Beyond His Control

by Wild, Clarissa

  I’m certain we can get away with this. We must. There’s no other choice.

  The men can’t find out … yet.

  And until we’re ready to put up a fight, we need to lay low and pretend nothing’s going on.

  Of course, not all the matriarchs helped without protest. Trisha didn’t want to lay a hand on Patrick, but she promised she wouldn’t tell a soul. I doubt she wants to throw her fellow matriarchs under the bus because there’d be no one left … and being cooped up all alone in this giant house is certain to drive anyone mad.

  These women have had it the best, and still, they feel suppressed by their men. That means something because if we can move these women … we can move all the women in this community.

  And today is the day.

  Because with Patrick gone, it’ll only be a matter of time before the president finds out someone did something bad … and he’ll make that someone pay.

  There’s no time to waste. I’m going to do something now.

  My pockets are filled with vials that my mother made. She created most of the poisonous vials in the middle of the night when no one was awake. I can’t believe she went this far, but at the same time, I recognize the desperation. I was there, too, once, and I feel her pain.

  My father should’ve died, yet he still walks around, pretending he owns this Holy Land like it was his to begin with. He doesn’t know what’s coming. If she’s tried once, she’ll try it again, and I can’t wait to see the look on his face the moment he realizes he died by his wife’s own hands.

  But until then, I’ll have to sit it out … and emblazon the women in this community to stand up for themselves. And I know just how.

  Mother and I devised a plan. Noah didn’t agree, but I told him it was our way or the highway. This time, he doesn’t get to make the decision. I do. He wants to break down this community and survive as a patriarch? Then he has to be on our side.

  So he vowed not to intervene.

  Mother gave me the key she stole from Father, and I used it to escape the temple during the day … right before the scheduled dining hut visit.

  I put on the old white clothes I used to wear. Agatha kept them in a closet in her room, and it was easy enough to snatch those because she’s always busy with chores.

  Then I went out to join the women in their daily walk toward the dining hut … and I slipped into the crowd unnoticed.

  My pregnant belly is hidden behind the white drapes well enough to escape the guard’s attention.

  While walking with the women, I tap on the shoulder of those my mother has already spoken with, and I hand them a vial. I place a finger against my lips and shake my head.

  No speaking. Nothing to get noticed.

  I trust them to be discreet.

  I get a thank-you nod and go on my way to the next.

  Some of the women I’ve seen myself while my mother and I snuck into their huts at night to help them with their unruly husbands. Others I only know by name and by asking other women to point me in the right direction.

  It’s not easy finding the women who’ve been wishing for so long for an escape … but there are many. Too many. It’s time for a change.

  We go inside the dining hut, and I look around to see where everyone’s sitting. One of the elders hands me a scarf to cover my face since I didn’t enter with a husband holding my hand. Without saying a word, I grab it and put it on.

  I peer around the room and find Emmy sitting at a table for wives. She clenches the fork in her hand but doesn’t eat. Her face is still covered in bruises, and the smile on her face is long gone, along with the sparkle in her eyes. But something else has replaced that cheerfulness she used to have; a vicious yearning for vengeance. And the man sitting beside her, chomping down on his food is the target of all her rage.

  She’s ready, and I am too.

  I turn my head toward the ladies sitting beside me, eating their lunch in silence, and I take off the scarf around my mouth. They all look at me as if I’ve lost my mind, but I’m not afraid.

  “You don’t have to eat like this,” I say.

  “Put it back on,” one of them hisses at me.

  “Why? Why aren’t we allowed to talk?”

  “Because …” another one says through gritted teeth.

  “Rules?” I raise a brow. “And who made those rules? The men in charge. Men with power. Men who want to control you and keep you down. I’m done being subjugated.”

  I stand from my seat and speak louder and louder.

  “I’m done letting these men control my body. No one gets to decide who we talk to and what we say. No one gets to decide who is more worthy. We are all equal. We all deserve equal treatment.”

  A woman beside me tugs at my dress to try to get me to sit down, but I’m not going to stop.

  I came here with a purpose, and I intend to fulfill my duty.

  This community may not have my heart … but it holds my memories and my soul, and I’ll be damned if I let these women suffer any longer.

  “Women deserve to be treated fairly. We deserve to eat without scarves covering our mouths. We deserve to talk when we want. We deserve to marry who we want. We deserve to choose who to have sex with. We deserve power.”

  Everyone’s looking at me, even the women who first told me to stop. All the women are hanging on my words. Only the men seem outraged at my blatant attempt to make the others rise. And the guards have noticed too.

  So I amp up my game. I step onto the table and hold the scarf high to show my resistance.

  “Women are getting beaten. Punished. Hurt. All for men’s pleasure. And I say no more!” I yell. “Our bodies are our own!”

  No one’s eating any more, and the guards are approaching fast.

  Why is no one responding? None of the women say a word even though I know they want to. I can see it in their eyes; they’re begging me to make them move. But how?

  Suddenly, someone else gets up from their seat too.

  Emmy.

