Allistair nodded. She had never known what to do when people did the TMI thing. She found it awkward and embarrassing. You didn’t find her going around telling people that she had a birthmark on her butt.
Sister Peaches sneezed again. Achoo!
“Bless you,” Allistair said.
“Thank you. Mother Superior told me to show you to your room. So, which one of you is Sister Alice and which is Sister Wanda?”
“I’m not a fuckin’ sister and I’m not a fuckin’ Wanda,” Willy grumbled. She threw her napkin down on the table.
Allistair laughed quickly. “Oh, never mind Sister Wanda. She gets grumpy when she’s tired.”
“Like hell I do,” Willy objected.
“You’re right,” Allistair said, “You’re grumpy all the time.”
“Then that’s what we’ll call you,” Sister Peaches said with a chuckle. “You’ll be Grumpy, I’ll be Sneezy and we only need five more to be the Seven Dwarfs.”
Willy pointed at Allistair. “She can be Dopey. Now we only need four more.”
“That’s not funny,” Allistair said.
“It wasn’t a joke,” Willy said.
“Achoo!”
“Bless you,” Allistair said, wondering how many times she should say that before she could ignore the sneezes and still be polite.
“Thank you,” Sister Peaches said, dabbing at her red, swollen eyes with her handkerchief. “Follow me and I’ll show you to your room.”
Sister Peaches led the way down the hallway with her weird little skip-hop gait. Allistair and Willy followed her down a long corridor with arches and wall sconces that emitted dim light. Sister Peaches talked nonstop, “The convent is a square with the chapel in the center surrounded by the gardens. Inside the square is the refectory, where you just were, on one end and the other side is the workshops. In between are the living quarters and the bathrooms. The Mother Superior has a small cottage that serves as both office and living quarters. The rest of us share a room. You’ll get lost a few times then you’ll get the hang of it.” Sister Peaches pointed to a dark set of stairs that rapidly descended into even darker, ominous shadows. “Never go down there.”
“Why, is that the dungeon?” Willy asked. “Where they torture the bad nuns?”
“Oh my, no,” Sister Peaches said, giggling. “They stopped torturing nuns over a century ago. That’s where we grind the cats into sausages.”
Willy and Allistair gasped.
Sister Peaches laughed. “Got you! I overheard you say that in the refectory.”
Willy breathed a sigh of relief. “Good one.”
Achoo!
Allistair didn’t say anything.
Sister Peaches skipped down the hallway, continuing, “For real, don’t go down there, though. It’s the catacombs. Get it, catacombs? They’re underground tunnels that run every which way. Achoo! You could get lost for years down there before you found your way out. Curiosity killed the cat. So to speak.” She giggled at her own joke.
“This is a very interesting building,” Allistair said. She had always been curious about convents. When she was young she had a fantasy of being a nun. She liked the order and simplicity of it all. She liked that you always knew what you were going to wear and you always knew what time everything happened day after day after day. You didn’t have to worry about make-up or high heels or being attractive for other people. You could just be you. And, of course, there was also the titillating factor of being completely surrounded by women. She had read the statistics—Fifty percent of all nuns considered themselves lesbians. And the other fifty percent considered themselves asexual. Those are pretty good odds, Allistair thought. Much better odds than out in the real world.
Allistair tuned back in to Sister Peaches’ rambling as she led them down another dim hallway, “I have an aunt named Wanda. She lives in Texas and barrel races. Some say I take after her. She isn’t a Catholic but she is an animal lover. I love animals. Achoo! Aunt Wanda has two golden retrievers and a chocolate lab and two miniature Yorkies as well as barn cats and some chickens and I think a rabbit or two. I don’t have anyone named Alice in my family tree but I did go to high school with an Alice. Achoo! She grew up to be a chain smoker and a call girl. She’s Catholic.”
“Maybe you’re allergic to cats,” Willy said. “That’s why you sneeze all the time.”
