Mephisto Waltz

by Bridgett Kay Specht

  “Take care of yourself,” Alice said. “I hope your parents don’t take your early return too badly.”

  “They will, but I’m sure they’ll recover from the shock, eventually. Thank you for everything, Alice.”

  “You’d better go,” she said.

  Julian smiled at us one last time, and walked out the door.

  #

  We had almost finished our lunch when Dr. Caleb stormed into the refectory. He walked swiftly to the front of the room, and held up his hand.

  “Attention, please.” His voice thundered through the quiet room. “Finish eating as quickly as possible, and assemble in the library for an emergency meeting.”

  Dr. Caleb motioned for Pastor Smith, who seemed bewildered, to follow him, and then turned and left the room.

  “I guess Dr. Caleb found out that Julian left,” James said.

  “I’m sure that Julian isn’t the first patient that Dr. Caleb has lost,” Alice said.

  “But he’s been so frustrated, lately,” I said. “Because of the bad weather, and now the flu epidemic, he hasn’t been able to keep order very well. I think that Julian leaving was too much for him.”

  “Let’s not push him any further,” James said. His tone was light, but as he bolted the rest of his lunch, I noticed that his fork trembled slightly in his hand.

  When we’d finished eating, and filed into the library, we saw that the chairs, which usually stood in a circle at the center of the room, were pushed away between the bookshelves. We were instructed to kneel on the floor and hold hands in our customary circle.

  Dr. Caleb began to walk around the perimeter of the circle. “A sickness has spread through this abbey,” he said. “I don’t mean the flu, but rather, a spiritual illness, which has spread like a virus among us. This illness has weakened us immeasurably. Our friend Julian was weakened to the point that he has given up, and he left us, this morning. We must not, however, despair. There is still hope for Julian while he lives, just as there is hope for all of you. There is no sickness which cannot be relieved by prayer.”

  Pastor Smith stepped forward. “Please, if you will all bow your heads, we will pray for Julian.”

  We all bowed our heads, and Pastor Smith led us in prayer. We prayed first for Julian, then for those who were still ill with the flu, and then for those of us whose ‘hearts were still hardened.’ We remained kneeling while we prayed, for what seemed like hours. The carpet, which had been comfortable enough at first, began to dig painfully into my knees. I grew weary, and I longed to sit down, or stand to stretch my legs. Soon I grew hungry, and my stomach began to growl. Alice’s hand became completely slack in mine, and her breathing was slow and regular, as though she had fallen asleep. James’s hand was hot and slick with sweat.

  Pastor Smith’s voice was rhythmic, and had a somniferous quality- soft and gentle. I was struggling with fatigue, and was about to succumb when his voice suddenly rang out, bright and fierce.

  “Spirit of weakness,

  Spirit of temptation,

  Spirit which has corrupted

  This fellowship,

  I charge you,

  In Christ’s name,

  To flee from us.”

  James’s hand tightened over mine, and shook.

  Dr. Caleb, who’s been sitting behind Pastor Smith, stood, and went to the girl nearest to him in the circle.

  “Mary,” he said. “Lead us in prayer.”

  “Please God,” a small, plaintive voice said in response. “Please, help me change, make me clean, and take away all of my impure thoughts.”

  Each person in the circle offered their own prayer in turn, and Jason squeezed my hand tighter, his breathing becoming more erratic, as Dr. Caleb drew closer. When it was James’s turn to pray, he dropped my hand and collapsed on the floor, sobbing.

  “James, don’t give in to your weakness,” Dr. Caleb commanded.

  James, though, remained on the floor. “Why won’t he listen to me?” he said, his voice muffled, through his tears. “Why won’t he answer my prayers?”

  Pastor Smith went to James’s side. “Don’t say such things, James. You are being tested. Have faith, and it will be rewarded.”

  “Maybe I’m too deep in sin to have faith anymore,” James said. “Oh please, God, forgive my sins, and take them away from me. I really do want to change. Please, help me.”

