by Rona Jameson
The sun finishes setting as I move toward the glasshouse and the humidity that meets me there. It’s tropical inside, which is how my delicate friends like it. They thrive in the heat and moisture. I have four watering cans that sit under my small workbench that are already filled and waiting. I grab the first one up and start to water the plants that not only the butterflies rely on, but me as well. I love being able to come out here and collect fresh fruit and vegetables. For now, where fruit is concerned, we only have strawberries, but I hope for maybe an apple or pear tree out in the yard. Or maybe even some small ornamental orange trees in the glasshouse. However, my future isn’t here. I know that with every breath I take. I can’t stay here, not for anything. One day, I’m going to have to leave my glasshouse and my butterflies and the thought is bittersweet.
The town of Port Michael isn’t home and I’m not sure it ever has been. The people are weird and now, with the journals and uniforms, I’m scared of what plans are already in motion. The Reverend knows. He’s in charge and others come to him for advice and guidance. Over the years he’s brainwashed them until they only want to please him.
Tonight, he has gone after Peter Wild. I know this and it doesn’t bother me because the man scares me to death. I’m just not sure whether the Reverend went after him because the man had tried to touch me, or because Wild hadn’t given a hoot about the Reverend’s world. It’s probably the latter.
“Oh well, Tiger Lily,” I mumble. “Wherever I go or whatever happens, I’ll always remember you.” I blow him a kiss and make sure he’s settled on his favorite flower, the purple coneflower. “Good night, my angels.”
Stepping outside, my tank top clings to me from the heat. As I stretch, my attention zeroes in on the side of the house. A man is standing in nothing but his shorts as he uses a hose to spray himself down. I falter, my mind stumbling over my confusion at the tall man standing there undressed and in disarray. The Reverend! My stomach knots into a huge lump and I feel sick. Why would he need to do that? He has a shower off his bedroom. It doesn’t make any sense. Something bad must have happened. On instinct, I step back into the shadow of the glasshouse and keep watching. The last thing I want is for him to know I’ve seen him. My mind wanders while my heart beats its scared rhythm if he’s done something to that Wild man. I hope he has, but what I’m witnessing is so much more than what I expected. Surely, he hasn’t blooded him up enough that he needs washing outside first. Can I imagine the Reverend doing something like that? Yes, I can.
No way am I about to walk through the house now. I’d hoped to be in my room before he arrived home. This isn’t late by any means. As panicked thoughts run through my head, I know I’m going to have to climb onto the roof to get to my bedroom. I’m pretty sure I’ve left my bedroom window open slightly.
The moment the Reverend steps inside the house, keeping the lights off—another unusual behavior for him—I dash across the garden with my heart in my throat. Once I have the cover of the house to protect me, I move around to the side and grab hold of the wooden trellis. It isn’t as though I haven’t done this before, just not for a year or so. It will hold my weight because this is how Rafael gets onto the roof and he’s a lot heavier than me.
Tightening my grip, my fingers ache on the wooden slats. I slowly pull myself up, only just getting my feet into the spaces as I get closer to the roof. My legs tremble, which makes climbing that much more difficult. It takes me longer to reach the roof, but when I do, I take a minute and sit. My hands hurt from where I’ve clenched tightly to the wood, my neck hurts a bit too. I must be tenser than I thought. Feeling sweat running down my spine, I crawl on my hands and knees to my bedroom window, sighing in relief when I find it open. I lift it all the way up and climb inside, knocking the pen holder off my desk with a foot. It crashes to the floor in a scattering of pens and pencils. It’s loud enough that I freeze and wait.
The Reverend obviously decides against checking on me, either that or he’s too lost in thought to have heard. Whatever the reason, it’s welcomed.
Righting everything, I quickly get ready for bed and slip between the sheets. Unfortunately, my mind won’t switch off and all I can think about is what the Reverend had been up to.
MISERABLE!
That’s how I feel today.
It started with the Reverend banging around downstairs as though he was trying to catch a rodent or something. The slam of a cupboard. The sound of the silverware drawer being shoved in and out of the slider. The sound of pots crashing gets me out of bed.
