The Purple Nun, Part I

It's been just over a year and a half since the Purple Nun passed away. We've still not tired of telling stories about her.

In her day, the Purple Nun was number #1 on the Liberry Rogues Gallery, not because she was a problem patron, which usually she wasn't, but because she was certainly the most colorful and most infamous of all our resident eccentrics.

The Purple Nun was a regular sight in our little Tri-Metro community. Often seen walking alongside the road, or taking public transportation, she was instantly recognizable by her purple nun's wimple which she--forgive me--habitually wore. I have no idea if she'd ever been an honest to goodness nun during her life, but I suspect not. I'm pretty sure she was just a nun of her own devising, though that did not necessarily lessen her devotion to God.

I'd seen the nun around town and wondered what her deal was long before I actually met her. Then she began coming into the library and I was able to get a better look at her. My first impression upon meeting the Purple Nun personally was that she seemed like a nice enough lady and was about as polite as you'd expect a nun to be. She mainly came in to use one of our computers, usually leaving long before her time ran out and always paying for paying for any prints she made. Still, her mode of dress and something about her manner got my imagination working overtime as to the strange possibilities of her life. It wasn't until my co-workers began recounting their own stories of her that I realized my fiction was a lot more mundane than the truth. The nun was also hardly a newcomer to the library.

Mrs. B, my fellow "liberry" assistant gave me the lowdown on the Purple Nun...

Some months or years before I started work there, the Purple Nun came into the library and asked if she could use the internet. However, the Nun had no e-mail account, so Mrs. B loaded up Hotmail and showed the Nun how to sign up for an account. After a long time the Nun came up to the desk and was mildly irritated that Hotmail wouldn't allow her to enter her correct birthday. Mrs. B thought this was strange and went back to investigate but didn't immediately see any problem. There on the screen was a perfectly good-looking birthday in the birthday blank. The Purple Nun then explained that Hotmail was insisting on using the A.D. calendar system while she needed to use B.C. for her birthday. That's right, the purple nun claims to have been born over two thousand years ago.

Somehow Mrs. B convinced the Nun to let the whole birthday thing slide and helped her finish setting up her Hotmail account. She then had to show the Nun how to compose and send e-mail. The Nun seemed very happy about this and began to type away, composing her e-mail. Some time later, she got up to leave, informing Mrs. B that she'd left the e-mail message on the screen. Mrs. B tried to explain to the Nun that you weren't supposed to leave the e-mail you were supposed to send it to someone. Did she, the Nun, have someone to send it to? The Purple Nun assured her that it would be okay. The person meant to find it would find it.

These may have been Mrs. B's first early clues that something was amiss in Purplenunland.

Another clue came when Mrs. B later inspected the computer sign in sheet. The nun's name, as written, was "Mrs. J.C. Lord".

(TO BE CONTINUED)