The Conversion

The entire school was in an uproar. Parents were phoning in asking if their child was sick or showed any signs of having been contaminated. Some girls weren’t allowed to go to school that day. The headmaster made a public announcement over the old intercom that only reached a third of the classrooms, and the headmaster never used the intercom. Girls who usually came to class pushing the dress code, today had buttoned one more on their shirts than usual and had let their skirts hang lower, almost out of fear of it touching their innocent thighs. Rosemary Catholic High School for Girls was not the same as it had been even just a mere twenty-four hours ago.

At the start of school on Monday, Jenn Freeman had wreaked havoc on the effortless, systematic functioning of Rosemary with her proclamation. Normally, Rosemary started at 8 PM when girls would walk from their dormitories or drive in with their Escalades and BMWs. Teachers would begin roll immediately at 8:15. Students could select their courses, but in general, most took Science, Math, English, History, Art & Culture, and Religion. There was a one hour break for lunch at 11:30. School ended at 3:30. Detention and any school activities ended at 5. This was a normal day at Rosemary. Today was not a normal day at Rosemary.

When asked to share in Religion 260, Jenn’s second class of the day, about what they had gleaned from their personal prayers, Jenn knew exactly what she wanted to say. She began by stating, “God visited me in my sleep last night. How do I know this?” Jenn paused for dramatic effect. “He told me, that’s how. Anyways, he was telling me that I was a destined to show the world a truth. It would come in the form of a scripture. I didn’t believe it at first, thinking that it was either a hoax or just a dream. But I found the truth while reading last night. I’m a god-loving girl, so I wanted to share this revelation with you all today.” Jenn reached into the recess of her bag and pulled out the book. “It’s called The Michelangelo Code, by Daniel Browning,” she said. “You can find it at Books & Nooks right now”. She continued with what was sure to be her magnum opus. “The book is a story, but the real message is hidden behind it all. I had to read between the betweens of the lines to see it. God is trying to tell us that what we have assumed for thousands of years is false. Mary Magdalene was no saint nor was she pure.” A few gasps emitted from the class. Jenn’s lips curled slightly with satisfaction and anticipation. “What I’m trying to say is that Mary Magdalene was not a virgin”.

“SHIT!” Sarah Fuller, normally very quiet in class, had just screamed a profanity while slapping her desk. Hurried, hushed whispers erupted in the room. Everything from “Oh. My. God. Did you hear her? You think it’s true” to “That lying needy bitch. She just wants attention” was said. Despite the teacher’s best efforts to quell the storm, the damage had been done. All throughout the rest of the day, the only topic being spoken of was what Jenn Freeman had said during religion class. The teachers whispered about it next to the watering hole. Students openly debated it during lunch. After school, Books & Nooks had never seen such a rush by pretty high school girls for a book of fiction. The store ran out within fifteen minutes of school ending. The next shipment arrived on Wednesday, and that stock too was snatched up within the hour.

Jenn had always stood out as different, not better, just different from the rest of her classmates. Her father wasn’t a hedge fund manager and her mother didn’t run a philanthropy network raising money for this or that. Her dad didn’t play golf at a country club and his mom didn’t attend black-tie cocktail parties. Her family was middle of the road, right smack in the middle class. Her dad was an engineer who worked on airplane engines and her mom enjoyed her time running a small bakery. They lived in Ohio, not one of the most glamorous states, unless you were a college football fan maybe. Jenn could never really understand the fascination with the violent sport.

Jenn herself was also different because she was normal, a stark contrast from the boob-jobbed bimbos and bare-legged babes that walked the school. She enjoyed reading books, especially ones about history and religion, as well as fantasy. She liked to wear dresses and tie her hair with a ribbon. She wasn’t the best looking gal in the school, but then again she hadn’t had plastic surgery yet. Brown hair, walnut colored eyes, full healthy cheeks and a smidgen of baby fat left in the chin. B-cup breasts and a size 4 waist and no boyfriend. Religious but also rational. She was just an average kid in a not so average school, where all the girls were at least C-cups, not virgins, and destined for Ivy League schools. She had gotten in on a scholarship.

For the next week, she was confronted by a different group each day. At first it was just random strangers who came up to question her motives. On Wednesday, it was the teachers who were “concerned for her well-being” as they put it. On Thursday, it was the parents who held a roundtable and “invited her to sit in” aka get grilled on a stake. They were trying to shut her up. Today, it was one of her two closest friends, Michaela, who finally had mustered the nerve to confront her. Michaela started talking.

“Jenn, it’s a bunch of baloney.”

“No it’s not. I emailed Daniel Browning and he said that everything was backed by thorough research. He even sent me an excerpt of his research. There were notes and highlights everywhere.”

“It’s a novel for Christ-sakes! Let his name not be spoken in vain.”

“But it makes sense. I’ve been reading up on religion and history ever since I can remember. You know this right? And I did my own research and it makes some sense. If people would just not be so dismissive of contrarian ideas all the time, then people might start to actually see this truth. You are saying the Lord’s name in vain when you don’t believe one of his messengers, me!”

“How can we really believe that you are a messenger of god? You said he visited you in your sleep. What’s he look like then?”

“…Don’t worry about the details! Just listen to the rationale behind the truth.”

“Fine! I’ll give you one chance to convince me, but only because we’re best friends.”

So Jenn Freeman launched into the argument that she had been preparing just for a moment like this. For someone on the fence, who could land in her camp and crusade with her. And just like that, Michaela Ashley Ford was the first believer. And gradually, more people followed. Rosemary Catholic High School for Girls became known, unofficially, as Rosemary Catholic High School for New Believers, because of the new sect of believers that popped up, almost like a secret cult or just a temporary fan club. Maybe it was because Michaela Ashley Ford was the daughter of Tom Ford, the famed actor, and the great-niece of Gerald Ford, the former President, and had a big posse of cute and talented girlfriends. Or maybe it was just because, like Jenn Freeman had said, it was all the work of God, and she was just the messenger.