My gift from God

-a maidenly love story or a family story without relations

2000 © Katta

PART 3

When sister Ruth ran into sister Bridget a few days later and the nun called her, she was startled. Surely she hadn’t been told already. She had assumed that they wouldn’t tell sister Bridget until the bet was over, but maybe sister Martha had thought differently.
“Yes?” she said. “What is it?”
“I just wondered if you know what Buck Cross has been doing lately?”
This was tricky. What was she supposed to say?
“What do you mean, ‘been doing’?”
“Well, he’s cut class a lot.” Sister Bridget looked troubled, but her eyes glittered when she continued: “Of course, I’ve heard that some teachers have problems keeping the children in class, but I never had.” She got serious again. “He’s always been very dedicated before.”
“Yes.” It did sound very unlike Buck. She had always thought that he knew the value of education. “Doesn’t he come to class at all?”
“Oh, yes! It’s only a few times a week he stays away. Actually,it’s almost always Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons.”
Sister Ruth gave a sudden cry and quickly put her hand to her mouth.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She silently cursed her own stupidity. At first she had tutored Ike in the evenings, but she had free periods Tuesday mornings and Thursday afternoons, and she had found no reason why Ike shouldn’t come at that time as well. No reason, except that Buck of course had his own classes. Why hadn’t she thought of that?
“You know”, she said, “if I see him, I’ll tell him to come back to class.”
“Alright”, agreed sister Bridget. “Take it easy on him, though. I want him to come back by his own free will, not by force.”
Sister Ruth nodded and marched through the corridors down the stairs to look for Buck outside.
“Hello!” Sister Martha joined her. “What are you up to? You look mighty angry.”
“I’m looking for Buck.”
“Why?”
“To tell him off.”
“At the risk of sounding nagging: Why?”
“Because he has been neglecting his own classes to attend Ike’s. Can you believe that?” For the first time she looked directly at sister Martha.
“I believe anything of that boy. Especially that he would rather be with his best friend than take care of his own education. Not that it isn’t stupid of him. Can I go with you?”
Sister Ruth laughed. “Sure.”
They met Buck by the entrance, where he and Ike were on their way out.
“Buck Cross!” shouted sister Ruth. The boy turned around, surprised at the harsh tone of voice. The nun continued: “Come here, young man, I want a word with you!”
He came up to her, not knowing what to expect.
“I hear you have been cutting class.”
“I’ve been with you and Ike.”
“That’s no excuse! What do you think you’re doing? Your education is important, don’t you get that?”
Ike tried to defend his friend: <<We needed him for the translation.>>
Sister Ruth shook her head.
“Don’t tell me you knew about this.”
<<Of course I did.>> Ike seemed surprised that this could be questioned. <<I’m not stupid. Everybody has classes at that time of day.>>
“Which makes me the one that should have known better. Did you really think that I would agree to something like that?”
<<No.>>
“No. That’s why we didn’t tell you.”
Sister Ruth turned helplessly to her colleague and raised her arms.
“Help me out here”, she pleaded. “I don’t know what to do with them.”
“I only understood half of this conversation, but very well.” Sister Martha clashed her hands together. “Now, Buck! Not even Samaritans are allowed to do anything they want to do. It’s your duty to take care of your education, is that clear?”
