NUN IN THE MAP BOX
Reminiscence by Carol Creswell 9 2014
Sister Agnes Clare was as round as she was
tall. Garbed in the severe black veil, white wimple and collar and long black
dress of the Catholic nuns circa 1950, she was a strange sight as she wafted down
the polished hall floor like a ship under full sail.
She was on her way to her geography classroom
each weekday afternoon.
The ninth graders who were her charges
numbered 55: a usual Catholic high school class in Saginaw, Michigan at St.
Mary’s School.
Girls were dressed identically in white
blouses and navy blue jumpers, boys wore a plain white or blue shirt and dress
pants. All had to be on best behavior or they were sent to the principal’s
office.
No one wanted to tangle with the principal,
Mother Mary Margaret Murderess.
That would involve a scolding or a switching, a suspension, and notice
to the parent.
GOD HELP YOU IF YOUR DAD FOUND OUT YOU WERE
PUNISHED AT SCHOOL, YOU’D BE PUNISHED AGAIN WHEN YOU GOT HOME.
Sister Agnes Clare was a bit out of sorts
that sunny pale winter Wednesday. Her
lunch at the adjacent convent had involved Sister Jehosophat’s burnt biscuits
again, and eating those burnt biscuits had
sent her tummy into a tizzy.
She rapped for attention, and the scholars
scurried to their seats. Looking about
with an eagle eye, she spied Jack Kocks who was blowing kisses to his lady love
Noreen Smith.
“Mr. Kocks, would you come up here, please?
“ She directed her pointer to the back of the classroom toward Jack.
Reluctantly, Jack shuffled forward. He,
too, wasn’t in the best mood. He hadn’t
studied last night, he’d been making out with Noreen. Now here was the old
battle ax in black with her gimlet eyes and her fat flailing fingers yakking
away. No he didn’t know where Madagascar
was. No he hadn’t had time to find it
and he didn’t have a map or Encyclopedia Brittanica at home and the public
library was closed on Tuesdays.
Yak, yak, yak.
Oh gosh if she’d just shut up.
Then she grabbed his shoulder to point him
toward the huge map hanging from the blackboard, and in a moment of utter insanity,
JACK PUSHED A NUN! Oh oh, JACK PUSHED A NUN!
Sister lost her balance. Her pointer went flying. Her little
black-clad legs waved desperately, her black skirts and rosary beads entangled, her wimple disengaged
from her veil, and SHE WENT DOWN.
Her ample rear got stuck in the
five-foot-long- ten inch-wide box for the rolled up maps
‘O wow,’ the students thought. God will curse
the earth and the ceiling will open up and swallow us whole. Well maybe not all
of us. Probably not that teacher’s pet Carol Ann.
But UNDOUBTEDLY Jack Kocks, his minutes are
numbered.
There stood Jack, utterly dumbstruck at
what he’d done, not knowing whether to run or
faint. Sister Agnes Clare?
Well…
There she sat in the map box, flailing
away, helpless to move. She extended an imperious hand as if she wanted Jack to
kiss her ring, and ordered in her loudest voice: “
Don’t just stand there. GET ME OUT!”
Jack
(who was solidly built) put out both trembling hands and with a groan, pulled
and pulled the little rotund nun.
WHOOSH. OUT SHE POPPED. She stood, dusted
herself off, rang her ‘emergency’ buzzer behind the desk which alerted the
principal’s office.
With
a crash and a banging of doors Mother Mary Margaret Murderess filled the room
with her imperious presence. Students were
motionless as if frozen in time. Poor
Jack was white as a sheet, terror written across his face.
“What happened?” Mother demanded as she
glared at Sister , who was still trying to reassemble her ensemble. Then Mother
gazed around the room, piercing the soul of all those present. Her eyes fell on
Jack Kocks’ twitching countenance.
“You. Did you have something to do with
this?” she bellowed.
Jack
didn’t make a sound. The class was
paralyzed. Sister, though outraged, remained silent, thinking ‘Let’s see what
Jack says.’
Silence filled the room. Everyone strained to hear something either
from Jack or, even better, God.
Slowly, Jack began to speak in a low voice. “Well, you see Mother Mary Margaret, we was,
I mean ‘were’, having a geography lesson and I was called forward to point out
on the world map where Madagascar was when I lost my balance on a slippery
piece of floor. You know, like walking
on a wet tile you didn’t see and your foot goes out from under you? Well,
Ma’am, the sister tried to grab me to keep from falling and, I guess, too late,
I fell toward her, toppled her, and she
ended up rear end- first in the map box.”
Fifty four students stifled spasms of
laughter, as Jack, stone-faced told his tall tale. Sister’s face reddened in
anger and disbelief.
“Is that what happened?” Mother demanded of
Sister.
Sister Agnes Clare was not about to call Jack
a liar or admit she had lost control of her classroom. She could never undo what
the students had seen nor did she wish the matter to become worse.
She crossed her fingers behind her back.
“Yes, yes. That’s the way of it,” Sister
quietly muttered. “A freaky circumstance that we shall make sure never happens
again. I will speak to the janitor about the condition of the floor.”
With that Her Imperial Majesty left the
room. Sister Agnes Clare resumed her
lesson. Jack returned to his seat in the rear of the room. Noreen breathed a
sigh of relief and thought how manly Jack was.
To this day, no one has forgotten the time
that Jack Kocks knocked Sister Agnes Clare on her rear.
THE END