  “My body is my own!” she yells, and she looks around at all the other women.

  One more gets up. “My body is my own!”

  And another one follows, like turnips sprouting from the ground, they all go up in bunches. First, the women I gave the vials too, then their friends, and then their families, until almost half the women in the room have stood.

  Even in the face of their husbands sitting right next to them, judging their every move.

  “Women, it’s time to rise up! This is your time! Your life! Choose you! Take back the power they took from you!” I roar.

  Emmy’s husband tugs at her dress.

  Instead of getting down, she stabs him in the hand with her fork.

  Everyone sees.

  Then the entire room breaks out into screams.

  My eyes widen as the women who got up from their seats start punching the men they accompanied as hard as they can. We’re outnumbered, with guards sprouting up everywhere, but it won’t stop them now. They’re emboldened by my speech, and the whole thing quickly turns into one big food-smash-fight. Women and men throw punches at each other, scarves are flung around like lassos, food is thrown everywhere, and knives and forks are used to poke at arms and legs.

  Suddenly, a guard and I lock eyes. I panic and quickly jump down as he comes rushing toward me, and I throw myself into the crowd of fighting people. Someone throws me a lefty, and I barely duck out before it hits someone in the jaw. I crawl across the floor underneath the tables, trying to avoid getting hit.

  Guards are all around shushing people, warning them with shouting, but no one pays attention. A Taser is shot, and someone screams.

  I crawl up from the floor and look around. Emmy’s in the corner of the room, huddled closely to three other women who are trying to escape the dining hut.

  I have to help her.

  Rising with me created a target on her back, and I don’t want her to get hurt, so I quickly rush to her, ignoring the guard yelling my name a few
feet behind me.

  “Emmy! Get out! Now!” I yell, as her eyes finally land on me.

  In panic, she spins on her heels, goes into the kitchen area and brings back a giant cleaver that was used to butcher the pigs, and she jams it into the locked door as hard as she can. It creaks, and the door cracks open under the pressure, allowing the women to exit.

  People swarm to the door in an effort to escape the carnage. The dining hut quickly empties out like a bucket spilling its contents after someone cut a hole into it, and I rush out with the people while throwing my hood over my head again in an effort to blend in.

  I want to rile the people up, but getting caught is the last thing on my mind. Can’t change the system if I’m silenced, so I need to rescue myself before things get out of hand.

  But where is Emmy? I can’t find her even though I’m looking around the area. She’s nowhere to be seen.

  Then I spot her … getting dragged back to her hut by her own husband.

  My heart sinks into my shoes, and I bolt after them as fast as I can.

  He’ll punish her for what she did. I have to save her.

  I burst into their home, slamming the door open like a crazed warrior. “Let her go!” I yell.

  My sudden entrance catches the guy off guard, and his grip on her loosens for a moment … but that moment is enough for Emmy escape.

  She runs off into the kitchen and grabs a big pot roast that was on the fire. Screaming out loud, she hits him with it in the back of the head.

  I gasp in shock, and I cover my mouth as he drops to the floor, a red, bloodied wound on his skull.

  Chapter 24

  Natalie

  “Oh my … oh no, no, no!” she yells, and she drops the roast immediately. “What did I do?”

  I carefully step over his body and grab her to keep her from fainting. “Calm down.”

  “I killed him!” she yells. “I killed him, right? I killed him! Oh God …”

  “Shh …” She falls apart against me, crying her eyes out. “It’s okay,” I say, petting her back.

  “No, I killed my husband!” she yells. “I’m a horrible wife.”

  “No, don’t you say that, Emmy.” I lean back and make her look at me. “He deserved it. He hurt you.” I grab her arm and point at the bruise on her hands. “Look. Look what he did to you.”

  Tears well up in her eyes. “But this is not what we were taught … I’m so confused.” She jerks free from my grip. “I hate him, but I’m supposed to love him. And now he’s dead because of me.” She starts pacing around the house. “What do I do?”

  I quickly close the door and examine the body. “He’s definitely dead.”

  She covers her mouth with her hand and shakes her head. “Oh God, what have I done?”

  “You did what you had to, to protect yourself,” I say. “You deserve to live without pain, Emmy. And he’s caused you so much pain.”

  “But that doesn’t make it right to murder him!”

  I grab her and make her stop. “Listen to me. He was an awful man, just like all the others who hurt their wives.”

  “A good wife takes care of her husband,” she mutters, in complete shock.

  “A good wife is a wife who lives. Who’s happy,” I say. “And you deserve to be happy. There are other men out there who want someone like you. Who would treat you with dignity and respect.”

  She pauses and really looks at me for the first time since she killed him. “Really?”

  I nod.

  “No, wait, we shouldn’t even be talking about this. I’m married.” She closes her eyes and sighs.

  “Not anymore. He’s dead now,” I say, placing a hand on her cheek. “He can’t control you anymore.”

  She breathes out a sigh of relief, and the warmth of my hand is starting to have an effect on her. “What do we do?”

  “Get rid of the evidence,” I say. “And the body.”

