Desperate Times

by Nicholas Antinozzi

  Cindy began to sob.

  Jimmy began to struggle against his bonds. He’d never felt such an anger. He ground his wrists together, tasting pure adrenaline in his mouth. He growled like an animal. Somehow, someway, he was going to get out of that cage and murder Bill Huggins with his bare hands. How could he just stand idly by while his own daughter waited to be set ablaze? He could see the others struggling now as well. Ken’s face was beet-red, the veins sticking out of his neck. Burt threw himself against the fence and was flung back onto his side where he writhed helplessly. There was no way he’d be getting to his feet, not in this lifetime, thought Jimmy.

  “Prepare the fire!” commanded Sister Margaret.

  Jimmy watched in horror as the congregation began to file slowly down the aisle, as if they were heading for communion. They walked to the back of the fence, and each picked up a piece of the brush and tossed it inside the cage. A large chunk hit Burt in the stomach, and Jimmy heard him grunt. He hopped over to where Burt was lying and tried to deflect the falling debris from his friend.

  They continued, circling the fence and tossing branch after branch into what would soon become their own barbeque pit. Jimmy was hit by several pieces of wood, as was everyone else inside the cage. Rita was crying, sitting down against the fence, buried up to her neck in the growing pile of brush. Cindy stood bravely next to her, her eyes streaked with tears. Paula was moaning and trying to keep her balance as the area began to fill up with brush. She fell, and Carl tried desperately to protect her. He fell on top of her and they stayed there, huddled together. Patty’s glasses were knocked off her face and a long, bloody scratch appeared on her cheek. Ken screamed.

  Sister Margaret walked over to the nearly depleted pile of brush and picked up the can of gas. Jimmy watched as she began to spill its contents around the base of the fence.

  The fumes of the gasoline burned his nostrils.

  Jimmy heard another voice screaming, much louder than all of the others. He turned, looking desperately to see where the agonized voice was coming from. He suddenly realized that it was coming from him.

  Thirty -Seven

  Song of Solomon 1:2 -- Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth—for your love is more delightful than wine. – (NIV)

  Jimmy clamped his mouth shut, grinding his jaws together. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of seeing his terror. He tried to block out the memories of Brenda being burned alive. How long would she have continued to scream had not Jon mercifully ended her agony? Jimmy didn’t know. He tried to prepare himself mentally. How does one prepare oneself to die? Jimmy found he didn’t know that either. He was then suddenly overwhelmed by a sudden urge to do something so simple, so logical, that he wondered why he hadn’t thought of it before.

  He was less than ten feet away from the last of their group that still remained on their feet. He wanted to join someone who stood defiantly in the middle of the cage. There wasn’t much time. He hopped away from Burt who was nearly covered in brush and looked to have given up all hope. There was nothing he could do for him now. There was nothing he could do for anyone except himself and perhaps someone else. He hopped toward the middle where there was less kindling to stumble over. If he concentrated, he might just be able to make it.

  Jimmy continued to hop. He hopped over Patty and Ken, who were lying helpless in a tangle of brush. They were spooned together, their faces streaked with tears. He watched Cindy and Rita struggle, and his heart ached. He hopped again and landed awkwardly on a limb the size of a baseball bat. He doubled over, just avoiding falling over and catastrophe. A chunk of pine hit him squarely in the forehead. Warm blood trickled down the bridge of his nose. He was almost there now. He blocked everything out—everything except his goal. He watched his feet chose his path and timed his short leaps to keep his momentum. And after two sideward leaps and another forward, he was standing face to face with her. She looked totally panic stricken and at first seemed as if she were looking right through him.

  Jimmy leaned in and gently kissed Julie.

  At first her lips seemed as hard as stone. Jimmy stayed where he was, and she gradually began to return his kiss. They moved closer, trusting each other not to fall over behind the weight of their kiss. Jimmy felt peace in that simple act, as if he’d righted some terrible wrong. The fact that Paula was merely a few feet away had no meaning now. He could go to wherever simple sinners such as himself ended up when they left this earth. He could do so knowing that he had truly loved, and perhaps had been truly loved in return. The kiss lasted almost a full minute.

