The Vesper Bell of evensong had not yet rung, Heloise arrived back at la couvent de la sang precieux to find the entire collation of its inmates seated in le refectoire, at their evening meal.
This was fortunate, as they knew today was her free day of grace, in which she could enjoy; un jour de fetes, on her own , to do as she pleased. Hurriedly, she gained her private cell, a small room at the back of the Sacristy... granted to her through privilege and years of long service as befitted her station as Sacristan.
Heloise disrobed to freshen herself, poured water into a basin, disposed of the soiled habit along with the marble relic into a locked closet, the door of which displayed an icon of the Virgin, delicately rendered by la vielle soeur Agathe in distemper, gesso and casein.
Heloise gazed absently around her rudimentary cell, seeing it as if for the first time through newly opened eyes. Its austerity was marked, the simple cot, the small fire place, the tiny window overlooking the back quad and potager, the simple limewashed stucco of its irregular walls, the minute washstand, the closet, the simple chest at the foot of her bed, the black crucifix of ebony and the tiny votive altar beneath.
There were no mirrors in her cell, but after tidying her person and changing her clothes, she suddenly wanted, as never before; to have a look at her appearance... Down a small back stair she flew; to the well of la Vierge...and there in the still placid pool, surveyed her visage for the first time in ages... her face flushed hotly, she had a sunburn! not only her face, but she felt , most of the rest of her body... ( except for her shoulders and breasts, which had been somewhat protected by her camisole during her flight with the Satyr )... that evidence would remain hidden. She could not however, conceal her face...but the red burning of it was so lobsterlike; her only consolation was that no witness could misconstrue it for any blush of shame or guilt.
After so many exertions, her hunger was great, and finally appearing in le refectoire, she fell in with her sisters and la Mere Marjolaine, ( at the head table )... who welcomed her warmly along with the rest of the assembly.
"Why Soeur Heloise!...You positively glow with the divine light of our sweet Lord this evening!.... His sacred beams have found your face, his health giving fire becomes you!", la Mere Marjolaine remarked with a smile...as she cut into her potatoes and boiled Macedoine. " Do you not agree Soeur Agathe?,...Soeur Ursule?... Soeur Heloise seems a new being!...so radiant... what ever can have gotten into her today ?? It has surely done her good!! Dieu Sainte!"...
The two older nuns nodded meekly and smiled sweetly at the Abess and at Heloise, over their trenchers. Heloise blushed an even redder glow, beneath her pink face...crossed herself and broke bread. "Thank you, Ma Mere superieure... nature was so enchanting today... on the hill my good Lord our saviour excelled himself in the beauty of the season.", she returned, still blushing.
Nothing more was said on the matter, and at the end of the meal, the entire assembly rose for the giving of thanks, and sang the benediction, exiting in orderly lines; with the novices leading the way in joyful unison and in preparation for evensong and the service of Vespers.
Heloise contemplated the articles of the sacrament, alone in the Sacristy. The polychrome Christ; its crude wooden carving and waxy colouring, anguished attitude of mental and physical torment...the bloody stigmata...in so sharp a contrast to the antique finesse of the marble Satyr and Nymph of the temple; redolent of physical athletic glory, and pagan joy.
She dutifully, resignedly, carried the monstrance and the flagons of holy wine and water along with ' l'hostie ', to the high altar... within the sanctus sanctorum; the sacrarium behind the holy rood screen.
La Mere Marjolaine: Abess of La Couvent de la Sang Precieux, officiated at the service of Vespers; donning the full regalia of her station. The Evensong commenced in due course- and all fulfilled their respective duties...including Heloise- though as they raised their voices in Seraphic Harmonies, Angelic raptures and raphsodies to the vaulted roof and the heavens beyond...Heloise's mind drifted off to the events of her days adventures...she pondered wistfully, what had happened to her, in the harsh light of reality; in the context of the ritual she participated in now!...what a contrast in every way, shape and form!...and when each member of the congregation rose to take the holy sacrament in turn; from the hands of the Abess- Long slender white hands-, gradual waves of incredulity, contradiction, and revulsion rose within the psyche of Soeur Heloise de la Vachebobois, Nee Alphonsine... As if in a timeworn hypnotic trance, she approached the Altar- to receive the holy sacrament - L'hostie; the HOLY BREAD: representing the physical body of Christ divine...(His Flesh), which she must, like a willing cannibal , take and eat of... likewise then, the holy wine- she must drink; take and drink the 'Precious Blood', of our Lord Jesus Christ Saviour, who shed the same on the cross for the eternal salvation of humanity entire.
She took the dry crust into her dry mouth...it grated and stuck to the roof of her palate...almost choking her...she dutifully sipped of the wine from a cold silver cup; drinking the "Blood", of Christ. The hands of the Abess looked chapped, pasty, ashen-grey , cracked and worn, cold to the touch as they brushed her chin momentarily.
Then Soeur Heloise saw a vision of the Christ swim like a mirage in her minds' eye; his attenuated body: bleeding, suppurating with pustulent sores and the stench of rotting human flesh; crawling with maggots and oozing decay and putrefaction.....she began to VOMIT! Uncontrollably; all over the Abess!! All over the Sacrarium!- She ejected the entire contents of her stomach and intestines in six STEAMING consecutive JETS of PROJECTILE VOMIT ; all over the altar!!! to the absolute horror of the entire assembly; whose jaws dropped en masse!, gasping in disbelief!...RECOILING in SHOCK!...La Mere Marjolaine and the stunned votaresses of the order leapt back aghast, and frightened!....Heloise fainted, and fell directly headlong from the Altar dais, down three stone steps,...to land in a crumpled heap-...and then ending; to slide in a rancid stinking puddle of her own vomit.
With a mixed sense of shock, alarm, concern...mingled sympathy; and a thinly veiled utter disgust... the sisters regrouped and carried her off to her cell. Crossing themselves , and uttering quiet imprecations to God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost , and the Blessed Virgin Mary.
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Here endeth the first Parable of The Temple of the Four Winds .... Volume Two , to Appear , Autumn 2009.
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