And Those Who Trespass Against Us (2 page)

The woman herself was equally interesting. She was overly tall, for a woman, and her face was slightly square. Yet this didn't make her appearance harsh. Her face had been tanned by the sun, but hadn't yet begun to show the telltale signs of weathering, like the stationmaster's. Her hair, sensibly pulled away from her face and into a pigtail, was light brown in colour. The woman possessed no physical similarity to the stationmaster now standing quietly at her side. Katherine looked from one face to the other, again realising she was ogling.

Stiffly pulling herself up from her seated position and breaking her gaze from the woman in trousers, Katherine extended her hand to the stationmaster and introduced herself. "Excuse my rudeness. My name is Sister Flynn, Sister Katherine Flynn." She had risen too quickly and struggled to not fall down.

He offered a steadying hand. "James Nelson, Sister, and this is Miss Catriona Pelham. I know how tiring the journey is from Sydney, and then to arrive to this. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Thank you. That's very kind. However, after the tea do you think you could tell me where Sister Coreen is? I was expecting her to meet me this afternoon, as she was to show me to my living quarters. You must know her. Her full name is Sister Coreen Watson." Katherine didn't miss the look which passed between Mr. Nelson and Miss Pelham, and an unsettling feeling settled in her stomach.

"If it's Sister Watson you've come all this way for, then I'm afraid your journey has been wasted." Mr. Nelson looked at Miss Pelham for assistance.

Miss Pelham took up the story where Mr. Nelson had awkwardly stopped. "You would have to be blind not to notice everything is coated in dust. Earlier today, we had a dust storm which went on for about an hour. Being the main market day, a lot of people were in town when the storm hit. Most of those who came in from their properties, or farms as you would be more familiar with, took refuge in the Town Hall. What you must understand is our Town Hall is, or should I say was, no more than a wooden shack. At the height of the storm the wind whipped though the town, uprooting trees and moving houses. Unfortunately the shops and houses which weren't strong enough either collapsed or blew away."

Miss Pelham stared into the distance, her face strained, as if she were reliving the events of the afternoon all over again. "The Town Hall was one of the buildings which collapsed, killing ten people and wounding many others. So, you see that's why no one met you. Every person who could still walk has been down at the hall sorting through the rubble for bodies and survivors. Most of the job was completed with only a section remaining when one of the workers heard the muffled sound of a crying child. When they pulled away the debris, they found the body of Sister Watson, and under her an unscathed girl. By the looks of it, she'd shielded her from the falling roof, dying in the child's place. She was quite dead when they found her. Probably killed by the impact of the roof." Miss Pelham paused and gazed around her surroundings as if to compose herself. "So if it's Sister Watson you're waiting for, I'm afraid you'll be waiting a long time. She's dead you see, gone forever." Miss Pelham turned, walked a few paces away, and stopped and stared out at the gaunt landscape.

"Although if you want to be of assistance there's something you could do," her voice carried back over her shoulder while she continued to stare into the distance. "Father Cleary who runs the church is away up north and not expected to return for a while. We can't leave dead bodies in the open for too long, or they'll turn."

"Turn, what do you mean by turn?"

Mr. Nelson awkwardly shuffled. "They will start to, er, be fouled by the hot weather."

Unsure of where the conversation was heading, Katherine looked from Mr. Nelson to the back of Miss Pelham. "What is it you want me to do?"

The woman turned, her tired blue eyes meeting Katherine's. "The dead need the appropriate prayers said over them prior to them being buried and, frankly, Sister Flynn, you're the closest we have to a town priest."

Katherine felt her jaw drop and she turned to Mr. Nelson. "I can't pray over them. I'm not ordained to do such a thing. I'm only a nun! Isn't there some way you can wait until Father Cleary returns?" Katherine pleaded. She felt the grip of a hand on her shoulder and she was wheeled around until she was merely inches from Miss Pelham's face.

"Look around you, Sister Flynn. The shimmering effect you can see in the distance is the heat. If the bodies are not buried by nightfall they'll attract the flies, which in turn will bring disease. It must be done now and at the moment you're the most a qualified person we have."

Katherine stepped back and away from Miss Pelham's angry form. "I don't think you realise, as a nun, I do not have the authority of the church to perform last rites. I can say nothing over them which would make their path into the hereafter assured. As a nun these words would have no religious significance."

"Do you think those people who are dead give a damn if it's you, me, or the town drunk who says final prayers for them?" Miss Pelham said, her eyes piercing Katherine's. "If I felt the matter could be resolved in such a way, then I'd do it myself. This is for their relatives who are still alive. They're looking for assurance, religious assurance their loved ones will be safe in the hereafter. You can give them such assurance. I doubt in this time of grief they care who you are, only that you're the nearest thing they have to a priest. I suggest you realise in Australia not all things fit the mould like they're supposed to. You're here for a long time if what Sister Coreen said is true. If that's the case, you can endear yourself to the townspeople now, or you can spend a very long and lonely time here."

"I understand what you're saying, but when Father Cleary returns," Katherine got no further.

"Sometime in the future the father will be back, and he can ensure everything is remedied from a religious perspective. Now I think we should be making a move." Affording her no time to object, Miss Pelham grabbed Katherine's arm, and propelled her through the walkway exit to the railway station.

Katherine again struggled to release herself from the vice-like grip. "What about my luggage? All I have is in those two cases."

"I've got them Sister." Mr. Nelson loaded the meagre luggage into the back of the wagon as Miss Pelham almost lifted Katherine onto the seat on the front of the wagon.

Mr. Nelson shook his head. "Miss Pelham, mark my words, one day your sharp tongue and forthrightness is going to come back to haunt you."

Miss Pelham picked up the reins. "And they'll be added to the growing list of troubles I already have."

