by Selena Kitt
Jean and Lizzie were looking at Frannie, wide-eyed. Marty actually looked angry. Leah didn’t say anything at all, because her own thoughts since the beginning of this pregnancy had been dark. At least they had until recently.
“Thinking isn’t doing,” Marty snapped. “I’m Catholic. I could never intentionally hurt this baby.”
Frannie called over, “Hey, Lizzie, Jean, come on over. Lily’s gonna dance for us.”
They made a half circle, four pregnant girls in bleached white nightgowns, watching expectantly. Leah was stuck now. She went over to the wall, balancing, fingertips brushing the wall ever so slightly, pretending there was a barre there. She stretched, an arm over her head, then the other, lifting one leg out to the side, discovering her flexibility wasn’t what it used to be.
“I can’t dance in this nightgown. It’s too long.”
“So take off.” Marty grinned.
“Here, do this.” Lizzie was up in a flash, gathering Leah’s nightgown on one side, pulling it up, and tying it at her hipbone. Now they could see her cotton panties and long, dancer’s legs. “Better?”
“Thanks.”
Leah closed her eyes, squatting down into a deep plié, getting her balance, getting her bearings. The classical station was playing Claire de Lune, something familiar and enticing. Leah began to dance again for the first time in months. She had no practice clothing, no leotard, no toe shoes, no barre or mirror. It didn’t matter though because her body knew just what to do. Even with the counterweight of the baby in her belly, she found grace again, losing herself in the dance, in the beauty of the movement, of the music, of her own body, and the ways it could sway and bend and twist.
She remembered Mr. Nolan, the man who had been just Erica’s father at the time, watching her with lust in his eyes. She remembered how she imagined him, how she had danced for him, how she had longed for him. She was longing for him now. They should have been together, happy, married. This baby should have been a blessing, not a curse. Her mother had ruined that. Her mother had ruined everything. Like some villain in a fairytale, the wicked Queen had stepped in and tossed aside her rival. Leah’s only crime had been love.
She danced every painful memory, every tortured kiss, every sweet surrender in his arms. She wanted him back. She needed him, her body craved him like a drug. She’d become addicted, and now the withdrawal was killing her. Even the baby in her belly knew, floating in its watery prison cell, just as trapped as she was here at Magdalene House. She danced the dance of a tortured soul, of loss, of a tender love turned dark and forbidden.
When Leah was finished, she collapsed to the floor, breathless and panting, sobbing. The dance had brought forth a tidal wave of tears, her body finally giving in to the sorrow of her loss. The girls were on her in an instant, warm limbs and soft kisses, sweet words and cajoling. Leah welcomed all of it, sobbing her heart out in their arms.
“Shh.” Jean’s head shot up from the group, like a gazelle hearing the distant roar of a lion. “She’s coming.”
That’s all she had to say. The girls scrambled, hiding their contraband and going down the back steps as quietly as they could in their bare feet. They made it back to their room just in time. Sister Benedict’s flashlight found Leah under the covers, eyes closed, heart hammering in her chest still, so loud she was sure the nun must hear it. But she moved on to Marty’s bed, then Lizzie, then Frannie. Then the door closed, and they were alone again.
Lizzie and Frannie fell fast asleep. Leah was awake, watching shadows, bare bones of branches in the moonlight swaying on the ceiling, no more leaves to cover their limbs. Halloween was a few weeks away, and although she and Erica were too old to go trick-or-treating anymore, there would be Halloween parties, and of course Mr. Nolan’s masquerade ball. He held it every year in the warehouse, clearing out the huge space, half of the whole place, furniture moved to the walls, to make a dance floor.
They all wore masks, everyone trying to guess who was who, until midnight, and the unveiling. She would miss it this year. Would she ever see him again? And what would she say, what could she say, if she did? If she could’ve turned the clock back, would she have done anything differently? No. She loved him. Not like a father, although at one time he had seemed like one to her. No, she loved the man. She always would. Nothing could change that. Pandora’s box could not be unopened, no one could return to Eden. She wouldn’t want to.
Through the darkness, Marty’s voice crossed the gap between their little twin beds, “You were beautiful dancing. I’ve ever seen anything so beautiful in my life.”
Leah flushed and was thankful for the darkness. “Thank you.”
“Why are you crying?”
“I was thinking about him.”
“The father of your baby?” Marty asked.
“Yes. I miss him.”
The redhead sighed. “I wish I could say the same.”
“Don’t you miss your boyfriend?”
“Can I tell you a secret, Lily? If you promise not to tell? ”
“Of course.”
“Can I come over there?”
“Sure.”
Marty crept across the hardwood floor, tiptoeing, sliding into bed next to Leah. She pulled the covers up over both of them. Leah smiled in the darkness, wrapping her arms around the other girl, just like she used to with Erica. She missed that too.
