Friday, November 5, 2010

Jack Trades: Master of Nuns Chapter 1

I took some time out of doing NanoWriMo to just go mad with a very different character and storyline to Translator. I just needed to get this out of me and to relax. Enjoy...also Blogs and formatting do not go well together.

Chapter 1 – Why?

I thought owning a nunnery would be pretty cool. Of course, this would be completely uncool, when I found it what a nunnery was. I thought a nunnery was a place where they make nun-chucks and actually taught you how to use them and considering my Uncle James actually showed me Bruce Lee films when I was younger, I thought that's what I would be inheriting. Fucking Uncle James, you think you know someone who thinks they know you. Well now we know who's the victor, him, because he's dead and I'm stuck with a fucking nunnery.
I came here only a few days ago and already the girls are biting at my heels. Church this, Jesus that, freshen your tea this, oh your lordship that. I had felt that already there was enough going on my life. But I did make a promise to my Uncle James. Bastard.
My main room was a dank and terrible little stone-walled area near the back of the castle. It was a castle, so I guess that was a pretty sweet deal, but it was like old and falling apart and being twenty I only new so much about repairs, let alone castle repairs. I had a few skills but nothing you'd call a profession. In fact, my profession before coming to the Castle de Nun's, I was working two jobs, one in a hardware store and a late-night pizza delivery driver. I was just making rent and hearing my Uncle's death was exactly what I didn't need personally or financially.
Did you know nunnery's are based financially solely on donations? No one makes money on nunnery's, except maybe Jesus or God, but what are they gonna do with money. I had this conversation this morning with one of the head nun's, Sister Mary. She's pretty cool for a nun and I'm sure she was actually prepared to take over when Uncle James died. I, on the other hand, wasn't.
'So I don't make any money whatsoever on this investment?', I was holding my temper in but Sister Mary had already seen me at my worst.
'No money, Jack', she seemed to frown at me, 'we don't make any money', but I couldn't really tell with hardly any lighting in my room, 'but we do have visitors come every day', she seemed to sound chipper when she said this, but I couldn't be bothered to listen.
'So how do we keep the maintenance for this place, I can barely see you with the whole head dress thingy on', I think I pointed to her, but she could have been standing in the corner for all I knew. I heard a rustle of clothes and there Sister Mary was sitting right in front of me. She had blonde hair, maybe and blue eyes, also maybe, but I continued on my single-tracked tirade.
'Sister Mary?', I asked, because they all looked the same really, except for the fat one's and the ugly one's. She replied in the affirmative
'Well, what are we gonna do about our financial situation?' I continued.
Right then, a fat and ugly one did burst through the door, she was Sister Margaret, no doubt about it.
'I have a proposed idea, Master Trades', she called out in her thick Irish accent.
'You have an idea to propose', I corrected her. I guess English wasn't taught at nunnery's
'Indeed', she clammered into the room and slammed the door behind her. The room began to get darker with every footstep and I had my first bout of claustrophobia
'How did you know what we were saying?', I was curious I couldn't sense her before, the way she looked.
'I was hanging outside yer door', she said and I smelt...something, I'd rather not say.
'So what's your idea?' Sister Mary was more curious than I.
'A bake sale, Father Jack' she groaned and then I did too, but without syllables. I placed my hand over my face, for protection. Her height and width were able to be hidden by my hand but the smell of the room and her was still seeping through my fingers.
'I'm not a father, Sister Margaret',  the constant reminding was tedious, 'How much money can we really make from a bake sale?', I coughed out.
'A bit', Sister Mary called out, 'we get free products from the local farmer's market, so it'll all be profit'. I nodded but that could have been my head trying to escape from my neck.
'I do understand that yer the owner of this place now, but we deserves some respects', her stout stature made me imagine that respects was some kind of pie and I burst out with laughter. Probably the worst time to do so, but I still laughed and then composed myself.
'Sorry, but yes, you all do deserve respect and look, only doing nothing can hurt', I cleared my throat and tried not to think of pies as respect.
'That's yer spirit', she exclaimed, making the stone walls echo quite loudly.
'The', I quietly corrected her.
'I'll tell the sister's to get crackin' on some biscuits and cake's', the thought of respect tippy-toed into my head again but I bit my lip.
'Go tell, your sister's, or whatever, yeah, go' She turned and started heading towards the door. Upon swinging it open, the light was quite welcome and a breeze came in and the musty smell out was gone briefly. However, shutting it brought Mary and I back into our cold damp surroundings again. I think the mouse were peeing on the walls just to have some colour.
'Well, I guess that solves one problem', I had a feeling Sister Mary was used to Sister Margaret's smell and so the joke was lost on this one.
'Thank you my lordship', she bowed or nodded or something.
'Please don't call me that', it was embarassing and, 'I don't think that's a title', Sister Mary got up and began to leave. I thought of all the things I missed at home and that's when she turned around.
'Especially not for someone who just inherited a nunnery', I sighed and scratched my forehead wondering if spiders were in it; not that I could see them anyway.
'Why did you agree?' Sister Mary asked me.
'Oh, well, mainly because so she would leave and partly, because I made a promise to my Uncle James
'Even promise with a dead man are greater than living ones?
'Yeah pretty much', I shrugged.
'You promise?', she smiled
'Just wait till I'm dead', I smiled too and she put her head dress thingy back on and left. I thought my first day had gone remarkably well considering I knew nothing about nun's, nunnery's or bake sales, but I tried to think about home as much as possible to make sure that any light in this room seemed brighter than it probably ever could be.

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