The nearest Catholic church was small and of a newer design, so was missing the gothic spires and ornate stained glass. It was more squat–ready to be changed out for a different denomination, or formally a different denomination–with bright, cheery abstract stained glass in a handful of the windows.
It was quiet and still with it being a Wednesday mid-morning. Penny pulled open the heavy front door, slipped inside, and headed towards the inner chamber.
The priest was leaning towards the elderly range. His slate gray hair was rough and thin in places. His skin was browned, wrinkled, and leathery. He wore his black shirt and white collar; the standard, generic uniform that gave her no hints to which order he belonged to.
“Welcome,” he greeted. “Are you here for confession?” He looked beyond her. “Is it just you?”
“Yes, Father,” Penny said. “So… where’s the confessional?”
“The congregation prefers a more conversational form, but we can work something out," the priest said. He started to rise, groaning.
“It’s fine,” Penny said quickly. “I can sit behind you. That’ll work.”
She settled in the pew behind him. She inspected the hymnals and missiles in the wooden pocket. They were familiar to her, but so different being paperback and an odd mixture of worn corners but unbroken spines.
“Would you like me to begin traditionally, or would you prefer to just talk,” the priest asked, turning slightly to see her.
“You aren’t supposed to look back!”
“My mistake,” he said, sounding slightly amused and turning to face forward.
Penny dropped the kneeler and stood upon it to peer over the Father’s shoulder. She studied his sleeve cuffs, but saw no signs of embroidery.
“Are you a Marian,” Penny asked.
“Augustinian,” he said. “My, you are quite informed, aren’t you? Not many little girls, or adults for that fact, even know there are different religious orders.”
“I was mostly raised in a group home run by nuns,” Penny said. “My aunt is a nun too.”
“Is she now? Well, that’s quite a connection to your faith.”
“It’s just me and her as far as I know,” Penny said. “My mom gave me up when I was born, and I never got to meet my grandmother.” She sank back into the pew. “I found out she died last summer.”
“That must’ve been hard.”
“Weird. What was hard was being moved out of that group home and all the way down here to West Virginia when my aunt was gone for the funeral. We never got to say goodbye. And worse, I found out a few weeks ago that the home was shut down around the same time I was sent away, so no one would’ve told her what happened to me.” She leaned onto the pew beside the priest’s head. “She’s mostly connected with Marians, so I was hoping you’d be able to figure out how to tell her where I was. Just so she can stop worrying since I know she is.”
“Even without being a Marian, I can still try,” the priest said. “So long as that works with your current living arrangements. I assume you have a foster family and a case worker?”
“My fosters are awful people,” Penny said. She sank back again. “And my foster sisters aren’t great. The other foster kid is just a bully, and the biological daughter mostly ignores me.”
The priest started to turn but hastily faced forward again as Penny gave a small throat clearing. “Is there abuse?”
The question caught her off guard. She had never been hit, although had been afraid of it. She was fed, clothed, and had her own room.
“I don’t think so… They’re just mean. They yell a lot. I think they’re taking the stipends too.”
The priest hummed but did not ask a follow-up. He probably heard nothing but complaints about parents from the kids that went to confession.
“But, really, I’m trying to find my aunt,” Penny pivoted. “My fosters will never agree to it. They call us foster kids ‘cash cows’.”
The priest hummed again. “I could contact the diocese and see what comes of that.”
“Really? Thank you,” Penny said, leaning on the pew. “She goes by Sister Mary Agnes, but her not-nun name is Aisling Fox. Do you know when you’d hear anything?”
“Patience, my child,” the priest said, sounding mildly amused again. “I will ask for two weeks at the least. I don’t want you skipping school repeatedly to come here asking after this.”
Penny blushed guiltily.
“Is there anything else you wish to speak about? While I believe you should return to school soon, I will not turn you away should you need to talk.”
She shifted awkwardly as her mind wandered towards Brooke. She recently shoplifted lip gloss to wear to school. She was keeping her bangs back, and only walked back from school with her twice a week now; she stayed after with Mr. McBride all the other days. She had also changed out her usual longsleeved shirts for shorter ones, showing off the scars she’d been giving herself.
“Maybe next time,” Penny said. “There’s something… but it isn’t about me. It feels weird to talk about something like that.”
