"...sinned," the nun stopped weaving the small collection of sticks together long enough to gesture at him.
"Uh.. Bless me..Father..for I have sinned.."
"It has been 'blank' days since my last confession."
"Blank days.."
"Oh, ye fill in the blank with how long it has been since ye have confessed," she nodded.
Toby looked down from the large marble church in front of them..over to the nun sitting at his right. Her thick red fingers worked meticulously on the new wooden cross.
"What do I say..if I've never done it before.."
"Well, ye say.. Come now, laddy, ye can't say that ye've ne'er confessed your sins. Ye had a church where ye came from, didn't ye? And there was a priest there to absolve ye?"
He shook his head, looked away from her round face and reflective glasses..back up at the fanning staircase leading up to a pair of large, dark wooden doors. A breeze washed over his face and into his hair..warm like breath because of the sun directly over their heads.
"We did..but it wasn't one like this.. I didn't go inside very much.. Not that many people did.. A lot of us worked..all the time.. Mostly it was just a big building.." He shrugged.
"Posh. Sundays are sacred days. Thou shalt honor the Sabbath and keep it holy. Did your parents ne'er suggest that ye go as a family?"
Toby smiled softly and shook his head again. He felt a little weird..lying to her..but he didn't want to tell her that his father thought it was a waste of time.. He didn't think she would argue with him..though it was better to be safe than sorry..
"Och, what is this world comin' to when a child's parents ne'er bring him to church." He saw her shadow shake its head, heard the funny cloth she wore on it flap.
They sat in silence, with her weaving the small crucifix and he staring up at the church. It was one of the prettiest buildings in the city, he thought. One of the only white ones he'd seen. The sun almost glinted off the marble stones, turned colors when it hit the stained glass windows. When people went in and out, the wooden doors squeaked and moaned and he could sometimes hear singing..
It was nice..here.. Warm.. He didn't usually feel completely safe when he was outside..but sitting on the edge of the small, broken fountain in front of the church's wide staircase..felt like he was in a fluffy, comfy bed and hiding under the covers..
"I've been meanin' to ask ye, laddy. Ye have been sitting out here every single day for the past four days." Toby shifted his bare feet on the ground..his fingers curled into the rounded edge of the fountain. "No matter what time I look out here, there ye be. It isn't as though I'm questionin' your interest in our Lord," she paused to wrap an almost invisible piece of twine around each prong of the cross, then laid it in her lap. She turned to face him and he felt the soft, warm pressure of her blue green eyes on his shoulders. "But I have been wondering about why ye ne'er seem to go inside. It's lovelier there, and a lot more comfortable than this old fountain." She chuckled softly. Her gaze left him. He glanced over at her, seeing her looking up at the church too. Her face looked soft. "There are countless candelabra, beautiful statues of angels and," she leaned toward him like she was telling a secret, "ye will be able to see a great deal more windows."
"Windows.." His head tilted.. That would..be pretty..
"Aye, windows. Don't think I haven't seen ye starin', laddy. Not that I blame you, the craftsmanship is quite exquisite. Come," she pushed off of the edge of the fountain with the groans and noises of an old lady and brushed off her lap. The wooden cross was held gently in her left hand. "I shall take ye on a tour." She sounded..a little excited.
Toby swallowed and looked down at his knees. He fingered the edge of the fountain, slid his feet back and forth on the ground..and finally shook his head.
"You don't..have to.."
"I know that, laddy. I would like to. There is a difference."
He dug his fingernails in against the stone of the fountain. "I can't.." he muttered, hoping that she wouldn't hear.. Old people..didn't hear that well..right..
"Ye can't? Nonsense, the Lord's house is always open, even to those that think they don't deserve it."
He swallowed..his shoulders hunching forward.. He could feel her watching him again.
"Why do ye think ye can't?"
His lips pressed together. "I.. I'm not..safe.. And..I like it out here.. It's okay.." He didn't want her to ask any more questions.. It hadn't ever really occurred to him that he could go inside.. Even when he was looking for information on exorcism..he had always stood on the front steps..
He had heard stories of a holy city..that didn't allow Claymores or Yoma to enter it..much less its church.. They would taint it..or the people there..
This place was pretty.. He didn't want to ruin it..
"What makes ye think that ye aren't safe?"
He shook his head immediately. The nun sighed and shook her head again too. Her clothes rustled. He flinched when he felt her thick, warm hand on his shoulder. She didn't squeeze it, or pat it..just rested her palm there.. He slowly relaxed.
"If ye don't want to come inside, laddy, ye don't have to. After all, the Lord wants each one of His children to seek Him out themselves, not be dragged and forced to do so. Somethin' about this place agrees with ye though, doesn't it?"
He nodded quickly.
"Then that's all that matters. I must leave ye now, though. If ye're still here later, I'll arrange another visit with ye. But if ye need something before then, all ye have to do is knock and ask for Sister Matilda, ye got it?"
"Sister.." he began, swallowed thickly. He couldn't get past her real name. His lips twitched..he bit on them to get them to stop.. In the end, he nodded at her again. She patted him on his shoulder, turned..then walked back up the fanning steps. The doors groaned. She'd gone back inside.
He closed his eyes..lifted his face up to the sun. His eyelids looked red orange..started burning. He focused on that..instead of her name, or going inside the church..their short conversation..
