It had become clear to her that she needed to meet Michael, or Michelle, as she had begun calling him in her head. There was no way around it. Michelle invaded every moment. No amount of reading, meditation, or work could keep the thoughts at bay. Soon, her private time morphed into a refresher study of Greek. At first, she had taken up simply spying on Michelle, but she quickly lost satisfaction from the act. Instead of assuaging her curiosity, spying fueled it. It was no longer an option to simply observe. She needed to interact.
The idea was crazy, but Amaia didn’t have any sane ideas left. There were only a few weeks before Michelle died, and there was no telling if she would come back. This was Michael’s first female life that Amaia knew about, and she didn’t want to miss out on it if it turned out to be the last. The argument seemed flimsy even to her. She knew the chances were this was not Michelle’s last turn on the wheel of life, just as it wasn’t Michael’s.
To avoid suspicion, Amaia climbed the ladders instead of the cliff to reach the monastery. Reaching the top, she smoothed her simple gray dress and went toward Michelle’s energy. Amaia found her working away in one of the monastery’s many gardens.
“Excuse me. Do you mind if I join you?” Amaia stood above Michelle, casting a shadow over her.
Michelle looked up, squinting against the sun as she tried to make out Amaia’s features. “Not at all. An extra pair of hands is always welcome.”
Amaia knelt next to Michelle and began weeding. “My name is Karena. The abbess suggested I speak to some of the sisters. I’m considering becoming a nun.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Karena. My name is Leonilla. I’m happy to answer any questions.”
Michelle’s voice was familiar, an echo of Michael’s. Amaia’s energy vibrated, taken by the sight of Michael in female form. Especially in the form of a simple and humble nun, complete with habit. Her long, slender face and high cheekbones were attractive with a softness to her jaw, mouth, and cheeks that contrasted with Michael’s usual hard features. Amaia wished she could see her hair, but Michelle never uncovered her head. Unfortunately, her sleeping chamber had no window.
Amaia smiled, trying to mirror Michelle’s cheery disposition. “Thank you. I was hoping you might tell me why you decided to become a nun.”
“I believe the better question is: why do you want to?”
Amaia had prepared for this. In truth, she had no idea why anyone would want to live a life of religious devotion. All she could do was recite what she’d heard over the years spent loitering in churches. “I’m seeking purpose. I feel like this is the path God wants for me. I want to feel closer to him, to lead a more spiritually fulfilling life.”
“It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.” Michelle had the same soft confidence that Michael always had. The smile she wore lit her face. Amaia didn’t think she had ever seen a more beautiful smile.
“Maybe I have. Now, I told you my reasons. Why don’t you share yours?”
Michelle focused back on her weeding. “I was left here as a child. My parents gave me to the monastery as an oblate. The sisters have raised me since I was a little girl. I always knew I would one day take my vows.”
“I suppose you never really had a choice.”
“Of course I did. I could have stayed as an oblate and never taken my vows. I wanted to make that lifetime commitment to Christ.”
While Michael had never been particularly religious, the commitment to see something all the way through was reminiscent of the man Amaia had known.
“That’s admirable.” Amaia focused on the weeding and tried not to show just how un-admirable she actually found it.
Michelle glanced at Amaia out of the corner of her eye. “You look familiar. Have we met somewhere before?”
Amaia’s heart stopped instinctually, as if her body wanted to disappear. She recovered, ensuring that her skin didn’t pale for any length of time that Michelle could notice. “I’m from Kalabaka. You’ve likely seen me there.”
“Hmm.” She didn’t seem convinced, but it appeared she was polite enough to accept Amaia’s answer. Michelle gathered up the weeds into a wicker basket, and Amaia rose with her to deposit them in the waste barrel.
“Do you ever regret your decision? Wish that you were free of the restrictions it places on you?” While the whole idea of nuns bored Amaia, Michelle fascinated her.
“No. I wouldn’t have taken my vows if I were going to regret it.” Michelle deposited the weeds with the rest of the waste. Leaning on the barrel, she stared at Amaia. “Are you sure we’ve never met? I feel like I know you.”
Amaia forced herself to meet Michelle’s eyes, even though her instincts told her to run. Her skin prickled in anticipation, but despite Amaia’s fears, there was only a flicker of curiosity in Michelle’s eyes. “I’m certain. I would remember.”
“Odd. I know you said I may have seen you in town, but I could swear I’ve seen you in my dreams, even as a child. It sounds silly, I know.”
Amaia tried to concentrate on relaxing without concentrating so hard that it made relaxation impossible. “You probably saw my mother as a child. I look exactly like her.”