Splinter

By Remittance Girl

For thousands of years, man has sought experience of the divine. He has found
strange and sometimes shocking ways to achieve it. Dolores Gutierrez has had
visions since early childhood. Convinced that God is calling her to holy orders,
she has modeled herself on Teresa of Avila, a medieval saint. But it is pain, not
prayer, that brings her visions.

Acutely aware of the dark history of his own religion, Father Steven, the sensible
priest of her parish, is certain that Dolores is far more in need of psychiatric care
than a nun’s habit. He seeks the help of a colleague, Brother Simon, to assess the
disturbed Dolores.

Uniquely qualified to counsel the young woman because of his own struggles
with self-immolation, Simon takes on the task only reluctantly; he is not
convinced his own demons have been put to rest. Is God really speaking to
Dolores, or is it something else?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Remittance Girl
• Release date: Nov 15, 2012
• ISBN: 9781939175021

Remittance Girl

Remittance Girl lives and writes in exile in a small Southeast Asian country, where she teaches and grows orchids in a house with a large mango tree and a cat called Seven. She holds a Master of Arts in Writing. Driven by the conviction that eroticism is an overlooked but essential part of human nature, Remittance Girl believes that examining this important part of our lives is essential to gaining insight into what motivates us, frames our social interactions and forms our interior sense of self. Erotic fantasies, even very dark ones, give us clues with which we can decipher the symbolic language we use to express who we are and how we fit into our society. Her novellas and short stories have appeared in electronic format on her own website, at ww.cleansheets.com and in the Erotica Readers and Writers online gallery. A number of short stories have appeared in print anthologies.

Book preview

The Splinter

Remittance Girl

Published by Burning Book Press at Smashwords

Burning Book Press, llc

The Splinter

Remittance Girl

Copyright 2012 by Remittance Girl

Cover Design: Madeleine Morris

ISBN: 9781939175021

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dear, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains sexually explicit scenes and graphic language that may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where minors cannot access them.

WARNING

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Chapter One

Most likely to become a nun, Mrs. Gutierrez said, stabbing her bony finger at the text on the page of the glossy yearbook. We’re a good Catholic family, Father Steven, but… this… and in her high school year book! I don’t want my daughter becoming a nun. She’s all I have, my only child. You have to talk to her, Father.

Father Steven sat across the table from Dolores’s mother and nodded sagely, the way he always did when he was letting one of his parishioners vent. He was actually in full agreement with Eugenia Gutierrez, but was hesitant to elaborate. She pushed the yearbook across the kitchen table to where the priest sat, rattling his teacup in its saucer.

The kitchen was cramped and full of shabby knickknacks. Memorial plates, plastic flowers, a parade of little miniature saints and gaudy devotional candles sat on almost every available surface. The walls were hung with images of the Virgin Mary in her habitual blue cloak. One was clutching a baby Jesus to her chest; the other held her hands wide, exposing a lurid pink heart. Over the melamine kitchen table, a plastic shaded lamp gave everything stark, grimy outlines.

Looking down at the open book, Father Steven recognized a number of the kids. Each was posed in that awkward school-portrait way: bodies angled sideways, faces staring into the lens, their forms framed by an improbably blue sky with puffy clouds. Dolores Gutierrez was in the second row from the top. A fragile girl with long, dark hair parted in the middle and tucked neatly behind her ears. Brown eyes stared up at him and only a hint of a smile showed on her lips. She had a strong chin, like her mother’s. A pretty girl, as her mother had been until work and grief and dental problems had eaten away at her face.

It’s the same as before, Father. Dolores takes her penance a little too seriously. I thought she’d grow out of it, but…

Father Steven nodded again. Still at it, is she?

Mrs. Gutierrez looked down into her camomile tea, as if she were the Oracle of Delphi. I don’t know where she gets it from, all this obsession with saints and martyrs. I know you think I’m to blame, but I didn’t tell her those kind of stories. I’ve always thought those stories were not very nice. My sister, Carmen, from San Diego, says I am too strict with her, that I should encourage her to go out more and have a good time. But look at where we live? I want her to have friends. But not in a gang—no! I want her to be a good girl, and find a nice novio and get married.

Father Steven reached out and patted Mrs. Gutierrez on the hand. I’ve spoken to her before and I can try again, if you’d like, but she’s of legal age, Eugenia. If she wants to become a nun, and the convent accepts her into the novitiate, there’s not much any of us can do about it.

It’s because of her father died, isn’t it? Mrs. Gutierrez stared at her cupboards as if they were some distant horizon. If Alfonso hadn’t died… if there had been a man around the house, maybe she’d be happy and looking forward to starting a normal life with family of her own. But she doesn’t want a normal life. She wants to be a nun.

Struggling to follow the logic, the priest lifted an eyebrow.

Oh! I didn’t mean to infer that nuns aren’t normal, Father. Mrs Gutierrez rushed to cover her embarrassment. The Sisters of the Sacred Heart have been a blessing to our community. I just meant that…

Yes, yes, Eugenia. I understand. It’s a special calling that few hear and even fewer follow. A mother naturally wants the comfort of grandchildren. I’ll do my very best to make her see reason.

Oh, thank you, Father. I’m so relieved. I’m sure that you can make her see reason.

The priest stood up from the table, put his dusty black hat on, and allowed Mrs. Gutierrez to help him as he shrugged his big shoulders into his overcoat. Tell her to come see me on Thursday evening after the Stations of the Cross, in the rectory. I’ll have another chat with her.

On his walk home, Father Steven was thankful of the chilly autumn evening air. The smell of burning leaves curled round the houses like an old familiar