He’s in a right temper as I quickly pull on my uniform and dash into the bathroom. Five minutes later, I’m standing in the kitchen doorway. The table is a mess with spilled cereal from a large bowl that lies on its side, milk drips onto the floor where clumps of soggy cereal lie. I even spot coffee granules floating in the milk.
“Don’t just stand there,” the Reverend snaps, grabbing my arm before yanking me into the room. “Get this mess cleaned up. It’s your fault I’m in a temper.”
He leaves the house.
I stand staring at the mess while my pulse pounds in my ears. What did he do last night? I bet this morning’s antics have everything to do with it.
I need to talk to Rafael, and I can’t believe I’m even thinking this, but I want to check on Wild. Something isn’t right and it’s going to play on my mind until I know what is going on.
Hurrying to clean the mess up, I glance at the old white clock on the wall. I have twenty minutes before school starts. I run out the front door with a couple of apples and a banana in my hand, which I shove into my book bag.
As I enter the school there is an eerie silence in the air. I can’t wait to get away from this place. Other students stare at me like I’ve done something wrong, and they give me a wide berth. It’s something I’ve grown used to, but it feels different. The glances aren’t friendly but accusatory. What I’ve done to deserve today’s torture, I don’t know. It isn’t nice and it makes me jittery on the inside. On the outside, I make sure I look indifferent.
I walk to my locker and see Rafael standing close to it with three girls talking animatedly to him. He smiles and nods at them. My heart cracks at the sight and tears hover on my lashes. One of the girls takes his arm and glances over and smirks. I duck my head because I refuse to let anyone see how much Rafael’s inattention bothers me. It’s difficult to breathe as I open my locker. I blink back the tears. I won’t cry. I won’t.
Then I feel his presence next to me and know I have to ignore him. It hurts. I want to openly be with him, but I can’t. I can’t even be seen talking to him.
“Meet me around back at break,” Rafael whispers as he moves past me slowly. I give him a sidelong glance and notice his fan club has left.
“No,” I hiss, keeping my head averted. I’m not sure why I’m acting like this with him when I want to spend time with him. I want to spend all my time with him—to show him my butterflies and my favorite places. I want to confide in him about last night.
I feel him tense and turn his head. I even know when his gaze turns into a frown, and the way there is hesitation in his body before he moves to class. I swallow around the lump in my throat and try to forget about yesterday in Rafael’s bedroom. That had been real. I know it.
Slamming my locker closed, I groan. I’ve just experienced jealousy. I’m jealous of the open friendship he can have with others. I only need to be near him, and the Reverend will know. Someone in the school will tell him—they all believe in his word.
“Miss Jacobs.” I still at the sound of the principal’s deep rumbling voice directly behind me. “Why are you at your locker instead of in class?”
I gulp and turn to face him. “I felt a bit dizzy, but I’m fine now.” He stares into my eyes, daring me to say more. I don’t think I can, even if I want to. My mouth is dry, and I feel like a panic attack is imminent.
“Tardiness will be written in your journal. Get to class.”
On edge, I scuttle awa
y and feel Principal Dobson’s eyes on my back before I disappear into the classroom. I’m then faced with all eyes on me from other pupils and Mr. Bradshaw. I catch Rafael’s gaze and he indicates for me to move with his eyes. His jaw pulses with anger as his eyes stay focused on the teacher.
I hate this. It is me against them. Or maybe it is Rafael and me against them. I don’t know anymore. This new regime is wrong. Even though I know of nothing outside of Port Michael, I know the way we are treated is wrong. School shouldn’t be so strict with rules not to be broken. Journals are not meant to be filled with reasons to be punished, or reasons to be praised. I don’t understand why things have suddenly changed, not that they had been any better before. At least we didn’t have to write everything down. The others seem too accepting, as if they knew this was about to happen. Nothing makes sense.
