The First Betrayal

by A. M. Clarke

  Having walked to work that morning, she was relieved that the rain had eased off.

  She normally enjoyed her walk home through the wood walk. It was calming and serene, after a busy day looking after her residents. The moon cracking through the fir tree canopy, needles crunching underfoot, and the luxury smell of sap and earth.

  The blackness of the sky was clearing, allowing the moon to make a watery appearance. Vera almost glided along the sidewalk, her thoughts jumbling together like marbles in a bag. Her mother’s posthumous comments would no doubt be interesting.

  'Way to go girl, see what happens when you stack the deck in your favour, you can’t possibly think there will be more to it. Still a one night stand is better than nothing, can’t see him coming back for seconds.' Her mother wasn’t cruel, she was forthright, and didn’t believe in false hope.

  Vera knew the score and didn’t really believe that Adam would want more. It was a one off, a physical combustion. Nevertheless --- it would be nice. She inhaled deep breaths of the damp grass scented air. Small gusts of a breeze tussled her hair and nudged its cold nose around her neck, making her shiver. A noise behind, startled her. She wasn’t sure what kind of noise, she hadn’t been paying attention. It was just a noise, but it was something different to all the other night time noises. Her heart beat a little faster, should she stop and turn around, or keep walking. She kept walking, quicker than before and the night noises remained the same. Again, a noise, but she still couldn’t place it. Swiftly, she swivelled around; hoping to see whatever was making the noise. Nothing. Standing her ground, she waited, trying to be brave and in control of the situation. After a few seconds, she resumed her journey home. It remained uneventful until she was near her front gate, then a different kind of noise alarmed her. It disturbed her so much, that she ran to the gate, shoved it open and frantically scoured her bag for the keys. As in every scary story you’ve ever read or watched on TV, the keys were of course impossible to find, so she resorted to her emergency key, she kept hidden under a rock behind the wall. The noise was growing louder, but she finally managed to get the door open. A big gust of wind picked up a bundle of dead leaves and propelled them past her front gate, and on down the road. An empty drink can had gathered with the leaves, rattled, and scraped on the pavement as it travelled causing the unexpected noise. It wasn’t what she expected to see, but the relief was immense. Close to hysterics, she quelled the rising laughter in her throat and went in to pour herself a large gin.

  Better!

  Chapter Twenty Four

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  The church was quiet. It always was at that time of night. A small number of lights were always on, like a beacon of sanctuary, even though you couldn’t get in when it was locked. A sign of the times. The smell of incense always prevailed; no matter how long between uses or how long the doors were open. It permeated every knot in the wooden pews, each pained paint stroke of Christ’s final, tortured journey home to His Father, 'The Stations of the Cross.'

  Mike lit the first candles of the day, remembering as he did each poor soul that had perished in the last few hours. He went out to the sacristy to continue the abandoned sermon. Re-reading what he had already written, Mike discarded it. He had reconsidered, and in his head had mentally penned a new version.

  An hour and ten minutes later, Mike put down his pen and read over his work.

  'Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.'

  ‘We usually only associate this phrase with Our Lords prayer. From the beginning of time, trust and betrayal have walked hand in hand with good and evil. Temptation and trust equal betrayal, and our confessionals are full of people admitting to carnal thoughts of someone other than their spouse, or worse, confessing to actual adultery. One wonders if they had indeed wrestled with their conscience before making such a monumental decision. I call it monumental, because that’s exactly what it is. To give in to the temptation to cheat has so many consequences. A loved ones trust shattered, the heartbreak and the possible devastation of a family.

  As priests, we also have to face the same temptations, only our spouse is a lot more vengeful. You’ve all heard of the 'Wrath of God.' I jest, He’s not that bad, but as I said, we have to resist the physical side of our lives. Everyone is aware of the churches greatest shame, the ultimate betrayal of young children who trusted these priests. Temptation gives us the power to be better people and do the right thing. Let us pray together to try and take the high ground and put temptation where it belongs.

