want to ask about a nun you all have.”

“No nuns around here anymore. Except for the imposter.”

Bunny Umber asked, “The crazy nun?”

“You nailed her.”

“She’s not really a nun?”

“Nope,” the secretary said. “She just picked up her outfit at the Catholic supply store and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

Bunny Umber asked, “But how can you let a fake nun just run around fooling everybody? How can you allow that?”

“There’s no law against it. If there was, there’d be more than a few arrests every Halloween. She runs around looking like a nun and we can’t do a thing about it. Nowadays people can run around looking like anything they want.”

Sandra asked, “How do you know about her?”

“Everybody does. She just seems to be out and about, and is everywhere.

She’s kind of a neighborhood institution, like that homeless man with the big red beard. You ever seen him around? Every neighborhood needs its crazies. It’s the special people like that who give the city its soul of Jesus. Jesus is in the weary and downtrodden. Jesus is in every addict, hooker, and car thief and don’t you forget it.”

Becky asked, “Is Jesus in every punker?”

“Right down to your punk rock fingernails.”