Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 515(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 343(@300wpm)
“Thank you,” Maria said. “What is it you want me to do?”
“We will explain everything. But first . . .” Father Quinn’s eyes narrowed as he stared at her headdress. “I am going to ask you to reveal your hair.”
Maria’s pulse thundered. “M-My hair? But it is to be hidden. My vows . . .”
“It is not sinful if I have asked. I’m your superior and demand this in God’s name,” Father Quinn said sternly. Both priests fell silent and waited for Maria to remove her headdress. Maria had not let down her hair in public for years. It was for her only. To be released in the privacy of her own room. But the priests still waited. Maria knew she was to obey, even if the order was difficult.
Her hands shook as she reached up and slowly removed the headdress. The pins in her bun came next, and Maria let her long hair fall from its captivity and flow down her back and over her bottom to the tops of her thighs.
“Stand please, sister.” Father Quinn’s voice was gravel. Maria got to her feet, eyes cast to the floor. “Turn around.” Maria did as instructed. She didn’t know what the priests wanted, or why they wanted to see her hair. There were no words spoken as the priests got to their feet and walked around her, assessing her.
“Yes,” Father Quinn said, a hint of excitement in his voice. “This will work very well.”
An hour later, Maria stood at the monastery’s gates. Father Quinn and Father Murray waited at the main doors of the building while Mother Superior came to speak to Maria. Sister Theresa took Maria’s hands. Concern was written all over her face. “My child, are you sure you want to do this?”
Unease flooded Maria’s heart, but she nodded her head and squeezed the older lady’s hands. “I am.”
Mother Superior stepped closer. “I don’t know what they have asked of you. Father Quinn doesn’t have to tell me. Nor do you. But I know how hard it will be for you to leave these gates.”
Maria dropped her eyes, but then raised them again to say, “Reverend Mother, you have worked with me for years to get me to this point. To where I have the courage to leave.”
“Are you sure you’re there?”
Maria wasn’t. She was honest with the woman who had been her rock since her first days as a postulant. “I’m sure I have to try. These priests are good men. They have been patient with me.” Maria attempted a weak smile. “You always wanted me to entertain the idea of missionary work outside of these walls.”
Mother Superior sighed. Hugging Maria, she whispered, “Be careful, child. I’ll see you when you return.” She left Maria without another word and went to speak to Father Quinn. Maria watched her go with a lump in her throat.
“Are you okay?” Father Murray asked as he came to stand beside her, the cold wind seeping into the very depths of her bones. Maria kept her focus on the iron gates, and the lock that was firmly in place.
“I haven’t been beyond these gates in nearly five years,” she revealed, for once not caring if she sounded weak and cowardly. The outside world scared her. That was the honest truth. She would never lie.
“We will look after you,” Father Murray said again. Maria smiled up at the young priest. “I promise,” he assured her. “You have my vow.” She knew she did. Father Murray was a good priest. He loved his church and faith. She could see it in his face.
“Thank you. I trust you. I trust you both.” With that said, Mother Superior opened the heavy lock, and Fathers Quinn and Murray stepped over the threshold to a waiting car. With a kiss for Mother Superior, and a soft farewell, Maria stepped over too, ready to sacrifice herself for Christ.
However that may be.
*****
Maria didn’t recognize herself in the mirror. She wore a black dress that fell to mid-thigh. The immodest skintight material showed off her every curve. Maria had not worn anything form-fitting since she was a young teen, and even then it was nothing like this. A thick layer of makeup had been painted on her face by a lady the priests had hired under the guise of Maria being a regular girl about to celebrate her twenty-first birthday with her brother and father.
The stylist had curled her hair, making it glossy and voluminous. The curls shortened the length slightly, but only by an inch or so. Large silver hoops were clipped on her unpierced ears. Her blue eyes stood out against the black kohl liner and mascara that rimmed them. Bright red lipstick and black high heels completed the look. Maria’s skin was fair, and the dress strategically hid all of her scars. The scent of roses drifted up her nose from the strong perfume Father Quinn had given her to wear on her neck and wrists.