Holding Their Own XV by Joe Nobody

Author:Joe Nobody
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kemah Bay Marketing, LLC

However, no one could say that Sister Rose was a woman who was at a loss for words. Sitting across from the still-woozy men from the Alliance, she began her narrative in a soft, but firm, voice. “The economy was so bad right before the downfall,” the nun explained. “My Archdiocese was running a soup kitchen 20 hours a day. The shelters were full. We were seeing more and more children among the displaced… too many homeless families and not enough resources to take care of them all.”

Her eyes bored into Bishop’s, their intensity and passion making him uncomfortable. “When the electricity went out, it reminded me of Katrina, only this time I knew it wouldn’t be coming back on. There would be no government response, no federal troops coming to the rescue. The last news reports showed Houston and Atlanta burning, Washington, DC engulfed in riots, and mass looting occurring up and down the Eastern Seaboard. My sisters and volunteers all had the same look of terror in their eyes, a fear of the unknown. The world around us was convulsing, people reacting out of pure self-preservation and primitive emotions. Greed. Horror. Anger and rage. Without my faith, I’m not sure how I would have survived.”

Sister Rose then stood and began pacing the room, circling the two seated captives while her accompanying figures continued to keep watch silently in the shadows. “At first, I was proud of how humanity rose to the challenge,” she continued. “Charity, benevolence, and mercy ruled the streets. The people of New Orleans tried to help one another, sharing food, medicine, and whatever resources they could spare. We of the faith did what we could, reassuring everyone who would listen, that God would provide… take care of us… that he loved us… that we were his children.”

Pausing, Sister Rose lowered her head and worked the rosary hanging from her neck. Bishop couldn’t be sure, but he thought her lips were whispering a prayer. A moment later, her voice again filled the room.

“It was less than four weeks before I saw the first man shot in the street. I was walking from my quarters to the church when a commotion broke out less than 50 feet away from my path. I spotted one man trying to pull a can of food away from another, the way a purse thief would yank on a lady’s bag. He managed only a few steps with his prize before the owner pulled a pistol and shot him in the back.”

Again, Sister Rose took her seat, her gaze focused now on Nick. “That incident changed me forever. It wasn’t the violence… the murder, or the lack of response from the police. No, what shook me to the core was the casual reaction by everyone on the street. A few stopped and stared as the killer retrieved his can of food from the dead man’s hands, but most just kept on walking as if nothing more had occurred than a pesky insect had been swatted out of the air.

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