The Revelation Of Joan
Chapter 6 The Trinity
I caught Sister Lily on her way to the curb.
"Look, I'm sorry about that crack about being crazy. I was -- um --"
Lily looked at me oddly. Finally -- "It's all right. I know where you're coming from. I've been there."
"You have?" I asked, wondering where she thought "there" was.
"Yeah. You're surrounded by people who don't understand the things you consider important -- atoms and forces and all that. But I understand. Not the atoms and forces, of course, but the FEELING."
"Yes. I think. What did you do about it?"
"Walked out. But that was just a convent, and I had freedom of action. You can't walk out on your family. All I can say is, when I join your family, I hope I can help out, and not be an additional burden to you."
"Thanks. That's very nice of you, considering how rude I was."
"Yeah, but you apologized. That's like confessing, and we're always supposed to accept a confession." She gave me another odd look. "Tell me, what you provoked you to apologize? The Theory of Relativity. Quantum mechanics?"
"Um, no. My conscience bothered me."
"Ah. Take that as a sign, kiddo, um, I mean Luke. Not everything in the universe is atoms and forces. She stepped forward and gave me a sisterly kiss on the cheek -- family sister, not nun sister. Then she walked away, leaving me feeling much better.
Not completely better, of course. There was still Joan to worry about.
The strategy that I had worked out with Grace still seemed right. Focus not on Joan, but on the jerks who were exploiting her. Maybe we can intimidate them into letting her alone -- and while I knew I was not an intimidating person, Grace certainly was. Or maybe we could show Joan that her idols had feet of clay. Or if we were really lucky, we could catch them doing something illegal and call in the police. I was a cop's son, after all.
I was in luck. Somebody had vacated a store just opposite Joan's bookstore. The landlord had put a FOR LEASE sign in the window but had made no attempt to board it up: it was a big empty space with a good view. Even more conveniently, I found the door unlocked. By crouching before the window, I could get a good view of Joan's bookstore without getting spotted or interrupted. Had I been a religious type, I might have described the discovery as a gift from God.
For several hours nothing suspicious happened. People went in and out of the bookstore, but they looked like legitimate customers. Then something happened that blew all my plans away.
A little girl came out, with red hair, glasses, and some toy antennae. I hadn't noticed her going in, but now I watched in horror as she stepped off the curb into traffic. A car was speeding along but pulled to a stop, as if by a miracle. Without seeming to notice, the girl completed the crossing.
Forget Joan: I had to make sure the girl didn't get herself killed wandering around downtown. I emerged from the store and got in her way. "Little girl, what's your name?"
She looked up at me brightly, not at all intimidated by my sudden appearance. "I've got lots of names."
"Well, tell me one," I said desperately.
"Ellie."
"All right, Ellie, is your mother around here?"
"Nope."
"Some other relative?"
"Granny."
"All right, is your grandmother in the bookstore?"
"Nope."
There was a relief, though it made my responsibility harder. At least I wouldn't have to go in the bookstore and let Joan know I was in the area. "Come with me, then, and we'll look for her."
I took her by the hand and started walking. The best strategy seemed to be to circle the block first, and if that didn't work, to widen the search pattern.
About one street away we came across an old woman, slightly stooped but giving a general impression of good health. She spotted us and walked toward as quickly as her physical condition would allow. "Ellie! So there you are!" She peered at me through her glasses. "Who are you?"
"My name is Luke Girardi, and --"
"What are you doing with my grand-daughter?"
"I found her wandering around, and--"
"You were trying to kidnap her!"
"No, it's not like that--"
"I've a mind to call the police."
The threat startled me, but did not bother me at first. After all, my Dad was on the force, and even in his absence his friends would recognize me and realize that the charge was ridiculous. But then I remembered Dad's description of all the infighting that went on there, and wondered if there was a faction there that would be delighted to have Dad's family tagged with scandal. "No, please--"
"What's going on?" said a new voice.
I turned to look at the newcomer, and my heart sank. He was a devotee of the stupid "Goth" fashion: black lipstick, spiked hair, pins stuck in various parts of his face. I had seen him around school, and had done my best to avoid him.
"This young man tried to kidnap your sister!" said the old lady.
So he was part of this weird family. Great. "It's not like that. I saw this little girl wandering around, and thought she needed protection until I could find her family.
He regarded me for several seconds, and it struck me that he had gentle eyes that didn't fit the rest of the persona. Finally: "It's cool, granny. I know this guy from school. Brainy, and perfectly honest. The only weird thing he does is make out with his girlfriend sometimes in the biology closet."
"Grace and I don't--" I started, then decided it would be better not to dispute a generally positive testimonial. "Yeah, that's me."
The old lady peered at me through her glasses again. "It looks like I owe you an apology, young man."
I was rather exasperated by now, but I held back. No reason to embarrass the old lady further. "It's all right."
"I suppose it goes to show, you should have more trust in your fellow man."
It sounded like a platitude, but somehow it seemed an utterance of immense weight, like one of Newton's Laws. And that "you" seemed not like an impersonal pronoun, but a direct message to me, even though she had been the one in error. "Well, I'd better be going."
"Have a nice day," said Ellie. And once again the standard phrase seemed significant, as if the little girl actually had the power to grant nice days to people.
I took leave of the three and walked back towards the bookstore. At one point I looked back, and they were gone.
(To be continued)
(Author's note: In case you didn't guess, the strange family are really Little Girl God, Goth God, and Mrs. Landingod, having some fun with Luke and teaching him a lesson at the same time)