Sister Eve and the Blue Nun (37 page)

Eve nodded. She hated the thought of her friend's sorrow and pain, but she, too, agreed that bearing anger and resentment did not lead to healing. She and her father had discussed this topic already when he argued with her about her plans to one day make her own visit to see Pierce. She had tried to get him to understand that she had to offer the gift of forgiveness to the man who had hit her and then left her to die. She had tried to explain that a visit to see the prisoner was necessary for her to find healing.

“That's good news for me too,” she said to Anthony.

He smiled, understanding that she would be visiting the man as well.

“Does that mean you aren't moving to one of the other convents? Does that mean you're staying here?”

Eve looked out over the recently plowed field beyond the walking path. The monastery leased the land to farmers. Hay had been planted and harvested in that field for as long as the monastery had been in existence. That was one of the other reasons she had loved
and now missed the monastery. It was a working farm. It was how she had always envisioned her life in a religious community.

“I wish I knew the answer to that, my brother.” She shook her head. “I have prayed and sought guidance. I have lit candles and asked for intercessory prayers.” She reached over and took the monk by the hand, knowing that he had been praying for her as well. “I even asked Sister Maria to give me another sign, something clear for me to follow, blue flowers in a field or something similar, but there's been nothing. I think it comes down to what I feel in my own heart, what is right for me, and I still don't really know what that is.”

“Sister Cathy went to Roswell,” he said, uncertain if Eve knew the whereabouts of the other nuns who had left Pecos.

“The Poor Clares,” Eve responded. “I know.” She blew out a long breath. “She invited me to visit, spend some time with her, but I don't think I could take that kind of cloistering,” she added. “I need to be out in the world a little more. And they like to get up to pray at one o'clock in the morning or something ridiculous like that.”

Anthony laughed. “I think she had to change her name and she's actually considered a novice again.”

“Sister Paul, if you can believe that,” Eve replied, having heard the news of her sister. She shook her head. “I have to say this denial of the feminine as a part of our religious tradition has become very difficult for me. That's part of the reason I'm having trouble making the decision to stay a nun.”

“It's never been easy for women in the church, that's for sure,” Anthony agreed. “Maria and the Inquisition, Joan of Arc burned at the stake, the refusal to allow them to become priests. I have to say I'm really surprised women stay in the religious life.”

“Kind of like the Native Americans,” Eve said. “I've always wondered why they remained Catholic after the Spaniards were so cruel to them.

“Did you know it was the Jumanos who were said to have ambushed a party of Spaniards near Gran Quivira and that the retaliation included the killing of nine hundred people and the taking of almost four hundred more as prisoners, more than likely sold into slavery?” While recovering from her injuries, she had been reading more of the history of the Pueblo Indians in the area.

“And yet, after Sister Maria visited them they wanted to be baptized as Catholics. And all of the Pueblos are still Catholic.” Eve leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It's amazing to me.”

A crow flew above their heads and perched on a limb of a tree close by. They both watched the bird in silence.

“Do you like solving mysteries, finding missing persons? Do you like working for your father?” Anthony wanted to know.

Eve thought about the question. “I do, actually.”

The monk nodded. “You're good at it,” he said.

Eve smiled. “Thank you, Anthony.”

“You know that you don't have to be a nun, wear the habit, live in community, take all the vows to be devoted to our Lord.”

“I know,” she agreed.

“And sometimes nuns and priests and monks choose a different path later in their lives. It doesn't mean they broke their vows or left the order, as people usually describe it. It could mean that, I guess, but it could also mean that their paths moved them in different directions. It could mean they received guidance leading them into new areas of service.”

She nodded. “Yes, that's true.”

Anthony bumped into Eve, a familial show of affection. “And you'll always be my big sister, whether you're wearing a long black robe, chanting and praying, or a leather jacket and cowboy boots, catching killers.”

Eve put her arm around the young monk. “And you will always be my little brother,” she said, giving him a hug. “Always.”

FIFTY-EIGHT

The church was full at St. Anthony's in Isleta and the service was long, with several priests offering remarks and the archbishop delivering the sermon. Eve made the trip by herself after the Captain decided not to join her. She drove her motorcycle down to the pueblo from Madrid, enjoying the summer breeze and the opportunity to be back in the saddle of her old Harley.

She sat near the back with a couple of the women from the pueblo that she knew from other worship services they had been in together, and she was able to pick out Anthony near the front with the other monks from Pecos. He seemed at peace, even though she knew he still felt great shame for what he had taken from the church. They had been in contact with each other frequently since the murder, and she knew he was working at the pueblo mission many hours, trying to make up for what he had done.