Sister Peaches stopped and turned to Willy. “Don’t be silly. Why would I live in a cat sanctuary if I were allergic to cats?” She skipped away then suddenly stopped. Willy smacked into her back.
Sister Peaches said, “Whoops, that’s a bad habit of mine—sudden stops. Bad habit. Get it? Achoo! I should have a sign on my back that reads ‘Caution: Nun makes sudden stops.’ Well, here we are.” She opened a wooden door and Willy and Allistair stepped inside.
Allistair did not like what she saw. It was a very small room, no bigger than her closet at home. It contained two twin beds, a crucifix hanging on the wall, an armoire, one nightstand, and a desk and chair. No window.
“Basic, yet comfy,” Sister Peaches said.
“Depends on your view of basic,” Allistair said. Personally, Allistair thought, I think the basics are a mini-fridge, coffee pot, hair-dryer and, perhaps, even a mini-bar. “Room service?” Allistair asked hopefully.
Sister Peaches laughed. Allistair sighed and watched Willy sit on a bed and bounce up and down.
“Hard as a rock,” Willy said. “Just how I like my mattress.” She kicked off her flip-flops and stretched out on the bed. “It’s perfect. Low maintenance and no clutter.”
“Is there Wi-fi?” Allistair asked.
Achoo!
“I take it that means no,” Allistair said. “So where’s my room?”
“This is your room,” Sister Peaches answered.
“Oh. Where’s Sister Wanda’s room?” Allistair asked.
“This is her room.”
“You mean we’re sharing the same room?” Allistair asked, aghast. “I can’t be in the same room as that.” On the word “that,” she pointed at Willy who was sprawled on the bed with her hands behind her head.
“I’m not excited about being in the same space as you either, you know,” Willy said.
“Sure,” Allistair said. “Sure, you’re not.” She looked at Sister Peaches and said, “I might as well tell you that Willy and I are both lesbians. I can control my primal urges, but I’m not so certain Willy has that capacity.”
Sister Peaches put her hand over her mouth and giggled.
Willy sat straight up. “How do I know I can trust you?” she said. “I know your type. As soon as it’s lights out, you’ll be creeping over here to my bed and trying to get all up in this.”
“My type? What type is that?” Allistair put her hands on her hips.
“You put on this big act of being all cold and frigid. Then when it’s dark you turn into a nymphomaniac. Well, I can tell you one thing—you’re not getting up my habit.”
“I don’t want up your habit!” Allistair exclaimed.
“And keep your hands off my nubile buttocks,” Willy added.
Allistair turned to Sister Peaches, saying, “You see? You see why I can’t be in the same room as her! She’s impossible!”
Sister Peaches giggled. “You two are so funny. How long have you been together?”
“We’re not together!” Allistair stamped her foot. “I want to talk to your supervisor. I demand a different room from that… that… ape woman.”
“I want another room, too,” Willy said. Once again, she was lounging on the bed with her ankles crossed and her hands behind her head. “Sister Alice keeps undressing me with her eyes. I can’t possibly sleep in the same room as her.”
Sister Peaches shook her head. “We all have to room together. It’s the buddy system. No exceptions.”
Allistair flopped down on the other bed and wailed. She hadn’t meant to but all the day’s trouble bubbled up inside her. She tumbled back on the bed and blubbered.
>
“What is she doing?” Sister Peaches asked.
“I think she’s crying,” Willy said.
Allistair wailed louder.
“Why would she be crying?” Sister Peaches asked. “What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Willy said. “She’s what my mama called high-strung.”
Allistair wailed even louder.
Sister Peaches and Willy stared at each other. “Do something,” Willy commanded. “For Chrissake, you’re a nun, go comfort her.”
“I’m not what you’d call a people person. I do better with animals.” Sister Peaches wrung her hands and bit her lip. She shifted from foot to foot. Finally, she moved to Allistair’s bed, sat on the edge and tentatively scratched behind Allistair’s ear. Allistair batted away Sister Francine’s hand.
“It works on the cats,” Sister Francine said helplessly.
