|
EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT
- One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
Brown Bag Lunch, Flirting
with Lolita, Detention and The Inquisition
In the
winter of third grade, during one of our lunches I got into my
first real trouble with the Catholic bureaucracy.
The
day started innocently enough, but the shit started to brew
during lunch.
It was the first time that I encountered the potential
instability and pettiness of people. Our lunches were held in
our classroom and since St. Francis did not have a cafeteria we
would indulge in the brown bags our mothers prepared for us.
The nun that usually watched over us had to go somewhere. In her
place an eighth grade girl was assigned to watch over us. To my
young eyes she was very attractive adult. Thinking back, she
looked like that pretty young actress who played in the movie,
“Lolita” and her mannerisms were also like Lolita’s. Unlike any
of the nuns she engaged us in conversation. She was very flirty
and she encouraged us young boys to joke and flirt with her. She
tried to engage me with a few quips and as shy as I was, I took
the bait and teased back. Something went horribly wrong. She
scolded me, for being rude to her and vowed she would see to it
that I would serve detention.
Her threat had the same chilling affect on me as telling me that
I would go to a Nazi concentration camp.
I
heard all of the horror stories; I had visions of the nuns
committing various forms of unspeakable atrocities on me. The
info on the grapevine suggested that detention was not where you
wanted to go. My entire day was filled with dread of the horrors
that I would have to face.
Once there, I found the atmosphere to be very gloomy and
threatening. Much to my surprise, there were a hellva lot more
kids crowded in the room than I had expected.
There
were also many nuns in the room circling the room like prison
guards on Alcatraz or Riker’s Island.
In my minds eye I saw all of us sitting in penance with black
and white prison uniforms covertly watching and whispering
conspiracies on what should be done about the prisons bull
screws that circled the room. The bulls, (nuns) were ever ready
to mete out punishment on the slightest imagined infraction. The
school’s Mother Superior resided over the kangaroo court as if
it was the inquisition. Essentially she was also the warden.
She called each person forward by name and read out the charge.
In each case most of the kids admitted to their guilt, and they
were sentenced with saying a specific number of prayers for
penance such as the Lord’s Prayer and Hail Mary’s.
The length of time that we had to spend in detention within
certain parameters depended on the severity of the crime
committed.
Some of the kids spent twenty minutes in detention and other
kids like me spent four hours. It was in truth a kangaroo court
because no one was allowed to face his or her accuser.
The Mother Superior simply read the charges from a piece of
paper written by the accusers. Without exception, every kid that
pleaded not guilty were screamed at and called liars.
My name was almost the last called and I was instructed to stand
as charges were read against me. The Mother Superior read out
the damning charges. As I said, I felt like I was in the
inquisition. The charges were: talking without permission during
lunch, rude behavior and inappropriate and vulgar language
towards the girl watching over us.
I was
asked, guilty or not guilty.
“Not guilty”, I squeaked.
The Mother Superior leaned forward and screamed, “Liar, liar!!”
“You are guilty!!”
I made the mistake of trying to overcome her ranting by talking
faster and louder so that I could get a word in edgewise and so
that I could be heard over her screeching.
As I
talked to her I told Mother Superior that I had never cursed in
my life and that the girl had initiated the conversation. I
tried to explain that I did not think I was rude to the girl,
but merely joking back with her.
The Mother Superior jumped up, frothing at the mouth, eyes
bugging out and her entire body quaking as she pounded the table
with her chubby manly hands.
Mother Superior was screaming like a person possessed by demons.
“Your guilty you filthy little liar!!” “Guilty!!” “Guilty!!”
“Guilty!!”
I tried to interrupt, but she screamed to the screw nuns on each
side of me, “Shut him up and sit him down!!”
One of these bull nuns cracked me on the head with a yardstick
and then whipped me with it several times all over my body.
My failure to reason with The Mother Superior no matter what I
said knocked aside my trusting child’s sensibilities. In my
highly stressed mind’s eye the people and the room changed.
Once again I imagined that I was being tried at the inquisition
and The Mother Superior was wearing a garment that I supposed
that an inquistioner would wear.
The other bull nuns were now wearing garb of dungeon guards,
executioners and torturers. The kids that had been sitting
around me quiet and contrite were now arranged in a variety of
positions around the mossy slick stonewalls of the dungeon we
were held in. Some were hanging on the walls in shackles, others
were being branded with hot pokers, other inmates being stretch
beyond endurance on a rack and while other kids were wearing
iron masks and iron maiden boots as they wallowed in dirty straw
and their own filth.
In my mind’s eye the nuns that grabbed me, took my bounded and
stone weighted body and tossed it into a large pool of water.
I imagined I could hear The Mother Superior say. “If you float
you are a warlock and may God have mercy on your soul.” “If you
sink and drown, you innocent and God will have mercy on your
soul.”
“I
advise you to do your penance now and beg God forgiveness for
your scurvy soul.”
The two bull nuns who had been standing beside me while I had
gone on my mental flight held me roughly in my seat. This forced
my mind back to the present. I look up at The Mother Superior
and it seemed as if she had calmed down a bit. She stood there
blinking stupidly several times. She straightened out the
imagined non-existent disorder of her nun outfit. She sat down
and folded her hands. As she did so, her look and manner changed
as if the demonic entity that had possessed her relaxed its hold
on her.
Now
her face was relaxed the demonic mask had been replaced with a
look of understanding and compassion.
She even smiled sweetly and adopted an intimate and
conspiratorial tone to her voice and said, “Well, we are all
sinners.” “And the Lord will forgive us all if we admit the
errors and sins of our ways.” “Since you sinned by your behavior
with the girl at lunch you are to be punished by detention and
prayer.” “Since you suffer from the sin of pride and you do not
acknowledge your sins and your bad behavior here today, you will
say the Lords prayer 1,000 times or more during the rest of your
detention.” “You will not leave until we give you permission to
do so.”
(1,000
times is an arbitrary number that I chose for this story because
I cannot honestly remember how many times I was supposed to say
the prayer or how many times I actually said it before I could
go home).
After four hours of penance, I was among the very last of the
remaining kids who was serving detention. The remaining kid’s
parents were waiting for them. I did not have this luxury. My
father was away at sea, and my mother had to work late. No one
but my Grandmother was waiting at home for me. Since my
Grandmother was unable to drive she could not come to get me
even if she had known that I was serving detention.
BACK TO HOMEPAGE |