It's about time I did this...

[Tarina]

Hi there everybody on the Toe. This is Tarina, and I am very happy to be here. I have found you all to be polite, kind, and courteous. You will always get that in return from me, I promise to you all. I do not believe in strife, it`s a waste of time. I also would like to thank you all for all of your very informative posts. I never would have thought that I would be able to write such fanciful stories, and have a gas while I`m at it! I truly do thank you all for your candor, and your patience with me while I learn what you already know!! Thanks to you all again, and have a good time of it! Tarina

[austintorn@aol.com]

I think I know you from someplace, Tarina, so I'll just tell you this story from this evening:

Sister Anne announced that there was no smoking on the grounds, and then the play began. Just before intermission, the smoky fog swept into the audience, crawling out and along the floor, but then rising and swirling as a lady on stage whirled round and round holding a brightly lit red rose.

In a very large globe, the last petal was about to fall from another rose as Belle said she loved him. His wounds healed and his beastly look faded into handsomeness.

During intermission I walked to the far front corner of the school yard and up a grassy hill to Van Wyck’s vault of 37 tombs beneath. A sign said that the famous family had come from Long Island and had built this crypt in the 1800’s. I walked into the ‘gate’ gap through the 4-foot stone fence and there I saw Sister Anne lighting up a smoke. As I was wearing all black, she thought I was one of the priests who had come to see the really grand play by the eighth graders.

She gasped and said, “Please don’t tell on me, Father.”

“I won’t,” I assured her, not letting on, “for smoking is not a sin.”

She relaxed. I asked to borrow a cigarette and she lit it for me. We were now as partners in ‘crime’.

“What parish?” she asked.

“Millbrook,” I answered, remembering Father Anthony’s church.

“Oh, yes—is Tony, as he likes to be called, still there?”

“Indeed, I am his tennis coach, too.”

“I heard he likes that sport very much.”

“He is quicker than the Devil himself.”

“Ah. There is a sign in his office that says “Angels Don’t Play Tennis.”

“I made that for him.”

“Cheers, Father—

“Austino.”

“This is the only place left to smoke. We are standing on some tombs.”

“Ashes to ashes.”

“Ha ha.”

[austintorn@aol.com]

“So, Sister, you emerge from the back door of the convent, climb a knoll, and have a smoke with Old Van Wyck, even on such a moonless night as this.”

“Yes, but how did you know my path.”

“My eye is trained.”

“This place is spookily convenient. It is not school property.”

“It sort of at the edge of forever.”

“The marbled angel calls unto us.”

“And so does the 50-50 raffle.”

“Ah, you speak my future, for I have to go in and pick the winner.”

“See you there.”

She cut though the convent to the auditorium.

I read the names on two overflow tombstones of those who couldn’t fit in the crypt. Were these organics still inside or had they ascended to the beyond.

The lights dimmed just as I finally went back into the play. I sat down and then noted Sister Anne looking around, but I was unseen, sitting behind a large lady. I had this outfit on from an April Fool joke at the tennis place. Why mid-April instead of April 1? Because back then they would have suspected me. It was really just a regular white shirt showing from all black, but, it suggested more.

The teacup, the wardrobe, the dishes, the table and the candelabra became fully human again, as well as the beast now returning to his princeliness—all unveiled when the stage fog had dissipated. More musical numbers followed and then flowers were given to all involved.

Belle gave me a hug, as she had been dating the kid renting at my house.

I again climbed the hill. The convent’s back door opened and Miss Anne snuck out and up the hill of one of the last stop on Earth’s marbled globe. I offered her a Marlboro menthol 100 ultra-light with wine flavoring.

It was dark, so I was probably still a priest.

“Ah, you do indulge, Father Austino.”

“It increases concentration, Sister Anne.”

“And poisons the body.”

“But not the soul.”

“The Christian soul is not what many think it is.”

“Yes, it is rather a well-kept secret.”

“So be it.”

“Does the afterlife have a smoking section?”

“Yes, but it is a Hell of a place!”

“Ha-ha, Sister.”

“I’m thinking of quitting.”

“Smoking?”

“No, the Catholic Church.”

“We’ll have to get you out of the habit.”

“Ha-ha, Father.”

The smoke curled up into the sky, lit but dimly by the the tiny source of fire.

I offered, “The spirit rises.”

“But only in an Earthly kind of way.”

“Yes, the church… but the kids love you, plus you selected this musical.”

“You know that I love Beauty and the Beast?”

“It said it in the program.”

“Oh, I hadn’t read it yet. I thought you were psychic.”

“The distressed always have a chance to become good, as shown in the play.”

“And so I feel that I do some good here.”

“So you will probably stick with it.”

“Probably.”

“There was no Saint Austino, you know, Sister.”

“I know; I just looked it up, but there is now.”

“Thank you. You would make a good agent.”

“You are a member of the Ninja Empire—a kind of guardian angel of mankind.’

“Wow! How did you know that?”

“Father Anthony directed me to ToeQuest; I am a member, although I haven’t had time to contribute very often. I mostly read it.”

“Well, then, see you here and there.”

“Yes, atop Old Van Wyck’s remains and on the Quest.”

“The edge of forever, here—and the search for the ultimate, there.”

“And of oblivion and regret.”

“Where all man’s joys, follies, triumphs and sadness come to rest.”

The Smoking Area

[Tarina]

They enjoyed their smokes, and each in their thoughts, both spoke at the same time....
"I".......... They both laughed a sister and a Father, to the passers-by.

[austintorn@aol.com]

At least they weren't holy-rollers of joints.