Page 69 of Eyes Like Angel
I pondered, chin tucked on the knees, arms propped over.
A flashing memory across my field of vision captured a motioned memory of Adrian strode afar inside the party, in result of being ambushed and pushed by Emily has set myself contorted and disturbed, unable to ground myself, a slight faint was nearly at a breaking point.
“Nothing at all,” I answered, getting up, patted and straightened the long skirt. “What time should we be there?”
“In about an hour or so,” she said, searching for a clock. “Why?”
A wave of consternation is tucked in as I could muster, the hot air fizzled in my chest, my head spinning, wishing to throw up. “I have to get ready. The priest might get upset.”
“Oh, please. Father Divine never gets upset,” Sister Lucia said, chuckling.
But she hadnoidea.
My fists clenched in a rumpled skirt. “I have to get going.”
Sister Lucia nodded. “Alright, then. I have to get the rations ready in the kitchen. The Rivers family will be here in an hour or so.”
I didn’t bother myself to reply, let alone correct her.
Justifications and explanations were useless.
My sullen eyes lost focus. I barely heard what Lucia informed afterwards. Everything seemed so surreal, and blurry.
Narrow-spaced room in the attic suffocated me, grasp within every breath I held and released. Time’s been wasted. Nevertheless, I marched onward, sound of footsteps clambered to the roof, not looking back for Sister Lucia’ reaction or reply, a tug of war between wanting to know, but also to fear the outcome.
How will I ever be able to survive the turning events? If God can handle all obstacles, why shouldn’t I? I should be capable and immune to the possible worst of circumstances. Anyone can.
***
Hours struck in, and my back and delicate limbs ached from heaviness, loading and unloading the dishes and collected dirty washcloths for a hefty wash—discolorations in oil and unimaginable dirt.
Mrs. Rivers instructed to have the metal trays pristine and germ-free, in expansion on utensils and napkins. To put this in a plain explanation, dishes needed to be sanitation, utensils needed a deep scrubbing, and napkins needed for a good washing, since the paper towels and filed in a neat line. A superb result exceeded in her expectations. In additional, Mrs. Rivers despised all things littered, loitered on the side street or the main road.
She found it unethical.
Mrs. Rivers made herself known for immaculate and aimed for perfection. From time to time, she stormed in thekitchen to check the trays all rinsed and dried properly. Not that I blamed her, germs carried diseases and unknown bacteria causing for everyone sick and rest in two weeks, at times their recovery prolonged than a month or so.
Like that worldwide spread three years ago, reminding everyone to stay indoors and be protected with disinfected wipes and a healthy balanced diet regarding to avoid itchy throat and wet coughs and runny noses strung along with high fever. I kept myself alive as long as the disease was contaminated. As I aided myself to cold flu symptoms, I basked under the unused curtains I tugged from the attic’s window, and stepped on a tiny black widow to keep my body temperature warm. For the food, I stole food as much as I can in the neighbor whenever I worked as a sole cleaning service while the Divine family forbade me to stay at their private residence.
Sister Jane accused of me spreading virus, forming an exaggerated and guttural gagging noises, and so does Sister Joanne. They presumed that I’m the carrier of the global epidemic when they both know I often confined in a dark, stuffed attic.
As for the delicacy, my belly starved off to a point I don’t know what’s been happening. As much as attending to the town’s doctor, he might reject me and confront the Divine family, exposing my unwanted or unknown visits.
I basked in hunger and survival, finding alternate ways to cope for the time being.
Those three previous years had left me hanging. As for touching anyone’s belongings and perishables, I tend to be strategic without getting caught red-handed, as much as devoid by security cameras, but so far, the security cameras were installed outside their front doors and backyards. Though only three houses in total have
I knew this because I’ve experienced and learned a lesson on not contacting the items through fingers without protection.
Having gloves worn at all times was an advantage for me. Gladly, her concern lies elsewhere.
Anyone who’s bedridden was evident for everyone to steer clear. Mrs. Rivers intended for the kitchen staff and volunteers to be punctual and spotless.
She returns at each hour to inspect and signal if the staff exceeded her expectations.
One week ago, Mrs. Rivers barged into the kitchen, food storage and closet, and the altar. She insisted on having homeless perched by the pew chairs inside instead of sitting outside the parking lot, rather standing around, inspecting every inch and corners on several rooms, making sure none of us are ill and appropriate for the homeless to rest temporarily.
During the previous week, she dragged a new worker—one of her workers—by the hair and soon on the spot because one homeless man got sick from her sickness, sneezing and coughing—imprudent and offhand incomplete assigned chore caused siege and cyst, a lack of self-care. Apparently, and allegedly, someone didn’t rinse their hands clean to be contaminated-free. Sooner than later, others got sick, earning a badge of swollen poxes, wet-bubbling cough alongside on feverish symptoms. Nuns, including me, stepped away in the kitchens for a bit until kitchen porters and exterminators sanitized the entire area. For spare doctors handed medications, though medications and bills costed higher.