Buck just looked at her, and said:
“What’s a Samaritan?”
“Oh, no!” Sister Martha grimaced. “Don’t tell me sister Joan is your teacher in religion as well.”
“Yes. What’s a Samaritan?”
She waved the question away.
“We’ll talk about that some other time. Right now I want you to promise me you’ll stop cutting class.”
Buck shrugged.
“They need me for translation.”
“I think we can get by”, said sister Ruth mildly, and sister Martha continued:
“I’m sure you’re not indispensable. Ike can do without you there, can’t you, Ike?”
Ike grinned and nodded, and the nun turned back to Buck.
“See? You have no excuse, and you have to obey me, because I’m older, wiser and bigger than you!”
Buck raised an eyebrow, and the shadow of a smile flickered in the corner of his mouth.
“Older - certainly. Wiser - maybe. But bigger? I don’t think so.”
He straightened his back and looked sister Martha into her eyes.
“He is taller than you, Martha”, said sister Ruth calmly.
“No! He can’t be!” Sister Martha’s eyes turned to Ike for a second opinion.
<<They look the same size to me.>>
“What did he say?”
“The same size.”
“No!” Sister Martha seemed very upset. “I’m taller! I have to be, I’m an adult!” She looked at Buck with knitted eyebrows. “You’re just a child!”
“How old are you now, Buck?” asked sister Ruth. Her voice was patient.
“Fourteen.”
She nodded. That confirmed what she had thought.
“Take off your shoes, we’ll measure.”
Sister Ruth went into a nearby classroom and reappeared with a bible and a pencil.
“Martha, stand by the door-post. Ike, come here, you’re going to check that I hold the book straight.”
She put the book on Martha’s head, drew a line under it at the door-post and marked the line with an M. Then she did the same with Buck, and afterwards everybody turned to look at the marks.
“Not that half an inch matters much”, said sister Ruth. “But he is taller than you.”
“You must have held the bible wrong!”
Sister Ruth looked at Ike, who shook his head.
“Sorry, sister”, said Buck and smiled.
Martha looked at him and pouted.
“How can this be?” she said. “You were my baby!”
“Your what!?” Buck sounded shocked, and sister Ruth laughed.
“I don’t think she meant that literally, dear”, she said. “She’s just a little surprised at how fast you two grow.”
“He was shorter than me a few months ago!”
“Boys in the early teens grow very fast.” Sister Ruth smiled at her friend’s attempt to prove right, and then she turned back to Buck.
“Now that this is settled: Will you please go back to class anyway?”
“Of course.”
The tone of “that goes without saying” was so apparent in his voice that it amused her and gave her the courage to kiss his cheek.
“I love you”, she said. “And you”, she continued and repeated the procedure with Ike. The she turned to sister Martha and said: “It seems like our mission here is done, sister. Care to leave?”
“Well, certainly!”
When the two nuns had left, Buck looked after them and shook his head.
“They are so weird!” he said.
Ike smiled. <<I like them.>>
“Sure, me too, but they’re definitely weird. In a good way.”
<<Like us.>>
“Hm.”
Meanwhile, sister Martha asked sister Ruth:
“Was it Indian signs Ike was using?”
“Yes. Buck taught him that.”
“I was right, wasn’t I? The priest and the Levite passed him by… God, I love those boys!”
Sister Ruth laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. After a while she asked:
“Do you want to withdraw that bet we made?”
“Never!”
“But you’re not as sure anymore, are you?”
Sister Martha chuckled.
“I was never one hundred percent sure. Just think of me as a representative of the outer world.”

