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Show Acting Alone Page 54 Three sisters, literally blood sisters, novices all three, ran the infirmary. They weren't Polycarpana's favorite people among the Servant Sisters of Saint Willibrord of Perpetual Adoration. Her wickedness must have followed her boyfriend in along with the rest of her; because, as they crossed the cool stone vestibule, Polly snickeringly whispered way up into his ear the ludicrous given, or legal names of the three sisters. She told herself at the moment that she was kindly trying to alleviate some of his discomfiture at the hands and fingers and lips of Simone by making light conversation. But she knew, even as she snickered the three awful names, that she was lying to herself; she was acting out of pure teenish wickedness. "God. You're kidding," he whisp.ered back. "Krystle, Velvette, and what?" "Stormie," snickered Polly. "No shit?" he said. This man was unlike anybody else who ever came here, even the wandering babblers, in that he pulled no verbal punches in the face of a nun. The energy Polly was expending in an effort to be, yet not look or act offended seemed to be invigorating rather than tiring, in a wicked-feeling way. "They wanted to use those names here at the convent," she said, "but Mother Superior said no, they must use their names-in-religion. "Which are?" he cried, already gagging on laughter. "Sister Babo. . . Sister Ido. . . and. . . " Polly was filled with an excruciating black liquid of superciliousness and wickedness at someone else's expense. " . . . and. . ." She couldn't go on. |