  In Gods very own rubbish bin.’

  Not bad he thought, even if he said so himself. As he did a little back patting, he heard voices in the church. Someone needing spiritual guidance or just alone time. As he was about to round the corner and show himself, he recognised one of the voices. Evelyn. The other one he didn’t know. He paused and waited, unsure what to do. Then the voices changed, suddenly they were softer and gentler than before. He waited a bit longer and then the moaning started. Mike wasn’t an expert in these things, but he had a fair idea of what was going on. Creeping and then peeping around the corner, he couldn’t believe his eyes. There on Gods holy alter, were two women, Evelyn and Lucy Woodcock, doing things he had never even thought of. He tried to avert his gaze but he was drawn back.

  Lucy was lying on the steps to the alter, her legs spread with Evelyn between them. Mikes body was doing the unthinkable, it, was betraying him, like literally never before. The sensual moans from Lucy were driving him crazy, and as Evelyn explored Lucy’s welcoming erotic regions, Mike struggled to contain himself. It seemed like forever, but within minutes, Lucy was screaming silently, she was too late, trying to respect the sanctum of the church. Evelyn moved upwards to Lucy’s mouth, and when she licked her own juices from her lovers lips, Mike nearly lost his mind. They kissed like teenagers on a first date, devouring each other as if their very lives depended on it. He withdrew to the sacristy and from there out to his house. Aching with a newfound desire, Mike paced the floor in the sitting room, swallowing gulps of a large whiskey.

  Was God testing him, to make the right decision, or did He expect him to fail. Something was very wrong, over the last two days; he had felt a sinister presence on the island. Stephen thought he was being paranoid, but there was definitely more going on than mere coincidence. The more whiskey he swallowed, the aching became tolerable. That was until Evelyn entered the room. She was either very quiet, or Mike had been so caught up in his own misery, that he hadn’t heard her.

  ‘Hello Father Mike, I hope you don’t mind my intrusion. I just happened to be in the area, and thought I’d stop by.’ Mike didn’t know what to say, so said nothing.

  ‘I know you were there Father Mike, I could sense you watching. Did you enjoy what you saw, or were you jealous perhaps?’

  ‘Why would I be jealous?’ and damn it, he could hear the tremor in his own voice.

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Why are you here?’ Mike tried to regain some semblance of authority. He thought his voice sounded more like his own, but the look on Evelyn’s face said otherwise.

  ‘You were watching us Father Mike, and, you were enjoying our little show. Ill ask again, did you enjoy our irreverent behaviour, I refuse to believe that you are immune to normal sexual desires. You may be a priest, but you are still a man. A man in which I have smelled a wretched yearning. Like it or not Father Mike, you are just like every other man, horny and human.’ Evelyn dropped on to the sofa, draping herself seductively across its flowery fabric. Her beauty spoke without words, eyes greener than a fresh mown lawn and she smelt even sweeter. Hair like coloured mahogany wood nestled on her shoulders, the curls sitting happily on her buxom breasts. She was arrogant in her self-assurance, and almost repulsive in her sexual exuberance.

  Mike was lost. Words that hadn’t even formed dyed in his throat, a libido he never knew existed, burned in his loins. He was in turmoil over the effects that his body had developed since meeting this bewitching woman. Sh
e was a temptress, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could resist. Rummaging up all his will power, he drew upon the sermon that he had written only a short while before, and sucking in his gut and groin, inhaled some moxey. He was an ordained priest, and he held his vows seriously. Some random woman wasn’t about to undermine his lifelong beliefs and desecrate the holy order that he held more dear than life itself.

  Dear god, the smell of her was overwhelming. It was like burnt roses with a splash of freesias. Sultry and sweet.

  ‘I think you should leave. Your futile efforts to seduce me are disrespectful and comical in there transparency.’

  ‘I might be transparent, but I know weakness when I smell it, and Mike, you positively reek. In fact, I have seen your weakness bulging, so do not kid yourself. You want me and I want to desecrate you and your chaste vows.’