Buck did what he had promised and stopped cutting, but he kept turning up at Ike’s classes during recess. The fatigue that sister Ruth had felt at first disappeared when Ike started to make real progress, until that day came when he turned in what he had written, and she read it through and then cried out in joy.
“Do you know what this is?” she cried when he looked astonished. “It’s proof, that’s what it is!”
She left the classroom without even saying goodbye and ran through the corridors up the stairs.
This was late in the afternoon, so Buck was there too, and Ike turned to him with a troubled look on his face.
<<That didn’t mean what I think it meant, did it?>>
“I think she’s going to show it to people”, answered Buck
Ike sighed. <<Couldn’t she at least have asked me first?>>
Buck leant forward.
“When was the last time any adult - even she - ever asked for our permission to do something?”
Ike made a wry face.

Sister Ruth found sister Martha in the sitting-room, which was rather crowded; the nuns had gathered to complain over the day’s miseries. But today, the number of people didn’t bother her at all. She simply went up to sister Martha, handed her the sheet of paper and said:
“Read it and weep!”
Sister Martha glanced at the sheet.
“What’s this?”
“It’s twenty washing-ups, what does it look like?”
The other nuns stopped what they were doing at this remark and looked surprised at sister Ruth, but she kept her eyes focused on sister Martha’s face until the reading was done.
“Well?” she asked.
Sister Martha grinned.
“Well, I’ll be damned!”
“Martha!”
Mother Helen was shocked at this inappropriate remark.
“Forgive me mother, but this is really something!” Sister Martha raised her voice and looked around the room. “Ike McSwain has spent the last six years in the schoolyard when the others were in class, because some smartass had decided that he was uneducable! In less than six months, sister Ruth has proved that smartass wrong!” She looked at sister Ruth, and her face turned a little less enthusiastic.
“And I owe you twenty washing-ups. Yuk. But it’s worth it.”
“Let me take a look at that!” Sister Joan suddenly pulled the sheet of paper from sister Martha’s hand. “ ‘Isabuterfli…’ This is nonsense!”
“No it’s not!” Sister Martha took it back and gave it to sister Bridget.
“You’re our judge, is this nonsense?”
Sister Bridget read out loud:
“ ‘I saw a butterfly yesterday by the stable. It didn’t look like any butterfly I have seen before. It was bright red and blue, and if it had been white as well it would have looked almost like a flag.’ ” The latest sentence brought a smile to her face. “ ‘I wanted to catch it to show it to you, because it was so beautiful, but then I changed my mind. I thought that maybe if I caught it I would kill it by accident, and that would have been a pity. So instead, I’m telling you about it in this essay.’ ”
She stopped reading and said:
“Apart from the spelling it’s pretty good. Or at least it would have been, had it been a Latin inscription. How difficult is it to teach a kid to make space between words?”
“It didn’t seem important at the time”, answered sister Ruth.
“It isn’t important!” Sister Martha was very impatient. “What’s important is, is he retarded or not?”
“Absolutely not!” said sister Bridget resolutely. “It’s a perfectly fine first essay written by a perfectly normal kid of thirteen.”
“You don’t think…” Mother Helen looked apologizing at sister Ruth. “I don’t mean to sound suspicious, but you don’t think anyone could have helped him?”
“I watched him write it”, said sister Ruth, somewhat irritated.
“Of course that’s what you would say”, remarked sister Joan with a snort.
Sister Bridget looked amused.
“I take it you’re referring to Buck?”
Mother Helen nodded.
“Buck doesn’t write like this.” Sister Bridget was very certain she was right. “He’s a perfectionist. His sentences are short, and there are hardly ever any errors in them. To write something like this would be against his philosophy.”
“I believe you.” Mother Helen rose and looked around. “Which leads me to an obvious question. How could this happen? How dare we call ourselves Christians when we have neglected this boy for six years? Who’s supposed to be his teacher? I know it’s not sister Ruth.”
Sister Elizabeth hesitated and then raised her hands.
“If he’s thirteen and has been here for six years he’s my kid. Not that he has ever been to any of my classes.”
“Well, why not?” Mother Helen was beginning to lose her temper.
“His first teacher kicked him out.” Sister Ruth spoke in a low tone of voice, but everyone heard what she said.
“I did not!” said sister Joan indignantly.
Sister Martha burst into laughter, and Joan went from indignated to absolutely furious.
“I remember having him in my class. I wasn’t too happy about it, but I know my duty. I would never say anything like that.”
“You never told him anything, if I know you right”, said sister Martha sourishly.
“That’s enough, Martha”, warned mother Helen. “Joan, if you didn’t kick him out, who did?”
“Oh, dear”, said sister Cecily.
Everyone turned to her and she losed color. She was a rather tall nun who always crouched a bit, and she hardly ever expressed an opinion of her own.
“I didn’t mean to!” she pleaded. “He got into a fight, and… well, the other children were a bit hostile, so I let him leave the classroom and said that he didn’t have to come back. I didn’t mean for him to take it like that!”
“How did you expect him to take it?” asked sister Martha with contempt.
“Well, I thought there wasn’t any harm done! After all, he was… that is, I thought… I don’t know!”
She looked very miserable, and sister Martha clicked her tongue.
“I can’t believe we compare his intelligence to this.”
“Martha!”
Mother Helen had definitely crossed the line now, and sister Martha looked startled.
“That sounds terribly like ‘go to your cell’.”
“Well, why don’t you? We’ll fill you in on the details.” Mother Helen watched sister Martha so closely that the nun found it best to leave the room.

