"Reverend mother, do you think Sister Mary is the right one to teach the boys in that class?" Sister Teresa asked.
"If you mean is she qualified, the answer would have to be no. Did you have anyone else in mind?" Reverend mother asked.
"I just thought she is rather young and naive to be teaching sex education, that's all. She's only a novice and not qualified to teach," Sister Teresa added.
"I agree, she has no experience of the outside world at all. She was a foundling and grew up here. I keep meaning to send her out into the world on a mission, perhaps to Africa, but never got around to it. Besides, I'm fond of her, and so are our boys. I was right about them not giving her a hard time over such a difficult subject," she lectured.
She was gazing out of the window, at a rough sea hitting the rocks below the convent school. Staring out of the window, rather than listening to another of Sister Teresa's complaints, seemed preferable.
"What exactly does she teach them? There doesn't seem to be a prospectus for that class," Sister Teresa persisted.
"It's the usual nonsense about birds and bees. I know you're fond of strict organisation, so perhaps you could take the classes for a term," she added, looking the sister coldly in the eye.
"No reverend mother, I am sure she is doing a good job, it's just that some record of progress would be advisable," Sister Teresa suggested.
"All I care about is the boys, and they seem to have calmed down since the class was started last month. We've had no complaints from the village over rowdy behaviour, and they seem to have settled down to their studies. Reports from other teachers are all very encouraging. My father used to say, 'if it aint broke, don't fix it," Mother Teresa quipped.
She ushered the bothersome sister from her office, saying she had work to do. She made a note to ask Sister Mary to provide a summary of class progress, and conveniently forgot about it.
***
Two weeks ago the first class had finished. The boys, eighteen year olds, had giggled and asked awkward questions, as expected. Though on the whole Sister Mary thought the hour went well.
"Young man, I want a word with you," Sister Mary announced. She tried to put a harsh determined tone into her voice, though a soft country lilt masked the attempt.
James stood at her desk waiting patiently after the others had left. He was worried he might be in trouble, by going too far this time. He had a rebellious streak, and tried to behave in Sister Mary's class. Everyone liked her as she was easy going and fair, unlike the others.
They all asked questions, and she was obviously way out of her depth, only able to mumble a generalised reply. She wasn't a member of the teaching staff, therefore only assigned this class because she was the acting matron.
Her duties involved organising the laundry, tending to cuts and bruises, as well as comforting those missing their mothers. Everyone liked her, and some adored her as a surrogate mother. Some of the boys had a crush on her. She probably had a good figure under the black bat cape; as they called it.
"That picture being passed around, show me," she demanded.
There was only a few weeks to end of term, when they would be free of school. He didn't want to spend the time in detention, instead of having fun with his friends. There was no way around it, he had to hand it over. There was also something naughty and compelling about showing her.
"This is rude. Why did you pass it around James?" she asked, again trying to sound cross.
It was just like Sister Mary, to give him a chance to explain, rather than just issuing a punishment.
"I, err, well you see. The diagrams are confusing miss, I mean sister. This is just clearer that's all," he said.
"So why did it have to be passed around furtively?" she asked, trying to catch him out.
He had to think quickly now. "Well, I thought maybe you might be embarrassed, Sister Mary," he said. He was putting on his angelic face, with the most innocent tone he could manage.
"Oh? Do you think this is appropriate in class?" She asked.
Inside he whooped, for she seemed to be buying it.
"We have been discussing sexual organs, Sister, and this is an accurate picture, don't you think?" he asked. His eyes blinked rapidly, wondering if he had typically gone too far.
"Well, I suppose so. I'm not sure this is entirely appropriate. What did the other boys think?" she asked.
James almost smiled, but managed to keep an earnest expression on his face. "They thought it easier to understand Sister. It's clearer than those diagrams, and more real," he suggested, trying to push her into letting him off.
"Well, perhaps. Do you have any more of these things?" she asked.
"Yes Sister," he blurted out. Damn, she had caught him out!
"Well, in that case, bring them to me, and I'll consider whether to use them in the next class," she told him.
Phew! He had gotten away with it. She obviously wouldn't use them, she was being nice about confiscating them. Wait till he told the others he had gotten away with something, yet again.
***
The guys looked spooked, when Sister Mary asked James to give out the pictures, cut from a magazine. Most of them had red faces as the pictures were passed from one to another.
James had seen her with them, thinking she was about to ask if any of the others had such bad pictures concealed in their rooms. Instead she asked him to dish them out to the class. He shrugged his shoulders to the enquiring looks.
"James has pointed out that the diagrams, and flowery examples of the process, were confusing. You will not show these to the younger boys in school, is that clear?" she asked.
"No Sister," was the unanimous reply.
"Good! Well. We can go over last week's subject matter using these examples. As you can see, the pictures display female genitals," she began.
"Sorry to interrupt Sister Mary. Do we have to go over old ground? Could you instead explain what all the bits are?" James asked.
The rest of the class hushed their murmuring, awaiting an expected explosion.
"Well, err, I'm not sure I can," she mumbled.
The reverend Mother had told her the import thing was to keep control of the class, as everything else, the subject itself, wasn't important. This opportunity to teach left her feeling it was her duty to make it work. Her lack of knowledge had now been revealed.
"If you are so clever James, perhaps you could explain it to the class," she said. It was a phrase she heard teachers use to put students in their place, though it didn't work for her.
"OK. I think I know some of it," he smiled at her.
