Cognati: An Inferno World Novel

by Elizabeth Gray

  Sin.

  Sinful thoughts and desires.

  I’ve read all about it in the Bible. I know what’s wrong. Pa is right, though I questioned him about it, which was my mistake. I belong down here. The things happening to my body are meant for my future wife and Pa made sure to remind me of that by forcing me down here. I’m not ready for these things to happen to my body yet. Not to mention, I could have exposed Karen and she’s certainly not ready. Had Karen seen the state of my body, it could have upset her. I’m lucky it was only Pa who witnessed the sin tenting my sheets this morning.

  Still, I can’t control the urge to touch my penis. Is it really so bad? My breathing comes out choppy as I rub at myself in an attempt to get it to settle down. In reality, it only makes the thing misbehave more.

  It’s soft when I relieve myself. When it’s resting in the palm of my hand. Perhaps…I quickly unbuckle my pants and pull it from my underwear. The skin is hot. A bead of liquid dots the slit at the crown. Curious, I brush my thumb over the wetness.

  Terrible idea, Kristopher.

  A whimper tumbles past my lips. My hand circles around my thickness and I tug. Just to see if that helps.

  It doesn’t.

  It doesn’t.

  It doesn’t.

  I let out a strangled, confused cry. Why does it feel so good? Why now after all these years is my body betraying me? Perhaps I’ll try and convince Pa it’s because I’m ready to be a husband.

  My thoughts drift to Maude in a white dress at the front of the church. Then, her belly swelling with a child. And her naked.

  Forgive me.

  What would I do with her naked body? Pa hasn’t explained these things. All I know is a man and a woman need each other to procreate.

  The moans.

  Fluttery and light.

  Needy.

  The ones that come from Pa’s room late at night. Once, I saw when I went upstairs to make sure everyone was okay. No one was hurt. Pa was naked and thrusting against his wife.

  Slapping.

  Slapping.

  Slapping.

  Their bodies were slick sounding and he was worked up as he had intercourse with her. I didn’t stick around or stare too hard because I would have been skinned alive had Pa found out, so I don’t know the specifics. But with Maude, we’d figure it out. I’d get naked, pin her with my body, and rub my aching hardness against her. Slide it inside her. Where or how, I’m not sure. I have a vivid imagination.

  Maude’s imagined moans echo inside the white room and I can almost feel her slick body pressed to mine. I can nearly taste the saltiness of her neck. Is it okay to taste your wife? I’d want to put my lips on her skin and suck.

  My breathing grows shallow as my sac tightens. I squeeze my eyes shut, focusing on Maude as I chase the sensation for more. With a groan, I feel…relieved. Satisfied. Like a real man. Heat shoots up my shirt, but it’s okay because Karen is great at removing stains. It splatters me until I’ve drained my body of its sinful desires. The remnants drip from my penis onto my hand that still grips it like a lifeline.

  I peek my eyes open to face the consequences of my actions. The liquid is a paler white than the walls and my shirt, thank goodness, and I hope it’ll dry soon. Quickly, I tuck my softening penis away. I managed to calm it down. Who knew that’s all it would have taken? Had I known it would take a matter of minutes, I would’ve dealt with it before Pa came to wake me.

  My heart continues to race in my chest. I swipe my hand through the wetness, eager to rid myself of the evidence. But I have nothing to clean myself up with.

  Creak.

  The sound above me freezes the blood in my veins. If Pa sees me like this, I’m going to be punished much worse.

  Spare the rod, spoil the child, he always says.

  And the white room is nothing compared to the switches from the tree.

  With a hiss of fear, I suck the salty residue off my fingers and swallow it down. Then, I attempt to dry my hand on my slacks just as the black door opens above me. Cool air falls into the space, instantly cooling my flesh, followed by a curtain of long blond hair.

  The hammering in my heart calms to match that of my twin.

  “Hi, brother,” she chirps as though her peeking her head inside the white room is a normal situation.

  It’s not normal.

  If Pa saw…

  “Karen,” I hiss, scrambling closer to her. “You need to leave.”