She cracked the reins across the flanks of the horse. "Move on," she called, and the horse obeyed her bidding.

NOTHING COULD HAVE prepared Katherine for the sight of a town destroyed by a dust storm. The scene reminded her of a fairytale she'd read as a child, where an evil giant had stepped on an unsuspecting town, crushing it underfoot. Unlike the fairytale, for this town there didn't seem to be a happy ending. The desperation and pain on the townspeople's faces was the impetus she needed to finally understand Miss Pelham's sense of urgency. She felt guilty about her stubbornness on insisting she adhere so rigidly to the rules of the church when obviously what the townsfolk needed was comfort and reassurance. Katherine's first day in town was a whirlwind of activity, filled with praying for the dead, comforting the survivors, while also quietly mourning the heroic efforts of a nun she never knew. She wasn't sure what the father would say of her actions on his return, but she was ready to stand by her actions, and the situation she'd been unwillingly forced into.

When she wasn't tending to the spiritual comfort of others, she helped clear rubble or attempted to sweep away some of the incessant dust which stuck in the same manner flies in this country did. Despite the day's tragedy, through her work she was overcome with the most amazing feeling. For once in her life she felt part of something. Yet it was so much more than that. She was doing work which, in Ireland, would have been regarded as only men's work. Even in tragedies such as the mining disasters in her county back home, a woman's duties were restricted to making tea and sandwiches.

As she toiled amongst the ruins of so many lives, the sun continued to make its way across the sky until the remaining people laboured in dusk, and the first hint of a full moon filled the sky.

A man in workman's clothes clapped the shoulder of another younger man he'd been talking to. He turned to the workers stacking the remains of a building. "Listen, men, John's told me everyone's accounted for. We're losing light and I don't think there's anything else which can be done today. Besides, I think we could all do with some rest." A murmur from the group reinforced his last words. "Why don't you all head on home. We'll meet here again tomorrow to finish what we started."

Tired husbands searched for their wives and, on finding them, gave them hearty hugs. For those men, the relief that it hadn't been them who had lost a loved one was evident. After the last families drifted away, Katherine was left with Miss Pelham and the thought of where she would spend the night.

Katherine attempted to wipe the accumulated dust and blood from the front of her habit but quickly abandoned the idea after realising her hands were hindering rather than aiding her efforts. Lightly slapping her hands, in an attempt to dislodge some of the dirt, she looked at Miss Pelham in the fading light. "I expect I should be on my way home, if only I knew where my lodgings were."

Miss Pelham wiped her hands on the seat of her pants. She touched her hand to her head and looked around, as if searching for something. "Though it mightn't be much of a comfort now, the town had planned a more appropriate welcome than the one you received." She bent down, picked up her hat and placed it on her head. "Come to think of it though, at least this one was more realistic. Sister Coreen's
lodgings
are on the same road to my homestead. I should tell you she spent hardly any time there and her reasons for this will become more apparent when we get there. Hop on the wagon and we'll be on our way." Miss Pelham un-tethered the horse from where it had patiently waited throughout the day.

In the fading light, Katherine struggled to make out any of the features of the town. The shapes she could discern disturbed her. The Town Hall was only one of many buildings which suffered the brunt of the storm. If these dust storms were a regular occurrence, how could anyone endure this day after day?

Heading out of town they entered another area detached from the remains of the main community. The houses, or the structures which were still standing, were a mix of whatever material was convenient.

"These houses don't even compare to the size of the tenant houses on my family's estate. They look more like oversized doll-houses." Miss Pelham grunted and Katherine shrugged at her response. Although she couldn't readily describe it, Katherine was unsettled by the uneasy silence of the area. What disturbed her more was Miss Pelham pulling up the horse.

She slowed the wagon in front of what appeared in the early moonlight to be no more than a mound of tangled wood. "Here you have it. Sister Coreen's home or what's left of it. "

The abode was nothing more than shattered remains, another victim of the storm which had devastated the town only hours ago.

Katherine shook her head, finding it difficult to believe the pile of timber and corrugated iron had ever been a home. The realisation of what she was looking at dawned on Katherine, confusing her plans even more. Breaking her gaze from the woodpile, she turned to Miss Pelham. "This may have been where I was supposed to live, but it's quite obvious this is no longer possible. If it isn't too much of an inconvenience, could you take me to the father's residence? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I spent a night in his home while he's away."

"Unfortunately the home Father Cleary used to live in was accidentally burnt down last summer by an overzealous housekeeper heating it for his return. Since then, the committee who oversaw the building of the first home has been saving money to construct another." Miss Pelham derisively snorted. "Not that it would be money missed out of their own pockets should they wish to open them. Father Cleary's current residence is the unmarried men's accommodation in town. I'm sure he'd be quite shocked to find you spending the night there, rather than sharing the hospitality of someone's home. You don't have to worry. You can stay with me until a more permanent arrangement can be made." She motioned the horse forward.

"Are you sure this isn't inconveniencing you in any way? I don't wish to cause you,"

Miss Pelham cut her off. "For heaven's sake, Sister Flynn, think of where you are and what time it is. It would be quite rude of me not to offer you lodgings for the night." She didn't break the forward movement of the horse and wagon. "Indeed, if I took you back to the Town Hall or the train station, my reputation with some members of the town would be even worse than what it already is."

What sort of reputation do you possess? Katherine thought. Although I expect now isn't exactly a desirable time for the production of personal references. "In that case thank you for your most generous offer, although I won't inconvenience you for any longer than necessary." Katherine settled herself into the hard wood seat. "You said the house, or the remains of it, was Sister Watson's home although she didn't spend much time there. If she didn't live there and there's no convent, where did she live?"