  ‘For the last time, get out. My body might be showing weakness, but my head and heart will always overpower and defeat.’

  ‘All right Father Mike, Ill go, but I don’t like to lose, so I won’t be giving up.’

  Mike slumped into the nearest chair, his legs suddenly losing the ability to hold him up. His heart was thumping in his chest, a mixture of temper and shame burning his face.

  Chapter Twenty Five

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  The trees were closing in, trying to pull her into their grasp. The naked limbs pale and ghostly, made an eerie noise, like dried brittle bones chaffing each other. She ran on, blind with panic and tears. Her screams were indistinguishable from the owls own screams, as they derided her from the safety of the malevolent trees. Unexpectedly, the way ahead was clear and the trees had receded behind her. A house appeared, as if from nowhere. The lights were on, welcoming her from within. She knocked on the door, frantically looking behind her, expecting someone or something to be there. The door opened, but no one stood behind it. Convincing herself that the door had already been ajar, and with little choice, she entered.

  ‘Hello is anyone home. I’m sorry to intrude but I need help. I think someone is following me. Hello.’ No one answered, so she continued down the hall. Faint music drifted from a room near the bottom of the long hall. Passing dark and closed doors, she reached the music and knocked again. Still no answer, so with a little trepidation, she turned the knob, and peeked around the door. A log fire burned in the grate, a pile of logs stacked beside it. A delicious smell of burning wood hung in the room. The music was coming from a beautiful gramophone, a vinyl record spinning under the needle. Over stuffed chintz chairs, crowded the floor and an impressive mahogany sideboard dominated the wall under the window. The top of the cabinet was covered in photographs in ornate frames. They held a life story of a young girl, who grew into a stunningly beautiful woman. Some included a handsome man, whose hair turned grey through the years, while the beautiful woman’s stayed the same vibrant red. The years hadn’t diminished her beauty, but had only added to it, and judging by the absence of the handsome man, she guessed he had passed on. Over the fireplace mantle, hung a portrait, the woman was so much more beautiful than in the photographs. Her beauty, not exaggerated by watercolours, but more amplified by its sensual strokes. It gave the impression of an angel afloat above ground.

  She stood transfixed by her, the red tresses, teased and pulled up in a loose, casual way. Tied in back with one could imagine, an antique bejewelled clasp. A clasp that would undoubtedly match the extravagant amber necklace and drop earrings that adorned her. The face was bewitching, seemingly looking at the artist, but actually looking beyond, thinking or dreaming of someone or somewhere else. The dress was golden brown, brown, seems like such a dour colour, but this was gilded almost, the threads glimmering on the canvas. Like the season, it was autumnal in its simplistic, yet lavish setting. The threads alive in the intricacy of the fabric.

  A noise startled her, and dragging her gaze away looked toward the door. Hinges creaked as it opened, and in floated the lady from the pictures.

  ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to greet you, I do like to welcome my guests personally. You were looking at my picture, weren’t you?’

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry for intruding, but your door was open and I thought I was being followed. I hope you don’t mind, but this room drew me in. Your pictures don’t do you justice.’

  ‘Well thank you so much my dear. Come and sit, let me show you my albums, I was quite something you know.’

  They sat together pouring over old memories, the fire dwindling in the grate. Apart from the crackling of the wood embers, the only sound was the strange mysterious woman recounting her life story. Strangeness surrounded the whole situation. They hadn’t imparted names, and neither one seemed inclined to be forthcoming. It was if they didn’t need introducing, happy in their own company, without acknowledging who they were.

  Chapter Twenty Six

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  The noise was muffled, but persistent and intrusive. Eventually Vera’s subconscious became aware that her phone was ringing, and she stretched her hand out to lift the receiver. ’Yes, what is it; ok slow down, what’s wrong with the residents? Look your talking gibberish, Ill be there in a few minutes to see for myself. ’Shaking off the nightmare, Vera showered and dressed and decided after last nights scare, that she would drive her mothers old car to work. She spent the time on the drive trying to decipher her dream. Before coming to grips with any of it, she was at the home and pulling into her spot. Luckily, there was a rail to stop her car, because she was so focused on the residents walking and skipping around the grounds. 'What the hell is going on, last night these people couldn’t even get around using a walker aid.'

