I have a confession to make. I feel a little embarrassed admitting this, but I’ve always had a fear of nuns. There, I said it! Well, maybe not ALL nuns. Some have been pretty nice, like my third grade teacher, Sister Margaret, who always brought in candy on holy days of obligation. Then there was my fourth grade teacher, Sister Eleanor, who always picked me to lead the class in the pledge of allegiance.
I think when I break it down, my discomfort with nuns stems from my fear of my first grade teacher, Sister Agatha. She was as stereotypical as you can get. She wore a black and white habit, had a penchant for calling me Mr. Ryan, and a frown, that I was convinced, was permanently painted on her face. It was around this time that Butchie Appleton told us at recess that he heard from an older boy that Sister Agatha had the power to watch us ALL the time, and to know EVERYTHING we did. I admit, upon hearing this I was pretty skeptical — until what happened the following week. We had a class frog named Paul, who spent countless hours staring out the window next to his tank. I always felt bad for the little guy, so one day after school, I snuck in to the classroom undetected, opened Paul’s tank, and set him free into the wild/playground. The next day all of my classmates were puzzled where Paul went, but no one suspected I had any part in it… I was sure I got away with it! Later that day, Sister Agatha kept me after school and reprimanded me about what I had done. I couldn’t understand how she knew. I asked her, and she responded, “I have eyes EVERYWHERE.” This wasn’t the only instance where Sister Agatha seemed to catch me after the act. I could name nearly a dozen more.
Throughout my life, I have tried to get over this fear, but every time I see a nun, I can’t help but worry if they possess the same powers. For example, Jenny had been begging me for months to take her to see Sister Act on Broadway. I heard rumors it was a comedy about singing nuns, but just the idea of dozens of Sister Agathas in a room made my legs twitch and my palms sweat.
Though I’m still fearful of Sister Agatha (and many of her sisters), I know as long as I continue to toe the line and act on my best behavior, (hopefully) nothing will happen to me. If I were any of those suspects we interrogate, I would be pretty nervous. They should know besides us detectives keeping an eye on them, a nun by the name of Sister Agatha is also on watch. Consider yourself warned.