Escaping

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Escaping Page 2

by Sebastien Acacia


  Once in front of the chair, she recognised Angelica, her mother’s friend, who already reached the limit age.

  “Hello. Uhh... I guess you’ve kept this seat for Sonia, haven’t you?”

  The parishioner’s eyes filled with tears.

  “Sonia won’t come any more, my dear.”

  “Oh, no? The virus?” Matilda was mourning.

  “You can call it the way you want, this crap got her.”

  “Be calm! You can’t curse in the Lord’s house, you know it well,” she answered while looking discreetly at the security cameras in each of the four corners of the worship place.

  “What’s the matter? I’ve never been chosen. And I will never be. In a few months, my dream of having a child would be over.”

  “You’re going to be 41?”

  Matilda sat on the small wooden chair.

  “I don’t understand,” Angelica added. “I’m praying every day, I haven’t missed much natality worship or mass, I’ve always taken part in the community charity and my husband is working hard in the fields to produce enough food for what’s left of our world.”

  “We must maintain our faith. God will know when your time will come. He sees all the effort you’re doing...”

  “It’s easy to say when we’re 20 years old,” she abruptly barged in. “I only have a few months left, a few months... Do you hear me?”

  “What’s happening my dears?” Father Matthew interrupted them, while going past them to reach the altar in order to begin the ceremony.

  Astonished, Angelica didn’t know what to say.

  “Angelica is devastated by the death of her friend Sonia,” Matilda added.

  The man of God got closer and took her hands in his.

  “I’m sorry for your loss. I know how close you were with Sonia. And I know how deeply she wanted to become a mother.”

  “It’s unfair!” She yelled as an answer. “She was dreaming of a child. She was giving everything she had to the Church. God doesn’t care about us at all.”

  Many followers, surprised by the tone of the small discussion, couldn’t resist the urge to listen and even stopped their own talks. One of the two militiamen came closer, but Father Matthew motioned him to remain at his place.

  “I understand your anger. What do you think if I discuss this matter of doubting during my sermon?” He offered her, doing his best to hide his concern from all the faces staring at him.

  Angelica felt a comforting hand lying on her forearm. Instead of speaking and risking to make everything worst, this was the only behaviour Matilda could express. They looked at each other for a second. Finally, Angelica nodded toward the abbot. He applied his hand on the top of her head as a sign of gratitude then carried on toward the altar, while the militiaman quietly took back his position. For their part, the followers resumed quietly their weekly gossiping. Matilda, relieved, started again thinking about her dearest dream - belonging to Inosanto’s order, honour reserved to the women giving birth to identical twins. A very rare event. To gain the status of spiritual guardian of the Church was bringing important life privileges but mainly it was the assurance her children would get a bright future, be able to study engineering and to get a high rank in the Church hierarchy. It was the promise of a better life, devoted to the Church, devoted to Inosanto, her icon.

  The worship was always beginning in the same way. A huge screen covering the wall behind the altar was showing a message of Inosanto himself nurturing the deepest devotion in the women in age to procreate. The reward would be God granting them the gift of reproduction and to perpetuate the future of humankind on our magnificent planet. Inosanto appeared dressed in a white Roman toga with a few golden embroideries which was partially covering his chest. He was pretending to exhibit the stigmata he consented in to save mankind from their destructive fury. According to the rumours, he had already reached the exceptional age of 170 years old and Matilda was deeply believing this. Indeed, he had difficulty to articulate, probably because of the pain and also because of his advanced age.

