AUDREY knew her coeval cousin Mikey well. Better than anyone else. They were like twins…welded by their intrinsic nature and like-mindedness.

The minibus stopped at the convent on Camp and Church Streets and six persons alighted. As was the age-old custom she kissed everyone else and then walked up to Mikey, their eyes locked together in warmth and assuredness. No tension, no edginess. Not a word. Just a bumping of fists saying it all. They had already gone through the gamut of ifs and buts. There was no turning back.

An immaculately dressed nun impatiently shuffled her feet and stretched a hand to take Audrey’s capacious suitcase. With a confident wave and the blowing of a kiss, Audrey disappeared into the shadows beyond.
The parochial and less sophisticated aspects of rural upbringing hung heavy in the air as the family gave vent to their despair of losing “a lovely child.” They all kept looking at the door that stood between them and her. Mikey struggled to move and somehow he did, ushering the tearful posse into the bus and away to Parika for a river crossing.

Audrey was drowning in a whirlpool of murky waters, the sound of a nearby waterfall shutting out her screams for help. On the far shore, a demon commanded the turbulence to welcome her into its vortex. She had swallowed what seemed like a gallon of water, and her lungs were stretched to the max. She slipped below the surface once, twice…then surrendered to the depths. Highlights of her life flashed before her. Then the camera shut with decisive finality and harp-playing angels joined in song.

“Wake up Sister Audrey, wake up,” an ethereal voice said through a fog of clouds.

But she was already in heaven. Would she have to wait for a long time at the Pearly Gates? How would she be judged?
She shouted and struggled against pressure on her arms and body.

“Sister, Sister, you’re having another nightmare. Wake up.”
The tone signalled a growing impatience with Lizzie continuous heaven-earth battles, and the nun slapped her into consciousness.
“Where…where am I? she asked groggily.
“Don’t you remember? You’re in the convent.”
Her face was drained of colour, her now ashen countenance frozen in uncertainty.

Clearly concerned, an elderly nun, who resembled Mother Theresa, cautiously interjected, “You came with a letter from the priest in your district. Are you having a change of heart?”
It took her only seconds to utter “no.” A beatific smile seemed to enhance the translucent halo around her pretty face, and the Sisters knew that the worse had passed.

Audrey had made a sudden dramatic decision to enter the Catholic convent in Georgetown to undergo training as a lay nun. She was advised that she would have to go through a mentally rigorous three-month period of training to “test the commitment of the applicant.”

A week after Audrey entered the convent she began to have serious misgivings and, every night afterward was tormented by questions and doubts.

One night into her third week, she stood at a top floor window, her mind a cyclone of fractured thoughts and emotions. She gazed into the distance, absently noting the upper sections of St. George’s Cathedral, the beautiful Gothic building, reputedly the tallest wooden structure in the world. Just beyond that lay Stabroek Market, built by the Dutch, with its huge four-faced clock, and looking like they were almost touching were City Hall and the Magistrates’ Court.

Below, traffic flowed non-stop on streets that had parapets alive with a profusion of flowering plants and imposing trees.
During her short stay, she had keenly observed the eager Sisters bustling here and there in their lusterless raiment, all bound by their oath of poverty, obedience and chastity. She had knelt with them for hours on end, gripping rosary beads and silently reciting familiar prayers. And she had taken her turn serving lunch and dinner to the destitute people who daily thronged the outdoor canteen.

Yet she kept asking herself over and over again. Is this the life you want to embrace the rest of your days? Are those the deeds you want to perform forever?
Audrey paced the room past midnight, sorting through the dust and debris of doubts and uncertainty, dashed hopes and dreams, disaster and lies. When the alarm clock in her head went off at six in the morning, one thing had become clear and obvious – she lacked the optimal commitment to become a nun.

She would prefer to help others in a different way. She wanted to seek new avenues to assist the countless unfortunate women who were abused every day. In fact, she was going to engineer a gale force to hasten a kind of feminist movement, teaching women to fight back mentally and physically.

She had to be able to operate in an unfettered manner, crisscrossing delicate boundaries and making value judgments that might not stand the scrutiny of the squeamish.
She was packed and ready when the Mother Superior emerged from her quarters. Without a word, Audrey handed her an envelope that contained a letter of withdrawal and a check – a donation of some significance.
An hour later, Audrey was at peace with herself, still full of love for the Almighty.