Follow The Drinking Gourd

I received an invitation from the Mother Superior of the convent I support, The Little Sisters Of Poverty And Pain. It was, I was told, "a matter of some urgency", and an early meeting was requested.

Intrigued, I arranged to meet her at the nunnery. It had been some time since we had last met, and I had always found the woman to be fascinating. After all, she had started out as a pole dancer at Fillmore's in Toronto, and then through a variety of circumstances that would beggar belief, wound up running the convent. That all its nuns were avowed atheists only added to its charm.

We met in her office, and she was accompanied by Sister Athena, the person in charge of the convent's finances. (Sister Athena's former occupation had been as an Executive Vice-President at one of Canada's chartered banks.) Now my curiosity was really piqued.

"Are you aware," Mother Superior asked, of the symbol of the drinking gourd?"

"Of course," I replied. Harriet Tubman. The Big Dipper. The Underground Railway. And of course the song. And I trilled,

Follow the drinking gourd,
Follow the drinking gourd;
For the old man is waiting for to carry you to freedom,
Follow the drinking gourd."

"Well," said Mother Superior, "not exactly Renee Fleming, but passable."

"Passable," chipped in Sister Athena unnecessarily.

"And now that that's out of the way," I continued, "what on earth is this all about?"

"Funding," said Mother Superior. "More precisely, lots more funding."

"I already fund this enterprise. Handsomely. Not to mention keeping the Vatican away from closing you down. Why more?"

Mother Superior said, "I will let Sister Athena explain. She has the financial logistics all worked out."

"I'll bet she has." I leaned back in my chair, and learned the following.

Apparently, the convent was in dire need of expansion. Sister Athena had explored the possibility of obtaining three adjacent properties, albeit at a stiff price. This expansion was necessary owing to a program begun by the Sisters to establish an underground railway similar to Tubman's. The purpose was to give young girls and women a chance to escape from horrific family conditions; to wit, being raped by an uncle or cousin, then being accused of adultery, and then being tortured or killed for the "crime". The program was growing in success, and using the underground railway motif in several countries, complete with hidden directional signals, a slew of females were able to flee from their ghastly situations. In short, the convent was swamped with new arrivals.

I was told the directional signals, but you will not learn them here. I and others in The Trade long ago realized that the Internet was a very leaky thing, and wouldn't think of putting anything really confidential anywhere near it. (Take that, Julian Assange!) Why politicians still -- oh, never mind.

Sister Athena also stated that English teachers fluent in Dari, Pushtun, Arabic and Hindi were critical to the program's success. Since such people didn't actually grow on trees and were expensive, funding was needed in this area as well. Yet, as Sister Athena stressed, these teachers were absolutely necessary in order to effect a smooth transition into North American society.

I was a bit gobstruck. This really was a program both useful and imaginative. But just how much were the Sisters requesting?

"One point two million Canadian," said Mother Superior flatly. "I should hasten to add that the figure includes the purchase of two more Cessnas at the Can Do program. Learning to fly really does up the women's self-esteem no end."

"Now your Ladyship," began Mother Superior --

"Shhh. I'm thinking."

A long silence ensued, and then I thought of a way to make this all happen. In the hands of Irving's friend Rachel, The Wraith software could assume control of another computer. It would be neat if she could waltz into old Karzai's numbered account, transfer the requested amount to the Sisters, and make it appear that the funds had been deposited into his brother's account. That should stir things up a bit in Afghanistan, and a number of Afghan women would benefit.

"All right," I said. "It's a done deal. But no queries into the how of it."

Both nodded with alacrity, and then Mother Superior said, "Come. We'd like to show you something."

I was taken to the convent's inner courtyard, where a number of young girls and women were being instructed in martial arts.

"The instructor is Sister Hera," said Sister Athena. "She has two black belts. Karate and Tae Kwan Do."

I watched for a moment, then gasped. "She's teaching killing blows!"

"Of course she is. These women will have to survive on the outside, and a number of them will no doubt be tracked down. The 'family honour' nonsense. And their opponents will go to the wall. After all, if they don't succeed, and are killed themselves, they are still promised Paradise. The 72 virgins and all."

"Although," said Mother Superior wryly, "one would think that after four or five virgins, all the man would want is a pro."

Well, once a pole dancer, always a pole dancer.