Chapter 6

The morning sun filtered through the window shade in Sister Gabrielle’s bedroom. It spread warmly over her face like a heavenly light. Her eyes fluttered open with a content smile on her face. She hadn’t slept that well in a long time. Lying on her back, she stretched her arms into the air and spread her fingers. Something dug into her lower back. Sister Gabrielle reached for it and pulled out the pocketbook novel.

Memories of the previous night lazily floated through her mind. She wondered what happened to the heroine now that she had lost her job. And what about the man? Would he be there for her? Lying on her back, holding the paperback in the air above her, she thumbed through the pages looking for where she had left off. It was unlike her to be so careless. And then her eyes opened wide. She remembered more of last night.

Sister Gabrielle shrugged. She felt too good to worry about the other thing. She found her place in the pocketbook and started reading, still lying on her back with the pocketbook held above her, but she brought it down. She needed to get ready. She snapped the pocketbook shut with her thumb holding the place and rolled onto her hip. She slid the bookmark out of the book on the end table and put it into the pocketbook. She then rolled out of bed and buried the pocketbook in her underwear drawer and got ready for the day.

At the end of the class Cara was in, the young girl stopped by Sister Gabrielle’s desk on the way out and asked, “Do you like the book?”

In a low voice, Sister Gabrielle said, “It’s well written.”

“And hot. It’s one of my favorites.”

Sister Gabrielle looked around to make sure no one was listening. “You shouldn’t be reading that kind of book.”

“Why not? You said it was well written.”

“But you should not be reading about the way adults behave.”

“I have to learn somehow. They don’t teach that stuff here.”

“For good reason. Where’d you get it, anyway?”

“My mom has tons of them. She reads them all the time.”

“You stole it?”

“I borrowed it. You can give it back to me when you’re done and I’ll loan you another one.”

“You should ask your mother if it’s okay.”

“Ohmigod! She’d ground me forever if she knew that I know where she hides them. She hides them with her toys.”

“Your mother has toys?”

Cara giggled. “She has some. I borrow them too.”

“You and your mother play with toys? What kind of—?”

“Did you use the scissors?”

Sister Gabrielle’s forehead creased. “I wanted to talk to you about that. That was inappropriate.”

“So did you?”

“Of course not.”

“You should. You’d be cleaner down there. It’s more sanitary. Aren’t we always told that cleanliness is godliness?” Cara looked over her shoulder at the clock on the back wall. “Gotta go. See you tomorrow.”

Cara dashed out of the classroom, her bookbag slung over one shoulder and her other hand waving goodbye above her head.

At the end of the day, Sister Gabrielle was back in her bedroom dressed in her nightgown. She rummaged through her underwear drawer seeking the paperback novel. Her eyes landed on the scissors lying on top of the dresser.

Cleanliness is godliness. Yes, that was taught in the younger grades.

Sister Gabrielle dragged her long nightgown up to the underside of her breasts, exposing her belly and legs, and dug her chin in her chest. She spread her knees while thrusting her hips forward. The dark thicket of hair was everywhere. Cara’s shaved genitals did look cleaner. She glanced at the scissors again and then back at her pubic hair. She wouldn’t even know where to begin. And if she cut herself, how would she explain walking funny to the Reverend Mother? Or worse. The need for medical treatment. She left the scissors on the dresser and took out the paperback novel.

She breezed through ten pages and then twenty. Her heart raced when the woman’s landlord, after she told him that she lost her job and was short on rent money, threatened to evict her unless she was nice to him. He was a disgusting old man. Big belly, oily hair, yellow teeth. Sister Gabrielle had never hated anyone her entire life, there wasn’t room in her heart for hatred, it was filled with compassion and forgiveness, but she despised this man. Her heart went out to the distraught woman, praying she wouldn’t give in to the landlord’s wicked demands. And just when the heroine was about to, the hero came to the rescue and asked her to move in with him. The first night sleeping together was filled with sexual tension and then lovemaking. Sister Gabrielle’s blood warmed, and when the woman in the book had her orgasm, Sister Gabrielle tossed the pocketbook aside. Her knees rose and her nightgown slid down her thighs. Her fingers found her hairy crotch and knew where to go without thinking. She rubbed the area, squishing her hidden clitoris until her thighs clamped shut around her hand and her hips humped.

