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