Netted- Inside Out

by K T Rose

  Father Paul is always watching.

  Chapter Four

  They sat in the forest near a wooden guard outpost that was the size of a port-a-potty at the county fair. Jessica had no idea how far back the main road was, but the thick tree line behind and ahead stood in rows against the sides of the narrow gravel road that seemed endless and dead. There were only small snow flurries that danced around the SUV before everything else sunk into the night, a nearly invisible vastness. It was just as dead as the road out front of Granny’s house. Jessica wanted to ask how many acres Father Paul owned, but she knew better than to pry. Anything for Hazel and St. Pete to keep their snarky threats away from her worked out just fine in the silence.

  Hazel pulled a flashlight from the dashboard and flashed it three times, aiming it at the windshield and toward the compound which sat deeper into the woods.

  The cold crept through branches and across Jessica’s face. She wanted to whine about the windows being down in the back. But she sat silent, hoping Uni would wake from her deep sleep and scream for help. As if anyone would come anyway. She was in Father Paul’s country. It was much too late to try to get away. Perhaps she was better off sleeping.

  Hazel looked over her shoulder. “Blaze is on her way to get you. When you get on the compound, go straight to Father Paul, understand?”

  Jessica looked over her shoulder at Uni. “Where are you taking her?” she asked.

  “I’ll be taking her to the barn. Hazel here has to get a hot chocolate for her favorite minion,” St. Pete said. “Isn’t that funny? Blaze is your minion, but you go out your way to make sure she gets her bonbons and chocolate milk. Do you tuck her in too?”

  Hazel sighed. “She’s just a kid, St. Pete. I’m just proud of her, that’s all. She’s the best guard we have, and I’d like to show her our appreciation.”

  “Nah. Domo. He doesn’t say much, and he is a killer shot with the pistol. I seen him shoot a deer from about fifty feet. A bullet to the lung… the thing was out.”

  “Well if it’s a good shot we’re talking about, then Orion’s got it. Remember that time he went out to recruit and he subdued the target when she came after him with a butcher knife? Hole right between the eyes. One shot.”

  “I guess you got it there,” St. Pete said. “Have you seen him on the shooting range? The guy is sick with a rifle. He can shoot his target with a blindfold on. No shit. We were out there fucking around one day and all I’m going to say is that I had to pay him five hundred bucks on a bet I lost, horribly. Olive knows about it. He didn’t use it but he was out there pointing it at you and Dale that night! I bet his tanned face was seriously scary behind that thing. Ooow wee. I’d hate to be anyone on the opposite side of his barrel.”

  Hazel scoffed. “Yeah. It was cold as shit that night.” She looked over her shoulder. “I kind of hoped your friend, Dale, tried blasting his way out. That way, I wouldn’t have to deal with you now. You’d be another blood smear on the floor of this compound. Gone and forgotten. Just like Dale.”

  Jessica rolled her eyes.

  A short blink signaled from deep in the woods.

  “Alright, looks like they’re on their way then. Finally. Slow fuckers,” St. Pete said.

  Jessica shivered. “How long?”

  “Oh, here she goes with the questions again,” St. Pete said.

  “Straight to Paul,” Hazel repeated.

  “Fine,” Jessica said.

  “Ugh. You sure you’re not a moron?” St. Pete asked.

  ***

  Jessica groaned as she passed her room and peered up the staircase. Billy stood at the top, staring down at her. His freckled face scowled hard as if to say she wasn’t welcome any further. Behind him, Father Paul’s door remained shut. A violin ran on and on from one of his classical tracks. She could picture him ballroom dancing back there, swaying and strumming at the air as he did on the show. The difference, she hoped, was that he was alone. She sighed. She’d had her a fair share of violence for the day. The mere thought of witnessing someone else’s pain sent a wave of exhaustion through her bones.

  She stepped up, knowing that Billy would move. But he only stood there and stared hard at her. A lot like the looks the kids at Quaker High gave her when she passed by them, heading to class. That’s if they bothered to look at her at all.

