CHAPTER TWO

"Sister, we need more stamps for the campaign mail."

Sister Mary Theresa looked up from a stack of papers lying neatly in front of her. It had been a long day. Mother Superior was somewhat upset because of the long hours the four nuns had been putting in at this campaign office. But Church policy hadn't expressly forbidden political activity as long as it wasn't disruptive to either the community or the faith. This office was perfect, Sister Mary Theresa had thought. Although sponsored by a senator running for re-election shortly, the drive here was for a cleaning up of air pollution there in Los Angeles.

"I don't know if we have enough in the budget," she said, looking sadly at a slightly young nun sitting behind a typewriter. They had done so well up to this point, running a successful campaign with the minimum of staff and equipment. But Sister Mary Theresa knew they couldn't keep on this way without more money. And support didn't come often enough in the form of money.

"What a shame, Sister Mary Theresa!" the younger nun said, pushing away from the typewriter and sighing. "We've come such a long way, and to think we're being stopped by lack of stamps."

"Sister Georgiana and Sister Clarissa are out now trying to raise funds at UCLA. Sister Georgiana goes there for class, and she thought… well, maybe she was too hopeful," Sister Mary Theresa said, correcting herself, feeling depression weigh her down. The campaign had been going so well, well enough to take her mind off that terrible evening when she'd done that awful thing to her body. Still she hadn't been able to bring herself to confess her guilt. She was living in sin, multiplying her sin by taking communion with the other sisters while she had this blot on her soul.

"I hope something comes in. We have to get the public more interested in this. It's becoming hard to breathe here."

Sister Mary Dominic was right. Their convent was just off Adams Boulevard, near the center of downtown Los Angeles. Too often the young nuns peered from their windows and saw the sky gradually turn a brownish yellow as the morning slipped by. A sagging economy and demand for cheaper fuel had turned the government's head away from supervising pollutant offenders.