The Kissing Booth Girl and Other Stories by A.C. Wise

Author:A.C. Wise [Wise, A.C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General Fiction
Publisher: Lethe Press
Published: 2016-08-21T16:00:00+00:00

Through the dark waters, Lucy swam, pulling the boat of wood and bone behind her. When the final mass of the day was at an end, Lucy slipped into the chapel and led Sister Francine of the Eternal Abalone out to admire her handiwork. Lucy held her breath as the Mother Superior studied the little rowboat.

Sister Francine’s lips twitched, caught halfway between a smile and a frown.

“And just what do you plan to do with this boat, child?”

“Increase our ministry!” Lucy answered evenly. It was not a lie.

“You propose to become a missionary, then?” Sister Francine arched a brow, her expression wry.

“If you’ll allow it, Mother Superior.” Lucy bowed her head demurely, and hid her smile.

Sister Francine shook her head, a gesture that was both exasperated and amused.

“Very well. May the Drowned Virgin watch over you and guide you, child.”

When Lucy looked up, Sister Francine was smiling.

“One more favor, if I may, Mother Superior.” Lucy looked at Sister Francine hopefully.

“Yes?”

“May I gather the order to help christen my ship?”

Sister Francine sighed and shook her head again, but her lips quirked upwards at the corner. With a smile Lucy swam up to the bell tower, and rocked the great lichen-crusted bell. It was heavy and hard to move underwater, but the clapper in the sleeve echoed through the waves and called the sisters back to the chapel yard.

There, among the bright anemones and the gently waving kelp, Sister Francine blessed the ship of wood and bone and gave both it and the dead man a new name. Lucy could feel the other sisters around her. On one side, she was flanked by Sister Genevieve of the Holy Kelp, and on the other, Sister Iris of the Unwavering Coral Reef. Their voices were strong in the water, and they gave Lucy strength, too. As the order prayed, Lucy raised her head and snuck a glance at the Mother Superior. Behind her faceplate there was a twinkle in Sister Francine’s eyes—a spark that might have been pride.

At dawn the next morning, Lucy pulled the little boat up to the surface and righted it upon the waves. As she surfaced, her copper helm was a gleaming twin to the rising sun. Lucy pulled herself on board, and then looked back down through the waves.

The beveled view was strange, like seeing the world upside down. Drifting in the current, the Sisters of the Blessed Diving Order waved, and just beyond them she saw Sister Francine, hanging back a little, but still smiling. The Mother Superior raised her hand, and Lucy raised hers in turn.

The waves lapped gently against the hull of wood and bone, and though it had been hastily built the sea bore it up and it did not leak. Cautiously Lucy reached up and undid the seals on her helmet. There was a hiss of air as she twisted it and lifted it free. The breeze kissed her cheeks with the new sun, and both light and wind played in her long red-gold hair.

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