Then she said: “It appears to me that we’re all a bunch of jackasses. Possibly with the exception of sister Ruth. What gave you the idea to do this?”
“It wasn’t my idea. He asked me.”
“He…” Mother Helen looked puzzled, and sister Ruth added:
“Buck has taught him Indian signs.”
Mother Helen buried her head in her hands and shook her head slowly.
“Just call me mother Jackass”, she said. “Sister Ruth, I’ll question him tomorrow. If everything works out fine, I’ll transfer him to sister Bridget’s class.”
Sister Ruth felt a stitch of something frightfully close to jealousy.
“Sister Bridget, is that alright?”
“What?” asked sister Bridget and looked up from the essay. She was laughing silently to herself, and mother Helen looked intrigued.
“What’s so funny?”
“I just remembered Lavender Brown.”
The name needed no further presentation. Everybody was familiar with Lavender Brown. Only last week she had gotten into her head that she would take away the nest that some bird had made on the chimney. A sweet gesture, certainly, but the nun that found the little girl standing on the roof of a four-storey building almost got a heart attack.
Sister Bridget laughed as she explained:
“It was a thing she did a couple of years ago, I don’t know why I recalled it right now. She had found a piece of chalk and drew a line on the corridor wall. Now, the kids draw on the walls sometimes, that’s not such a big deal, but she had drawn a line across the entire wall, all the way along the corridor.”
“I remember that”, said one of the nuns. “It took us quite a while to wash the wall.”
“Yes!” Sister Bridget shook her head. “I asked her why she did it, and she said, ‘I thought it was so exciting that the chalk made a mark on the wall’.
‘But why did you draw such a long line?’ I asked. You know what she said? ‘I just wanted to see if it would keep doing it all the way’!”
They all laughed at this. Sister Bridget looked at sister Ruth, very thoughtful.
“I don’t know what reminded me of that. It was something…”
“God help us if he’s anything like Lavender Brown!” someone said.
“I don’t know about that.” Mother Helen smiled. “I kind of like Lavender Brown.”

