Taking me by surprise, L smudged my lips with a rough and unfussy kiss, ending with the sound of popping lips. I was completely gob-smacked, lip-smacked rather, as she removed her raggedy top to expose her pear shaped breasts. I opened my mouth to protest, but before any words left my tongue, she flung herself on top of me and then smeared her tits through my hands.
"Our purpose!" she said, kissing my mouth and locking her legs around my hips. "Give me a child! Give me!"
"Wh, What?!" I choked, as the girl fought herself down on top. She wasn't strong, just extremely determined.
"Madam B knows!" she groaned, rubbing at my groin. "No talking now, mister! I'll enjoy it more it you don't talk!"
I too groaned, as this alluring creature's busy fingers unbuckled my belt. I wanted to let this happen, to go with it, but the more I let appetite take over, the louder the sense inside me screamed, "Get a hold of yourself, asshole!"
I turned the sprite over, sat on her flat stomach and pressed her wrists against the mattress. "I'm very flattered," I said, red-faced. "I really am, and I'd love to, but-"
"You gotta fuck me!" she begged. "You gotta!"
"I don't gotta do anything!"
Again, and with wild eyes, she wrestled against my weight, all the time pleading for a baby. "Anything mister! Anything you want!"
My strength won out in the end, and when the girl finally surrendered, her tears resumed, pitiful, hopeless sobbing. "You don't understand, mister! You can't!"
"Make me." I said, stepping back. "Talk to me, please?"
At that instant, the shack door was thumped open, giving me the fright of a lifetime. Kat filled the doorway, body glowing against the evening orange. His face tensed with repulsion as he examined the sight of this older man and half-naked woman distressed on the bed. Before I could explain or hear L's story, the girl scurried over the bed and raced past Kat, who pompously tried not to notice her bouncing breasts.
"It's not what you think…" I said, feeling his glare.
***
Dusk was replaced by the rapid tide of darkness. Atmospheric lanterns lit various locations around the village, and the escalating sound of goings on lured me out of the shack. I was pleased to be away from the shit, but still very aware of it drying over my boots now.
The community was tightly knit, the sort of place were privacy is non-existent, where your business is everybody else's. The homes only were moderately better than the shack, built from disjointed stones using mud for insulation. There were around twenty of these depressing hovels built over sludge. This was a tough existence, hard work and heartache, and no matter how safe they might be, I did not envy any soul residing here.
Only one of these homes appeared fit to live in, fit for a king, in fact. Georgian in style, it was an immaculate white, had a welcoming wooden porch, two floors, clean windows, and a pleasing glow coming from red curtains inside. I wanted to point out the peculiarity of that spotless home in this dilapidated village. I needed to share this nonsense with someone, anyone, but it appeared that the only peculiarity here was my presence. Faces watched, fingers pointed, and doors closed at my back.
Arriving at a long dining table, three women assembled plates and cutlery for the evening meal. I watched their work and they sensed me watching. None smiled or gave me the pleasure of their face. Kat would be at home here. "Excuse me," I said, moving closer. "Can I have a minute?"
One of them, a redhead with face full of freckles suddenly accosted me. "What is it?" she cried, somehow insulted. "What have I done? What do you want?"
“Sorry. It's nothing…” My mind was suddenly scrambled, not by her attitude, but by the swollen belly under her cardigan, and the baby growing inside it.
"You're…pregnant?"
She placed a motherly hand over her stomach and smiled, as Madam B had done. "Due any day."
The other two women placed the last of the knives and forks, and I noticed that they too were pregnant. I had to rub my face, needed to get off my feet. "How can we help you?" one asked, but I was too mystified to respond. The young woman repeated her question, and words eventually found me.
"Where…are the men? I have seen none. Are they hiding or something? Lost?"
The redhead laughed, directing her hand behind me. "Why, there is one man!"
I turned, hopes dashed to see Kat strolling toward me. "Kat!" I said, hurrying to him. "Man, we have to talk!"
Looking more irritable than ever, Kat was not interested in anything I had to say.
