Free Ceremony of Flies by Kate Jonez Page A

dish the nun gives him. It’s the most disgusting noise I’ve ever heard.
    Sister Azrael, Azzie I’m going to call her for short, doesn’t eat anything herself. She sits down right next to Rex and slides a big leather-bound book in front of her. She opens it up. Flecks of dust rise up from it and glitter in the light streaming in through the window. Bet that old thing has a serious silverfish infestation. Wedged in between the parchment pages is a bird feather. She takes it out and dips it into a bottle of ink. These people take their reenactment fantasies way too seriously.
    “Name of the Mister?” Azzie flutters her eyelashes at Rex.
    He doesn’t seem to mind one bit.
    “You want to write my name in that book?”
    “I do.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek.
    I didn’t think nuns were supposed to do shit like that.
    Rex looks at her like he’s in love or some fucking thing and tells her his name.
    She writes it in big flourishy letters, then looks at me.
    “Me?”
    She nods.
    “Emily,” I say.
    Fuck, I should have lied about my name. The last thing I need is to be on the record.
    “Emily…Dickinson.”
    She doesn’t react to the name even a little. She just writes it down and looks at it on the page. She picks up her napkin and leans across the table to dip the corner in my glass of water. She rubs the page like she’s trying to wash one of the names away. I can’t see which one.
    A darkness blocks the light from the door.
    “Fra Serra!” The nun squeals with glee. She snaps the book shut.

 
     
     
    Spanish Missions
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Fra Juníper Serra, on behalf of the royal family of Spain, founded the mission system California. He worked at the enterprise until his death at age 70.
    The purpose of the missions was to convert and educate the Native Americans in the hopes of turning them into ordinary taxpaying citizens.
    El Camino Real, The Royal Road, connected all of the California missions. It eventually became Highway 101.
    After Mexico gained independence from Spain in 1821, it could no longer afford to keep the missions running. The land and buildings were offered for sale to the Native Americans. Still not in favor of making payments to invaders, they declined.
    During his presidency, President Abraham Lincoln formally required the return of the missions to the Roman Catholic Church. The missions that haven’t declined into an unsafe state of decay still operate as churches. They hold regular services.
    Most are open to the public.

 
     
     
    9
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    “Hey, Kitty.” Rex rolls a cigarette and dampens it down with his lips before handing it to me. That kind of grosses me out, but I take it anyway. “You ever watch one of them telenovellas on the Spanish TV?”
    “I’ve seen them, I guess, flipping through channels. But I’ve never watched one all the way through if that’s what you mean. Why?”
    He flicks open his Zippo and strikes it for me. I only ever smoked weed and I almost choke myself on the first hit of the cigarette.
    We’re sitting in chairs made of wood slats out in front of the room Sister Azzie says is going to be ours. The room is small and cramped as a cave with a bed that’s only a little wider than a single and a cot for the kid. I guess they think we’re married. They must, because they’re religious and it doesn’t seem like they’d approve of out-of-wedlock shenanigans. I sure as hell don’t want to tell them the real story.
    The sun’s hovering around the horizon. The light is causing all the shadows to turn painterly shades of pink and violet. Dark will show up before long. I’m dreading the dark more than usual. I can’t really say why. I’ve got this feeling like sleeping in that little bed is the point of no return. Stupid, I know. I passed that bump in the road a long time ago.
    “I’ve been thinking I might have a face that’d be good for Spanish TV,” Rex says.
    The magic-hour light is especially