Once I’ve taken my seat, I keep glancing at Rafael from the corner of my eye. He watches me too. The sidelong glances from him make me feel funny inside. His eyes are deep as he watches me, the black darkening to orbs with flecks of gold. Mr. Bradshaw suddenly appears between us, cutting off our view of each other. His face is red with anger as he holds his hand out toward me. I glance up at him and back to his hand, not knowing what he wants. Rafael shakes his journal behind Mr. Bradshaw, which I luckily catch sight of. I shuffle through my little belongings and, grabbing the journal, hold it up. Mr. Bradshaw snatches it from me. “I will write in this.” He turns to Rafael and takes his. “And this, while you get on with the instructions on the whiteboard.
He abruptly turns and moves to his desk at the front of the classroom and drops into the seat. My eyes narrow as he opens my journal and rapidly writes inside it. My heart sinks because whatever he writes, I know the Reverend won’t be happy about it.
I pass a quick glance at Rafael before putting my head down and writing the essay as instructed. I find it more difficult than normal to concentrate. My mind is on the journal in Mr. Bradshaw’s greedy hands. He never glances up, just scribbles angrily before he switches to Rafael’s book.
All through class I feel eyes on me and know it is Rafael. He wills me to look in his direction, but I refuse. I’m hurt that he can’t acknowledge me properly after what transpired between us in his bedroom. I know we have to stay apart in public, but I don’t have to like it, and he certainly didn’t have to consort with the enemy!
“Class,” Mr. Bradshaw snaps, followed by the slamming of journals on his desk. “After break you have a free period, which is to take place in the library.” His eyes land on each and every one of us before he says, “Dismissed.” He gives Rafael his journal back and watches the class leave. I’m all fingers and thumbs as I try to put everything away. His brows draw into an angry frown as he focuses on me and indicates with his finger that I am to stand in front of his desk.
I swallow hard and my palms feel clammy as I approach. My book bag is clutched tightly in my arms while I wait for him to speak. All he does is glare at me and smirks when he knows he’s gotten to me. I want to scream and hit the asshole. I do nothing.
“The Reverend needs to see your journal this evening.” He holds it out and when I grab it, he won’t let go. “He won’t be happy, Wren.”
I snatch the book from his hands and dash out of the classroom and right into Rafael. He grabs my arm and pulls me out the back of the school and into a quiet spot—the same one as the other day.
“You refused to meet me, so I had no choice,” he grumbles, and paces back and forth. “We need to stick together, Wren.”
“That’s what I thought too.” I narrow my gaze so that he is aware I’m unhappy. “You were the one smiling and flirting with them.”
Rafael comes to a sudden stop, and I watch as his mouth slowly splits into a grin. “You’re jealous? Again.” He smirks, and before I know it, he is directly in my face, mere inches separating us. “I only see you, Wren.” His eyes land on my mouth, so I stick the tip of my tongue out and rub it along my lips. Rafael catches his breath, but he stays focused on what I tease him with. My body comes to life as I breathe in his scent. My breasts lightly touch his chest with each deep breath I take. Our eyes finally find each other’s, and all sound disappears, replaced by a pounding in my ears as blood rushes through my head. My eyes stray to his mouth and I desperately want him to kiss me. He wants it too.
His hands land on my waist, warm and secure, and I feel that slight tug as our bodies become flush. I briefly rub against him and feel how hard and solid he really is. A moan slips from between my lips as I allow my eyes to fall closed and for my body to just feel. I want to feel Rafael against me in this way. I want to learn everything about this boy that makes me smile. I wiggle my hips to Rafael’s surprise, and reaching up, I wrap my arms around his neck. I nuzzle against his warm skin and sigh.
Rafael is surprised at my spontaneous hug but, seconds later, he has his face buried in my neck and me wrapped tightly in his arms.
“We need to talk, Wren. I’ll come to you later.” He kisses the curve of my neck and leaves his lips there, softly brushing over my skin.
In that moment, I’m happy.
Truly happy.
MY HAPPINESS DOESN’T LAST ONCE I get home. The Reverend is waiting for me, his face barley able to contain the fury I see there. He sits at the wooden table in the kitchen and indicates for me to move closer to him.
