Finding the Stanton family estate was not difficult. The family was well known in the community, and their house was by far the grandest and most luxurious of all the homes in town. I arrived sweating and panting, my inner loins screaming for a cool breeze. I rested for only a moment to read the historical sign jutting out beside the road.

Stanton Manor Circa 1830

Built during the height of the Antebellum Era, this home has survived many hurricanes, epidemics, and the onslaught of the Civil War. The Stanton family has continued to claim ownership of the property since its construction. The Plantation is a proud mix of the Greek Revival and Neoclassical styles. Private.

"Private!" I read aloud. "Ooo just wait till Hurricane Mary gets inside. Lord, it's hot!" Sweat dripped off my brow and evaporated before it could reach the pavement. Even though it was the fall it felt like summer. "God, this must be a test. Some circle of hell I'm meant to endure. And for what? An umbrella! I really am insane."

My gaze turned to the path before me. From the road I could see the home's glamorous white walls glowing through the old oak trees and Spanish moss. A curved gravel driveway led the way through the encompassing garden up to the front steps. It was two stories tall with large columns supporting the balcony and roof. A round cistern hugged the north wall, and an overseer's house and kitchen dotted the southern corner of the property. I noticed the red convertible in the driveway. My spirits lifted knowing I was at the right place. Now the trouble lay with how to get inside the fortified estate.

A six foot iron fence encircled the grounds. Little five foot me stood little chance of getting over it, so I weighed my other options. I tried shaking the front gates. Obviously, they were locked. I tried squeezing through the iron bars. Pathetic. I was too fat. I even resorted to grabbing a stick and digging underneath the fence. I gave up after a worm flung itself from the soil and into my eye.

"Ugh," I moaned, throwing the stick to the ground. "Guess I got to climb this darn thing." I rolled up my sleeves, positioned my feet, and began my ascent. I'm sure I looked ridiculous, a sweaty nun huffing and puffing with her feeble strength and chubby little toes curling out of her shoes. I liked to imagine I was being hoisted up by cherubs, their little feathered wings and plump faces straining to lift my fat arse. Oh the strain! Oh the back wrenching pain! I imagined their strength was not enough so they summoned the whole populace of heaven and even then I was still too fat to move. God would shake his head in dismay, and with a flick of his almighty wrist send me soaring over the fence through the arms of angels and hopefully into the tender embrace of bushes and shrubs. Whatever it was that was driving me up that fence be it divine intervention or my divine imagination, I soon found myself at the top, out of breath and exuberantly overjoyed. With my face red with hard work I could do nothing else but scream out across the lawn.

"Take that gravity! No walls can keep out Sister Mary!" But like with most excitable instances, it was short lived. For no sooner had I found myself out of one bind did I find myself in another. I was stuck straddling the fence. My blubbery stomach had jammed itself between the two top spikes. I teetered back and forth but it only made me sink lower and tighter. My legs and arms hung suspended in the air flapping occasionally hoping to suddenly free myself from my vertical prison.

"Oh lord," I said regrettably. "What have I done?" I wiggled my fat rump up and down one last time. Nothing. "Oh lord," I repeated, "what have I done?"

It had only been a few minutes, but it was enough time for me to ponder my life choices. This was certainly not one of my best and brightest moments. What else could I do but struggle and pray? Maybe the fence would give or I should wait until my waist shrunk from starvation. I did need to lose weight after all. Perhaps this was my wake up call. I thought of crying for help, but that would just bring attention to myself, unwarranted attention. Nuns should not be found stuck on six foot fences. No one should for that matter.

Before I could ponder another second of my life, I heard laughter and the sound of a bike rolling up behind me. I twisted my head around to see a fit young man hop off his bicycle.

"My goodness, what a sight is this?" he acclaimed biting his lip while fighting back laughter. "A nun on a fence. I never would have imagined such a thing when I awoke this morning." He plopped his bike against the fence and looked up. "You ok up there? Need some help, sister nun?"

"No, don't mind me," I said, trying not to look conspicuous. "Just a delirious woman thinking she could fly."

"A flying nun!" said the man. "That's preposterous!"

"Well Sister Bertrille once said, 'When lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag, anything can fly.' When I heard that, I had to try."

"I see." The young man placed his hands in his pockets. "Ok, all jokes aside. Why are you really up there?"

"Nothing important. I thought I saw a rare Warbler-Finch fly into that tree. Guess I was mistaken."