“Whenever you’re ready.” He turned and held out his hand. “It was very nice to meet you…?”
“Penny.” She shook his hand. “Hail Marys or Our Fathers?”
He smirked. “How about one of each? Just to set your mind at ease.”
---
The days until the two week timeline crawled painfully by. Not even the buzz of the coming Spring Break could distract Penny from finally getting in contact with Aisling. She would give way to daydreams of Aisling showing up at the school or at the Lamberts, and dragging her away. She would take her to meet her mother, and whatever riff between the sisters would be healed.
She found herself thinking more of her mother. Aaliyah had mentioned more than once that she wasn’t a candidate for adoption–likely she overheard the Lamberts complaining–and it started her wondering why she wasn’t. Her father was not on her birth certificate, so could not claim her. Aisling was her only living relative, and her vows prevented her from taking her. That only left her mother; her mother had planned to come for her despite giving her up at birth.
“Hello, Penny? You still with us?”
Penny jolted from her thoughts. She had a pudgy boy staring at her with a mix of concern and annoyance, indicating he had been trying to talk to her for a while.
“Sorry, Colton…” She looked around at the little table of artistic misfits. “Where’s Brooke?”
“English room,” Colton said, rolling his eyes. “Forget her for now; we’re trying to figure out Spring Break. I thought you’d have some opinion since your fosters are ditching you. Guess I was mistaken.”
She narrowed her eyes playfully but didn’t respond further. The Lamberts had declared they were taking a family trip, just the three of them, to the nearby lake for the week. She and Aaliyah were to be left with one of the neighbors in the cul-de-sac. They had foster kids at one point, so saw no issues with them temporarily becoming their guardians. They left Aaliyah with them whenever they wanted time away.
“There’s a farmers market that’s pretty neat,” Destiny, a small and skinny girl said. “Sometimes you can find pottery and wood burned stuff, not just food.”
“Boring,” Colton groaned. “We need something more adventurous.”
“Adventerous,” snorted tall and wiry Gage. “Like what? Stealing a car? Running off into the woods for the week?”
“I could go for hiking,” Penny said. She craned her neck towards the hall. “Maybe we should go get Brooke? She’s probably got ideas.”
“She’s too busy being ga-ga. Just leave her alone. She’ll snap out of it when she remembers he’s old.” Colton leaned into the group, lowering his voice. “My brother showed me how to drive the ATV. We can do better than hiking. Just once. Mom will kill me if she finds out.”
“So, then we just need to decide if we want to break our legs at the start of break or as break ends,” Gage said jokingly.
“Duh. At the end,” Penny said. “We can miss school.”
“You guys suck,” Colton grumbled, suppressing a smirk.
The loose plan was to go with Destiny and Whitney to the farmers market for one afternoon. As fun as Destiny made it sound, Penny couldn’t fathom going more than once, especially since she had no money. She would definitely take Colton up on the ATV ride on the last day, and she was hoping to do some hiking between the two events.
“You got Aaliyah to worry about,” Gage said. “She won’t have your fosters around to keep her in check.”
“Exactly,” Colton said. “She’s going to be really busy with all that freedom.”
He raised his eyebrows at Gage knowingly. Gage snickered with his cheeks reddening.
Penny ignored them. She had become increasingly aware that Aaliyah had more than just her reputation as a bully circulating in the halls. Colton having a brother in Aaliyah’s class led him to more first hand knowledge, but Penny decided not to ask for details or see proof.
She waited outside the school for Brooke after the final bell. The others had long gone on their buses, and it was up to her alone to get Brooke’s input on what they’d be doing for Spring Break.
She went through the pictures on her phone, smiling at the six different will o’ the wisp and the two of the gnome next door. The rest were a mix of nature shots and closeups of plants coming out of winter hibernation.
Mr. McBride headed for his car with Brooke trotting obediently at his heels. He smiled at her and brushed her hair off her shoulder.
“You’re such a pleasure to have in class,” he said. “So mature for your age. It’s refreshing.” He opened the passenger’s door. “Can I give you a lift home?”
“That’d be great,” Penny said, emerging from next to the school. She smiled widely at them both; no smiles were returned. “Thanks, Mr. McBride.” She shut the passenger’s side and opened the backdoor. “Come on, Brooke. I’ll catch you up on what you missed.”