In a few minutes, all that was important was the soft breeze and the warmth on his skin.
"Uh.. Bless me..Father..for I have sinned.."
"It has been 'blank' days since my last confession."
"Blank days.."
"Oh, ye fill in the blank with how long it has been since ye have confessed," she nodded.
Toby looked down from the large marble church in front of them..over to the nun sitting at his right. Her thick red fingers worked meticulously on the new wooden cross.
"What do I say..if I've never done it before.."
"Well, ye say.. Come now, laddy, ye can't say that ye've ne'er confessed your sins. Ye had a church where ye came from, didn't ye? And there was a priest there to absolve ye?"
He shook his head, looked away from her round face and reflective glasses..back up at the fanning staircase leading up to a pair of large, dark wooden doors. A breeze washed over his face and into his hair..warm like breath because of the sun directly over their heads.
"We did..but it wasn't one like this.. I didn't go inside very much.. Not that many people did.. A lot of us worked..all the time.. Mostly it was just a big building.." He shrugged.
"Posh. Sundays are sacred days. Thou shalt honor the Sabbath and keep it holy. Did your parents ne'er suggest that ye go as a family?"
Toby smiled softly and shook his head again. He felt a little weird..lying to her..but he didn't want to tell her that his father thought it was a waste of time.. He didn't think she would argue with him..though it was better to be safe than sorry..
"Och, what is this world comin' to when a child's parents ne'er bring him to church." He saw her shadow shake its head, heard the funny cloth she wore on it flap.
They sat in silence, with her weaving the small crucifix and he staring up at the church. It was one of the prettiest buildings in the city, he thought. One of the only white ones he'd seen. The sun almost glinted off the marble stones, turned colors when it hit the stained glass windows. When people went in and out, the wooden doors squeaked and moaned and he could sometimes hear singing..
It was nice..here.. Warm.. He didn't usually feel completely safe when he was outside..but sitting on the edge of the small, broken fountain in front of the church's wide staircase..felt like he was in a fluffy, comfy bed and hiding under the covers..
"I've been meanin' to ask ye, laddy. Ye have been sitting out here every single day for the past four days." Toby shifted his bare feet on the ground..his fingers curled into the rounded edge of the fountain. "No matter what time I look out here, there ye be. It isn't as though I'm questionin' your interest in our Lord," she paused to wrap an almost invisible piece of twine around each prong of the cross, then laid it in her lap. She turned to face him and he felt the soft, warm pressure of her blue green eyes on his shoulders. "But I have been wondering about why ye ne'er seem to go inside. It's lovelier there, and a lot more comfortable than this old fountain." She chuckled softly. Her gaze left him. He glanced over at her, seeing her looking up at the church too. Her face looked soft. "There are countless candelabra, beautiful statues of angels and," she leaned toward him like she was telling a secret, "ye will be able to see a great deal more windows."
"Windows.." His head tilted.. That would..be pretty..
"Aye, windows. Don't think I haven't seen ye starin', laddy. Not that I blame you, the craftsmanship is quite exquisite. Come," she pushed off of the edge of the fountain with the groans and noises of an old lady and brushed off her lap. The wooden cross was held gently in her left hand. "I shall take ye on a tour." She sounded..a little excited.
Toby swallowed and looked down at his knees. He fingered the edge of the fountain, slid his feet back and forth on the ground..and finally shook his head.
"You don't..have to.."
"I know that, laddy. I would like to. There is a difference."
He dug his fingernails in against the stone of the fountain. "I can't.." he muttered, hoping that she wouldn't hear.. Old people..didn't hear that well..right..
"Ye can't? Nonsense, the Lord's house is always open, even to those that think they don't deserve it."
He swallowed..his shoulders hunching forward.. He could feel her watching him again.
"Why do ye think ye can't?"
His lips pressed together. "I.. I'm not..safe.. And..I like it out here.. It's okay.." He didn't want her to ask any more questions.. It hadn't ever really occurred to him that he could go inside.. Even when he was looking for information on exorcism..he had always stood on the front steps..
He had heard stories of a holy city..that didn't allow Claymores or Yoma to enter it..much less its church.. They would taint it..or the people there..
This place was pretty.. He didn't want to ruin it..
"What makes ye think that ye aren't safe?"
He shook his head immediately. The nun sighed and shook her head again too. Her clothes rustled. He flinched when he felt her thick, warm hand on his shoulder. She didn't squeeze it, or pat it..just rested her palm there.. He slowly relaxed.
"If ye don't want to come inside, laddy, ye don't have to. After all, the Lord wants each one of His children to seek Him out themselves, not be dragged and forced to do so. Somethin' about this place agrees with ye though, doesn't it?"
He nodded quickly.
"Then that's all that matters. I must leave ye now, though. If ye're still here later, I'll arrange another visit with ye. But if ye need something before then, all ye have to do is knock and ask for Sister Matilda, ye got it?"
"Sister.." he began, swallowed thickly. He couldn't get past her real name. His lips twitched..he bit on them to get them to stop.. In the end, he nodded at her again. She patted him on his shoulder, turned..then walked back up the fanning steps. The doors groaned. She'd gone back inside.
He closed his eyes..lifted his face up to the sun. His eyelids looked red orange..started burning. He focused on that..instead of her name, or going inside the church..their short conversation..
In a few minutes, all that was important was the soft breeze and the warmth on his skin.