  But Billy didn’t move. His glacial eyes only squinted. She pouted.

  “Well, are you going to move?” she asked with a sharp sneer.

  He smirked.

  “If you have a problem with me, we can talk about it now.” She raised her voice. She had a rough day and the last thing she needed was shit from him.

  The door swung open and both Billy and Jessica looked Father Paul in the face as he crossed his arms over his silk crimson pajama top.

  “What’s going on out here? Olive, I’ve been waiting for you.”

  “I’m coming,” she said.

  Billy stepped aside.

  “Now, Billy, is that a way to treat your sister?”

  Billy sighed. “No. I didn’t know she had your permission to be up here, Father Paul. I’m sorry.”

  Father Paul smirked. “Ah, dear Billy, always looking out for my best interests. But we’re fine. You can go. Make sure you have your note, you got that?”

  Billy nodded and pushed past Jessica. He stepped slowly down the creaking steps, watching his feet as he went. Defeat marked over his slumped shoulders and bobbed head.

  “Come on, come on, I have something for you,” Father Paul said.

  Jessica entered the room and went wide-eyed. It could’ve been an antique museum or a time capsule with artifacts from every generation. Earth could send this room out into the cosmos and it would be a swell representation.

  Father Paul stepped over to the golden record player and pulled the needle from the record. It stopped abruptly. He chuckled as Jessica nearly walked on her toes. She’d never seen a 3D floor before. Online, sure. But this was trippy. The floor looked like they were staring down the trunk of a tree at the backs of deer, squirrels and white rabbits as they stood in place.

  “Have a look around! I know it’s your first time up here,” he said, pouring a drink in a golden cup encrusted with multicolored gems. She was sure it was the missing Holy Grail. Her eyes caught the wall to the right of his huge bed. Ruby red and golden guitars hung alongside a silver violin. No small specs stood out like the one in the SUV or the house out in Sparta. They were alone. Or more like she was alone with the eye of the eagle himself.

  “Done?” Father Paul asked anxiously. “Sit, sit.”

  She sank into a golden recliner which was propped up against a golden table. Jessica took care not to move too much as the thing may’ve been older than Granny.

  Granny. She truly missed stroking the woman’s graying crown and fetching her diet pop. She wondered what Granny was doing at that very moment. Maybe crying herself to sleep…over me.

  Father Paul set a silver platter on the table and removed the lid. On it was a chocolate cake. The face of a guitar sat in the center with music notes coming from the vibrating cords. One of the notes was shaped like the number sixteen and in gray letters the rest of the notes read, Happy Birthday, Olive.

  “Uh. Thank you.” She smiled a little.

  “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”

  With the commotion surrounding her life, she’d forgotten that her birthday was the very day Marla was buried, three weeks ago.

  “Chocolate is still your favorite, right?”

  “Yeah, how did you—”

  “It’s my job to know.” He picked up a cake slicer and neatly separated the six of the sixteen from the rest of the cake. He removed it, set it on a silver plate, then placed it in front of her.

  “Dig in.” He placed a silver fork in her slice. Then he sliced himself a piece. “Chocolate is a weakness of mine too. Mm.” He took a bite.

  She did the same and the bittersweet dark chocolate made her mouth water as it melted on her to
ngue. Rich and bold flavors took her taste buds on a journey. Her eyes flickered as she breathed deep. It had been more than two weeks since chocolate graced her tongue, and this had to be the best chocolate ever.

  “You like it? Mercury used dark chocolate that we got in from Zurich.”

  “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” she said, taking another bite.

  “Good.” He pulled a silk handkerchief from his breast pocket and tapped at his lips. “So, what did you think of your first assignment?”

  She shrugged. “It went as it went.”

  He scoffed. “You know, I’m impressed. Clearly in the beginning you were out of touch with the girl Uni was baited with. Even Techy held his breath as you botched the story we’ve given her.”

  Her face scorched from embarrassment. She frowned.

  “What is it, Olive?”

  “I didn’t know anything about Uni.”

  “Because you didn’t ask.”