  He fell silent, his sobs shaking his frame as the rest of us watched, helpless.

  #

  We remained in the library at prayer through dinner and until well past midnight. Finally, we were released, hungry and tired, to return to our dorms and sleep.

  I was so fatigued that I can’t remember how I was able to walk from the library to the cloisters. I fell asleep almost immediately when I got into bed, my mind slipping immediately into a crystal clear dream.

  In my dream, I was home in San Avila, walking along the warm, breezy gulf shore. I could smell the salt in the air, feel the sun on my face, and feel a slim, soft hand in mine. I didn’t need to look to know that the hand belonged to Clara. Having her there, by my side, brought me a greater sense of peace than I’d known in months.

  We walked in silence for a time, listening to the waves rush against the shore. Then Clara said, “I forgive you, Miranda.”

  “You are less selfish than I am,“ I said.

  Clara knew what I meant without asking. “Mark didn’t choose to leave you, any more than you chose to leave me.”

  I stopped walking. “Mark chose to leave me. He took his own life.” My voice seemed harsh to my own ears.

  Clara turned to regard me with a cool expression. “You were compelled to obey your parents, Miranda, just as Mark was compelled to obey the call of death. You left me in danger, just as Mark left you in danger.”

  She reached out to touch my face. Her eyes were tender, and her sweet lips were smiling.

  “Still,” she said, “I forgive you.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the idyllic scene began to dissolve, as though in response to the intrusion. I was left alone in my small, dark room. As I woke, however, the rumbling didn’t stop, and I realized that the rumbling was not thunder at all, but the violent shaking of my door. The door was rattling too fiercely to be a product of the wind, and I could see the old, rusty lock begin to yield. I got up to hold the door, but as I drew near, the lock gave way completely, and the door flew open with a crash.

  A figure, half-hidden in darkness, stumbled into the room, feeling about in the darkness with wildly flailing arms. I stepped away, but it pursued me, tackled me, and held me against the ground with all of its weight. I kicked and pushed at the body with all of my strength, but it was too heavy, and wouldn’t be moved.

  “Ouch, stop it,” a familiar voice murmured.

  “James?” I cried.

  “Mir-Miranda?” he said uncertainly, shifting his weight slightly. “What are you doing in my room?”

  “This is my room,” I said. “Get off of me.”

  James complied, and I stood up to turn on the lights. He looked around the room, looking rather dazed.

  “I suppose this is your room,” he said with a nervous laugh.

  “Why did you break into my room?” I demanded.

  James tilted his head in thought. “I remember that I had another nightmare. I have a recurring dream that I’m lost, trying to make my way through a maze, and I’m being chased by a rabbit.”

  “Sorry, James, but a rabbit?” I said.

  “I’m not usually afraid of rabbits, but this is an especially scary rabbit. Anyway, it chases me, I get lost, and I come to a door I can’t open.”

  “My door,” I said. “You’re a sleepwalker.”

  “I haven’t done that since I was a little kid,” he said. “I never imagined that I could be the one trying to break into your room.”

  “You really scared me,” I said. “Did you have to be so violent?”

  “The rabbit was violent,” James said defensively
. “The rabbit even kicked me, this time.”

  I started to laugh, and soon it turned into an uncontrollable fit of giggles. James stared at me bemusedly as I fell onto the bed, clutching my side.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, struggling to breathe. “I’m not laughing at you, and I’m sorry I kicked you. I’m so relieved, I can’t help but laugh.”

  “I’m sorry too,” James said sheepishly. “I know how worried you were, when you discovered that someone was trying to break in, but I wouldn’t take your story seriously.”

  “Well, it did turn out to be nothing, so it doesn’t matter. Will you be okay?”

  “I won’t sleep again tonight,” James said. “I can’t stand these cramped little cells, anymore. I’m going outside for a while. Care to join me?”

  I wanted to return to my warm, soft bed and sleep, and I knew that I would sleep well, after solving one mystery that had been troubling me. I could tell by James’s countenance, though, that he needed a friend that night, so I grabbed my coat and followed him outside.