  She grabs the roast she used and looks at the blood dripping from the bone. The look in her eyes changes. One second she’s crying, clearly upset at her own actions, and then … poof. Gone is the meek, scared little lamb, and out comes the chilling, merciless wife with no remorse.

  I knew she hated his guts; it was clear from the very first day.

  She was born to do this.

  And she marches straight back into the kitchen and stuffs the roast straight back into the fire.

  * * *

  Noah

  “What the fuck is going on out there?” the president barks as he stares out the breakfast room’s window.

  “Ah … I have no clue, sir,” I reply, trying to calm him down while also playing it cool by munching on an apple. “Maybe there was a celebration of some sort?”

  “No, there’s something going on,” he says, and he marches straight for the door.

  I quickly get up from my seat, leaving the apple. “Where are you going?”

  “Out. Someone has to check,” he replies, heading straight for the exit.

  “Hold up, we have guards for that,” I say, running a bit faster so I can catch up and get in front of him. “If you show yourself now, the people might think we don’t have the situation under control.”

  “I am in control,” he growls back. “And I have plenty of guards to back me up. Now get out of my way.” He stares me down until I have no choice but to step away before he gets his guards to pin me down.

  He storms off, and the guards follow suit. I tag along not too far behind, making sure I don’t get caught in his crosshairs. The scene outside has me stopping to catch my breath for a second.

  Women and men are throwing themselves at each other, punching, kicking, biting. There’s fighting going on all around the Holy Land, and I am just amazed.

  This is what Marsha and Natalie came up with?

  An uprising?

  The president continues his path toward the huts, so I follow him while looking around for Natalie. I have to get her out of here before he finds her and discovers she’s the cause.

  The president grabs a random passerby who’s running and shakes him. “Where’s Natalie? My wife? Have you seen them?”

  The passerby seems befuddled at both the question and the fact that the president himself is touching him. He’s never gone out when he wasn’t supposed to, when it wasn’t for official business, and he’s never been to the huts either, so it’s no wonder the guy is shocked. I am too.

  “Where are they?!” he growls.

  “I don’t know,” the guy says, raising his trembling hands. “I swear.”

  The president shoves him away, and the guy drops onto the muddy ground.

  “Keep searching,” the president barks at his guards. “Find them. Now!”

  The guards nod and instantly disperse, searching every hut in their vicinity, tearing it all apart. I can’t do anything but watch as the whole community seems to be turned on its head. I’ve never seen something like this, a violence so visceral it brings chills to my bones.

  Suddenly, I spot her, digging a hole in the ground next to a hut not too far from here.

  My eyes widen when I spot the body.

  Fuck.

  I glance at the president, and when he isn’t looking, I dash to Natalie. I grab her shoulder and pull her with me. “Come. Now.”

  “Noah? What are you doing here? Let go of me!” she squeals. “This has to be done!”

  “I don’t care what you’re doing, hide!” I bark, shoving her into the hut right next to where she was digging.

  Emmy’s there too, but she’s covered in blood, and the sight catches me off guard.

  She’s washing her hands, and the moment she looks up and spots me, the terror makes her tremble.

  “It’s okay. I won’t get you in trouble,” I say, holding up my hand. “But we need to go. Now.”

  Emmy’s jaw still drops, and tears fill her eyes.

  But she’s not looking at me.

  “Go where?”

  The moment his voice booms behind me, my
whole body feels as though it’s turned into ashes. And when Natalie turns around, her face turns bleak too.

  He followed me here.

  He saw.

  “Think you could hide this from me?” the president says. “That I wouldn’t discover all the things you’ve been planning behind my back?”

  I close my eyes and let it all sink in.

  He knows.

  She’s here for only one reason, and he knows exactly why.

  She caused the uprising … and now he knows I was involved too.

  We’re doomed.

  “Take them. Lock them up,” the president barks right before I’m shoved to my knees by two guards, muzzled, and put into chains.

  Ready for the slaughter.

  * * *

  Natalie

  “Let me out!” I yell, banging on my bedroom door again and again.

  It’s no use. No one’s going to let me out.

  The guards have a job to do. If they don’t listen, the president will punish them.

  The women won’t let me out because if they did, he’d know they were helping … and then he’d punish them too.

  The other patriarchs? They want to keep their power so they’d never help me.

  And Agatha? She’d lose her head if she tried.

  No one can help me.

  Not because they don’t want to, but because of their own safety. There is no happiness in this place, only power and those who have it. That’s what it’s all about … my father, the president, has it all.

  Someone has to take it from him.

  I just wish I knew how.

  I’m stuck in my room with nothing I can use as a weapon to tear this door down. It’s the only thing that’s standing between me and the people out there, the people who were ready. Damn, I was so close. Those women were ready to fight.

  And then the guards came and dragged them all away, one by one, until no one was left to fight.

  I don’t know what happened to all of those women. Did they put them all in suffering huts? Did they make them wash the floors? Clean the grounds? Did they hurt them? Punish them for their insolence?