Her squeal was more subdued than the previous night, but the feeling was the same. Her feet slid forward on the mattress until her legs were straight. She fell asleep with her nightgown bunched at her pelvis.

Sister Gabrielle once again awoke after having a restful sleep. She found her place in the pocketbook novel, inserted the bookmark, and hid it in her underwear drawer. She was almost bubbly in her classes. Some of her students even mentioned it. When Cara walked by her desk after class, she stopped and whispered, “Where are you up to in the book?”

“Come to my office at the end of the day. I have something for you.”

When classes ended, Cara came into Sister Gabrielle’s office. This time there was no fear on her face. She smiled at the nun who was sitting behind her desk. Sister Gabrielle lifted the small scissors from her desktop and held them out.

“I’m returning these,” Sister Gabrielle said.

“Did you use them?”

“No, of course not. They’ve never been used. You can return them.”

“I gave them to you because I thought you needed them.”

“I don’t.”

“Trust me, Sister, you do.”

“Cara, that’s impertinent.”

“I don’t mean to be rude. I’m trying to help.”

“Look, I thought about it, but...” Sister Gabrielle lowered her eyes. Cara waited. The nun looked up. “I wouldn’t even know how to do it.” She waved the scissors in the air. “Just take them back.”

“I can show you how,” Cara said.

“That’s absurd!”

“Why, I’ve already seen it. Let me help you.”

Sister Gabrielle sat behind her desk staring at her young student. She was serious. She looked so sincere ... and sweet. Sister Gabrielle had never realized how beautiful Cara was with her bright blue eyes and long blonde hair, a very pale yellow. Her skin was flawless, not like some of the girls with acne, smooth with a slight tan. The girl had helped her before like no other, why not with this?

No, that was absurd! She had made a mistake and promised herself that it would never happen again. Her eyes returned to Cara. The girl was staring at her with her big blue eyes. There was no mischievousness in them. No sin. The girl wanted to help. The sweet girl who had already seen her naked. Cara was so much younger than her, yet had taught her things about her body she had never known. Living a sheltered life had its disadvantages. The girl simply wanted to help.

Sister Gabrielle stood up and walked to the door. She locked it and went to the chair next to the one Cara was sitting on. She hesitated before reaching underneath her long habit and dragging her underwear down and off. Then she pulled her habit up to her waist, front and back, and sat down on the chair on her bare butt. The habit was bunched in her lap.

“Sister,” Cara said, staring at the large folds of thick black material, “I think you’re going to have to take that off. It will be in the way.”

Doubt filled Sister Gabrielle’s mind. Cara was asking her to disrobe in front of her. She had done it before, but had told herself it would never happen again. That it had been a one-time thing. But Cara was only concerned about her. Maybe she would be better off with less hair down there. It would be easier to keep clean.

Sister Gabrielle stood up, removed her headpiece, and then her habit. Once again she stood in front of her young student in nothing but a bra. She sat back down with her legs pressed together.

Sister Gabrielle looked down at the mass of brown curly hair and then, with the scissors held in her thumb and index finger, looked at Cara with pleading eyes.

“Just start cutting,” Cara said.

Sister Gabrielle moved the scissors to her groin and spread the blades. She hesitated. Her hand trembled. She pulled her hand away.

“I can’t,” Sister Gabrielle said. “I’m afraid. Let’s forget this.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Cutting myself.”

“You’re just cutting the hair.”

“But what if I nick myself? This is stupid.”

Sister Gabrielle stood up. Cara leaped from her seat and snatched the scissors from her hand.

“I’ll do it,” Cara said. “Sit down.”

“I can’t let you—”

“After what we’ve already done, what’s the big deal? I’ll teach you how to do it and then you will know how. Please sit down. Let me do this for you.”

Sister Gabrielle stared at her young student. She hadn’t even known her hand was shielding her groin until she sat down and, when she closed her legs, realized it was there. She slid her hand to the side and pressed her legs together.

“Do you have a wastepaper basket or something?” Cara asked.

“What?” Sister Gabrielle stared at the girl as if she were from Mars.