  Her blond hair sticks to my sweaty skin as I push past the locks to find her face. Her smiling face. Pale blue eyes glitter with happiness.

  “Pa said to fetch you. We have a visitor.”

  Visitor?

  We never have visitors. Karen and I aren’t allowed to have visitors. At Mass is the only time we’re allowed to see other people, and then we come straight home.

  “What?” I ask in confusion.

  She tugs at my arms, all but dragging me out of the white room. Once I’m in the cool solace of the basement, I squat beside the white room door and push her messy hair from her face so I can see her.

  “You heard me, silly,” she teases in a breathy voice. “A visitor. A young man.” She grins at me. “Do you think Pa found me a husband?”

  Irritation bubbles in my gut. Surely Pa wouldn’t have found her a husband when I haven’t even received lessons on how to be one. We’re the same age, so if she’s to have a husband, I should have a wife.

  My penis twitches in my underwear.

  Maude.

  “Was Maude there?” I ask, excitement in my voice.

  She cocks her head to the side. “Maude? Why would Maude be here?”

  “I’m going to marry her,” I tell her boldly.

  My sister frowns. “Why?”

  “Same reason you’re going to marry the visitor,” I snap, rising to my feet hastily.

  She launches to her own feet and glares at me. “You’re mad. Why?”

  “I’m not angry.”

  “You are,” she argues.

  When it’s just the two of us, we sort of put Pa’s rules on hold to just be us for a few stolen moments. Like now. No one sees the side of Karen I see. The one that likes to taunt and provoke. The one who smiles more like a devil than an angel. She’s my twin and I’m allowed this gift. I’m sure God agrees, otherwise he wouldn’t have put us in the womb together. We’ve loved each other before we took our first breath.

  “What’s on your shirt?” she asks, her fingers brushing along the evidence of what I’d done in the white room.

  My face burns red with shame. “It’s none of your business.” I turn away from her and fly through the buttons angrily. It isn’t until I’ve shed my shirt that I realize what I’ve done. I swivel around in horror to find Karen staring at me in shock.

  “Don’t tell Pa,” I plead, my knees shaking with fear.

  A man never undresses in front of a woman who isn’t his wife.

  A wife never undresses in front of a man who isn’t her husband.

  But does it count that we shared a womb naked?

  “I won’t tell,” she whispers, her eyes skimming over my bare chest. “I’ll put your shirt in the wash and he’ll never know about the bloodstains.”

  Blood.

  Oh.

  Relief floods through me. I grab her shoulders and pull her to me. All is right when I hug my twin. My other half. It feels right to hold her tight against me, nuzzling my nose in her silky hair.

  “Kristopher,” she whispers, her hot breath tickling my chest.

  A bust of heat surges down to my penis, which echoes sinful thoughts back to my brain. I harden and a yelp escapes me as I pull away from her. Her brows furrow in confusion.

  “Karen!” Pa calls out from the top of the stairs. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, sir! I’ll be right up!”

  “One of your shirts is hanging there,” she tells me, pointing. “Don’t keep him waiting.” She stands on her toes and brushes a quick kiss to my cheek before scamperi
ng off.

  I don’t entertain more sinful thoughts or touch myself to try and get the hardness to disappear. No, I busy myself with finding my new shirt. By the time I finish with the buttons, it’s gone away.

  Taking the stairs two at a time, I try not to be unhappy for Karen. She deserves a husband. Maybe he’ll be a good man. One who doesn’t have white rooms or strict rules. Karen is prettiest when she’s smiling and free. Pa dampens her spirit. I know it’s for her own good—or so he says—but sometimes I wonder how she’d be without him breathing down her neck.

  The house smells like pot roast and my stomach grumbles. Usually, when in the white room, I’m fed grits. No butter or salt or pepper. Just grits. Having meat and potatoes and carrots seems like a gift from God.

  A gift I certainly don’t deserve after what happened in the white room.

  I ignore that thought and rush into the living room.

  Anger, hot and furious, bubbles up inside me when I see him. The young man. Her future husband. A little shorter than me, but much taller than her. Black hair. Curious brown eyes. A wide, dimpled smile. He even has a shadow of facial hair that makes me envious.

