The Good Nun

Today was day one at my new school. My family had packed everything we owned in our wagon and just headed west.

I didn’t like the idea. They didn’t care.

It was a religious school, St. Ignatius Catholic Church and educational center. They just opened a few years ago. Founded 1851, the plaque on the statue of the nun who ran the place stated.

I quickly learned that Ms. Stewart was a very strict teacher.

Another student said she was St. Ignatius School‘s cruelest. She earned her statue out front by beating anyone with the audacity to look at her the wrong way into submission.

I had walked to school that day undaunted, but things quickly changed.

At the end of the day, Ms. Stewart had beaten my knuckles four times, paddled my behind three times, pushed me out of my seat twice to lick the floor clean, and kicked me once on my way back to my seat after making me write ‘I’m a horrible smelly child’ on the chalk board twenty times.

Other students had it worse. She threw one student out the window and scowled at him he was lucky she didn’t strangle him, too.

****

It’s now been a week. Every day since I’ve been here, I’ve gone home with bruised knuckles for the pettiest of offenses, as did all the other students in her class.

My parents didn’t care. They told me to take my punishment like a man.

“I’m just a child,” I chided them.

They told me to grow up and go away. They were busy doing ‘adult things.’

I wish the weekend lasted longer.

***

The weekend passed and it was back to class. I hated Monday’s.

The only upside was Ms. Stewart rarely gave detention. She said she only gave detention to students who offended her when she was hungry.

“Class, does anyone know what St. Francis of Assisi is known for,” Ms. Stewart asked, her ruler ready to smack the hands of anyone who got the answer wrong.

I raised my hand.

“Yes, Noah,” Ms. Stewart said.

“St. Francis of Assisi is known for his love of nature and animals. St. Francis founded the Franciscan Order and is the patron saint of animals and the environment,” I answered.

“Very good. Now hold out your hands,” Ms. Stewart said.

“What? Why?” I asked.

“Put out your hands, Noah. NOW,” she demanded, her tone loud, demeaning and demoralizing.

I did as she asked out of fear, and she walked up to me and smacked my knuckles as hard as she could, drawing blood.

“I don’t like your tone of voice,” she said and kept slapping my knuckles despite several apologies.

It wasn’t until I had tears in my eyes that she stopped.

She gave me a craven look, like someone who hadn’t eaten in days. I wondered if this meant detention.

She licked her lips several times and said, “See me after class, Noah. Today, you and Greg get detention.”

The class said, “oooohhh,” in unison.

“What did I do,” Greg whined.

“I saw you staring at my derriere when I was rapping Noah’s knuckles. Detention,” Ms. Stewart said.

The day ended. Greg and I tried to run out of the classroom before Ms. Stewart noticed.

“Where do you two think you’re going?” Ms. Stewart shouted.

“Home,” Greg said, sounding facetious.

“Both of you. To my desk, now!” Ms. Stewart said sternly.

We approached her desk with trepidation.

“Yes, Ms. Stewart,” I said tremulously when we reached her desk.

Ms. Stewart grabbed Greg, unhinged her jaw, put him in her mouth and started chewing. She swallowed, and I started to back away.

“Don’t be scared, Noah. I’m just hungry,” Ms. Stewart said and started laughing.

“I don’t understand. You said Satan was bad, but I’m pretty sure you work for him,” I said.

“Satans only bad because I should be in charge of hell,” she shouted and pushed the desk with her knee with enough force to send it flying into my stomach.

I caught my breath, turned around and ran.

I made it to the door. When I opened it, she jumped across her desk and landed right behind me. She slammed the door shut.

“Your parents should have named you dessert, because you look sweet and delicious,” she said and licked her lips again.

She unhinged her jaw a second time, picked me up and swallowed me whole.

My parents probably wouldn’t notice I was gone. They barely noticed me when I was home.

Ms. Stewart still teaches at the same school today.

She only eats the unnoticed.