Something to Keep in Mind

The outside world was unknown to her, but she could see a glimpse of it through the window in his room. Fetters bit into her reddish brown skin. Her deep gray-brown eyes looked like bruises and chafing. Discomfort ran through her entire being. Lashana Ballard sensed the ache. The burning and the weightiness combined to form a single emotion: anguish.

As the fetters clattered, she heard footsteps. Dressed in all black except for a white veil, this would-be nun desired to wear a little black dress and pumps instead. She hadn’t even changed from last night. Much more modest footwear sat in front of the foot locker. Black as well, they looked dowdy and without shine.

Footsteps grew louder, closer. She prepared for the door to swing open. It cracked like a spine from a fall during a horseback riding excursion.

“Ah, Sister Ballard. You have awoken,” Father Abu announced. He inched closer to the bed and leaned in for a kiss and a hand up her tunic. He violated her again within just a few minutes. He finished and then clothed.

“Ooh, feisty! Just like last night. I like that. You get to have your phone if you complete your chores. We’ll see how you perform the duties I’ve outlined for you to do, but first, breakfast. He unfettered her and proceeded out of the room. Follow me,” Father Abu commanded. A critically white smile spread across his light brown face.

Lashana rubbed her wrists and ankles. No problem presented itself with the humble shoes she wore. As she dressed herself and walked down the stairs to the breakfast table, Father Abu showed and exited the hall. Lashana took her place. Seven other women sat around a large oak table.

Bacon and eggs, french toast, pancakes, and waffles stacked high like edible skyscrapers. Butter, syrup, coffee, and orange juice all graced the eating place. Lashana piled her plate.

Candles burned around all of them as everything was fed by gas. Lashana looked at the faces. She discovered them to be glum, distorted, cheery, and sedate.

When she finally had reached her designated seating position, the head Mother Ibrahim, finished her plate and the women all got up. Lashana’s plate lifted in the air without her taking a single bite.

This abrupt action agitated her. She could understand not being able to talk to the other women, but to bar her from eating?

Nonetheless, she got up from the table and walked in a single file to find her work station. It was at the foot of a gigantic crucifix with Jesus of Nazareth struggling and bleeding in his horrific display.

“You must wash this floor with a brush and soap and water,” Mother Ibrahim instructed.

“Okay,” Lashana.

“I am Mother Ibrahim. You will address me as such. Now, is that clear to you?”

“Yes, Mother Ibrahim,” Lashana replied.

“Good. If you do well enough you may get a five minute break,” she commented.

“Oh, boy,” Lashana said. Mother Ibrahim slapped Lashana’s mouth.

“You do as you're told without the sass. Looks like someone just lost her break privilege.” Mother Ibrahim exited out of the chapel area to check on the other women.

A murky bucket of water stood next to Lashana’s foot. The suds swirled like galaxies in the container. Lashana dropped to her knees and scrubbed the floor. The whole time, she schemed on her captors. As she cleansed the dust and filth away from the floor, her mind stayed focused on keeping her sanity and finding a way out of the hell in which she found herself.

Without sloshing, she took the bucket of water and soap and the brush and began to scrub the inner and outer aisles and finished with the floor just under the altar.

A nun named Sister Ganza came into her presence. She was squat, a bit portly but glowed in her speech.

“Hi, Sister Lashana. It’s so great to have you here. Wow! you’ve done an excellent job! Come. It’s time for lunch. Don’t be late this time.”

Lashana’s stomach growled like a tiger and her hunger was just as fierce. She ensured she found a place before the others. They filed in like ants wearing their black and white dress.

Again, the spread was incredible. Mountains of submarine sandwiches with oil oozing from the bread with turkey, roast beef, and ham and cheese laid across the top of the table.

Lashana devoured two small slices of the sub and reached for a third.

“You’ve been waiting for this meal, I see,” Sister Ganza giggled.

Lashana just shook her head and bit down on the piece. The morsels mixed in her mouth in a delicate dance of flavors. Then, Mother Ibrahim rose from her seat like the mythology of the Son on the third day. The women jumped from their seats.

“Resume your work in different stations,” Mother Ibrahim made it an imperative. The women dispersed.

“Not you, Sister Lashana.”

“You must go to the shed and trim the hedges of the grounds.”

“Yes, Mother.” Upon reaching the shed, she saw shears and clippers and a paring knife. Fatal thoughts flashed through her mind. She reached for the paring knives which gleamed in the sunlight and contrasted against the green shrubbery. With each clip, Lashana took pride in her efforts despite the conditions.

Every move she made produced a cleaner and smoother line of bushes. It felt like she could landscape the entire grounds. The sky darkened and evening eased into the setting. Lashana finished up her work and kept the paring knife under her tunic.

At dinner, she arrived first. Father Abu sat for this meal with the other women. As they found their seats, they immediately looked at the fish dinner. Haddock, pollack, salmon, cod, whiting, catfish, and swordfish all filled the table. Heaps of coleslaw piled on a dish. French fries enticed everyone. Cornbread, piping hot with butter and honey beside the slices. Father Abu sat at the opposite end of Mother Ibrahim.

This time, when she stood up, Father Abu continued eating while the other women exited from the space. Lashana stayed back, though.

“Sister Lashana, it’s time for bed, you must wash up and….” Mother Ibrahim began.

“No, Mother. Let the Sister stay with me and finish her meal,” Father Abu corrected.

Mother Ibrahim’s eyes narrowed as she slipped away from the dining hall.

“How was your first day here?” Father Abu asked. He wiped his mouth.

“It was something to keep in my mind,” Lashana replied.

Mother Ibrahim stepped into the shed and noticed the paring knife had been absent.

She brought her hand to her mouth upon realizing what had happened. She called the police and ran.

Lashana got up from her seat and walked seductively towards Father Abu.

“You want to finish what happened in your room this morning. The Father smiled. “Let’s see about it. You’ve done so well today. Here’s your phone I promised.”

Lashana tapped on the recorder.

With no one in the hall, the faint cries of Sister Ibrahim grew louder and louder. Lashana kissed Abu and retracted the knife from her back pocket and plunged it in his chest just as Sister Ibrahim entered the hall.

Blood spurted from his chest and pooled around him. He convulsed as Sister Ibrahim sought to contain Lashana. She was splattered in blood. She heaved.

“Now, you don’t want to make this worse,” Mother Ibrahim stood at the opposite side of the table. “Father Abu told me about your sin against him. No one is going to care about the advances. No one is going to care about the Father’s abuses. You are now a murderer and will pay for what you’ve done.”

“And you’ve just admitted that my self-defense was warranted.” She held up her phone that had been on Abu’s person.

The red and blue flashing of the Delaware State Police car illuminated the front of the building.

Lashana chased after the Mother until she got outside where officers approached her and placed cuffs on her. They took in her bloody smartphone and added it to evidence. Lashana looked at the other women with sorrowful faces and looks of sheer terror.

Lashana, though, smiled with blood on her teeth and a single virtue resting in her mind: justice.