The ride was mercifully short with their street just two blocks from the school. Brooke was quietly fuming next to her in the back, refusing to look her way. Mr. McBride was silent and his stare was fixed ahead more than normal for a drive with a few turns.
“Thanks for the ride, Tony,” Brooke murmured. She glared at Penny and slammed the door after her.
Penny didn't thank Mr. McBride. She shut her door and hurried after Brooke.
“Why’re you mad at me,” Penny snapped. “All I did—.”
“You know exactly what you did,” Brooke said, rounding on her.
Penny crossed her arms tightly. “He's creepy, Brooke. I don’t know why you—.”
“He is not!” Brooke's eyes welled up. She scoffed. “You wouldn't understand. You're still such a little kid, with your pictures and magic talk.”
“You sound like Aaliyah,” Penny said, glaring. “Crushing on some old guy doesn't make you better than me.”
Brooke let out a sob and ran for the Wilcox house. Penny felt a stab in her chest, unsure the exact emotion, and dragged herself into the Lambert home. The snide demands from Mrs. Lambert bounced off her as she went immediately to her room. She watched the Wilcox garden from her window until dinner, but Brooke never appeared.
---
The light filtering through the abstract rosette window created a stream of colors on the tiled aisle. Penny sat in the silence, fiddling with her pocketed phone. She glanced around, sure she was alone, and pulled it out. She opened the camera and aimed it at the patch of light.
“Back so soon?”
Her phone clattered onto the floor. She scrambled for it, tucking it away and flushing red as the priest approached. His eyes went to the spot where her phone had been, and he raised a bushy eyebrow.
“T-the light is pretty,” Penny stammered. “It won’t happen again.”
“I don’t see anything wrong with taking photos inside the church,” the priest said. “So long as you aren’t taking pictures of the mass or of parishioners without their permission, I see it as a good way to show the beauty of our church with others.” He settled down in the pew in front of her. “Patience is hard for your age, I understand, but I haven’t heard anything yet. The two weeks isn’t quite up, but I will warn you that you may need to wait longer.”
“It’s not about that… I know you said not to skip school, but I have to go to my foster family’s church on Sundays.”
“What’s on your mind, my child?”
“I got into a fight with my best friend a couple of days ago,” Penny murmured. She took out her phone to give her hands something to do. “I know this is dumb….”
“Friendships are important. There is nothing dumb about the anxiety one feels when they hit snags.”
She relaxed a bit, but still kept her phone in her hands. She started scrolling through the tiles of photos absentmindedly.
“Lately… she’s started thinking she’s better than me,” Penny said. “All because she has a crush on….” She had an odd embarrassed feeling. Brooke would be furious if Mr. McBride got into trouble, and Penny did not have solid proof he was acting inappropriately. “She never believed in magic so long as I've known her, but now she’s teasing me about it with my bully foster sister.”
“Adolences is a difficult time,” the priest said sagely. “You and your friend are just developing and changing interests at different paces. Someday, you too will no longer believe in magic and will start to have crushes on boys. With that said, it is wrong for her to tease you for not meeting her same pace.”
Penny stared at her first picture of the will o’ the wisp. Frustration gripped tight around her chest at the sane, rationale of what the priest was saying. It was sensible advice if this was as sensible and straightforward as puberty hitting at different times.
“Brooke—My friend is wrong,” Penny said. “She’s wrong about the crush. She’s wrong, so wrong, about magic. And,” her green eyes bore into the back of the priest’s head, “you’re wrong too. I won’t outgrow magic. I can’t.”
“It sounds like this is a battle of prides. Stubbornness does not become, Penny. You can show your maturity by accepting that your friend’s crush is a normal, healthy development; just as someday releasing more… storybook notions is normal and—.”
She thrust the picture of the haunt in front of the priest’s face. She allowed him to take her phone as she sank back into her own pew. The screen flickered as he exited to the whole album and clicked to enlarge individual pictures, pausing longest on the two of the gnome.
“I can't,” Penny repeated quietly. “I know magic is real. I've seen it, and I'm always noticing the creatures people think are just stories.”
The priest was no longer going through the photos. He just held the phone open with the single picture of the gnome. Even from her vantage point, Penny could tell he was ashen.
She swallowed roughly, and plucked her phone from his hands. She shoved it back in her pocket and let the silence fall over them.