  All good things must come to an end, thought Jimmy, a second after he was struck on the top of his head by a stout piece of pine. He crumpled in a heap among the brush and the limbs of his fellow comrades. The blow had knocked him nearly senseless, and he struggled to right himself. His twisting and turning were of no use. He was helpless, his bare arms and face a rash of scrapes and cuts.

  And then Julie was kneeling down, slowly and carefully positioning herself so that when she fell, she lay face to face with Jimmy.

  “I love you, Jimmy,” she said to him quietly.

  “I love you, too,” he answered.

  There was nothing more to be done, nothing more to be said. They stared into each others’ eyes, waiting for the end to come.

  And Jimmy finally felt at peace with himself, Julie, and even death.

  Thirty -Eight

  Heresy is a religious opinion held to be contrary to the Christian Church or that of any church, creed, or religious system.

  Mercifully, the brush stopped raining down upon them, and the congregation returned to where they’d been. Jimmy could hear pipe organ music being played. Jimmy wondered where it was coming from and then he remembered the CD player.

  Sister Margaret began to sing. He didn’t recognize the tune, but he recognized the voice. She sang in a high falsetto voice that lacked any sort of musical training. Jimmy wanted to cover his ears. Her voice cut like sharp claws. Sister Margaret was off pitch, off tempo and seemed to be determined to sing over the blaring organ melody.

  Julie had her eyes tightly closed and wore an agonized expression on her face. He longed to hold her in his arms one last time. He struggled against the bonds, but they were as tight as they’d been when the men had bound his wrists together.

  The singing ended with the organ music. Jimmy wondered how she’d been able to build such a following, despite her dreadful voice. The air was still and smelled of gas fumes and all was quiet, save for Paula’s low weeping. Jimmy watched a pair of jet-black crows on the limb of a pine. They seemed to be watching the scene below with great interest. They cocked their heads and cawed back and forth to each other.

  “The time has come, my friends. Who amongst you will step up and take the ceremonial candle, the Lord God’s own flame, and send these heathens on their way to hell? God will reward you for this. Our own time is near, perhaps only moments away. Who will do one final service in God’s name?”

  Jimmy waited, listening, the gasoline fumes stinging his nostrils.

  “The Lord our God has instructed me to ask one of you to do this. Who among you will stand at his right hand and share in his glory?”

  There was nothing but silence. Jimmy felt something close to hope building inside of his chest. Might they all be spared?

  “I need a volunteer, people!” Sister Margaret shouted, the sanctity gone from her voice. “I need one now! Who will spark the flame?”

  Jimmy struggled into a sitting position. He looked at the congregation, and they all seemed to be looking at him, at them. The spell seemed to be breaking. Julie sat up next to him, and they exchanged hopeful glances.

  “The Lord commands one of you to do his work!” shrieked Sister Margaret. “Who among you has the faith to trust in his judgment? He’s calling you, right now!”

  Again the congregation was utterly silent. Jimmy could see shaking heads in the crowd and saw that they had obviously lost their stomach for
Sister Margaret and her work. Jimmy could see Jerry Jenkins and Glen Putnam standing idly by with their rifles, the two men he’d surely felt would step up to do her bidding. The look on their faces told the same story. They wanted no part of this.

  “What, Lord?” shrieked Sister Margaret, “You’re asking me to do this? Oh, thank you, dear God. Thank you!”

  Jimmy turned his head to look into the insane eyes of Sister Margaret. She held a long candle high above her head, the flame flickering in the still air.

  “God has instructed me to finish this task! I want you all to bow your heads and pray for forgiveness! Pray to God, all of you!”

  Jimmy quickly turned his head and was shocked to see every head in the congregation was lowered. Even Jenkins and Putnam stood stock still, their chins tucked in. They wouldn’t do it themselves, but they weren’t about to stop her. Jimmy’s heart sank.

  A woman began to shriek.