"You were told to remain in the shack!" he bawled, both cheeks fat with air. "You were told!"
"Oh," I protested, "so it's fine for you to go on walkabouts, huh? I couldn't stay in that fucking pit a second longer! There is something wrong here, okay? We're not safe!" I clutched his arm but he slapped it down.
"You do as I say!" he said, suddenly pinching my chin with his thumb and finger. "I will not tell you again!"
With a push of his palm, he jerked back my stunned face. My heels came away and I slipped foolishly to the mud, the samurai already returning in the direction he had come.
***
The table was surrounded by people and food that evening; it was a feast of chicken, pork, fish, bread, water, and wine. All the stops were pulled out. The colorful sights and tantalizing smells made bellies growl and dry mouths water.
Kat and I were not on speaking terms since our earlier episode; hence, we dined at opposite ends of the fire-lit dinner table. Twenty-five villagers, all of them female, sat to eat, waiting for Madam B to speak from her privileged position at the head of the table. When that rough woman eventually rose, she cast her eyes and smiles over all present. "As you know, ladies, we have two guests with us tonight. Daniel Fox, and his samurai, who needs no introduction. We have all been enthralled by your story at one time or another, Kat."
The women graciously glanced, and I returned a smile. Kat did not.
"We hope you enjoy the meal," B concluded, "and our company, gentlemen." The beaten up old woman then gave a consenting wave, permission to tuck in.
I was pleasantly surprised that we were not left waiting for prayer or some other ritual beforehand. I snapped a leg of chicken from that tray, scooped a generous helping of potatoes from another one, and ate.
After moments of ravenous chewing, I became aware of something very unusual. A delicious feast for the eyes this food was, but not for the palate. The same taste filled my mouth with every bite — it was a mash of sandy wood, poisoning everything from the bread to the soup. I coughed out that gunk coating the back of my mouth and heard further giggles from women around me.
"I'm not getting used to it Kat," I said, from across the table. "I'm really not!"
Kat didn't pay me any mind, and eventually the hunger pains in my stomach cancelled out the bitter taste on my tongue. I ate all I could, and although it was foul, it at least gave me energy and that satisfying feeling of having a full stomach. The pretty blonde-haired woman, Madam L, did not look at me once during the meal, and whenever I caught her eye, she would shy it to a table or plate, anywhere but me.
Kat's manners or lack of kept me amused throughout dinner. With no class or etiquette whatsoever, the man snatched large handfuls of food and scarfed; grunting snorts and lingering burps, he chewed with his mouth open and then swilled back goblets of wine to see it all down, and the unfortunate woman seated next to him clearly wished she wasn't.
When most were through eating, I drank wine whilst women chatted amongst themselves about the weather, the harvest, and other things that didn't interest me. What I cared about was my curiosity, and now that my hunger was satisfied, I might as well see to the other. "I saw the white house earlier," I began, scratching at my chin. "I was wondering who lived there? Anyone?"
"A newly built home, Mr. Fox," answered Madam B. "In time, we hope to have one for each of the women here. They deserve it."
I returned a nod, aware that she did not answer my question: Who lived there?
"Tell me," I added, without care; "are you all named with letters? A little strange, don't you think? I mean there's only so many letters in the alphabet." I saw agreeing expressions from some, but anxiety from most. "Is there a Madam A?" I continued, the question causing one girl to go into a sudden fit of choking. The woman seated next to her promptly patted several times on this girl's back. Not a moment later, she spat out a piece of doe from her throat, and we all breathed again.
"The bread is a little tough tonight," said Madam B, wearing a cool demeanor toward my inquisitiveness. "Madam A is gone, Mr. Fox. The second death, I'm sure you're aware of that.”
“What happened?”
“Poor thing,” B replied. “She became too old to protect the women, and too weak to protect herself."
"Too old to protect the women, eh?” I said, trying to be clever. “Or maybe too old to have children?"
My comment caused even Kat to stop chewing, and the entire table peered at me with expressions of surprise and horror. In a matter of seconds, a moderately pleasant atmosphere had now disintegrated into tetchy and uncomfortable silence. Madam B's smile was gone, her pretence and patience were slipping. "When will you be leaving, gentlemen?" she asked.