  In a daze, Vera made her way to the reception area, heckled and jeered by what should have been the equivalent of half-dead geriatrics. ‘Look at us Vera.’ ‘We can move quicker than you Vera.’ ‘It’s a miracle Ve; God must have taken pity on us.’ Vera could only wave at them, too stunned to do or say anything. Jane, the physio, was standing at the door, waiting for her and watching with a look of disbelief and happiness on her face, as her patients frolicked like young lambs.

  ‘It’s a miracle Vera, just look at them. I came in early to give Ezra some extra physic for his hip and this is what I found. The ones I could get to stand still long enough to talk to, said they woke this morning with this amazing energy, and somehow knew that they could walk, dance or do anything they wanted to do.’

  ‘I see it but I’m not sure I believe it. What happened between last night and this morning? Does anyone else have any idea what went on?’

  ‘Well Vera, they all say that after the meal and games with that 'friend' of yours, they went to the pool and then to bed. Nothing happened after that, that anyone remembers being out of the ordinary. They think your 'friend' is a messenger from God, here to square things up.’

  ‘For one thing Jane, Adam is not my 'friend', he is just someone looking for a lost relative. Secondly, there is no such thing as a miracle. Come on Jane, you don’t really buy into that rubbish, do you,

  What’s your reasoning, aliens came, put magic powers in the hydro pool, and now we have cocoon. Come on Jane, be serious.’

  ‘Ok “Vera', you give me a reasonable exclamation for what you are seeing with your own eyes. You tell me how you can explain this.’ Jane gestured to the gardens with an exaggerated flourish of her arms ‘Well Vera, explain that.’

  ‘I haven’t time for this, and you watch too many movies. Ill be inside trying to make sense of this. Now please Jane, get everyone together for role call. We don’t want these old fools getting loose and escaping.’ Vera knew she was being unreasonable and unkind, but the circumstances were outrageous and unbelievable and she didn’t take kindly to nonsense. For god’s sake, she knew better than to believe such delusions. Vera called her staff together and demanded answers for the mornings events, but she didn’t get anything satisfactory. Each staff member had the same response. Vera herself had seen them going to the pool, and knew they went to bed afterwards, but what occurred betw
een then, she hadn’t a clue. Logic dictated something she couldn’t make logical.

  Chapter Twenty Seven

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  Stephen woke early, knowing the scene he was going to was awful. He had dozed rather than slept in a series of minutes as opposed to hours. Every hour on the clock blinked in that smug, 'I know you can’t sleep' way, as he pushed every gruesome image back in his minds drawer.

  Managing to get himself together, he left at 10am, his stomach churning at the thought of seeing someone he considered a friend, in such a heart breaking way.

  . . . . .

  The community bus left the residential home at 10am. One of the residents had called a meeting that morning in the breakfast room, and suggested catching the ferry to the mainland for a day out.

  ‘Listen everyone, this miracle that has happened to us is bloody wonderful, but lets face facts, we could wake tomorrow morning and have reverted back to our old bodies, with their old degenerative ways. So I think we should make the most of this anomaly and head to the mainland for some fun. We could visit family or friends, or really have some fun and go to the pub, have a nice meal in a nice restaurant, go skinny dipping in the freezing cold water and eat some candy floss, really give our cholesterol something to worry about. What do you say?’

  It took mere seconds before they all shouted, ’Lets do it.’ After much coercion and some home truths about who pays who, Vera had to relent and phone the bus, but not before threatening them all with calls to their relatives. That couldn’t diminish their excitement, and they ran, skipped and danced away to get ready for their big day of unexpected adventure.