  According to the myth, Inosanto was living as a hermit in a small church he had built himself in Northern Brazil. He spent several decades praying for the complete end of the ravages caused by humankind. One day, an angel came to him with a divine message heralding the beginning of the apocalypse. However, as opposed to the resurrection paintings conveying wars, the hell fires and the worst conceivable atrocities, it would just be a complete interruption of procreation. God granted the gift of life and he was taking it back to punish humankind for their destructive fury. To save nature, its divine creation, he would interrupt the human rise on Earth. But, because there is always a “but,” Inosanto offered him to sacrifice himself for humankind to redeem the sins, such as the Christ did when choosing the cross and giving his life. Inosanto was ready to merge with the Christ and to live eternally in order to help humankind saving themselves. God approved but only if Inosanto could prove he was worthy of such a sacrifice. No man could get such a privilege without giving anything back. He would receive the gift of eternal life but also the stigmata the Christ had consented on. His skin would be forever covered with horrible wounds and he wouldn’t know relief any more. Inosanto accepted in a blink. His body instantly rejuvenated and get covered with burns looking like blisters and pimples and some deep cuts. The story said he collapsed on the front of his small church and laid there for more than a week before gathering enough strength to stand again. He spent years dominating the pain, healing himself with plants growing in the tropical forest. A few tribes, who were still avoiding modernity, helped him. With them, he founded the first ecclesiastic community of the new Terra Fecundis Church. It took him 10 years to be able to withstand the atrocious suffering he had consented on and to undertake his messianic scheme. Then, he performed the great miracle which ended the Godless Decade. It was the beginning of a great pilgrimage during which Inosanto performed birth miracle everywhere around the world, bringing back hope to the populations who converted one after the other.

  Matilda knew every single detail of this story and, despite Inosanto’s repulsive appearance, her heart was fully dedicated to him, to such a point she was praying God every day to get twins so she could get close to him. In fact, like most of the women of the parish she spoke about it with, she was fantasising by hiding Inosanto’s half-swollen face on the pictures shown everywhere, in her home or in the church. In this way, she could imagine him as he was before his sacrifice and she was thinking he was a handsome man.

  At the end of Inosanto’s speech, Father Matthew was taking over under lighting wisely arranged to highlight him. Everyone liked the natality worship as it usually was a cheerful and beautiful moment. Normally, Father Matthew would start the worship by vocals with an orchestra composed of the best musicians in Kalia. But the plague had come.

  “My dear friends, most of you know about the tragic plague which has affected our community. Anatole, the leader of our parish orchestra and three of the musicians passed away, and also one hundred forty of our loved ones. Many of our parishioners couldn’t come today because they’re taking care of their loved ones. Some of them are still fighting the disease. However, in these tragic times, our faith in Inosanto and in God is even more needed. May he grant us an exceptional fertility which will allow our community to consider the future peacefully. Just before starting, many of you were informing me you had to go back to your household to take care of the sick ones. Therefore, this worship will be shortened to the essential things. However, I’m deeply thankful to all the women who have been able to come despite this difficult time.”

  Father Matthew opened the book lying in front of him on his pulpit on which “Bible of the Three Testaments” was written in golden letters on a red background. This book, established by Inosanto himself, had the Old and the New Testament and a third more recent text called “The Last Testament.” Most of its content was dedicated to the modern time, from 1900 to 2141 and was about the ecological disaster
and supreme sin of humankind, sometimes individualism and sometimes consumerism, in relation with some of the evil moral values which led to the Godless Decade. Father Matthew opened the book to a page mentioning the issue of doubt.

  “I understand some of you’re doubting. It’s not easy to witness some friends, sometimes much younger than you, be chosen by God to give life. You’re wondering, why them? Why not me? To answer this question, let’s study, if you agree, chapter 22 of Inosanto’s Gospel.”

  Most of the four hundred followers attending today owned the bible of the three testaments and spontaneously opened it to the indicated chapter. Father Matthew started a calm and steady reading, with his arms wide open toward his audience, looking at the bas-relief representing the Church logo on the ceiling.

  “... and the Almighty declared, only the purest women will be granted with the supreme honour of giving birth to the son of man, heir of Inosanto’s world, because as I’m telling you, no linage is nobler than the one chosen by God himself. Concerning the ones mourning, expect neither mercy nor the consideration of the person who wisely saved humankind from their own madness. Rather admire the women bearing life, help them, get inspiration from them because they’re carrying the children of all, they’re carrying our burden.”