  “I didn’t know what to ask.”

  “And that’s where you got low marks. You did all the talking. But eventually, you rebounded. Found out that she was there to be friendly. Not get laid. And for that…”

  He stood from his seat and walked into the closet next to his bed, passing dingy, beige maps with inked marks and words in a different language. Next to those stood five mannequins wearing suits and wigs from different eras of time. Silk to suede, cashmere to mink, a lot like the kings and earlier presidents would wear in the pictures of history books. The room was worth more than everyone’s life on the compound put together.

  He came back with a wade of cash. “Here.”

  Jessica gasped while chewing her cake. “I’ve never had this much money.”

  “And there’s plenty more where that came from.”

  “I mean, I feel like I don’t need this much, Father Paul. I can’t…can I send it to my grandmother?”

  “Absolutely. Wonderful idea! I’ll have Hazel send it right out.”

  “Can I write her a letter, tell her I’m okay?”

  “No. Absolutely not,” he said, his smile fading.

  “I’m sorry, I just want her to know that I’m okay.”

  He glowered at her as he stuck his index fingertip between his teeth. “Hmm. Do you want to go back home, Olive?”

  “No,” she said quickly. Unease rattled her bones as she felt his death stare burn her skin.

  “Sending letters is a good way to bring Morgan here. Do you want Morgan here?”

  She shook her head. Morgan. Morgan. She’d heard that name before.

  “Morgan would have this fucking place crawling with agents and spies, hell-bent on dragging me to jail. Is that what you want?”

  “No! Never, Father Paul.”

  “Good.” His smile returned. “I had to be sure. He’s been up my ass for decades now and I’ll be damned if I die in prison. That asshole will send me back to California the first chance he gets. They’d stick me right in that chair. And before that, they’d make me rot for decades before going through with the deed. There’s no way I’ll reach my goals if that happened. It would impede on my work.”

  She frowned.

  “Olive, do you know my purpose here? My service to you all?”

  “Huh?”

  “It’s a simple question with a complex answer.”

  She dug around her mind, searching for a clear answer. But everything was jumbled between his performances, his lashing out on his own people, Dale and freedom. “You offer us freedom from the persecutions of the real world.”

  “Hmm. That’s partly right.” He cleared his throat. “I take people away from false beliefs forced on their lives. Why work your flesh to the bone only for most of your wages to go to the government’s debts? Why pick a religion or join a congregation full of hypocrites that piss on you when you’re down? Why feel unsafe next to your neighbor? Why be pressured into looking or feeling a certain way by the satanic media? People should be living to die. I know this because God told me himself. He was a bright light, staining my sights with his glory. In a deep voice, he told me that I was special, and he showed me my future beyond this life.”

  “Oh?” Intrigue furrowed her brow.

  “Yes. You see my initiation started back in 1989, when I was eighteen, working my soul away at an automotive parts factory in order to put food on the table for my very young and very sick child. It was horrid. I’d wake up at five in the morning, instruct the babysitter, Matilda, on how and what to feed Kaycee, go into work, sweat my ass off in a ninety-degree factory as we broke steel down and molded them into parts, then head back home to take care of my child. Being a single father was the hardest thing I’ve had to do to this day. Anyway, one day, I came home from work, only to find Matilda trying to resuscitate Kaycee, whose skin was corroded in pox from that dreaded measles virus. Angry and confused, I took my daughter between my arms, rushed her to the passenger seat of my Escort, and drove. By God, did I drive. I was so panicked and afraid for Kaycee that I didn’t have time to wait for the train to pass by, so I attempted to beat it, and it mangled my vehicle, along with my nine-month-old. As I laid in that hospital bed with a hemorrhaged brain and broken limbs, I begged for death. There was no reason to live. I'd lost everything. What was life without my Kaycee? The only thing that made sense? How was I to live without her one-toothed big smile between her chubby cheeks? She looked every bit like her mother, deep green eyes and all. She was such a happy child before the sickness took her.” Father Paul looked off with a faint smile. His memory had him. Jessica didn’t say a word, she let him have his moment.

