THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - ( CHAPTER THIRTEEN ) - { PART. 9 }

( CHAPTER  THIRTEEN )  -  { PART.  1 }                                        Sister Celeste ran desperately along the beach until her knees gave away under her. Though she had distanced herself from the tragedy behind her, she had laboured for every cumbersome step. The sand had swallowed one foot after the other in a relentless battle. To muffle her wailing, she cupped her face with her hands and bent low to press them in the sand. There she remained until a wave lapped at her fingertips and wetted her face. The water's chill quietened her crying. The soothing sounds of the rippling tide acted as a natural sedative, filtering through her body and numbering her senses. She started into the darkness at the veiled night spreading infinitely before her. The moon poked its head through the misty sky. No sooner had she registered its light, it was gone; claimed by a drifting cloud. She nodded as if it had spoken to her. tranced, she stood up, removed her shoes and walked to the water's edge.                              --------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART.  2 } - The lapping foam danced at her feet, enticing her in. The deeper she waded, the higher the level rose, until her garments reached her chest in a wheel of black. though her body trembled and her teeth chattered, she continued, farther, deeper. The ocean welcomed her in with playful splashes until the sand beneath her feet disappeared and her survival instincts forced her to tread flowed down her cheeks and reached the end of her chin. They dropped into the ocean to return home in a perpetual flow, as she would. Beneath her, the ocean depths felt endless. The sea's expanse seemed infinite, its power, terrifying. It had been a long while since she had swum. She remembered being fifteen when her life had turned to hell. Exhausted and breathless, her eyelids leaden and her legs ponderous, she paddled deeper, adding more distance between her and the shore. The nuns lamenting sounds were now inaudible; the crowd seemed ant-sized, and the siren lights were a distant blur. She was hypnotised by the infinitesimal flashing lights; her eyelids were closing, closing. Her legs ceased moving. In a moment of pure surrender, the water--like the hand of a mermaid reaching to embrace her--pulled her beneath the sea, where she drifted with the will of the current.            ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  { PART.  3 } - SISTER CELESTE HAD MANAGED: - so evade Philippe, despite pursuit. With all the commotion at the convent, he had left his half-filled bottle of whisky by Neptune's fountain. Nevertheless, the chilling events had sobered even the alcohol running through his veins. He rushed along the beach, panicked and distraught, reliving the moments of his family tragedy--the images of the drowned bodies of his wife and boys were all too strong in his mind. He had been at the graves of his sons when he received the call that a woman had been found floating in the ocean. He had rushed to the fishing port in time to see the fisherman, who had discovered his wife's corpse, carry her to shore. Her water logged face and bulging eyes rendered her unrecognisable. He saw his twins again on slabs at the morgue, their fifteen-year-old corpses battered by the storm's thrashing waves. The visions were a harrowing reminder of his loss. He forced himaelf to focus on finding Sister Celeste. The feeling that she had chosen the same fate as his wife, Clarissa, was overwhelming. As he scurried along the beach, he looked up at the cloudy sky and came to a breathless stop.                                            _____________________________________________________      { PART.  4 } - His wife's face appeared in his mind once more. Consumed with despair, he fell to his knees. Clarissa! he cried. Why, why did you do it? He sobbed into his hands. I'm sorry! I'm sorry I let you and the boys down. I loved you all so much! His wailing intensified; his face buried in his hands as he finally allowed himself to feel every ounce of his repressed grief over the deaths of his loved ones. As he sat in inconsolable mourning, a beam of light filtered through his fingers and caught his eye. He looked up to see a gibbous moon fight its way through the clouds. It beamed a narrow path onto the surface of the ocean--like an arrow guiding his way. His eyes followed the lit path, just in time to see Sister Celeste slip beneath the water, where she remained. He sprang into action, running into the sea and swimming along the ray of light before diving to its depths. His eyes were of little use as he waved his hands around the murky waters in the hopes of catching a tuft of hair; a feel of her clothing; a glide across her cheek, her arm, a hand; anything. Nothing but liquid slipped through his fingers.                                   ______________________________________________________   { PART.  5 } - He came up for a quick breath and submerged again. This time he made more pronounced strokes and kicked harder to reach deeper. As he blindly grasped around, something swept the back of his hand. With a swift grabbing motion, he managed to close his fist around what fist around what felt like fabric. He gave a strong tug, relieved to feel the weight of the sister behind it. As she drew closer, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to shore. The clouds had cleared, making way for the radiant glory of the stars and the moon, now lending full visibility to the beach. He laid her down on the sand and put his cheek to her mouth. The chill of her blue-tinged lips felt cold against his skin. Sister Celeste! He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave her a shake. There was no response. He proceeded on her chest, maintaining the pressure of several compressions, until her eyes shot open and she coughed and spurted a fountain of water from her mouth. Relieved, he sat up and tried to normalise his breathing. The sister was momentarily be wildered.                                                                                               _______________________________________________________