  Father Matthew kept silent for a wild and nobody dared disturbing it.

  “Don’t be mistaken, my dear parishioners. The lesson of this text is simple. When one of you is chosen to become a mother, in fact all of you’re becoming mothers. The future child is a collective responsibility. One day, you may have to take care of them. Inosanto is telling us we’re universal and inseparable.” He added with affection, “You, Angelica, didn’t you feel an intense joy, a real exaltation, when Emily, with whom you’re sharing so many things, told you she was pregnant and gave birth to the small Charlie?”

  Angelica humbly nodded in sign of agreement.

  “This is what I’m telling you about, we’re a united community and our happiness comes from our friends, our loved ones and our families’ joy. Don’t be afraid to love their children as if they were your own. Don’t be afraid to be happy through them. God, the Almighty, is listening. Don’t doubt, he is looking at you, he is seeing you every day when you’re mourning, when you’re doubting about him. Doubt is at the origin of apprehension, concern and fear. Doubt prevents from praying and interrupts the communion with the Almighty.”

  Just thinking of this, Matilda felt a strange anxiety invading her.

  Doubting? Never! I know you’re hearing my thoughts, I will never doubt about you. I’m ready to be a mother, I’m ready!

  “Let’s pray,” added Father Matthew.

  All the parishioners stood in a single move then, with their hand lying on their womb, they chanted in unison the natality prayer.

  God, the Almighty,

  We entrust you with the world,

  We entrust you with our body,

  We entrust you with the future of humankind,

  We serve to honour Inosanto’s ultimate sacrifice,

  Without which no son of God could step on this sacred world.

  Our Lord, hear our prayers,

  Grant our wish,

  Listen to us, the one treasuring you the most.

  Grant us the gift of giving life.

  Amen.

  Father Matthew discreetly gestured to the parishioners to sit down.

  “My dear friends, this is now time for the communion.”

  He signalled the militiaman on this right. The militiaman got closer and laid a small electronics chalice with a perfect square shape on the central pulpit. Matilda stepped out as fast as possible to get the first place in the line. She couldn’t handle having a bad position. Today, there were a little more than 400 people, but normally there were twice as much. And also, out of superstition, she was thinking that by being one of the first ones to get the wafer, she would get a better chance to be chosen by the Almighty. She knew Paul would be the happiest man on earth if she could give birth. He was working hard and she knew it. She was admiring his courage and his uprightness. This time, for the first time in her life, she was the first one and she felt her enthusiasm was misplaced as many of her fellow believers had or would bury their dead. Father Matthew opened the casket in front of him, took a wafer out and laid in the palms of the hand she was devotedly stretching toward him. She put down her head to thank him then step on the side to make way, and mainly to carefully lay on her tongue the small piece of tasteless white bread. She could feel it melting slowly in her mouth, while she was reciting one more time the natality prayer in her mind. She was looking for Angelica. It was just her turn to get the wafer. Matilda came closer and whispered.

  “Pray while letting it melt in your mouth. Show your patience, show your trust.”

  Angelica did so without answering. She laid her hands on her womb, closed her eyes and remained silent for a few seconds. When she reopened her eyes, an anxiety tear rolled on her cheek. Matilda took her hand.

  “Come on, come with me to the fields, it’s on your way.”

  “All right,” she answered in a muffle voice because of the emotion.”

  To fight the sadness of her friend, Matilda had nothing else than her youth’s fire and her unwavering confidence in God.

  Matilda promptly launched her long board on the road before jumping on it with both feet. Angelica was laboriously following her on her bicycle. They went toward the rice fields in the south.

  “Do you feel like sharing a meal with my mother, Paul and me?” Matilda asked while moving on.

  “That’s nice of you, but I don’t feel like it.”

  “Come on, accept it! I’ll introduce you to Tao. You still haven’t seen him. Have you?”

  “Tao?”