  He cleared his throat and went on. “My grandmother was long gone, just as Grandpa and Kaycee's mother thought it more fitting to live in Mexico, whoring around Cancun. I was alone. Broken, soul shattered, and will depleted. Done. I wanted my brain to rupture so that loss and regret couldn’t hurt me anymore. That’s when God came to me and his deep voice shook the pit of my soul. He told me I wasn’t done and that he had a special job for me. I begged him to take me away instead, that without Kaycee, I was nothing and wanted nothing more than to die. But he told me that wasn’t an option and that I needed to do as he said as I had defied all the rules. I wasn’t supposed to survive that train crash. I was supposed to die right there with Kaycee. But for some reason, I was impervious to the Grim Reaper as he stood over the crash. My soul wouldn’t leave with him because… I am to be him.”

  A tear fell loose from his wet eyes. “As this only happens once every few centuries, God knew and said he knew, that it was time. Time for a change. Time for the new soul taker to rise. He told me to send him one thousand lives to be sure I was immune to a promise we all made from birth and that I must die naturally with a whole heart and a pure mind, surrounded by the souls of those who loved me the most. And Olive I still have a ways to go; eight hundred and forty-seven bodies and counting. God warned me that many will try to stop me, impede on my progress. And he also said there would be many that will cheer me on and push me forward. God, himself, promised to raise those up high when we cross over. Those people, you all, will be placed in a personal heaven, where death will be nothing but a whimsical dream full of love, understanding, and appreciation: pure, unadulterated happiness. I will send you all on your way there as I wait between the realms, delegating and guiding souls to where they need to be. And as for the current Grim Reaper, Smierc, Mot, Yama or whatever you want to call him, he’d better put his money where his mouth is because there is only room for one. And that will be me.”

  Jessica’s chest rattled as thoughts flew around her mind, one hundred miles a minute. She was sure that she’d been hearing things, but Father Paul’s straight face and sullen voice spoke real seriousness. She wanted to ask: Are you fucking insane? But instead, she swallowed hard. If anyone was insane, it had to be herself for thinking this was a place to be of all places; that is until she finally made it here.

  “You will die a happy girl, Olive. Just as everyone else here will.”
>
  “How can you be sure? I mean. What if… it’s not real?”

  He snickered. “You see, ancient myths say that if you take many lives before the faces of other, this will grant you the position of the life taker or the Grim Reaper. The time of death is a special time, where you are surrounded by those who love you most as their souls praise and lift you up until your departure to the other realm is complete. So you see, where many people are afraid of death, I accept and welcome it with an open heart and a ready mind. It isn’t till death when I land on my feet and truly start to live. That won’t happen if Morgan is around or worse, if they take you all away from me. You all need me and I need you. A well-oiled machine can’t run without the operator.”

  She lowered her head. “I’m sorry for asking.”

  “Apology accepted.”

  He stood, brushed a few crumbs from his silk pants, and walked toward the window. He pulled the cord to the blinds, opening the room up to the full moon. “Do you know why I call you Olive?”

  “Because you like olives?”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, well there’s that of course. But the meaning behind your name. It stems from my childhood. My Grandmother Marla used to eat them like they were potato chips, chomping them down nonstop one after the other. When she wasn’t looking, I tried one and I almost gagged. The bitter, sour mush rubbed between my teeth like a tire on the road. My face curled and twisted, and I spat it out and vowed never to eat it again, until the next time Grandma turned her back. For some reason, it became second nature to dig into that jar and shove one or two in my mouth. It was as if I wanted to like them, then I realized, I needed them. I had to have them, for they made me strong and impervious to disliking anything ever again as my tongue became numb. They were Popeye’s spinach. The horse’s hay. The poor man’s dream.”

  He pulled a mirror from the wall and returned to Jessica. He leaned in and wrapped an arm around her neck, capturing them both in the mirror. The bleached highlights in her hair made her want to gag. But this was who Father Paul wanted her to be. Stay in your lane, she reminded herself.