  It was a stunningly clear night. Not a single light shone from the abbey, and there were no cities nearby to cause any light pollution, so that the inky black sky was crowded with thousands of glittering stars. James and I sat on the steps which led to the chapel so we could look out over the entire abbey as it slept.

  “It is so still and silent now, with no people around.” He gestured toward the broken fountain, the dead trees, and the black shadows that fell on the crumbling walls of the cloisters and the flying buttresses which lined the edge of the main building. “This place looks like an abandoned ruin,” James said.

  “I would love it here,” I agreed, “if I weren’t away from my family. This would be a beautiful place to visit.”

  “I knew that you were more like Alice and me than you cared to admit. You have a love of the melancholy, after all.”

  “Sometimes I do,” I said. “I thought that you had given up on the macabre, though. You said that you regretted ever telling the story of Mary.”

  “Things have been difficult, lately. I’ve been trying to purge myself of sin, but nothing I’ve tried seems to work. I’ve had several exorcisms performed, but still, there’s no change. I’m lost, Miranda.”

  “You’ve had exorcisms?” I asked, shocked. “I thought those only existed in movies.”

  “It’s a last resort for someone like me,” he said. “I wasn’t supposed to talk about it to anyone. I suppose that’s simply one more sin I’ve committed.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself. You’re a good, kind person. You always try to make peace between people, and you try to make people happy. What’s the odd instance of disobedience, compared to that?”

  James sighed, and put his head on his knees. He didn’t answer, but instead said, “Miranda, do you believe in God?”

  “Sometimes it’s difficult to believe,” I said. “But when I look into the night sky like this, and I gaze at what seems so immense, but is just a fraction of our universe, I feel humbled. I feel a kind of primal knowledge inside myself, that this is all divine. Yes, I believe.”

  “Then why aren’t you trying to change, too?” he asked. “Don’t you want to obey God?”

  “I believe that God gave me reason, to guide me,” I said. “And my God-given reason tells me that being gay isn’t a sin. It isn’t harmful, and it isn’t vice; it’s just how I was created. It’s part of who I am. Why would God create me this way, and then condemn me for it?”

  “But what about Christ?” he asked.

  “What about Christ?” I responded. “You claim to believe in Christ, but you won’t accept the cross- you won’t accept forgiveness. You’re putting yourself through hell, James.”

  “I don’t want to sin, any more,” James said. “How can you accept the gift of forgiveness, and then go out and sin again?”

  “It’s not a sin to be who you are. God created you, and I think that God loves you as he created you. Don’t punish yourself; learn to love and forgive yourself, and learn to love and forgive others.”

  “I wish I could do that,” James said. “I hate myself.”

  I took his hand in mine. “Don’t hate yourself. My brother hated himself, and according to dogma, he died in his sin. I know, though, that my brother was loved, and forgiven. ”

  “He was,” James said. “I’m sure he was.”

  “What about you?” I asked.

  James sat up, and turned his face toward the stars. “My parents might not be as forgiving.”

  “That’s to their detriment. You shouldn’t punish yourself, just to gain their love. Love that isn’t given freely is worthless.”

  James nodded, and I could see one or two tears on his cheeks, glittering in the dull light. I put my arms around him as he cried, but shortly he pulled away, and he was smiling through his tears.

  “Thank you Miranda,” he said. “We should sleep, now. I want to get up early, tomorrow. I have some decisions to make.”

  We stood and walked back to the cloisters together, our way lit only by the light of the stars.

  Chapter 14

  Dreams

  Death

  When I woke the next morning, my room was flooded with bright sunlight, and the clock read “8:30 am.” I had neglected to set my alarm, since I’d had no need of it for a long time, but even though I had missed breakfast, and my tardiness would doubtlessly earn me a demerit, I didn’t care. The extra hours of sleep, which had been graced by sweet and gentle dreams, were worth the punishment.

