THE THREE LIVES OF CHRISTINA THE ASTONISHING (#22)

As Told by the Holy Woman in Her Own Words
A Hundred or So Years after the End of the World

The baker drained his cup noisily, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down like a piston rod. He set it down with a bang. “You may be weird but you’re a good worker, Christina. Maybe my helper will come back, maybe he won’t. Why don’t you stay on till we see if he does? You can sleep here. I come in at 5 a.m, so you’ll need to get the ovens going at 4:30. Okay?”

“Okay.”
“And Christina?”
“Yes?”
“From now on, use the potholders.”

The baker must have thought things over that night, because the next morning while he was kneading the yeast dough—the helper had not shown up—he kept stealing glances at my hands. They were now completely healed. He began to question me closely. Had I really come back from the dead? Could I really heal any wound I received? What were my other abilities, again?  He even told me his name, Martin.

(to be continued tomorrow)