Merry Sister Mary and the One and Only Killer

8: Sister Mary Gets Suspicious

It wasn't a great joke but it was enough to end the awkward silence and bring conversation back to the table. Gloria laughed the hardest. So hard in fact that chicken in all of its delicious glory slithered out of her nose. That poor roasted and battered bird. Never would its fowl little mind had known that someday it would be cooked and served on a porcelain plate during a dinner party honoring a dead man. It would have never imagined its flesh entering the digestive tract of a girl just so it could be hocked up through the nasal passages and deposited on an upper lip after a crude joke about its prepared corpse.

"Oh my God," said Gloria wiping away the poultry surprise. "I can't believe I just did that."

"I can't believe either," I said in response. "I'm impressed."

"Ugh," said Gloria disgusted. "I got to go the bathroom." The girl exited the room holding her nose. Michael was laughing too.

"You keep surprising me, Sister Mary. You are filled with joy."

"Filled with something," mocked Pearl while rolling her eyes.

"Hush your mouth, child," snapped Mrs. Stanton. "Remember you are speaking to a nun."

"It is quite alright, Mrs. Stanton," I said. "It's uncommon for a nun to crack jokes. It's why my sisters sent me this way. They wanted me to learn a thing or two about the proper composure of nunley sacrifice. Most people forget they are speaking to a daughter of God when they meet me. I don't want people to treat me like I am so high and mighty, a saint when certainly I am not." Pearl smiled and nodded her head. It seems I may have made a breakthrough to the young girl.

Across the table the woman dressed in the white miniskirt and flower-patterned top silently picked at her meal. I recalled her name, Mrs. Annette, the family neighbor and gardener. The whole night she has not said one word. I figured it would be best now to at least make some ideal conversation as it was the proper thing to do.

"Mrs. Annette, was it?" I asked suddenly. The woman jumped in her chair and dropped her fork. Her face flushed with embarrassment. She fixed the glasses on her head and turned to me with a strenuous smile.

"Yes, sister?"

"You've been awfully quiet. Barely heard your fork hit your plate until now."

"I apologize. Forgive me. I'm not myself tonight."

"Well don't let my presence frighten you," I said.

"Not at all, Sister Mary." Mrs. Annette smiled awkwardly. "I'm fine. Really." Michael leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"She is always like this. Very timid. How about you start by complimenting her flowers." I nodded. Michael shifted in his chair and continued eating.

"Did you make these arrangements?" I asked pointing to the flower arrangements surrounding the room. "Janet said you were the family gardener."

"Yes," said the woman in a soft voice. "I made these arrangements this morning. All picked from the garden. Do you like them?"

"They are beautiful," I said. "Quite the creative talent."

"Thank you, sister." The woman moved her hair out of her face. "My name is Annette Barnette. Sorry for the late introduction. It is a pleasure to meet you, Sister Mary. I live next door but most of my time is spent here."

"Have you been tending the estate gardens for some time?"

"My late husband was head gardener a few years back. Ever since he passed away I've been coming over and planting flowers. Some of his favorite plants still grow. I'm too afraid to let them die. I guess you could say I'm too attached to the little things. My home doesn't have much yard you see so I enjoy coming here to plant."