He cleared his throat, but his tone was a bit higher as he asked, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
“I’m showing proof that I’m not being a baby and that’s all you’re asking,” Penny asked with clear irritation. “Should I show Brooke? Will she listen to me about Mr. McBride if I prove I’m not being a baby?”
“Mr. McBride?”
“The guy she has a crush on!”
The priest straightened and twisted the best he was able to set a firm gaze upon Penny. She shrunk back, biting her lip at her small outburst.
“Penny, have you seen this Mr. McBride behave inappropriately towards Brooke, or is she merely telling you of her affections?”
“I don’t…. He’s her English teacher, and she’s good at English….”
“Penny,” he said, his voice softening a degree. “You are not in trouble. Brooke is not going to get into trouble. Can you tell me a little bit about why you don’t like her having a crush on this teacher?”
“You can’t tell anyone,” Penny blurted out. “This is a straight up confession. It’s confidential. Okay?”
She told him about seeing Mr. McBride touching Brooke’s arms, or hair, or shoulders multiple times, and always when he thought no one was around. She told him about Brooke staying after school with him alone to help him set up for the next day, and about how her insides squirmed when he’d notice she saw them. Or about how he was clearly annoyed when she’d tag along, or take Brooke away, or interrupt them. She told him about the comments he would make; telling Brooke how smart she was, or how mature, but how it sounded strange and foreboding in a way she couldn’t explain. She mentioned how Brooke had a rough time throughout her foster homes—this one with the Wilcox being no different—so Brooke took to cutting her arms, and how Mr. McBride always reassured her that she was still pretty despite it.
Penny was out of breath as if she’d run miles when she finished. A weight lifted from her shoulders, and she found a relieved smile on her face.
“It was good to tell me, Penny,” the priest said. “Anything else?”
“No,” Penny said. “I feel better. Hail Marys or Our Fathers?”
“One Hail Mary for skipping school. Three Our Fathers for impatience.” He struggled up to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it. I have to start on my paperwork for the day.” He gave her an odd, sad smile. “Try to stay in school.”
She gave a nod and settled on her knees. Her mind wandered as she murmured her prayers under her breath. There was Spring Break to look forward to now. There was reconnecting with Aisling soon after that. She would have to ask about her mother. It would’ve been great if Aisling even showed up on the Lamberts’ doorstep with Keena to take her away; the remaining Fox family reunited at long last.
Penny smiled happily, crossed herself to end her prayers, and skipped from the church.
------------------------------------------
I didn't name the priest because unless Penny was more active in the church, she probably wouldn't know his name. We only know our's becuse it's on the bullitin they hand out before mass. I never pinpointed where Penny was living/growing up, but I think it's probably rural NY since she always referes to WV as 'down there' and it was states away. It'd make sense since I have connections to rural NY. I'd probably put St. Brigid's nearer to the Hudson Valley area (Sleepy Hollow! Millbrook!) since I like that area and it's closer to WV.
Small intros for the other "weird" kids. I think I have the list as Colton, Gage, Levi, Destiny, and Whitney. Guess Levi and Whitney are the quiet ones, lol.
And back with the preist. I'm always not sure about the proper thing when you're in the church when it comes to pictures. I typcally just don't do pictures unless it's an event like baptism, a perforamce, or something, since that's personal to whichever kid is going through it. So, when I was in Latvia years ago, I was allowed to go into one of the churches older than the USA when other tourists were yelled at and turned out, because I was dressed more approprately (modest shirt/skirt) and I knew the correct reverence to show when entering since I'm from a Catholic family. I knelt in the back and very sneakily took I think one picture because, wow, then left. I'm betting if I went it with my phone out, or they caught me taking photos, they would've asked me to leave though.
A Tier half-transformed as a dracleon back in 2005.
Coronation, 2009
I have made at least 2 attempts at drawing the Alan Parsons Project song "Snake Eyes"... this is one from 2011...
...And this one from 2013. I like aspects of both; maybe the layout of this one but mixed with the realism of the other? I need to study my cobra anatomy if I'm going to try again, hah.
Twila Sketch, unknown
And here's just an Ace with epic scarf. I just really like scarves. This was dated 2014!
Train in the Distance, 2014?
Ava Harley, 2016