I drop my book bag to the floor and do as he says even though I’m terrified of him right now. He looks evil, as though the slightest movement will cause him to snap and he’d be on me. My eyes nervously go to the leather belt in the middle of the table as I tremble and wait, my mouth dry.
He stands slowly and moves closer, his breath hitting me in the face. I try not to gag at the sour smell. “You didn’t listen to me,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “You are friends with the boy next door when I told you to stay away from him.” He puts his face to the side of mine. “Has he touched you, daughter?”
I swallow hard, and answer, “No, sir. No one has.”
“I don’t believe you,” he snarls. “Maybe I should let one of my men fuck you to see if you’re stretched, huh? Something tells me you wouldn’t like that?” He grabs the belt from the table and whips it across the old surface. “Maybe if I tan your bare ass, you’ll finally listen to me.”
Before I have time to think, his hands are on me and I’m face down on the hard surface. “No,” I gasp, the tears no longer staying in my eyes. “Please! I promise he hasn’t touched me. I’m still a virgin.”
He growls and lifts the back of my dress up over my bottom. “Virgin, you are not! Because of your stupid antics, you popped your own fucking cherry! I can’t sell you as a virgin, Wren. You’re not worth much to me anymore. I only keep you around because—” He stops himself.
I pray to God he doesn’t carry out this punishment. He’s losing his head and I’m scared and want Rafael. I want to run away with him.
My skirt gets yanked down and I’m lifted from the table and shoved toward the stairs. “Go to your room and stay there until morning,” he says through his anger. “If I hear one word, Wren—one word—that you’ve been anywhere near that boy,” he spits, “I will continue exactly where we left off.”
He turns and stalks to his office, slamming the door so hard the house shudders.
I can barely move as fear races through my blood.
What is going on with him?
My eyes focus on the table before I turn and head upstairs and wait for Rafael to come to me.
29
RAFAEL
I WATCH the lights go out downstairs at Wren’s house and continue watching until a faint glow appears in her bedroom moments later. My view is clear from where I lounge on the back porch of my house.
The Reverend is still inside. Probably in his office on the other side of the house plotting what is to happen next in his grand plan. I should go with my dad to find out what was going on last night, but I can’t bring myself to leave Wren. I need to go a
nd spend time with her. The ache I have in my chest hurts being so close yet so far.
My father comes outside, a beer in his hand as his gaze wanders over to the house across the way. “You’re going to tell her,” he states. “It’s been written all over your face since the moment you met her.”
“She’s innocent in all of this.” I sit forward and place my elbows on my knees, getting tired of repeating myself to him. “I don’t want her to get caught up in whatever happens. We have to keep her safe.” I glance again at the beer and he catches me.
“I’m not going anywhere. There’s a car hidden on the road, watching the front of our house.” He shrugs as though it’s no big deal. “Jeremiah and Ken are going to check out the schoolhouse.” He slugs the beer back. He focuses back on Wren’s house. “I still think the only way to keep her safe is to stay silent. If she’s clueless, then she won’t be curious. If she isn’t curious, then she won’t risk getting caught snooping.”
Moving forward, I pace along the porch full of energy. “I love her. I don’t want any lies between us.” I stand in front of him, holding his gaze. “I trust her.”
Dad blinks sharply and a slow smile spreads across his face. “Then tell her.” He hugs me close and goes back inside the house.
An urgency to get to Wren overwhelms me, but I pause as I jump from the porch. Movement to the side of Wren’s house draws my gaze. I recognize the figure—the Reverend. He gets in his car and drives away in the opposite direction of the church. At least the coast is clear for me to go to Wren. I quickly pull my phone from my back pocket and message Dad that the Reverend has left and which way he headed. The last thing I want is for him to stumble upon Dad’s friends moving around the old schoolhouse. Dad acknowledges my message, and I shove my phone away.
I can now focus on Wren. Her smile always makes my heart feel much lighter, and just the presence of her is enough to get rid of the darkness inside of me. She lights me from within and my first instinct is to take her back to the city so no one can find her. It’s only a dream because they’d find her in the end. The Reverend would make sure of that.