From Those We Love the Most

Part 6

                He’d yearn for her later in the safety of his clandestine bed. How can a bed be clandestine? If you are asking yourself this, you have never been Catholic.

                “Can I walk you home later?” he asked her fast before Sister Hazel was returned.

                “Maybe.” That answer itself was a farce:  Anne was giving her a ride home later. But she couldn’t let the bright boy down, she just couldn’t.

               

                “All right, let us pray,” Sister Hazel coughed later. They all linked hands. Sister Hazel’s hands were like cold lunchmeat. Veronica and Charlie made grimaces only near-children could manage convincingly. “Lord, thank you for this day, and thank you for our gifts. Our gifts of each other and our gifts of a more creative nature. Creativity is a pathway to divinity. Amen.”

               

                Then they played. Lithe fingers pounded away at keys of false ivory.

                Noise. Sister Hazel suppressed in her mind, squinting away at ever half-second. But Veronica played beautifully; Charlie was just guided by a series of random mistakes.

                “I don’t think you’ve been practicing, Charlie.” Sister Hazel smiled. She still looked a lot like a girl when she smiled.

                “I haven’t.” He was honest and passed an obvious glance at the clock.

                God. Strength. Sister Hazel got up to get another caffeine-poisoned drink.