  She smiles back at him like he’s everything.

  He’s nothing.

  I don’t understand the anger inside me, and certainly a proper husband for my Karen shouldn’t warrant this feeling, but it’s there.

  “Son,” Pa says, turning to regard me. He’s well over six and a half feet and towers over all of us. “Meet Luke. Luke, this is Kristopher.”

  I grit my teeth and try to remember my manners. I’m supposed to extend my hand and greet him. But my hand won’t uncurl from a fist.

  Pa’s eyes fall to my hand and it immediately goes slack. I won’t provoke him. Not with this dirty young man threatening to take my sister from me. She stands in her simple white dress looking too pure for the likes of him. His pants are black and so is his shirt. Dirt is packed under each nail. The fella desperately needs a bath.

  Ignoring my own body odor, I offer him my sinful hand. It gives me a small satisfaction knowing he’ll have to shake the hand I used for my dirty deed.

  The young man’s brown eyes light up. “Kristopher.”

  Karen clears her throat, which earns her a sharp glare from Pa.

  “And this is my beloved daughter Karen.”

  Karen starts to shake his hand, but a firm grip of Pa’s hand on her shoulder keeps her in place. She waves at him, a silly grin on her face. “Hi, Luke.”

  “Luke’s traveled a long way, but you Greenes know that fatigue doesn’t get in the way of work that needs doing.” Pa nods at Luke. “Out back there’s a wood pile. Find some decent logs for us to put on the fire for tonight. It’s colder here than where you’re from. As soon as I can, I’ll get you some proper clothes to borrow from Kristopher.”

  “Yeah,” Luke says as he steps back. “Okay.”

  “Yes, sir.” Pa’s tone is sharp. “It’s how you will respond. You don’t live in a barn now. You aren’t a hillbilly now. You’re mine now, boy.”

  I wince at Pa’s harshly delivered words, but Luke simply smiles. As though he wants to be Pa’s. If it’s true, he’ll be a perfect husband for my sister. Pa loves obedience.

  “Has he come to live with us?” I demand, hating the fire in my words. It’ll only get me sent back to the white room. I can’t afford to be down there with him around. She’ll need my protection.

  “My, uh, mom died,” Luke says sadly. “I’ve come to live with my uncle Charles.”

  Uncle.

  Uncle.

  “You’re my cousin?”

  He nods and I don’t miss Karen’s frown of disappointment. Relief floods through me. Not a husband. Family.

  “Enough with the chitchat,” Pa barks. “Supper will be ready soon. Go on, boy. Do as you’re told.”

  Luke eagerly bounds out the door, letting it slam loudly behind him.

  “I’ll help,” I croak out the moment Pa’s hard stare lands on me. “If that’s okay, sir.”

  His lips press into a firm line. “That’s not okay. You need to wake your mother.”

  Karen and I both cringe. Linda is not our mother.

  “Yes, sir,” I grumble.

  His fierce hazel eyes burn into me. “Lose that fire in your eyes, son, or I’ll snuff it out for you.”

  My eyes drop to the carpet and my voice is a whisper this time. “Yes, sir.”

  “Karen, back to the kitchen. Set another place at the table.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  “Karen,” he barks out, making her jolt. “Try again.”

  “Yes, sir,” she croaks out.

  “Good girl.”

  * * *

  Luke

  Mom would like it here. It makes me wonder if she ever lived here with him. I bypass the woodpile to seek out evidence my mother once dwelled here. The air is colder. I hadn’t noticed the temperature change on the bus ride. I’d sneaked onto a bus and hidden for the duration of the trip. As soon as I stepped off, I was shocked by the cold. Now, it invigorates me. Emboldens me. Excites me.

  I walk through a few trees and find myself at a clearing. A circle of dirt catches my attention. It makes me think of Mom’s favorite record. Will the nosy neighbor steal it while I’m gone? The idea makes me want to vomit, but I push it away as my knees fall to the ground. The dirt here is nearly as black as the vinyl. I run my fingertips around one edge of the circle, almost expecting to hear the crackling of the record right before the song starts.

  No music comes.

  Nothing but the sound of wind whistling through trees.

