The nun and the slave
a Women’s World short story by Ciprian Gavriliu
Dozens of women, dressed in purple stroll inside the convent. Vera enters the central building alone, with small steps, looking over to the left and the right. Inside, the building is tall, with a few paintings on the wall. She looks at the biggest painting with a muscular woman stepping over two men.
One man has his head cut off, and the other has a sword piercing his back. The muscular woman is angry. On top of the painting, she can read Saint Mariola. At the far end, there is a gold statue of a woman who’s sitting on top of a cliff with her arms behind her head. Below, a wrinkled woman, smaller than the chair she is sitting on, speaks.
Vera sighs and takes a step back. Two women push her from the back. She looks to the left and right, but the only free chair is in the front row. The wrinkled woman stops speaking and looks at her. She walks with broad strides to the front and sits, with slouched shoulders.
“Late to the service, late in life,” shouts Mother Superior. “We all gathered here today for you! It’s shameful what you’ve been doing with your life so far. A virgin nun, at 38.”
The walls vibrate with the uproar. The two nuns sitting beside Vera move to the sides.
“I didn’t have the means to…”
“Face the truth! It is your pride that got you here, not lack of money. We have other nuns that have three or four men by this age. You know them. Why didn’t you talk to them? Why didn’t you learn? It’s pride, not poverty.”
“Sinful bitch!” shouts a large nun from behind. “You make us all look bad!”
“You have one month to buy a man and have your way with him,” says the leader, in a voice that you can barely hear.
Vera is hunched over, looking at the tiles. Her temples pulse and hurt. She feels a flash of warm energy rushing through her, followed by a tingling sensation on her skin. The tingling turns to pointy ice like a rock of pain growing in her belly. All the nuns look at her. She is frozen. The nun to the left comes closer, raises her arm gently, and slaps her face.
“Answer to the mother superior, whore!”
Vera breathes heavily and quickly.
“I only have 30 alanites. I can’t buy a man.”
“Well, good news. Your aunt just died.”
***
The room is nine feet long and wide. Vera looks at the unusually small light bulb.
“Budget cuts,” says the woman in front of her.
She is dressed in an old leather jacket, army boots, and a five-layer belt. Beside her is a wooden board with rusty nails holding hundreds of different keys.
The woman looks at Vera’s shoes, crack by crack.
“We have some cheap ones, down on the lower floors. They are either long, blind or with a minor defect. Something is missing, like an arm, a leg, or one of their balls. But they are still functional. The girls have fun with everyone who comes in here, on the first night. If somebody is too damaged, we have the crematory.”
“What are the other options,” asks Vera.
“Sure you can handle it?”
Vera leans towards a wall, looking the other woman straight in the eye.
“More power to you girl. Let me show you the premium selection”.
They walk squeezed shoulder by shoulder alongside a corridor filled with cages. Mumbles come out from the dark. Vera holds her nose.
“I’m sorry about this,” says the woman.
“What happens here?”
“Sector 1. They don’t want to do anything. Not even wipe their ass. We shower them with a hose twice a week. Some of them don’t even eat the food they are given. We just carry their corpses to the crematory”.
“How did they end up here?”
“Just life I guess, honey.”
“Why do you keep them?”
“Sometimes we sell them in bulk. We have some buyers that take like 20 in one purchase. Use them for soap. Or buy just a piece or two, for torture.”
“Torture?”
“Some of the girls get fantasies about men, love, and shit. So the mothers do what they have to do to educate them.”
The woman pushes a switch. Ten light bulbs open at once. Vera can hardly see the other end of the room. Dozens of cages are put against a wall. Men come to the end of the cages. Somebody is doing pull-ups to the top of the cage.
“Fuck you bitch!”
The woman looks at him with a blank face. She speaks to her wrists.
“Cage 25.”
Everybody stops. Water comes down from the top of the cage. The man drops to the floor, twitching.
“Listen up motherfuckers. We have a buyer. She seems too nice for you apes. But she’s willing to make a purchase, nonetheless. Try not to be animals.”
Vera looks at all the cages, tingling going through her skin. Cage 42. Only darkness, no movement. She looks closer and starts walking. She gets close to the cage. Somebody sits in the dark, on a bench. Only a pair of white eyes glow. She turns to the guard.
“Shouldn’t he be in Sector 1?”.
“You have other options.”
“What’s with this one?”
“Honey, you’re asking all the wrong questions.”
***
Vera sits, keeping a spoon in her hand. A plate, a piece of bread, and half of an onion are layered on the table which runs to the other end of the room. A deer head is above her, hanging on the wall. Mara enters the room.
“Girl, you better be eating that peasant food faster.”
“I’m trying to save.”
“Don’t you worry about the food, she still had the factories working before she closed her eyes. What are you doing with that man you bought last month? The girls ask about him all day long. Maybe you make them happy. Heard he was expensive at hell. Ms. Layla left everything to be invested or donated. Hope you’re not trying to make her regret the decision of choosing you to…”
“Bring him in,” says Vera, staring at the food.
The man is chained to his chair. In front of him is the same food. A black bracelet is placed around his neck.
“Please, eat,” says Vera.
The man looks at the piece of onion.
“By tomorrow night, I’m supposed to have sex with you.”
The man takes the onion into his hand.
“Do you think you’ll be ready for it?”
“I heard you’re a virgin.”
Vera looks down, blood going to her face.
“You?” asks Vera.
“A few times, with the guys.”
“How is it?”
“Depends. Not what you think. Why didn’t you do it?”
“Didn’t seem right.”
“To you or the guys?”
“Both.”