“So what’s your secret?”
“I don’t know the father my baby,” Marty confessed, snuggling closer.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean...” Marty whispered, not wanting to be overheard. “There were so many. It could have been anyone.”
“What?” Leah could hardly breathe. “But I thought… you and…?”
“I lied.” Marty sounded ashamed. “Dick was my boyfriend. But we never...”
“I don’t understand.”
“I went to Catholic school like you. St. Antoine’s. Do you know it?”
Leah shushed her, putting her fingers to Marty’s lips in the darkness. “You know we’re not supposed to talk about where we’re from...”
“I don’t care anymore. I have to tell you. I don’t want you to worry, while I’m gone.”
“Gone? What? Gone where?” Leah didn’t understand, nothing the girl said was making any sense.
“There’s a good chance this baby was fathered by a priest.”
Leah was quiet, and then she laughed, nervously. “Quit joshing.”
“It’s not a joke.”
Leah blinked. “You’re serious?”
“Yes.” Marty sighed. “It’s hard to explain especially to someone who doesn’t understand the way we are. The way it works.”
“The way what works?”
“The Mary Magdalenes.”
Leah was familiar with her own Mary Magdalene school, of course, but Mary Magdalene was a common enough Catholic name. There had to be hundreds of Mary Magdalene schools and St. Antoine’s schools and St. Christopher’s schools all over the country. But Leah didn’t have to wonder long because Marty explained.
“The Mary Magdalenes are a secret society. A secret Catholic society.”
“Is it like some sort of sorority?”
“Not like any sorority I’ve ever heard of.” Marty snorted laughter, covering it with her hand. She didn’t want to wake Lizzie and Frannie. “We wear these masks. The Marys wear white ones and the Magdalenes wear red. The Marys are worshiped. The priests kiss the feet and give them communion, heavenly host. The Magdalenes, like me, we’re the Jezebels. We’re the temptresses, the naughty, wicked lustful ones. They tie us up and they beat us.”
Leah was frozen in place, could hardly breathe. “You’re making this up.”
“I’m not!” Marty protested indignantly. “They warn us not to tell. I never have. They say people won’t believe us. Wow, I guess that’s true.”
“It’s a little far-fetched.” Leah felt her friend recoil, moving away in the darkness. She’d hurt her feelings, she knew
, but it was so ludicrous. It couldn’t possibly be true.
“It’s real. Please believe me.” Marty was pleading with her. “It doesn’t start out like that, of course. It starts out with readings and candles and rituals. There’s an initiation. But if you stay, if you keep the secret, then you take part in the rituals with the priests.”
“Wait, you’re telling me the priests have sex… with…?”
“Yes!” Marty exclaimed. “How do you think I got pregnant?”
“Oh my God.” Leah let that fact sink in. Priests and nuns having sex with young girls, performing sexual rituals? It couldn’t be true. She felt like she just stepped into one of those Twilight Zone episodes Erica loved to watch.
“I had to tell you, so you wouldn’t worry. Sister Benedict told me some of us are going to take part in a ritual this month. I didn’t want you to think something had happened to me.”
“Well, something has happened to you! Isn’t this illegal? Or something?”
“All the girls are over the age of consent,” Marty argued. “We agree to it, I mean, it’s part of being in the Mary Magdalenes. We’re sisters, for life. We have each other, forever.”
“So it is like a sorority.”
Marty hesitated. “Yes and no. It’s bigger, more than that.”
“But priests and nuns are celibate.”
“They are. But the rituals we do serve God. They’re sacred. Holy. Oh, it’s hard to explain. I just wanted you to know, so you wouldn’t worry.”
“But you’re pregnant. Why do they want you now?”
“They like the pregnant Magdalenes,” Marty explained. “Because our bellies are proof of her sin.”
“I just… I can’t believe...” Leah stared at the shadows on the ceiling, trying to make sense of it.
“I just wanted you to know. I might be gone, I don’t know how long, and I wanted you to know where I was.”
“I’m scared for you.”
“Don’t be,” Marty reassured her. “It’s part of being in the Mary Magdalenes. I’m not supposed to tell you this. I’m not supposed to tell anyone outside of the order.”
“Wait, the nuns know?”
“Some of them. Like Sister Benedict. Some of them participate.”
Leah couldn’t believe it. “It just sounds like a made up story.”
“I know,” Marty whispered. “Sometimes I wish it was.”
“Why do you do it?”
Her friend shrugged, swallowing hard. “It’s hard to explain. It doesn’t start out that way, with all the rituals and… I guess it does start out kind of like a sorority. You make friends, you get involved. Then come the nuns, and the priests, and the masks, and you’re already in it, and it’s not so bad, really, things kind of build up gradually...”
“You said they beat you!” Leah grabbed her friend’s shoulders, shaking her. “I don’t think you get how crazy this sounds!”