  “My small puppy, he is so cute, a small ball of black and white fur with a white right eye. Paul offered him to me last week. I was so sick that he moved heaven and earth to comfort me. And you would never guess, he’s a pure Border Collie.”

  “A pure breed? I’m hallucinating! How did he manage to get him?”

  “He requested an administrative authorisation to go to Lagos.”

  “And he got it, just by asking?”

  “Because of the plague, the Church was less difficult concerning long trips so people could get some medicines or visit their relatives. And Paul’s mother is living in the small community of Kondu, north of Lagos. He seized this opportunity to go to the breed in Makoko neighbourhood. One of his cousins is working there.”

  “It must have cost him several months of harvest, mustn’t it?”

  “His cousin had a debt toward him, so he paid it with Tao.”

  “What a chance!” Angelica declared as she was thinking about what Father Matthew just said, being happy through the happiness of others.

  While they were nonchalantly strolling on the dirt tracks to reach the rice fields, two drones of the Milicia Christi passed thirty feet over their head, unusually fast. The specific hiss of their atomic engines was bringing chill in the spine. Nobody liked to see these devices at such a low altitude. It was never a good omen.

  “One drone, it’s already suspicious! But two... Something serious must be happening,” Matilda exclaimed. “Hurry up! Follow me!”

  She hurried up. Despite the roughness of the track which disturbed her long board and despite the steep slope leading to very dangerous speed, Matilda, half crouched, seemed to be effortlessly flying toward the rice fields. She was born on a skateboard, as her mother often reminded her. Angelica followed her with less fieriness. Far ahead, the drones were already disappearing behind a hill overlooking the rice fields.

  Helena

  Working in the rice fields wasn’t really a pleasant activity. The labour was exhausting. Leaning forward, one elbow on a thigh so the back could rest, while the other arm is used to transplant the rice in the flooded field, wasn’t pleasant. Over the years, rural workers had developed many articular problems, which always ended up handicappin
g them a lot. Kali was a small community with fewer than five thousand souls. Tasks were divided by age. The old ones usually took care of receiving the seeds blessed by the Church and supervised their preparation so the younger in prime age could plant them in the different farms. The Church was ensuring the seeds were healthy and was providing different varieties originated from the tropical forests. As all transformations were banned, GMO seeds were strictly forbidden. Then, the seeds were sent to the rural communities according to their local climate. The surroundings of Lake Chad were really suitable for rice and also Kang Kong, a kind of water spinach. On the hills surrounding Kali, where the land had less water, mint, watercress, cauliflower and leeks were cultivated. Each community also produced one type of protein. In Kali, mainly insects were produced, crickets in particular. South of the city, a surprising landscape was drawn by huge birdcages who could reach 1.2 acre and 100 feet high. Millions of raging locusts seemed to spend all their time looking for an exit to reach the wild nature and fly away toward the plantations. The ones who managed to escape still had to flee from the swarm of birds which were hanging around, looking out for easy prays requiring little effort to be chased. These birds attracted numerous buzzards and falcons, all more impressive than the last, which enjoyed the idea of eating a sparrow or two. These big birds were the favourite target of the bird of prey trainers who were selling them in the rural communities to protect their fields from the rodents. The cycle was complete. Nothing is lost, nothing is created, everything is transformed, the interest of one another included. Everything was always controlled by the Church. All new ideas to improve the yield, to cultivate new plants, to breed new insects or animals, had to be approved beforehand by a theological, then by a technical analyse. Church committees were sitting in the administrative apparatus so everything would be centralised. A full city was in charge of managing Inosanto’s global ecclesiastic empire. This city was the former Brasilia, which was renamed Terra Fecundis, in the centre of the sacred lands of South America. Each sacred land had a decentralised centre in charge of justice missions and of maintaining the public order. Finally, engineers’ communities were always used to study possible new improvements concerning agricultural production, energy, communication, transportation and military equipment for the Milicia Christi.

 

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