Surprise

“You know her best, Jesse. Just let me know if I can help.” Fiona pats your back. “Hey!” She steps back. “I’ve got something that will brighten your day.”

“Oh yeah?” You say dubiously. “What’s that?”

“A surprise. A big surprise.”

Motioning for you to follow her your sister moves swiftly toward her gigantic desk in long, powerful strides. You trot along behind her, curious about what she had in store. Once at the desk she slides a fingers over what at first appeared to be a dark marble surface. As it flashes to life you realize it is actually a massive holoscreen. With just her eyes she manipulates some of the controls that floated in midair above the desk and a moment later a door you hadn’t noticed before opens up in the wall behind the desk. After turning the screen back off Fiona carries on toward the door. She leads you down a featureless white hallway lined by windowless steel doors. About half way down she stops at one and turns. Trying to contain a grin she indicates for you to open it. After dimming the hall lights she nudges you forward.

You look at her with a suspicious scowl. Your sister might have been your ‘rock’ but the bitch in her ran deep. Even at her age it was possible this was some kind of big sister joke on her dim-witted little brother. Although…probably not today. Not after what you’d just talked about. In a show of trust you open the door and step through boldly

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust as the room is lit dimly with just a dozen or so candles which flicker at the opening of the door. What materializes before your adjusting eyes is a small chamber, long and narrow. Close to the door sits a simple cot and a low table upon which is an empty bowl, a pitcher of water, a cup, a spoon and a bible. At the opposite end of the room a large crucifix hung from the wall. Beyond these the room was empty of furnishings. In this gleaming tower of modern opulence a humble monastic cell was the last thing you’d expected to find.

The room might have been sparsely appointed but it was not uninhabited. Knelt before the crucifix was a small, slender nun in full habit. Her head is bowed and her hands folded in prayer. Resting at her side, leaned against her hip, was a handmade and well-worn teddy bear with mismatched button eyes.

As the muted light from the hall spills in across the room the nun takes notice. Her bowed head rises look up at the crucifix. She whispers a prayers and makes the sign of the cross then rises to her feet. Before turning she bends over to pick up the teddy bear and clutches it close to her chest. Slowly she turns her head to peer over her shoulder, the glint of hall light off her round glasses completely conceals her eyes.

“Jesse?” The woman whispers. “Jesse!”

“Hah!” You gasp as she turns more fully toward you to reveal a face you’d not seen in well over a decade. “Chloe!”