“Oh for Chrissake,” Willy moaned. She got up, pushed Sister Peaches away, sat on the bed and took Allistair in her arms. She gently stroked Allistair’s back while Allistair sobbed into her neck.
Sister Peaches cleared her throat. “The bathroom is down the hall on the left. You should find everything you need in there. Your nightshirts are hanging on the hooks and your toothbrushes are on the sink.” With that, she bolted from the room.
Willy gently patted Allistair on the back until her sobs subsided to the hiccup stage. “There, there,” Willy soothed. “It’s not all bad. Look at all the positives…we’re alive. We’re safe.” She ran out of good things to say, so she repeated, “We’re alive.”
“I just want to shave my legs. I want chocolate. I want a hot bath. I want to go shopping,” Allistair whimpered.
“Well… you’re alive.”
“You say that one more time and I’ll smack you,” Allistair said.
Willy laughed lightly. Allistair pulled out of Willy’s arms, looked her in the eyes and said, “Thank you for holding me. That was very human of you.”
“I know, right?” Willy said. “I didn’t even try to cop a feel.”
Allistair laughed despite herself. She looked around the sad, bare room and sighed. “Well, it could be worse, I guess.”
“Yeah, at least there’s lots of pussy here,” Willy said.
Meow! sounded from the other side of their closed door.
Allistair laughed again. Maybe being around Willy wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
“It’s good to hear you laugh. That icicle you had stuck up your butt must’ve melted,” Willy said.
Then again, Allistair thought, I could be wrong.
Rub-A-Dub-Dub, Three Nuns In A Tub
Allistair and Willy surveyed the bathroom. There were four claw-footed bathtubs, two on one side of the room and two on the other. The floor was checkered with black and white tiles giving the appearance of walking on a giant chessboard. Toilets and sinks lined two of the walls. There was the constant hiss, drip, and gurgle of leaky washers and stressed pipes.
“Oh my God,” Allistair whispered. “The toilet stalls have no doors.”
“I can see that,” Willy said. Willy ordinarily wasn’t modest. She would sometimes spend entire Sundays in nothing but her underwear. She slept naked year round. She had even been known to pee while somebody else was in the room. But she had to admit that pooping in front of people was pushing her limits.
“I can’t live like this,” Allistair said with a tremble in her voice.
“Do you have to poop?” Willy asked. “Because if you do I can wait outside. If somebody comes along, I can whistle. Or I can make hoot owl noises. Then you won’t be caught with your pants down.”
“I don’t have to poop,” Allistair said through gritted teeth. “And even if I did have to poop, I wouldn’t tell you.”
“Okay, fine, have it your way,” Willy said. “We won’t be pooping partners.”
“You’re sick.”
“Just trying to help,” Willy said. She turned on the faucet in one of the tubs and stuck the rubber stopper in the drain. She slipped out of her flip-flops and unzipped her pants.
Allistair whispered harshly, “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking a bath,” Willy answered. “I thought that’s why we came in here.”
“We can’t bathe in here!” Allistair whisper-shouted.
“Why not? Did I miss something?” Willy dropped her pants.
Allistair quickly turned her back. “There’s no privacy. I’m not getting naked in a room full of nuns.”
“I don’t see any nuns,” Willy said. “It’s just me and Sissy.”
“Who’s Sissy?”
“Sissy is my you-know-what. My woman-center. My love cave. My tunnel of love.”
“Oh my God, you named your vagina?” Allistair whispered.
“Doesn’t yours have a name?”
“No. Naming your vagina is… a little… weird,” Allistair groped.
“Would you like to meet Sissy? I can introduce you. You could shake her hand. She’s very friendly.”
“Certainly not. After all, I hardly know you.”
“Well, I feel like we’ve known each other forever. We’ve witnessed a murder together. I laid on top of you and had my face nestled in your breasts. I told you about Beverly.”
“Who’s Beverly?”
“My spoon friend! Did you already forget?”
“No, I didn’t forget,” Allistair said. “But I still don’t want to prance around naked in front of you.”