I waited for Kat to answer, for only he knew it. "In the morning," he grunted. "For the Macros."
"So soon?" one girl added. "Shame."
That synthetic tone agitated me. It was worse when I saw every face wearing that same mask.
"It will be a daunting climb," said Madam B. "Not many travel up the slope of the Macros, and those who do…never come back."
The danger welcomed, Kat grinned behind handfuls of stale bread.
"What's your business up there?" asked L, resulting in the immediate glares from her fellow villagers. The question was innocent, but L hastily withdrew it, and I cringed, watching her feel the lashes under her clothing.
"What's wrong?" I asked her. "Everything okay?"
She parted the tangled hair away from her eyes and dimly smiled back. "Good, mister. Fine, mister."
"She's healthy, Mr. Fox," added Madam B. "Now, you have inquired about us, you've accepted our hospitality, and eaten your fill. Tell us about yourself. We women would like to hear more. Have you ever climbed before? There's a good start!"
"I've never climbed," I answered, thinking it wise not to press more attention onto L. "In my day, I'd use a car for the steeper hills."
"Car?" pried a puzzled-looking brunette.
"Like a horseless wagon,” I explained, forgetting that some if not all of these women passed long before the invention of the automobile. “It's got four wheels and an engine to power it."
"Sounds complicated!" said Madam B, to further snickering.
"There are harder things in life, I guess. A friend once told me that the world is made up of tiny miracles. Now, you take a whole village, and all the women pregnant, that's a lot of miracles to go around. Wouldn't you say?"
"We are blessed!" said Madam B. "Mysterious fate has brought us women together to bear our children. Here we are, safe and happy in that endeavor. Do you have children of your own, Mr. Fox?"
All of a sudden, I was mentally pulled out of this murky village and myself. No dizzy spell from a returning migraine, this was something deeper, like a blood illness. I was dumbstruck by a question I could not remember, and as these women awaited my answer, I could only stare at the empty dinner plate under my nose.
"Are you well, Mr. Fox? Mr. Fox?"
I held a blink and the image of Kathy for several seconds before hauling my mind back out from its unmarked well. "Fine," I returned, hollow-faced. "I'm fine. Thank you for the meal." I dropped my fork with a clang; dinner was over. Two women removed my plate, and as they waited for Kat to finish, I attempted to regain my mental place before an odd moment washed me over with amnesia.
The head instantly returned to my shoulders upon witnessing Madam B bend and whisper into L's ear. Something short and to the point was said, something that delicate silly girl did not ever want to hear.
"Madam B?" I grumbled. "This village is the safest place in the Distinct Earth, why is that? I see no men to ward off trouble. Or am I…being sexist?"
"You're being something!" blurted one.
"Your attitude is prehistoric," said Madam B, composed. "We women are quite capable of handling trouble, whatever form trouble takes. Men allow emotions to rule them; their presence here would only disrupt the balance. It's my job to keep the continuity, and we don't need men to maintain that."
"So?" I asked, suppressing a laugh. "How the hell do you get pregnant?"
Like a game of tennis, all eyes followed the ball back to Madam B, but I spoke before she could return it. "Pardon me, ladies, please. I do appreciate your hospitality, and I am not saying you need men, it's just that I see vulnerable, pregnant women here with no obvious fence or defenses around their village. Surely, in a realm like this one it would be wise to be prepared for danger? Alert at least, for your babies’ sake?"
Still indifferent, Kat continued shoveling food into his mouth. Perhaps he already knew these answers.
"No one would dare hurt us!" stirred the passionate redhead. "They wouldn't dare it!"
"Why not?" I pressed her. "What's so special about you?"
Madam B's mask was gone, leaving an ugly frown for a face. "You may not see our defenses," she cried, "but they do exist! We are a peaceful community, Mr. Fox; we do not cause trouble and we do not seek it. Most wander the Distinct Earth with no purpose, but here everyone has a purpose, and everybody is safe!"