  The black dirt is easily scooped from its place. It reminds me of how I dug my mother’s grave. So simple. Just cup my hand and scoop. Again and again and again.

  I have quite the small heap of dirt beside me when something tickles the back of my neck. Swatting at it, I expect to kill a giant bug. Instead, I touch hair. Someone else’s. Swiveling around on my knees, I look up to see her. My cousin. Karen.

  An angel.

  Her blond hair flows out in front of her, reaching toward me like it wants to dance. I lift my hand and let the ends tickle my dirty palm. I’ve never seen hair so long. It must be as long as her knees.

  “Your hair is beautiful,” I blurt out.

  Like Mom’s.

  Her face blushes pink. “Thank you.”

  Rising to my feet, I cock my head and study her. It’s been Mom and I for so long, I forgot how it feels to be around other people. Especially girls my age. I think she’s my age.

  “How old are you?”

  “Nineteen. You?”

  “Eighteen.”

  She laughs. “I’m older than you.”

  “I’m taller.” I grin back and scratch at my stubble. “I can grow a beard.”

  She pretends to pout and it’s quite adorable. “You sound like Kristopher now, though he can’t grow a hair on his face to save his life.”

  His name makes my eye twitch, but I ignore it because he’s my cousin too. Family. I’m supposed to love him. Love them both.

  “Maybe we’ll gang up on you,” I tease. “What will you do then?”

  Her blue eyes twinkle as though I’m the most interesting thing she’s ever seen. “Kristopher would never hurt me.”

  “I wouldn’t hurt you either,” I promise, though I’m not sure. One can never be too sure of anything.

  She seems to believe me, though. “I know.” Her bottom lip gets abused by her teeth as she seems to mull over her words. “I thought you were going to be my husband.”

  I gape at her. “Me?”

  “Yeah. I’m ready to be a wife.”

  “A wife.” All I can do is stare at her. She’s too little to be a wife. How would her tiny body hold a baby inside?

  “Hmm.”

  “You don’t believe me.” She pouts again. “It’s true.”

  “Do you want me to be your husband?”

  She giggles. “No, silly. Not now. You’re my cou
sin.”

  I step closer so I can look at her face better. I want to see her plump lips. Maybe I’ll even touch them. I remember my dirty fingers and refrain. She’s wearing a white dress. I don’t want to dirty her up with me.

  “Karen!”

  She jumps about a foot in the air, squeaking in surprise, before turning around. “Kristopher! Don’t sneak up on me like that!”

  He stalks over to us, his face that matches hers exactly screwed into an angry scowl. Where she is smiles and light, he’s anger and darkness. Twins. Yin and yang. Two halves of a whole.

  “We need to get inside,” he hisses, his glare meant only for me. “Pa will be furious if he finds out we were out here alone with her.”

  I frown. “Why?”

  “Because she’s a woman,” Kristopher snaps.

  It dawns on me he means that my uncle might think we’d fuck her or something. But she’s so little. Like a child even though she’s older than me. I don’t understand why we’d want to have sex with her. She may think she’s ready to be a wife, but physically, I can’t fathom how.

  “I’m not going to fuck my cousin,” I bite out, offended that he thinks so lowly of me after just meeting me.

  Kristopher’s face burns bright red. “Do what?”

  I glance over at Karen and her blue eyes are alive and wild. Cutting my gaze back to his, I cock my head and lift my chin. “You’re sheltered, huh? Probably don’t even know what fucking means.”

  Kristopher’s jaw tightens. “We should go.”

  “Fucking is when a man and a woman—”

  Crack!

  I stumble back in shock. My jaw is on fire and Kristopher is shaking out his hand. He hit me. My cousin hit me. Because I was explaining sex.

  Karen shoots me an apologetic look before grabbing her brother’s hand and fussing over it. I don’t understand why she’s worried about his hand. It was my face that took the hit. Swallowing down the jealousy that he’s getting attention when I’m the one who got hurt, I let out a huff and follow them as they walk back to the house.

  They disappear inside while I stop to grab a few logs. I’m just entering in through the back door when I nearly run over a woman. Her head darts my way.