  I dressed and washed as quickly as I could, and then I ran across the courtyard and through the main building. When I entered the library, the morning class was already assembled, and Ms. Sweeny met me with a stern gaze.

  “I was worried that you had become ill,” she said. “You’ve earned two demerits for your tardiness. Combined with the three demerits you already have, you have 5 demerits total. I’m afraid you have kitchen duty this week.”

  “I understand,” I said.

  “Go to your desk, and get started on your assignments,” she said.

  I nodded and went to my desk, which was in the far corner of the room, and retreated behind my trigonometry book. I didn’t have long to work, however, before the door to the library opened, and Dr. Caleb walked in.

  “I need to see Alice and Miranda in my office, immediately,” he said to Ms. Sweeny.

  Alice caught my eye as we stood, looking bewildered, but I shrugged and followed Dr. Caleb, who strode swiftly and purposefully from the room. When we arrived in his office, he slammed the heavy oak door shut behind us. He didn’t offer us a seat. In fact, the rich, leather chairs which usually stood, welcoming, in front of his desk, were now pulled away, tucked into the back corners of the room. I briefly wondered, as he sat in his own chair, if he’d pulled them away for effect.

  “I hope you are both proud of what you’ve done,” he said, a forced calm in his voice. “Are you both pleased to be responsible for someone, who was so close to recovery, giving up treatment entirely?”

  “You can’t possibly blame us for Julian leaving,” Alice said indignantly.

  “Don’t play innocent, Alice, you know I don’t mean Julian. You must be aware that one of your best friends came into my office this morning, announced that he needed time to ‘re-examine his beliefs about God and sin,’ and to ‘find himself,’ before walking out of that door and out of the abbey.”

  “James!” I couldn’t restrain my cry of joy. “Good for him.”

  Dr. Caleb stood and walked around the desk until he was looming over me.

  “You admit you had something to do with this,” he said.

  “Yes, I gladly admit it. I persuaded him to go home, because the treatment wasn’t working. Let Alice go, though, she didn’t have anything to do with it.”

  “Why?” he demanded, his eyes burning like blue flames. “Why would you do such a thing? Why throw your friend out into the world to be tempted by its corruption?”


  “James told me he hated himself, last night. He’s been riddled with guilt, and torturing himself. I can’t watch as a friend suffers, and do nothing.”

  Dr. Caleb studied me for a moment, his expression inscrutable, then took my arm and dragged me back to the library. Alice followed, protesting loudly, but he paid no attention to her. When we entered the library again, he propelled me into the center of the room. The students in the library dropped their work and watched in shocked fascination.

  “Tell Pastor Smith to bring the others here,” he told Ms. Sweeny.

  I stood, trembling with fright, as everyone assembled and sat in a circle around me. When everyone was present, Dr. Caleb spoke.

  “Our prayers have been answered,” he announced. “This morning, I was able to find the root of the spiritual illness that has been plaguing us. Miranda Rothschild is the one who has introduced this illness into the abbey, by actively spreading lies among us. Fortunately, I have the remedy to this sickness. Almost 150 years ago, the nuns who inhabited this abbey would, from time to time, be subject to spiritual trouble, and in such a time, they would take a vow of silence. Under this vow of silence, they were able to shut out the poisonous influence of man’s words, and better hear God.

  “So, Miranda, this week you will take a similar vow. You will not speak to your friends or councilors. Any time you try to speak, you will be given a demerit, and anyone who speaks to you will likewise be given a demerit. You will take your meals in the kitchen, alone, and spend your free time either in the Library or in the solace of your dorm room, instead of in the common room.

  “Oh, and Ms. Sweeny, please lock up the piano, just in case Miranda is tempted to practice in the early morning, when no one is around. We don’t want anything to disturb Miranda’s quiet contemplation.” He finished with a sadistic grin.

  Ms. Sweeny seemed as stunned as everyone else, but she nodded in agreement. Alice gave me a look of despair, but I gave her a small, reassuring smile, despite my distress.