Sister Ruth gave a start when the door opened, but when she found out it was only sister Martha, she almost got angry.
”What do you want?” she asked.
Sister Martha whistled.
”I’m apparently not welcome! I just wanted to wish you two luck.” Her eyes set on Ike, she continued: ”And to apologize to you.”
Ike was puzzled. <<Why?>>
”Why? Blimey… For taking the wrong side in that stupid bet.” She touched his chin and grinned. ”Now, show her what you’ve got, honey! I’ve got to go to class.”
And she left just as suddenly as she had come. The next time the door opened it was actually mother Helen, but then sister
Ruth had already lost some of her nervousness.
”Well, then, shall we get started?” the abbess said. She was the only one who didn’t seem about to start biting her nails, but then again, she had no reason to. She sat down on a chair and opened a book that she put in front of Ike, and then she clapped her hands and took a deep breath.
”Alright, then! Sister Ruth, will you move away a bit, to the window perhaps? It’s not that I don’t trust you, but some people might appreciate if we make this 100 per cent certain.”
Sister Ruth opened her mouth to object, but closed it again. She saw the point in the arrangement.
Mother Helen seemed unusually cheerful.
”Ike, I want you to read this story through and then retell it to me in your own words.” She stopped, closed her eyes and sighed. ”Signs. Obviously. When you have done that, we will discuss the story. Everything clear?”
He nodded.
”Get started, then.”
After a while, Ike looked up and met mother Helen’s eyes.
”Are you finished? Good. Then tell me what this story is about.”
<<The sun and the wind were fighting>>, he signed.
Sister Ruth translated this and then added: ”Reverand mother, I should tell you that I have heard this story.”
”That’s alright, we don’t have to exaggerate this. Go on, Ike.”
<<They wanted to know who was the stronger, so they decided to have a...>> He hesitated. He didn’t know any sign for ”contest” yet. He went up to the blackboard and wrote it there. Mother Helen nodded.
”Mhm. What kind of a contest?”
<<They saw a man below, who was wearing a coat. They decided that the one who could take the coat off the man was the stronger. The wind started, and it blew at the man, harder and harder, but the more it blew, the more the man held on to his coat. Finally, the wind had to give up, and then the sun tried. It shone on the man, who got really warm, and then even warmer>>, Ike’s eyes glittered, and he was really involved in the story now, acting it out as every storyteller should, <<and after a while the man unbuttoned his coat. But that didn’t help much. He started to sweat, and finally he took his coat off. The wind had to admit that the sun was stronger than him.>>
”Good! Very well told!” The abbess smiled at him and asked: ”What do you think this story is about? What did the person want to say, who made this story?”
Ike thought about this for a few seconds and then answered: <<That warmth will get you further than force.>>
”Do you think that’s true?”
<<Depends.>>
”On what?”
<<On what you want and who you’re dealing with. Sister Ruth is warm, and she doesn’t always get what she wants. And I’ve gotten things by fighting that I couldn’t get any other way.>>
Mother Helen put her chin on her clasped hands. ”If I’m not mistaken you have gotten quite a lot by fighting. Do you prefer force then, for yourself?”
He shook his head. <<No. I fight when everything else has failed. I would much rather be a warm person.>>
”And thank God for that!” added sister Ruth, which made the abbess laugh.
”Alright, Ike, then we’re finished. Tomorrow at half past eight I expect you to be in sister Bridget’s classroom - number five on the second floor.”
She rose and got ready to leave, but then stopped and her eyes looked out at nothing for a moment. Then she said: ”You might as well start your religious education immediately. Read chapter 12 of Paul’s letter to the Corinthians until next week and write down a few opinions on it.”
Sister Ruth looked thoughtful, and she didn’t move as the other two left the room. This made mother Helen return and ask:
”Is there something wrong, sister?”
”No… Well, I’m going to miss him terribly, but no. I was just wondering… I know chapter 13 is about love, but I can’t seem to remember what’s in chapter 12.”
”’And the eye cannot say unto the hand, I have no need of thee’ etcetera. Does that ring a bell?”
”Oh, of course!” Sister Ruth’s face lightened. ”That’s a lovely chapter.”

It was hard for sister Ruth to avoid a certain emptiness, even though she fought it intensely. This was what they wanted, this was what they had worked for, she ought to be happy. The thoughts possessed her to such an extent that she knitted four extra purls without even noticing at first. When she found out, she let an unfriendly remark leave her lips, only to bite them afterwards. It was hardly the knitting’s fault. Sister Martha sat down beside her.
”You know, there’s no law against feeling blue”, she said. ”Not that I know why you should. They’re still in school, it’s not as if he left the country!”
”It’s not that.” Sister Ruth kept her voice low; this was nobody else’s business.
”What is it, then?”
She was reluctant to tell, but couldn’t help herself:
”I miss feeling useful! I want to stay in that battle, do it all over again.”
”Then why don’t you?”
”With another child?” Sister Ruth shook her head. ”I couldn’t do that.”
”Why not? Just ’cause it’s another child it doesn’t mean it’s another battle.” She looked smiling, searching, at her friend. ”You look at this the wrong way. It wasn’t Ike that needed changing, it was the world around him. Me, for example. I think you’ve changed me quite a lot. I was taking things for granted and didn’t even know I was doing it!”
Sister Ruth looked confused by this attitude, so sister Martha dragged her to the window.
”Look at our boys!” she said and pointed down at the schoolyard.
Sister Ruth looked - and saw two young boys, far from the crowd.
”It’s still the two of them against the world”, said sister Martha from behind her back. ”No happy endings.”
”But they have us!” objected sister Ruth.
”They’ll always have us. But not meddling in their battles. Battle is battle, boy is boy.” She was very clearly teasing now.
”So what should we do, watch them from the third floor?”
”Why not?”
”What does that make us?”
”Sensible parents.”
Sister Ruth stared at her friend. Nobody had mentioned that word before.
Sister Martha’s eyes glittered.
”Well, nobody said we couldn’t play house with them.”
Sister Ruth moved closer to the soft bosom and said:
”Hello, Pa.”
Then they both burst into helpless giggle.