  Jimmy returned his attention to Sister Margaret and saw that the sound was coming from her. The sound was like nothing he’d ever heard in his life. Jimmy blinked his eyes, wondering if the gas fumes were starting to get to him. Sister Margaret’s hair was standing completely on end, as if she’d been hung by her feet. Her eyes began to bulge, and he saw fear in those eyes. Her mouth seemed to be opened at an impossible angle, and the screaming rose to a glass-shattering pitch. Jimmy couldn’t take his eyes off her. What was happening? Sister Margaret’s wild hair suddenly began to smoke and quickly caught flame. She still held the candle clenched in her right hand, and Jimmy wondered at the sight of it. She began to spasm and convulse; then she was suddenly silent. She looked as if she’d burnt out like a bad bulb.

  Jimmy watched in horror as Sister Margaret’s eyes burst from their sockets. A gasp arose from the congregation as she tipped over like a fallen pine. Jimmy looked at the grass where she lay. She was dead. Jimmy was sure of it, except he had no idea as to how or why. Could this be the miracle they were praying for? The green grass around the pulpit suddenly turned a mid-August bronze, and the spot continued to spread like a huge brown stain. Jenkins stood nearest to the pulpit, and he was soon overcome by the stain. He fell over, his body flopping like a fish out of water. Putnam was next and he convulsed in the same manner as Jenkins. Jimmy couldn’t believe his eyes. What was happening? The grass began to wither in a great wave that rushed away from the house with considerable speed. Jimmy watched as it overtook the congregation, knocking them over like bowling pins. Jimmy could smell an overpowering ozone smell, the same unmistakable smell that he’d experienced at the lake. Could this be lightning? Jimmy didn’t think so as there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.

  Jimmy felt his heart pounding blood into his temples. The stain was spreading, and it was heading their way now. He held his breath. Julie screamed.

  The grass withered and died all around them. Jimmy tried to look away, knowing that the end had finally come. Still, he didn’t close his eyes.

  And yet—nothing happened inside their prison.

  Nothing happened at all. Everything was silent. Jimmy watched as the others struggled to sit up. Their eyes all conveyed the same expression of shock. Had they truly experienced a miracle? Jimmy had no doubt that they had, but was it a miracle from God? Had He spared them from Sister Margaret? Suddenly Jimmy was sure of it. The Lord truly worked in mysterious ways. He quickly bowed his head and said a short prayer, thanking God that they were all still alive.

  The screen door on the house slapped shut, and the sound echoed across the lawn.

  It was Bill Huggins.

  “Holy crap!” he shouted. “It worked! I did it! Yes!”

  He ran toward them, leaping the fallen body of Sister Margaret like a chubby deer. He ran at them with a long knife. Bill’s face was as bright as a five year-old child’s on Christmas morning. He whooped in glee, charging the fence at full speed.

  Jimmy wanted to stand and cheer. Tears ran down his cheeks. He watched speechlessly as Bill dropped the knife and tore at the wires that held the cage together. He worked like a madman, oblivious to the sharp wires that gashed his hands and fingers. He ripped open the fence, and it groaned as it parted. Bill picked up the knife and began to wade through the gasoline-soaked brush. He charged toward Jimmy but didn’t stop. He didn’t even seem to see him. Jimmy turned his head and watched as Bill nearly dived on top of his daughter.

  “I’m sorry, baby,” he said in a burst of sobs. “I’m so sorry. Oh, God, tell me that you’re okay? Please tell me, honey? Oh, Lord, let me get you out of here!”

  Jimmy began to cry; he couldn’t help himself. His body was racked with sobs of his own, and one look at the others told him that he wasn’t alone. He watched as Bill cut away Cindy’s bonds and the two embraced.

  Jimmy turned his head up to the sky. Just in time to see the crows flying away.

  Thirty -Nine

  In 1946 the Hungarian National issued the highest banknote ever created. Try to imagine a 100,000,000,000,000,000,000 dollar bill. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the Hungarian National Bank had another banknote printed but never issued. This note was ten times larger.

  “Tell me again,” said Ken, as they all stood a safe distance away from their little prison. “What in God’s name did you do?”

