Marianne spent the time just after her lunch on June 16 tending to the flower garden behind the convent. She could have let the grounds keeper take care of it, she supposed; but it gave her something to do, something that she desired more as her nervous energy built up within her. Besides, it was honest work, and the Lord rewarded her efforts by letting the flowers grow big and beautiful.
As far back as she could remember, she had wanted to become a nun. She greatly admired the nuns who taught her growing up, and she always wanted to emulate them. It only amused her to see other girls her age showing their cleavage and their legs. She almost pitied them: they had not had the calling she had. And tomorrow, she was to take her final vows, and become a bride of Christ.
Of course, there would be work for her to do as a nun. At this convent, the other nuns were much older. Until she took her vows, the youngest nun there, Sister Madeline, was in her fifties; she stayed active, but she had begun developing arthritis. The Mother Superior, by contrast, was in her eighties. She may have been confined to a wheelchair, but she was sharp as a tack.
As Marianne carried the weeds she had pulled to the rubbish bin, she was caught by surprise by a thick white mist that blew in. Odd, she thought, I don't think the meteorologist said anything about fog. This was unlike any fog she had seen before: It wasn't cold or clammy, not in the least. But it was definitely thick; she couldn't see a foot in front of her. She tried to find her way back to the rear door.
"Marianne?"
She was relieved to hear the voice of Sister Madeline calling for her. "Keep talking, Sister; I can't see where I'm going."
"Well, you'd better come back in, Marianne. You wouldn't want to catch anything before your big day."
That was most helpful, and Marianne soon joined her at the door.
Once inside, Marianne's duties mostly took the form of helping the older nuns in one way or another. After all, they were of advanced age, and not all of them could do everything for themselves. In between, she caught on the news the revelation that the mist was from something that happened at Helix Chemical. It relieved her to hear that the mist was harmless.
That night, she dressed for bed, and knelt for her evening prayers. Then, after reading a devotional, she turned out the lights and went to sleep, looking forward to what tomorrow would bring.
Or, rather, what she thought it would bring.
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