The next morning Gisele felt slightly dazed. It was early, and everyone seemed to be hiding. No one had brought her her breakfast. Luckily she was no longer under lock and key and could find food herself.

When she stepped out into the hallway, she was struck by its stillness. No other patients moved. There wasn’t a sound.

Gisele felt slightly dizzy, queasy, but she moved hastily down the hallway. When she would have descended the staircase, she changed her mind and ascended it instead. She went where she usually had no mind to go-- to the prior’s quarters. She passed the prior’s office and it was empty. Beyond that the hall was dark, and the rooms it opened to were uninhabited.

Gisele checked all of them as she went, urgent on a sudden prowl, struck by queasy suspicion, fear. The hall went on and on. She tripped and saw a broken doll lying on the floor.

Tenderly she picked it up and turned it over, brushing its dirty costume, flicking at dirt on its cracked face. Still holding the doll, she moved toward noises at the end of the corridor.

She went hot and cold, clutched the doll like an innocent child. Her limbs felt leaden as she moved toward the dark, empty room.

The bed squeaked, the voice groaned. The darkness of the room swam before her eyes, then parted to a stream of light illuminating a pillow, mattress, two bodies.

Gisele’s eyes flooded in green as she watched them couple, one head gray, the other’s fire-red.

Fire-red. She squeezed the doll and turned away, then broke into a run down the hallway.

She found Eden in the kitchen, paring potatoes. Her slim fingers were red and swollen. Gisele took her hand and dragged her, startled, into the pantry, then held her close.

She pulled down Eden’s wimple and touched her hair, smooth and black as it was. She breathed heavily in relief and pressed her face to Eden’s hair.

Eden’s blue eyes were wide, staring. “What are you doing?” she squeaked.

Tears constricted Gisele’s voice, and she said nothing, only stroked Eden’s hair. The doll still dangled from her hand. Finally, she said. “Promise me you’ll come tonight.”

“You know I will.”

“You’ll stay with me. I’ll never let him have you.”

Eden squeezed her eyes closed. “Oh, Gisele.”

Labels: Absinthe, excerpt

The girl sat on the side of the cot, her lips pressed to a small moue. She had a round, pale face and large blue eyes. Her black hair was center-parted and neatly combed behind her wimple.

When she didn't answer or move, Gisele stopped struggling. "Who are you?" she asked finally, meeting the girl's beautiful eyes.

She smile gently. "My name is Eden," she said. "I've come to give you some food, Gisele. You've been unconscious for two days. You've lost a lot of blood and will be weak for a long time to come." Lightly she pressed her hand over Gisele's which lay bandaged and still on the cot. "Why did you do what you did?" she asked in a slow, pained voice. Her eyes were so large and innocent that Gisele began to wonder if she had ever encountered a patient who had attempted suicide.

Gisele met her blue gaze unflinchingly. "Because I wanted to be with him," she said in a tight, emotionless voice. "I will be with him. I will find a way."

Eden shook her head wonderingly.

"Why don't you have a nun name?" Gisele asked.

"I'm only a novice," Eden said. "When I have taken my vows, I will be Sister Eden." She smiled gently and patted Gisele's hand and, illogically, Gisele felt reassured by the girl. Her voice was light and soothing, and she seemed so different from everything Gisele had experienced in the past weeks, that she took comfort in her. Eden became her name in that quiet silence, as Gisele mused on her comforting tone and touch.

"Was he killed in the war?" Eden asked.

"Of course," Gisele said dully. "How else? He didn't want to go. I didn't want him to. I hate this country, this world. I want to die." Her voice rose in volume and she pounded her fists on the cot as well as she could, since they were strapped down. She felt a quiver of pain in her left wrist as she did so and realized that the wound was still raw.

"You can't take your own life, Gisele," Eden said, pressing her hands together before her chest, fingertips up. As she did so, she resembled a Madonna icon to Gisele's dazed vision. "It's a sin. Be still, Gisele, be calm. In the coming weeks, you will find a reason to live, if you let the spirit into your life."

Labels: Absinthe, excerpt