“Do you think too much?”
“Sometimes.” Vera chuckles. “I have a deadline from Mother Superior for tomorrow night. I’m sorry.”
“I’m just property, right?”
“It’s not like that.”
“Do I have a saying in it?”
Vera starts to eat.
“Please. It gets cold.” She smiles.
The man looks at her.
***
Vera plugs a red light and jumps in the bed. She is shaking.
“I’m ready.”
The door opens and Mara, with another woman, enters the room. They are flanking the man, who wears only a pair of leather pants with a sack over his head. His chest is hairy, with muscles coming out. Mara pulls him to a wall that has a huge plaque of metal and two rings sticking out. The woman ties the handcuffs to one of the rings and slaps a lock on them. She slaps the man’s ass and walks towards Vera, slipping two purple pills in her hand.
“Make it worth your while,” says Mara, smiling.
The women exit the room.
“Do you need a pill?”
“You’re too kind, but I don’t have a cock.”
Vera loses her balance and puts a hand behind her to regain her balance.
“Didn’t they tell you? It was one of the guards. Used her teeth too.”
She starts to breathe heavily, gets out of bed, and falls to the ground, hitting her head on a tall lamp.
Vera opens her eyes. The man is tied to the wall, in the same place. She tries to get up.
“Are you ok?” asks the man.
“What happened?”
“You fell and hit your head”.
“When?”.
“Two minutes ago. You know, it was a joke.”
Vera jumps up, walks towards him, and hits him in the chest with her fist. Then she tears his leather pants and stares.
“I’m being kind and open and what do you do? I’m not like other women. I hate the idea of sex. I want you to make love to me.”
“Love?”
She slides her hand between the sack and his face and pushes a pill into his mouth.
“Say that you love me.”
“What if I can’t?”
She slides the second pill into his mouth.
***
Vera drives an SUV up a road mountain covered in dirt. The top of the car is off. She smiles. The man is sitting in the right seat. His eyes are half-closed and he looks to the side, with a wrinkled forehead.
“Why didn’t you want to see my face the other night,” asks the man.
She unlocks his handcuffs. He touches his neck bracelet.
“What was your number?”
“Before I had a number, I had a name. And a soul.”
She turns and looks him in the eyes.
“Claude,” says the man, jumping out of the car.
He tumbles and falls off the edge of the road. Vera shuts the brakes. The car stops. She turns her wrist and pushes a button on her smartwatch. A scream of pain comes from the valley. The corner of her lips rises.
The cabin has ten rooms. In front of the fireplace, Vera wears sweatpants and a cashmere sweater. In front of her, Claude is chained to a steel sofa. His right arm and shoulder are covered in bandages. She rises and gives him a cup of tea.
“On Monday I need to go back to the convent for a while.”
“Aren’t you rich now?”
“I’ll be back, don’t worry.”
She kisses his forehead.
“Please don’t hurt yourself. You matter, for both of us. Say that you love me.”
He looks down.
“What if I don’t feel like it?”
“Feelings are temporary. Love matters. Embrace this moment, try to be present in it.”
She throws a piece of wood in the fireplace.
“Why love?”
“I’m not like other women. I want to free a man, I want to love him, I want him to love me. Love is what matters, not controlling through fear or guilt. I don’t believe in that philosophy. I want to love, not to hurt.”
She starts sobbing.
“Like I did with you. I tried to love you and you do this to me.”
He looks at her.
“Tomorrow morning I want an answer. I want to know if you’re willing to love me. Or I’ll be forced to sell you. Please don’t hurt me.”
She leans and kisses him on the lips.
“I’m too tired to make love tonight, I’m sorry.”
She goes to the front of the room, looking through the glass wall. Pine trees, with glimmering needle leaves, crowd the valley. Some small circle lights flash in the distance. Tears glide on her cheeks.
“Progress, progress, prosperity. For what?”
She passes the man tied to the sofa and taps him on the shoulders.
“Good night.”
She climbs the forty steps and disappears upstairs.
Her eyelids move just enough to see a bright light. She opens her eyes completely. She jumps out of bed and moves towards the window. Everything is white. The white branches sparkle as she covers her eyes, smiling. Her feet move fast towards the stairs. She sees Claude. He is still sleeping, covered in a blanket. There is something on the table in the middle of the room. The room shines.
“Should I wake him up?” she asks herself. “No, let him sleep a little longer.”
She strolls to the table. Ten croissants sit in the middle, with steam rising. She opens her nostrils and inhales. Jam is right beneath the croissants. Four jars. Fruits. Papaya, bananas, dragon fruit, and mango, all cut into long pieces on a square plate. Yogurt. A couple of eggs. Omelette. Pancakes.
“What a waste. It’s too much. Was this how Layla ate? How did she still have the cabin, and all the people, and the houses, and the cars, and the men if she wasted money like this?”
She takes a couple of blueberries and presses them with her lips.
“Claude, honey. Wake up.”
She smells a croissant up close.
“Hey, you.”
She takes a croissant and a small plate and walks towards his couch. She sits on the couch and puts the plate right beneath his head. The blanket moves a little. She frowns and pulls the blanket. His face is blue. The handcuffs are tied around his neck, with his mouth opened and staring eyes. His head is frozen in space. Vera rises, stumbles over a coffee table, falls, moves to a side, and starts to back down, crawling, with her eyes big, looking fixed at Claude’s face.
“But you were supposed to love me… Love. I wanted to love you. Love should be the answer… Love. Love.”
She starts screaming, as she opens the door and runs bare feet. The snow turns red under the feet. She runs towards the pines and the cliffs.
