– My Jesus, I have to take chances with you. I love you but I have offended you. I am here to fulfill your law. Let me, my God, take the burden of your anger.…
Here is the prayer in French, so that even in English translation this document will serve the Tongue:
– Mon Jésus, il faut que je risque avec vous: je vous aime, mais je vous ai offensé; c’est pour satisfaire à votre justice que je suis ici; déchargez, mon Dieu, sur moi votre colère.…
Sometimes, le P. Chauchetière tells us, she could not finish the prayer, but the tears in her eyes could. This material has a power of its own, doesn’t it? So it wasn’t all work in the library, was it? I think this writing is going to ruin the baskets in O.T.
11
The war between the French and the Iroquois continued. The Indians asked some of their converted brethren at Sault to join them, promising them absolute freedom to practice their religion. When the converts refused the Iroquois kidnaped them and burnt them at the stake. One Christian named Etienne burned so bravely, crying the Gospel as he died, praying for the conversion of his tormentors, that the Indians were greatly impressed. Several of them applied for Baptism, desiring that ceremony which appeared to confer such courage. Since they had no intention of discontinuing their attacks on the French, they were refused.
– They should have got it, Catherine whispered to the blood smears. They should have got it. It doesn’t matter what it’s used for. Harder! Harder! What’s the matter with you, Marie-Thérèse?
– It’s my turn now.
– All right. But while I’m in this position I want to check something. Move your feet wider apart.
– Like this?
– Yes. I thought so. You’ve become a virgin.
12
Catherine Tekakwitha secretly gave up eating on Mondays and Tuesdays. This is of prime interest to you, especially in regard to your bowel complication. I have other vital intelligence for you. Theresa Neuman, a Bavarian peasant girl, refused to take any solid food after April 25, 1923. A little while later she declared that she no longer felt the need to eat. For 33 years, right through the Third Reich and Partition, she lived without food. Mollie Francher, who died in Brooklyn in 1894, received no food for years. Mother Beatrice Mary of Jesus, a Spanish contemporary of Catherine Tekakwitha, fasted for long periods. One of them lasted 51 days. During Lent, if she smelled meat, she went into convulsions. Try and think back. Do you remember Edith ever eating? Do you remember those plastic bags she wore inside her blouse? Do you remember that birthday when she leaned over to blow out the candles and ruined the cake with vomit?
13
Catherine Tekakwitha became seriously sick. Marie-Thérèse told the priests the details of their excess. Le P. Cholenec gently forced Catherine to promise not to perform her penitence so rigorously. This was the second secular promise which she broke. She regained her health slowly, if the word health can be used to describe, her chronically feeble state.
– Father, may I take the Oath of Virginity?
– Virginitate placuit.
– Yes?
– You will be the first Iroquois Virgin.
It was on the day of the Annunciation, March 25, 1679, that Catherine Tekakwitha formally offered her body to the Savior and His Mother. The marriage question was resolved. She made the Fathers very happy with this secular offering. The little church was filled with bright candles. She loved the candles, too. Charity! Charity for us who love the candles only, or the Love which the candles make manifest. In some great eye I believe the candles are perfect currency, just as are all the Andacwandets, the Fuck Cures.
14
Le P. Chauchetière and le P. Cholenec were baffled. Catherine’s body was covered with bleeding wounds. They watched her, they spied at her kneeling before the wooden cross beside the river, they counted the lashes she and her companion exchanged, but they could detect no excessive indulgence. On the third day they became alarmed. She looked like death. “Son visage n’avait plus que la figure d’un mort.” They could no longer attribute her physical decline to her ordinary infirmity. They questioned Marie-Thérèse. The girl confessed. That night the priests came into Catherine Tekakwitha’s cabin. Wrapped tightly in blankets, the Indian girl was sleeping. They tore off the blankets. Catherine was not sleeping. She only pretended. Nobody in the midst of that pain could sleep. With all the skill she had used to weave the belts of wampum, the girl had sewn thousands of thorns into her blanket and mat. Every movement of her body opened up a new source of outside blood. How many nights had she tortured herself like this? She was naked in the firelight, her flesh streaming.
– Don’t move!
– Stop moving!
– I’ll try.
– You moved!
– I’m sorry.
– You moved again!
– It’s the thorns.
– We know it’s the thorns.
– Of course we know it’s the thorns.
– I’ll try.
– Try.
– I’m trying.
– Try to keep still.
– You moved!
– He’s right.
– I didn’t exactly move.
– What did you do?
– I twitched.
– Twitched?
– I didn’t exactly move.
– You twitched?
– Yes.
– Stop twitching!
– I’ll try.
– She’s killing herself.
– I’m trying.
– You’re twitching!
– Where?
– Down there.
– That’s better.
– Look at your thigh!
– What?
– It’s twitching.
– I’m sorry.
– You’re mocking us.
– I promise I’m not.
– Stop!
– The buttock!
– It’s twitching!
– Elbow!
– Wha?
– Twitching.
– Kneecap. Kneecap, KNEECAP.
– Twitching?
– Yes.
–