The young man face-palmed. "Warbler-Finches live in the Galapagos, ma'am. I doubt you saw one here."

"What a pity then," I said, realizing this man was more educated than I gave him credit for. "Damn deceitful, vulture!" I shook an angry fist in the air then turned back down to the young man. He was giving me a rather unamused gaze. "So am I gonna keep cracking jokes up here or are you done gawking up my skirt and wish to help me out? It does appear I got myself hung up on these spikes."

The man leaned against the fence and smirked. "You know this is my family's land and my family's fence. If you were anyone else it would give me great pleasure to leave you up there, call the police and have you arrested for trespassing."

"But seeing that you are not, will you help me out?"

"An explanation first."

"Oh come on! I'm a goddamn nun for Christ's sake! A woman in distress! What possible reason would you have to distrust me."

"Well for one. Nuns don't climb fences and second, nun's don't curse."

"Then you don't know many nuns, boy. You should hear them when the doors shut and the church music stops. Besides, we nuns must have one foot in sin at all times. Otherwise we are either dead and with God or in some dull, senseless purgatory. Now think. What would Jesus do?"

"Fine. Give me a moment." The young man gave up. "I'll help you down." He stood under me and placed his hand on my bum.

"Oh good lord!" I cried out in excited alarm. His hand pressed harder on my butt. I started sweating again.

"I'm going to need you to lean back as far as you can and suck in. Don't worry, I'll catch you."

"You sure?" I asked, looking over my shoulder. "You underestimate my weight, good sir!"

"Just don't kick me in the face." The young man anchored his feet. "I'm ready when you are."

I'm sure it was an unexpected and quite an uncanny surprise to see my decorated knickers, but let's be honest, I kinda wanted the young man to see. I'm such a naughty nun when it comes to a handsome face. He was strong and considerate, not making a peep or showing a snicker of disgust. He instead slowly lowered me to the ground, not letting go until my feet touched the soft grass. I let out an excited yelp and pretended to go weak in the knees just to get this handsome devil to ravish my senses again with his forbidden touch.

"Bless you, child," I said tenderly, swooning in his arms; my hand grazing his thick chest. "Bless you, bless you."

"Nothing to it, sister," said the young man helping me to my feet once more. "The name is Michael. Michael Stanton."

"Sister Mary, though my friends call me Merry Sister Mary."

"I can see why. You are certainly not the nun I'm used to seeing. Don't get me wrong, it's quite refreshing."

"No need for flattery, Mr. Stanton—"

"Michael, please. Mr. Stanton was my father."

"Michael it is then. You don't suppose you can—"

"Erhm." Michael cleared his throat. "I do believe now that I have helped you down, I deserve a proper explanation as to why you were up on my family's fence."

"Ah, you see." I knew lying would not get me any closer to where I needed to be so I decided to tell Michael the truth about my umbrella of mistaken identity, the woman in the red convertible, even to why I was on the bus to begin with. He nodded patiently until I finished.

"Hmm," he said. "As preposterous as this all sounds, I somewhat believe you. But why climb a fence? We could have easily met you at the gate."

"I guess." I paused in thought. "I guess I didn't think it through. I was impatient and worried. I have a problem."

"Don't worry about it." Michael smiled. "You were lucky I happened your way. Not many people come to this side of the estate. If I had not decided to take a bike ride away from my crazy family, you might have been up there all night."

"Oh thank God!" I made the sign of the cross.

"Where are you staying tonight?"

"I don't know." I looked at my feet. "I honestly don't know." I told Michael what happened with the boat and my luggage. He patted my back.

"Well, since you have nowhere to stay, why don't you stay here for a night to sort things out. I'm sure we have a spare room. We are a Catholic household after all. My family can treat you to dinner. Tonight we are celebrating a special occasion and there will be more than enough food." My stomach rumbled at the mention of a warm meal.

"That is the best news I have heard all day."

"Well let's hop to it!" Michael grabbed his bike. "Lollipop?" Michael produced one from his vest pocket and offered it to me.

"You just carry those around?"

"I've got quite the sweet tooth." Michael smiled. I took it willingly and plopped it into my mouth. The two of us then set off side by side back to the entrance.

"So is there anything else I should know about the infamous Merry Sister Mary?" asked Michael as he too brought a sucker to his mouth.

"Just one thing," I said while leaning my head on his shoulder and grabbing his strong arm. "I'm single."