  “Not much,” answered Bill. “I just hardwired the capacitors on your generator and ran the juice up through your two-twenty line from your welder. It really wasn’t too tough. I thought they’d wonder why my extension cord to the CD player was as thick as a rope. Nobody seemed to notice. They were all avoiding me. I don’t know why… That did make it easy, though. Anyhow, I wired a splitter to a slab of steel that I borrowed from your table-saw and used that for the base of the pulpit. When she lifted that candle I hit the switch and gave her all it had. I didn’t think it’d kill her, not like that… I’m sorry, Ken. I really made a mess of your workshop, and I think I toasted your generator.”

  “Sorry?” Ken asked, and he wrapped his big arms around Bill and hugged him savagely.

  “It was no big deal,” Bill said. “Anyone could’ve done it.”

  Jimmy shook his head. Only Bill could’ve done something so brilliant and could’ve followed it up by uttering something so foolish. He began to laugh; they all did. Thank God for Bill Huggins, thought Jimmy.

  “What about the others?” Ken asked, letting Bill go.

  “I really don’t know,” said Bill. “It must’ve been the rain. I don’t get it. Look at the ground. The grass is all burnt up except for the grass inside where you were. That’s strange…”

  They all looked, and Bill was right. Grass, the color of wheat, completely encircled the cage. Under the brush, the lawn was as green as a golf course fairway. They exchanged odd looks, and Jimmy felt a chill run down his spine.

  “We thought she’d converted you, Bill,” said Patty. “How in God’s name did you fool her?”

  “I knew she was trouble as soon as she started giving her sermon out on the ball field,” said Bill. “I just figured that we should have someone on the inside. Like a spy or something. I would’ve said something to someone, but everything just happened so fast.”

  “That was brilliant, Bill. I don’t know how we can ever thank you,” Patty said, taking Bill into her arms.

  “A couple steaks and a cold beer would do it,” answered Bill.

  Patty nodded and once again the group was overcome with laughter.

  “Are they all dead?” asked Cindy.

  Burt jogged over to Jenkins and bent over and checked his neck. “He’s still got a pulse,” he said, reaching down and pulling the rifle from underneath the fallen man. “They’re probably all still alive. Hurry, everyone! Gather up the weapons!”

  Jimmy picked up Putnam’s shotgun and raced toward where the congregation lay in the dead brown grass. He didn’t remember any of them carrying any guns, but he had to be sure. He began to pat them down, looking for weapons. After he’d finished, he began to see those in the back of the crowd begin to stir
.

  “They’re coming out of it!” shouted Jimmy. “What should we do?”

  “March them to the gate!” shouted Ken. “I want them out of here, all of them!”

  Jimmy took a position behind them, Burt stood at their flank. They held their guns at the ready. The congregation slowly began to rise to their feet, each of them wearing the same expression of shock, guilt, and shame. When they were all standing and had regained some of their senses, Jimmy ordered them toward the front of the house and the gate beyond. He didn’t care where they went from there. That was their business.

  Ken and Dr. Benson hefted the timber and set it down next to the wall. Julie stood by, holding a rifle like she meant business. Jimmy had no doubt that she did. Ken and Dr. Benson pushed open the gate and were suddenly met by the blasting of a police siren.

  “What the hell?” said Jimmy, who stood at the back of the line ushering Sister Margaret’s clan toward the gate. He watched as Ken walked cautiously outside. They all seemed to follow. Only Julie remained inside.

  Jimmy felt helpless to do anything. There were too many people between him and the open gate. “Hurry up!” He shouted, angrily. “Get out of here!”

  Jimmy shot a look to Burt and found that he shared the same concerned expression. Jimmy began to push on the back of the last man in the group. “Get moving!” he screamed. He watched as the throng began to file out of the gate and cursed their methodical paces. Didn’t they get it? He had to get out there. He had to find out what awaited them on the outside. When had the police gone back to work, and why were they here? Jimmy fought the terror that had welled up inside him. This couldn’t be good. Once again they’d beaten the odds, and once again they were about to be foiled.

  A sound began to erupt from the gate, a strange sound that Jimmy didn’t recognize at first. Another two agonizingly slow steps and Jimmy finally figured out what it was.