Part 15 (1/2)
”Because I did so well. Actually, it's a special deal.” She gave an exaggerated wink, opening her mouth and scrunching the right side of her face. ”They don't usually do that, but they really want me to go on with this.”
”Well, if you're sure. What do you feel like?”
”Action!”
”I meant food.”
”Anything but barbecue.”
I thought a minute. ”Indian?”
”Shawnee or Paiute?”
Harry hooted. She always loved her own jokes.
”The Etoile des Indes is just a few blocks from here. They make a great khorma.”
”Yippee. I don't think I've ever eaten an Indian. And I know I've never eaten a French Indian. Anyway, I don't think you can eat karma.”
I could only shake my head.
”I look like forty miles of bad road,” said Harry, singling out several long strands for inspection. ”I'm going to do a few repairs.”
I went to my bedroom, changed into jeans, then got pen and paper and propped myself against the pillows on my bed. I opened the first ledger and noted the date of the earliest entry: January 1, 1844. Selecting one of the library books, I flipped to the section on elisabeth Nicolet and checked the day of her birth. January 18, 1846. Her uncle had begun this volume two years before she was born.
Though Louis-Philippe Belanger wrote with a strong hand, time had faded his entries. The ink was a dull brown, and at places the words were too blurry to read. In addition, the French was antiquated and replete with unfamiliar terms. After thirty minutes my head was pounding and I'd taken few notes.
I lay back and closed my eyes. I could still hear water running in the bathroom. I was tired and discouraged and pessimistic. I'd never get through this in two days. I'd do better to spend a few hours at the copy machine, then work through the ledgers at my leisure. Jeannotte hadn't said anything about not not copying the material. And it was probably safer for the originals, I reasoned. copying the material. And it was probably safer for the originals, I reasoned.
And I didn't have to find the answer right away. After all, my report didn't require an explanation. I saw what I saw in the bones. I would report my findings, and let the good sisters come to me with theorizations. Or questions.
Perhaps they wouldn't understand. Perhaps they wouldn't believe me. They probably wouldn't welcome the news. Or would they? Would it affect their application to the Vatican? I couldn't help that. I was certain I was right about elisabeth. I just couldn't imagine what it meant.
11.
TWO HOURS LATER HARRY SHOOK ME AWAKE. SHE HAD FINISHED bathing, blow drying, and whatever else the repair process required. We bundled up and headed out, winding our way to rue Ste-Catherine. The snow had stopped, but a layer blanketed everything, slightly m.u.f.fling the city clamor. Signs, trees, mailboxes, and parked cars wore fluffy caps of white. bathing, blow drying, and whatever else the repair process required. We bundled up and headed out, winding our way to rue Ste-Catherine. The snow had stopped, but a layer blanketed everything, slightly m.u.f.fling the city clamor. Signs, trees, mailboxes, and parked cars wore fluffy caps of white.
The restaurant was not crowded and we were seated immediately. When we'd ordered, I asked about her workshop.
”It's awesome. I've learned whole new ways of thinking and being. I don't mean some kinda Eastern mysticism cow flop. And I'm not talking about potions or crystals or that astral projection s.h.i.+t. I mean I am learning how to take control of my life.”
”How?”
”How?”
”How.”
”I'm learning self-ident.i.ty, I'm undergoing empowerment through spiritual awakening. I'm gaining internal peace through holistic health and healing.”
”Spiritual awakening?”
”Now don't get me wrong, Tempe. This isn't some rebirthing thing like the d.a.m.n evangelists preach down home. There's none of that repenting, and making a joyful noise unto the Lord, and the righteous walking through flames and all.”
”How is it different?”
”That all has to do with d.a.m.nation, and guilt, and accepting your lot as a sinner, and turning yourself over to the Lord so He'll take care of you. I didn't buy that agenda from the nuns, and thirty-eight years of living haven't changed my mind.”
Harry and I had spent our early days in Catholic schools.
”This has to do with me taking care of myself.” She stabbed a manicured finger at her chest.
”How?”
”Tempe, are you trying to ridicule me?”
”No. I'd like to know how one does this.”
”It's a matter of interpreting your own mind and body, then purifying yourself.”
”Harry, you're just giving me jargon. How do you do this?”
”Well, you eat right and you breathe right and-did you notice that I pa.s.sed up the beer? That's part of purifying.”
”Did you pay a lot of money for this seminar?”
”I told you. They waived my fees and they flat out gave me the plane ticket.”
”What about in Houston?”
”Well, yeah, of course I paid some fees. They have to charge something. These are very prominent people.”
Just then our food arrived. I'd ordered lamb khorma. Harry had vegetable curry and rice.
”See?” She pointed to her dish. ”No more dead carca.s.ses for me. I am getting clear.”
”Where did you find this course?”
”At the North Harris County Community College.”
That sounded legit.
”When do you start here?”
”Tomorrow. The seminar goes for five days. I'll tell you all about, it, really I will. I'll come home every night and fill you in on exactly what we did. It's O.K. if I stay with you, isn't it?”