Eve glanced around the sanctuary, noticing the fresh paint and the many renovations Anthony had made. The service was the
blessing of the papers written by Sister Maria that had been returned to the pueblo. There had been a lot of speculation about where the writings would land, but in the end, they had been returned to where they had first been discovered. Eve suspected that the archbishop had not been pleased by the final decision made by the pope himself, but in true submissiveness he was offering his blessing and a rather long-winded exposition on the importance of the nun's writings and the importance of the pueblo mission churches to the Catholic Church at large.

Eve was surprised to have received a phone call in recent days from the diocese telling her that the archbishop had actually selected her to be on a special committee chosen to read and translate the writings of Sister Maria. She was greatly honored when she received the call, and she thought about it quite a lot, but after a few days she chose to refuse the opportunity. She'd had her own experience with the Blue Nun, and she decided that experience was enough for her. She did not need to continue to read or study the experiences of others.

When the service was finally over, Eve was heading out the door to the parking lot when a familiar voice called out from behind her. “Sister Evangeline.”

She turned to find Detective Earl Lujan coming in her direction. He was wearing traditional Native American clothes, brightly colored sashes, a kilt, and moccasins. He was carrying a stick adorned with feathers that Eve knew was a prayer stick used during religious ceremonies as well as during other events in the pueblos. She had noticed the group of Pueblo representatives sitting together near the monks from Pecos but had not recognized him.

“Hello,” she said, realizing that they had not seen each other since the Pierce trial. “You look different,” she said. “Nice,” she added and then felt embarrassed at having made the compliment.

“Thanks,” he responded. “You're not staying for the feast?”

Eve turned to the parking lot to locate her bike, knowing she had not expected the service to last so long. She had told the Captain she wouldn't be gone for more than three or four hours. “I really don't know many people, and I need to get back to Madrid.”

“You know your brothers from the monastery,” he said.

“Yeah, I do know them.” She took a breath, realizing she needed to explain to the detective what had happened in Pecos, the departure of the sisters, and about her recent decision regarding her vows.

“You know me,” he added, interrupting her explanation.

She blushed.

“I do,” she said. “Look, I need to clear something up.”

“You're a nun and you're not sure you want to stay a nun. You have a motorcycle, which apparently they let you keep at the monastery and take with you since you've been away.”

She was surprised and didn't know how to respond.

“And you're very good at solving mysteries and yet you feel guilty for not loving the religious life.” He shrugged. “It's a quandary, really.” And he smiled. “My people feel that all the time. Are we Catholic or are we traditional? Do we have Mass or do we have a feast?”

He turned and watched the people walking out of the church. Eve followed his line of sight. There were priests and monks and laymen and those in Native wear and those in contemporary clothes.
Hispanic, white, and Native, all coming out together, heading over to the picnic tables near the parking lot.

He turned back. “But here's the thing. There's no quandary today. No struggle or inquisition. Today is about putting something back where it belonged, returning something to its people. Today there is Mass and there is a feast. So you attended Mass, and now you'll attend the feast. Come and celebrate. Come and enjoy today.”

She waffled. “I told my father I'd be home before dark,” she explained.

“I'll make sure you're on the road before dark,” he answered.

She hesitated. He was not making this easy for her.

“They have red enchiladas, green chile stew; they have sopapillas.”

“Sopapillas?” she said, grinning. “Well, why didn't you start with that? Of course I'm staying if they have sopapillas.” And as she headed in his direction, she caught a glimpse of something blue just beyond where he stood. It was there for just a second and then disappeared.

“Did you see that?” she asked.

He glanced behind him in the direction she was looking. “What?” he asked.

She turned to the detective, realizing the burst of color was gone, and shook her head, her heart light. “Nothing,” she answered. “Just thought I saw something.”

He smiled. “I hope it was something good.”

“Very good,” she replied. “It was something very good.”

And they walked back to the church together.

SOURCES CITED

Lance Chilton, Katherine Chilton, Polly E. Arango, James Dudley, Nancy Neary, and Patricia Stelzner,
New Mexico: A New Guide to the Colorful State
(Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1984).

Jay W. Sharp, “The Blue Nun—Maria Jesus de Agreda: Mystical Missionary to the Indians,” in
Texas Unexplained: Strange Tales and Mysteries from the Lone Star State
(Austin: University of Texas Press, 1999)
.

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