"Safe?" I mocked. "You lash the shit out of these women and call that safe? What if a wizard were to enter your village, bog pigs, flying birds, or Christ knows fucking what else!"
"You've said enough!" exclaimed Madam B, seething. "We no longer wish to spend time in your company! The sensible thing would be to return to your bed and lock yourself there till morning…that would be the sensible thing."
Insolently, I knocked any nearby goblets or plates aside. "I've been threatened before lady, and candy coated or not, they all sound the same to me! Just what the fuck is going on here? Stop the charade, cause it's making me sick, or is that the meal I just forced into my stomach?"
Consenting disgust filled the air, and all of the women, L included, left the table in a hurry. "How about some honesty?" I yelled at their backs. "What are you crazy people hiding?"
Approaching Kat, a hot-faced Madam B was the last of them left at a table of dirty plates. "A length of rope seems to have gone missing from the supply shed, samurai. Sometime today, in fact. Have you come across it on your wanderings at all?"
Kat shook his head at her question or accusation, and Madam B wished him a pleasant night, but only him. Finally finished with his food, the samurai slid an empty plate to one side and scowled my way.
"What?" I shrugged. "Can't I get a straight answer?"
"Can't you shut your mouth?”
7. Hell In The Barn
With the early hours came a fog swooning down from the mountain. His stomach full, a snoring Kat crouched in the corner of our shack, his right hand hanging like a dead weight over his katana.
Madam B said the sensible thing would be to lock myself here until the morning. I thought about it, and I knew I could walk away from this village, and forget their pregnant bellies and peculiar behavior; it wasn't my problem. Unfortunately, inquisitiveness flows through every detective's blood. The white house intrigued me most, and that is where I would start the investigation.
Getting up from the mattress, I pondered waking Kat, but the idea passed as soon as it arrived. The man cared only for himself, and I already could imagine what he would say: "Remain where you are! Do not disobey me!" or something along those lines. Thus, with care and time taken over each step, I left the shack and a slumbering samurai behind.
Outside, a crystallized frost over everything reminded me of winter in Ontario.
Torches long burnt out, I moved fast, rubbing my ar
ms and shrinking past shadowy hovels, unknowing if anyone was watching from those dark windows. Mud sank and molded around my footsteps as I arrived at the now-empty dinner table, cleared of goblets, cutlery, and plates, with morsels left to the rats. I had to erase the memory of that meal, the food, and company. Why did I have to open my damn mouth?
Creeping toward the white house, I could not stop my teeth from chattering, and felt for the expecting women over my trail. Safe, sure, but happy?
Shrouded in fog, I set my back against a wall of the house, watching the village twinkling in that ghostly vapor. A window blurred bright orange from over my shoulder, so I shuffled nervously toward it. I wanted to heat my hands over the hot glass, but voices beyond those hanging red curtains snapped me from the lure. There were long, distressing moans and desperate panting breaths followed by a terrible, high-pitched wailing.
"Push! Push!"
On tiptoes, I stretched to the windowsill for a look inside, and squinting past curtains, I witnessed the back of a wide woman bent over a bedside. "Push!" she cried again. "Time to push, dearie!"
My guts, or humanity maybe, told me to forget the spy game, to haul ass inside and offer what help I could. I listened to my instinct, ran up the white porch, and pulled back the main door with not a squeak from the hinges. It was an open living space lit beautifully with candles, and that wave of heat caused me to tingle. My presence went unseen at the door as the chill thawed from my face. I saw simple but comfortable furniture before a modest fireplace, and the back of Madam B and another over a bedside, aiding a screeching redhead in labor.
My creak on a floorboard alerted Madam B, who turned, flustered, her two hands hanging like dog paws in front of her. "Is there anything I can do?" I asked, sincerely.
She watched me there for a long second, as if wondering what to do with me. A pale and congealed liquid oozed like fat from her fingertips, and the other women passed her a towel to dry them. "I asked you to stay in the shack!" said Madam B finally, more desperate than angry. "Go back now, Mr. Fox. Before it's too late!"
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