Embracing Darkness by Christopher D. Roe Read Free Book Online Page B

aback by her choice of vocabulary. “‘ Hell’ and ‘damn’ are certainly not words a sister of Christ should be using ,” he thought as the two of them continued staring at the rug.
    “Yes, it is remarkable,” he added, “as is the table. I say, is it solid oak?”
    “That table is a piece of shit!” Sister Ignatius interjected, seemingly angrier at Father Poole’s comment than at the table itself.
    Stunned, the young priest tried to change the subject: “I-I… th-the, uhm… Y-you know this… .”
    She leaned forward slightly and showed him her ear. “Either you are a carbon copy of our former head priest, seeing as how you seem to vocalize your views, or… .” Father Poole shrank at the thought of what opinionated remark would follow that “or.”
    She continued, “You are so famished after your arrival that you haven’t the energy to organize your thoughts clearly. Come! I will take you to the other side of this door. It’s the kitchen. I’ll introduce you to the cook. She’s a fragile creature with a heart of gold. She likes the doors closed when she cooks. It keeps the smoke out of the rest of the house. And as long as we’re doing introductions… .” She paused.
    Father Poole assumed she had done so that he might introduce himself. “Yes, of course, Sister. I am Father Phineas Poo… .”
    Sister Ignatius interrupted again. “You are Father Phineas Poole. You have been a priest for five years. You come to us from St. Luke’s over in Exeter, where you were the youngest of twelve priests. With no room for vertical mobility, you were offered the job by Manchester, and you grabbed it. I believe that is all I need to know for now. The rest can wait. I am Sister Mary Ignatius of the Sisters of the Humble Shepherd. No doubt you’ve heard all about me from Father Carroll.”
    Father Poole joked that he had heard more about her, which wasn’t very much, than of the Sisters of the Humble Shepherd. He was going to ask where her order originated, but she continued before he could get out the question.
    “I am the head and only sister at St. Andrew’s and your subordinate. You may dictate to me anything you wish, and I will do my level best to fulfill any and all obligations you expect me to carry out. I am not blind to the fact that most, if not all, priests run things differently. Naturally, with the exception of holding church services, feel free to charge me with duties you yourself would be unable to perform. I am confident that groundskeeper Hobbs, Mrs. Keats, and I will see to your needs as well as to the needs of St. Andrew’s.”
    Father Poole was surprised to hear the word “groundskeeper.” No longer would he have to worry about how he was going to find the time to trim the lawn, paint the church, and prune the bushes and shrubs. At the same time it worried him that no one had prepared him to take over St. Andrew’s, as neither Manchester nor Father Carroll had provided much orientation.
    Aside from this concern, Father Poole recognized that at least now he had a name to go with the cook. A revelation occurred to him that this situation might not be as awful as at first it had appeared. He reflected on this first encounter with Sister Ignatius and assumed that Father Carroll’s secrecy about what she would be like probably had to do with her unorthodox tongue.
    “Uh,” Father Poole began. “Don’t you think that perhaps you should first show me the sanctuary and altar?”
    Still with her back to him, Sister Ignatius muttered, “Do you think it’s necessary right this minute?”
    Not expecting this sort of answer from someone who should have been as pious as he, Father Poole continued, “I… Don’t you think I should take a quick tour of the sanctuary? After all, isn’t that why I’m here?”
    The Sister’s manner seemed to turn somewhat hostile after so trivial a question. “Well, Father. Today is Wednesday. Besides, once you’ve been in one church… .” She