“Then don’t prance. Walking like a normal person would be fine with me.”
“You know what I meant.”
“You can turn around now,” Willy said.
“I don’t want to see you naked,” Allistair said.
“That’s what you say now. But your body is saying something different,” Willy teased.
“What?” Allistair gasped. She checked the front of her shirt in case her nipples were betraying her.
“For Chrissakes, Allistair, I’m in the tub. You can turn around without being worried about getting excited about my luscious body.”
Allistair turned around and faced Willy. She had her hands over her eyes. She peeked through her fingers and saw that Willy really was in the tub and all her private parts were below water level. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll go over to that tub and bathe over there.”
“Don’t trust yourself, huh? Can’t keep your hands off me, huh?” Willy said, chuckling.
“You wish,” Allistair said, turning on the faucet in the tub behind Willy.
Actually, Willy thought, I do wish. She also wished Allistair was more her type. How fun would it be right now to take a bath together? Yeah, they were in a convent, but that only added to the verboten-ness of the situation. Willy laid her head back on the rim of the tub and closed her eyes. She pictured Allistair’s perky breasts. Her hand lathering the perky breasts… The nipples hardening. Reaching down to between Allistair’s thighs and…
AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!
Allistair’s scream scared the bejeezums out of Willy. Willy jumped out of the tub. As soon as her wet feet hit the cement, she Slip ‘N Slided across the floor. Willy flapped her arms, but that only added to the momentum and she skidded—naked, Sissy right out in the open—across the bathroom. Before she could find a way to apply the brakes she collided into another tub and somersaulted inside.
“That was hilarious!” Allistair was sitting in her tub up to her chest in water. She laughed so hard she slapped the water with her palms. “I screamed because the water was so cold. You should’ve seen yourself, Willy! Oh my God, that was hilarious! Better than a Three Stooges show. Though I never could figure out what was so funny about three grown men hitting each other. But now I think I get it.” She laughed again. When Willy didn’t appear or make any noise, Allistair said, “Are you mad at me?”
Willy didn’t answer. Allistair became concerned. “Are you okay?”
There was no answer.
“Seriously, Willy, don’t
be messing with me. I’m sorry I screamed.”
No answer.
“Willy?” Allistair said. Her voice was tinged with real fear. “Willy, you okay?”
Slowly, Willy’s head appeared above the rim of the tub. She levered to her feet, oblivious to her nakedness. Allistair averted her gaze. Willie held her arms over her head in the traditional “stick ‘em up” style and stepped out of the tub.
Behind Willy a nun dressed in full habit rose up out of the tub. The nun was holding a gun. She was chewing gum and her right eye had a permanent Popeye squint. “What’s the big idea?” the nun said. Her accent sounded like it was straight out of the TV show The Sopranos.
“I’m so sorry,” Willy said. “I didn’t mean to fall on you. It was very clumsy of me.”
The nun poked Willy in her ribs with her gun. “The last woman who jumped my bones is wearing cement shoes and feeding the fish, if youse knows what I mean.”
“I didn’t mean to jump your bones,” Willy said. “I slipped and fell. It was an accident. Do you mind if I were to get dressed? If you’re going to shoot me, I’d like to die with my clothes on.”
“Sure,” the nun said. She gestured to a row of hooks where two nightshirts were hanging. “You can put your pajamas on before I fill you with holes.”
Willy kept her arms above her head as she walked to the hooks. Once there, she lowered her arms and took down a nightshirt. It was as coarse and stiff as a potato sack. She slipped it on over her head, nice and easy, just like she had seen it done in the movies then put her hands back over her head.
Allistair pleaded with the gun-holding nun, “Sister, please don’t shoot us. We’re new here and didn’t know you were hiding in that tub. If you let us go, we’ll go back to our room and won’t breathe a word to anybody. I swear.”
“No can do, Sister,” The nun said. “You already seen my face. I got no choice but to whack youse both.” And with that she raised her gun and took careful aim at Allistair.
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