“It’s part of the ritual,” Marty explained. “You don’t understand… I wouldn’t expect you to… ”
“I’m trying.” Leah thought about Mary Magdalene’s Preparatory College for Girls, and wondered, which one of them had been a Mary? Or a Magdalene? It seemed impossible something so scandalous could go on, unnoticed.
“I did think about leaving, in the beginning, but… we can’t just leave.”
“Why not?”
“Because… because… Things happen. They swear you to secrecy. And then if you tell, things happen. I knew one girl who tried to leave. She threatened to expose everything. You just don’t do that. Imagine if people knew, telling puts everyone at risk, all your sisters. I could never do that. No one would understand.”
“What happened to her?”
“She committed suicide.” Marty was quiet for a moment. “Except I don’t think… I mean, she wasn’t the suicidal type.”
“You think the church… someone…?”
“I don’t know. But things like that, they happened to people, girls who threatened to tell. Another girl, this is just a rumor, but I heard another girl told her family, and there was a house fire… No one survived.”
“Oh my God.” Leah put her arms around Marty and hugged her. “Marty, you have to get out of this.”
“It’s okay. Once you get pregnant, and give away your baby, your time of service is over. I won’t be going back, at least to do rituals anymore. But I’ll always be connected to my sisters. That’s the important part, to me.”
“You could have joined a sorority for that.”
Marty shook her head. “You don’t understand. The things we’ve gone through together, it creates an unbreakable bond. It binds us, one to the other. We won’t betray each other. Ever.”
“So there are other Marys and Magdalenes here? At Magdalene House?”
“Just Magdalenes. No Marys. Marys can’t get pregnant.”
Leah frowned. “They don’t have sex?”
“Oh they have sex. But Marys just can’t get pregnant. It’s the Magdalenes like me who eventually end up pregnant and get sent to places like these. Houses for moral welfare.”
“Pregnant with babies fathered by priests,” Leah said, incredulous.
“I know how it sounds. It must sound crazy from the outside. Unbelievable. But it’s true. I swear I’m telling you the truth.”
“Either you’re the world’s most creative liar, or it’s true.” Leah believed her. Even though logic said it was impossible, she believed her. “I don’t understand how they can do this. How it can go on, and no one knows.”
“It’s a secret. The girls keep the secret. And if you even think about telling, they… Well, you get warned. And they threaten you. They threaten your family, they threaten to expose you.”
“But exposing you would expose them, wouldn’t it?”
Marty snorted. “They’re untouchable. They’re priests. They’re men of God. They’re revered. They can do no wrong.”
“What if I told someone?” Leah mused. “What would happen to me?”
“Don’t!” Marty clutched at the front of Leah’s nightgown, sounding panicked, horrified. “Don’t even think about it!”
“Okay I won’t,” Leah assured her.
“You have no idea what they could do to you,” Marty sounded truly terrified. “To your family, your whole life. Remember what I said happened to the girls who tried to tell?”
Leah had grown up in Catholic schools, surrounded by nuns and priests, people who had devoted their entire lives to good and to God. She couldn’t imagine any of them doing such things. But Marty was adamant, and why would she lie? What motivation did she have? It was a paradox Leah couldn’t quite manage.
“When are you supposed to go?”
“Couple weeks. The day after Halloween.”
“All Saints’ Day.” Leah frowned. “So your parents don’t know?”
“No! Of course not! I’ve never told anyone. Except you.”
Leah turned her face toward Marty in the darkness. “Why me?”
“I told you, I didn’t want you to worry. You’re the person I trust most here. Heck, anywhere.”
“I’m more worried now.” Leah smiled at the irony. “But thank you for trusting me.”
Marty snuggled closer, her bare leg flung across Leah’s, and whispered, “You’re my best friend.”
Leah thought of Erica. She felt a little as if she was betraying her friend back home with this girl. But they had shared things, so much, their experience a common ground, instantly binding them together. Marty was searching her face, looking for something.
“There’s another reason I told you.” Marty took a deep breath. “I want you to come with me.”
“What? No, I couldn’t...”
“You wouldn’t have to do anything. This is a big ritual, and there will be a lot of people. They bring in girls to do things, like hand out food, keep drinks filled. It’s more like being a waitress than anything else.”
Leah considered it. “I wouldn’t have to… you know…?�
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“No! You’re not a Mary or a Magdalene, you wouldn’t be part of the secret rituals,” Marty assured her. “We’re allowed to bring a guest, not into the inner sanctum of course, but in the outer realm. Would you come with me?”
“I don’t know...”
“No one will know you. We wear masks. Like a masquerade. And they’ll pay you. It’s fifty dollars for the night. All you do is serve drinks and refill appetizers. It’s easy.”
“Fifty dollars! So much!”