{ PART.  6 } - Her eyes searched around and finally fixed their blurry gaze on the man straddled over her. You! she said. Are you okay? he replied. She grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. What did you do? I saved your life. She pushed him off her and scrambled to her feet. You had no right interfering in something that was none of your business. Stay out of this! She dashed for the ocean once more. He dived at her feet and knocked her to the ground. Get off me, she yelled as she kicked her legs. He pulled her away from the water's edge and moved his face close to hers. Stop this madness! Sister Celeste recoiled; her face contorted in disgust. It's my right you drunken fool. You wreak of the devil's drink. Philippe sat up; his gaze lowered in shame. At least I have the courage to put an end of my life, she said. You drown yourself in alcohol every day. A coward's death. He looked into her eyes. A slow painful death. The one I deserve. So we both want to die. Not anymore. I have seen the truth. The nonsensical words of a drunkard, snapped Sister Celeste. Then tell me why the sky has been as black as space all night, and the moment your head entered the water, the moon shone its light on your exact spot? I believe God showed me where you were so that I could save you.                                                                                      ______________________________________________________    ( PART.  7 } - What for? He's never cared much for me. Because your life is of value. She sniggered. The moon shone for me too; a message that I should end my life. You saw your own intention, and yours alone. Your interpretation is no more valid than mine. A nun with no faith. Go away before I scream. And bring attention to yourself. He looked towards the distant crowd. I'm sure the police will want to question you. She turned to see that an ambulance had arrived at the scene. The police were questioning people. The huddled nuns consoled each other. The familiar ache of guilt swelled in her guts. She wrapped her arms around her legs, and the tears ignited once more. We're both drenched, said Philippe. He felt the coldness of his clothing against his skin. We need to get out of these wet clothes and warm our bodies. Sister Celeste ignored him. She wiped the silent tears from her eyes and stared out to sea. Philippe sat next to her, placed his arm around her and pulled her closer. We need to keep ourselves warm. She turned to him, her face rigid with scorn, but an unexpected feeling to comfort quashed her anger. She melted and made no protest at all. Instead, she found herself snuggling up against him. What made you follow me? When I saw you run, I knew your intention.                                                            ______________________________________________________  { PART.  8 } - How am I supposed to live with myself knowing I caused the death of the Abbess? You didn't pull the trigger. That makes me no less guilty. I intended to kill a woman, tonight. But you didn't. Perhaps like me, you will one day find a chance to redeem yourself. Or maybe God sent me to save you, to prove to you that he has already forgiven you. Sister Celeste burst into tears. That I cannot believe. I was led to you and here you are, alive. Only His will can do this. It's a blessing. If only He choked back tears. If only I had been there to save my wife and boys. The drownings? That was your family? I remember...I'm sorry. Philippe took a deep breath. Enough tears. Tonight, my punishment ends. Please, let me help you. Let's go to my house where we can warm up. There are clothes for you there. Go back to your house? Where else will you go? I don't think you're welcome at the convent. At least give them a couple of weeks. You can stay with me.                                                              _______________________________________________________  { PART.  9 } - Why would I do that? Do you have anywhere else to go? She shook her head. I can never go back to the convent. I wouldn't, even if I could. I don't belong there. I never have. I... I have nowhere. No one. Then it's settled. You're coming with me. You'll be perfectly safe if that's what you're worried about. I am a man of honour. And an unpredictable drunk. Then I will make a promise to you. I will not touch a drop of alcohol while you are staying with me. She searched his face for the tiniest hint of a lie but saw a man with wide, sincere eyes. She turned away from him to gaze back at the ocean. The waves lapped just short of her feet, and the tide swept in and out in mesmeric movements. I will go with you, she said. She looked at him. What's your name?                                                        _______________________________________________________