Previously: “There are many ley lines running throughout the earth creating havoc in some places and in others, people claim to feel miracles happening. 

I guess it’s like the yin yang where we stare at the balancing of things. Fortunately, the universe has provided the Mary ley line, the opposite of the Michael line.  

“The energy of the Mary line, as some of us know, brings on a soft fluffy, feeling.  We will become balanced, I promise you.”

They were supposed to share their own stories of having been votexed into the 16th  century, but it has not really happened yet. There were too many other topics affecting them.

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We finally began sharing, but true to form, I was probably talking too much. But I promised them they could tell their stories. It will eventually happen but first I need to begin it.  “First of all, I will tell you who I was as a monk. Some of you may already have suspected it.” 

Everyone sat forward wondering if they had speculated correctly. ”I was Brother Samuel. I also was worried we’d been abducted and you others were alone in a dark room with just a bed in it. The walls of stone led me to think we were in some dank cellar. As I felt around the room, I thought it odd there were no light switches or wall plugs anywhere in the room.

I saw plenty of nodding in the positive. I swung my hand in a slicing action. “I got a penance the minute I hit the floor.”

A couple of them giggled. Mary Jo said, “We saw Abbot Richard was preoccupied, so we quickly followed the only light bringing us to the chapel area.”

“Yuh,” Somara said, “We felt badly using your dilemma as an opportunity to sneak in without getting caught for being late. But it was a matter of survival.” 

“But we pulled it off, and we were lying prostrate on those uncomfortable rocks when Prior came in.” Cyndy had a victorious grin. 

Caren raised both hands with grin from ear to ear. “He had no clue.”

“Did you notice anything when you were lying there?” I was smirking waiting for the answer and preparing the pronunciation of the important words for the joke I recited over and over in my head.

When you were lying prostate, I mean prostrate, did you feel different?”

Cyndy was the first to start the laughing, creating a regular domino effect. “That's an eyebrow raising question to answer.” She quietly snickered.   “I guess I noticed my lack of breasts and something between my legs that wasn't there before. I wanted to stand and stare at it, in disbelief. But knew that would have to wait.”

Satisfied I said, “I see I wasn’t the only one who was surprised.” We were all laughing by then.

Cyndy tended to be a thinker, so I was curious what her reaction would be. Now I knew. Bhaaa

Somara said she now knew why her husband was needing to adjust himself.

“All men have to do that. And now we know why,” said Evelyn.

“I will never look sideways at my husband again,” said Caren.

“To have that equipment their whole life, umph.” Mary Jo was making a face that we all echoed.

Karin confessed she was wondering how long it would take to adjust to the new body.

Jill laughed with a surrendering gesture and blithely said, “No comment.”

I guess we’d discussed that nearly into the ground. But I still hadn’t gotten to say my joke. “I got confused about the two words prostrate and prostate. Then to busy my mind or Samuel’s mind I played with the concepts, wondering if lying prostrate on those cold stones would bother someone’s prostate.”

“You do love wordplay don’t you, Madeline?” Cyndy knew me well. She’d seen me perform for our substance abuse patients many times.

“Okay, enough of the serious stuff.” There was more laughter. 

“I’m going to tell you who I think you were back then and see if you were wondering the same thing about each other. 

“Cordelia, it was really hard to identify you. What did you do all day?”

My dear friend Cordelia, who I had missed a lot, answered my many questions. “First, I will tell everyone here, that I was Brother Stephen.” There were nods of recognition from several as they snapped fingers, slapped their laps, pointing with that expression of victory. “We knew it.” 

She continued answering my question, which was probably everyone else's query. “Madeline, you’re going to laugh. Remember how you needed me to wash that saucer with the triggering image of the monastery on it?”

“Yes, I certainly do. We’ve all discussed those plates ad nauseam. Right, everyone?”  I looked around for confirmation. There were nods and groans. “So why are you bringing that up again, Cordelia ?”  

“Madeline, my dear friend, I know you’ve never liked wet wood. I’ve watched how you’ve reacted with popsicle sticks or when there was a cooking spoon made of wood in your vicinity.  

I was getting really frustrated. All I wanted to know, and I’m sure the others also, was what she was doing in the 16th century monastery that we never saw her. She didn’t need to keep prolonging the answer. 

I tried to get my point across. “Another unpleasant subject. What in the world are you getting at?  Why you said I’d laugh I have no idea. So far, nothing is one bit funny.”

“Madeline, let me finish. I’m answering your question. You wanted to know what I did all day. I have never minded wet wood, good thing. My job or skill for the community was to…wash all those wooden plates, bowls, mugs, and eating utensils.”

There were audible expressions of surprise, repulsion, and admiration. “Whaaat? You did that? Whoa. How could you? I guess she didn’t have a choice. No, you certainly didn’t have a choice.”

It was difficult to separate the voices. We were all bewildered, but relieved it wasn’t us.