The Dress

Irene sorted through the mound of donated clothing, humming a little tune. Outside the church window, birds were singing a crescendo in the trees and it was a beautiful day to be alive. She pulled a gold silk dress out of the pile. In the sunlight streaming in the window, it shimmered like honey. Who would give away such a beautiful thing? She was examining the edges of the hem and neckline for wear when the sound of footsteps on the stone floor made her look up.

“Irene. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

It was phrased like a question, even though it wasn’t. “Of course, Ms. Strauss.” Irene draped the dress across an unopened sack of donations and followed her supervisor to a small office, then waited while she fumbled to open the lock, her keys rattling on their large heavy ring.

Once they were inside, Ms. Strauss sat behind a desk and motioned the young woman to a bare wooden chair. “I’ve heard some disturbing news about you,” she said. “It appears that you’ve been seen around town recently with an…incorrigible.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Irene said, trying to play things cool. “I go on missionary work nearly every day. Of course I’m around incorrigibles. They’re the ones that need saving.”

“Don’t be coy with me, miss. It’s said you spend a lot of time with one particular young man; a man with a distinctive blue tattoo on his face. He’s known to be a local gang leader.”

“Uh…yes. I’m trying to save his soul.”

Ms. Strauss jumped to her feet. “You are lying through your teeth!” She came around from behind her desk. “What do I have to do to impress upon you the gravity of the situation? This sort of thing not only makes our mission look bad, but it could shatter your reputation.” She paused a moment and sighed. When she spoke again, it was in a softer tone. “Irene, you’re a good girl. You’ve done wonderful work for the poor and for the sinners of this city. But that doesn’t make you immune to worldly temptations. A clever young man could easily convince you that he wants to hear the Good News, all the while intending to lead you astray.”

Irene bowed her head meekly, but her thoughts were of Vince and the electrifying sensation of his kisses, which made her blood run hot, then cold, then hot again. Maybe he was leading her a little way off the straight and narrow, but she was slowly leading him off his own path of destruction as well. Surely they would meet in the middle somewhere and prove everyone wrong. “I understand,” she told Ms. Strauss.

She went back to the donation table in an attitude of meekness, but with her mind on fire. She would have to be more careful. What should she tell Vince? He’d laugh at her if she confessed to taking an old biddy like Ms. Strauss seriously.

Still lying where she had left it, the silk dress glowed like a new gold coin. Reverently, she picked it up and held it against her body. It might just be a good fit. What would Vince say if he saw her in something like this?

Irene glanced around the room to confirm she was alone, then hastily stuffed the dress into a nondescript bag that she would take home with her later. “Thou shalt not steal,” she whispered to herself. Well, she would just have to hope that she did enough good in the world that Jesus would forgive her a little sin or two.

This was written for The Sunday Whirl. Please see my latest serial set in this post-apocalyptic world: Valley of Ashes.