The years had gone by, and now Buck and Ike were standing in their last dormitorium, packing their few belongings. Buck sat don on his bed and grinned at the sight of his friend’s makeshift bag.
”You look like a bum”, he said.
Ike grinned back.
<<What are we then?>>
”Yeah, I guess…”
They quit the discussion for a minute as the nun on duty checked that the beds were ready to take new children.
”It looks good”, she said and nodded at them, neither friendly nor unfriendly. ”I hope you’ll think kindly of us wherever you may be.”
And so she left. The boys looked at each other, a bit bewildered.
”So…” said Buck. The unfinished sentence filled the air.
<<That’s it?>> asked Ike. <<Should we leave now?>>
”You certainly shouldn’t leave without saying good-bye”, said a mild voice from near the door.
They turned around and smiled at their old friend.
”We didn’t hear you coming, sister!” said Buck.
”Well, I have light feet”, said sister Ruth. She sobbed a bit as she hugged and kissed them.
”I’m going to miss you two very much!” she said.
Ike wiped her tears away. <<Don’t cry.>>
”I’m a grown woman and I’ll cry as much as I want, thank you very much!” answered sister Ruth.
”Where’s sister Martha?” asked Buck and looked around.
”In her cell. Doing what I do best.” Sister Ruth smiled through the tears. ”She hates good-byes. But she gives you this.”
She handed a small, leather-bound book to Buck, who looked at it and frowned.
”A prayer book?”
”It’s called a breviarium. It’s the daily prayers a nun is supposed to pray.” She smiled at his expression. ”Nobody’s trying to convert you, but you might as well know your options. Besides, apparently it’s one of her favourite books.”
She turned to Ike.
”And this is one of mine. Enjoy it.”
He found himself looking at a worn copy of Walter Scott’s ”Ivanhoe”. When he opened it, he saw an inscription on the title page, written in childish letters:
”To Ruthie from Mick on her birthday.”
Below, in a grown woman’s more sophisticated writing, it said:
”From Ruth to Ike McSwain. I’ll never forget you.”
Ike thanked the nun eagerly and turned to Buck. <<She dedicated it for me, isn’t that sweet?>>
Buck hurried to open his book to see if he had gotten a dedication too. He carefully read the strange Latin words out loud:
”Check the Com… Completorium for Nu… Nun…”
”Nunc Dimittis?” suggested sister Ruth.
”Yes. ’Love, Martha’. Why should I check it?”
”Because it’s her favourite prayer”, said sister Ruth and smiled. ”Now, would you mind terribly if I followed you down to the road and waved for as long as I can see you at all?”
<<Of course not.>>
”We would be honored.”
When sister Ruth had finished this task she wept a few more tears and then went inside the nuns’ private wing. She knocked on the door to sister Martha’s cell. Nobody answered, so she tried the handle, and the door swung open. Sister Martha was lying on her bed, crying wildly with her face buried in the pillow. Sister Ruth sat down beside her and softly stroke her head.
”There, there”, she said, as if she was talking to a very small child. ”At least we have still got each other. And for what it’s worth, I love you very, very much.”
The younger nun turned on her back and flung her arms around sister Ruth’s neck, the tear-rimmed face pressed against her.
”Don’t ever leave me”, she said.
”Oh, I won’t”, said sister Ruth calmly, and the tears started to come back into her own eyes as well. ”You won’t ever be rid of me.”
And there they sat, crying, holding each other. And they knew that the game had been the truth. They were a family.

The End

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