THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - CHAPTER FIVE - { PART 3 }

CHAPTER  FIVE  -  The next day as he passed through the abbey forecourt, he saw the Abbess, Sister Celeste, and Father Cavallo chatting outside the admin office. Hello, Father, called out the Abbess. Are you well today? Fully recovered, thank you! I shall see you in the chapel shortly, said Father Cavallo. He nodded and walked on. A few moments later, he paced the aisle towards the Virgin sculpture. With yesterday's events still weighing on his mind, he dropped limply onto the front pew and heard a faint rustle. He turned to his side to find that he had sat on a piece of paper. He picked it up and blinked as if his eyes deceived him. He was looking at himself. Each boldly drawn line flowed masterfully into the next, flawlessly incorporating light and shade in a complexity of strokes that formed a sketch that was as lifelike as staring into a mirror. With the drawing in his hand, he left the chapel and walked hurriedly into the cloister, where he looked round in all directions. Two nuns sitting in meditation were the only people to be seen. He continued towards the kitchen, carefully opened the door and peered inside. Sister Immaculata and the other nuns, who were preparing lunch, looked at him questioningly. He shut the door in disappointment, looked again at the portrait and marvelled at its brilliance. The door to the recreation room swung open and three nuns entered the hallway. They each greeted him with a nod.                                                       ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- { PART. 2 } - He smiled and nodded in return as he took hold of the door and entered the room. The scent of fresh herbs wafted through the open patio doors, mingling with the mouth-watering vestiges of syrupy coffee. Across the way, in the orchard, Angelica sat on the grass, sketching. He made his way towards her, stopped unnoticed behind her, and continued to watch fascinated as she added the finishing touches to her drawing of a golden, fuzzy bumblebee in rhythmic union with a flaming poppy. Bees. . . he said. startled, she turned her head and raised herself from the ground. I didn't mean to alarm you. He pointed to her drawing which now lay discarded on the ground. The providers of God's sweet nectar. Such intelligent creatures. Did you know that they have super-vision? Take a television screen, for example. To us the images are fluid, but a bee can differentiate each individual frame. Angelica smiled. Also, so much of the foods and beverages we enjoy would not be possible without them. Take coffee, for example, and watermelon... Her smile turned into a soundless giggle. He stopped and looked a little embarrassed. Was she gently mocking him? He quickly changed the subject. You drew this, didn't you? He held the sketch up. She nodded. It's a masterpiece. Where did you learn to draw like this? There was no reply, just a stare with eyes now soft and welcoming. After a short silence, she pointed to her mouth and waved her finger as she shook her head. You have taken a vow of silence? She removed a whiteboard from beneath her sketchpad and with a black marker began to write on the board.                                                     ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------- { PART. 3 } - Christiano's eyes widened in wonderment. When she had finished her scribble, she held it up before him. He mouthed the words on the board. I lost my voice in childhood. Oh, I'm sorry, he replied. What happened? She took a step back, crossed her arms over her body and averted her gaze to anywhere but Christiano. Angelica! sang a voice that interrupted their exchange. They turned to see Sister Immaculata in the herb garden. Hello, Father, did you find what you were looking for? His face flushed. Angelica I'm in need of your help. She walked towards them, looking suspiciously at Christiano. Sorry to interrupt, Father Abbadelli. I have been searching for this girl everywhere. Angelica, you were supposed to be helping in the kitchen. We spoke of this yesterday. Whatever is the matter with you lately? Bring yourself over here and collect some vegetable and herbs for lunch and dinner. She shook her head. Excuse us, Father. The nun continued to berate Angelica as they walked away, wagging her finger at her. You know, Angelica, it is with idle hands bidding... Her voice trailed away, but the familiar words spoken only yesterday in confession rose to his throat like vomit.                                                                                                    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------