Satanic Summer

by Andersen Prunty

  When Lurk, Patrick Crayze, and a couple of really high girls showed up, Crank sent Lurk out to make some fliers and post them around town. He never came back and that didn’t surprise Crank at all, since he was kind of shocked Lurk had been conscious when he showed up. They continued with the band practice anyway. Lurk wasn’t completely central to their sound. The girls took off their clothes and danced around. Crank’s mom showed up just before dusk, hopped up on something, and proceeded to take laps around the trailer, her eyes bugging out, her starched hair clumping out behind her head. Crank was worried she might have a heart attack but when she got tired she went inside and fell asleep on the couch.

  After Patrick Crayze and the girls went home, Crank called Amber and told her he was sleeping in a tent in her back yard. She said her parents were out of town so he could sleep in the house. So he brought his tent and set it up in the living room.

  Forty-four

  Doug took a scalding shower and put on clean clothes. He took the clothes he wore yesterday and put them into a trash bag. He turned on his computer and restored it to its factory condition. He no longer had any use for it. He unhooked it from the wall and put it in the trash bag with the clothes. He dusted the computer desk and put his Bible on it. He took the trash bag downstairs and put it in front of his mother, who was on the couch cutting her thick yellow toenails, a cigarette dangling from her mouth.

  “I’d like you to burn the clothes and donate the computer to the thrift store.”

  “Aren’t you going to need it?”

  “If I need one, I can go to the library. I’d prefer not to have it in my room.”

  “It would help with college if you decide to go.”

  “It’s like having a den of sin in my room, Mom. No good Christian should have one of these in his home. Especially not if it’s connected to the Internet.” Then he pointed at the television, which was on. “Or one of those.”

  “I’m not getting rid of my TV.”

  “Use it responsibly.” Doug went back up to his room. It seemed lighter and airier. Roomier. More pure.

  He lay on his bed and crossed his hands over his chest.

  Tomorrow he would go to work and give Patel his two weeks’ notice. He would call around town looking for another job. Working at the library would be pretty cool, he thought, except it would be kind of the same thing as working at Patel’s because he would be renting them smut for their minds, instead of their bodies. And they wouldn’t even be paying for it. So that was out. He could work for the Church but he didn’t think he could take any money for that. Maybe he could see if Pastor Don owned any more businesses in town. At least then, he would know his work was for a decent and God-fearing person. He could work at the cemetery digging graves or something. It would be grim but it was all a part of life and it did have a spiritual element to it.

  He would just have to wait and see. God would provide.

  Besides his mother, there were really only three other people he dealt with on a social basis: Crank, Mindy, and Whitney. Clover was a small town. He wasn’t self-delusional enough to think he could go the rest of his life without seeing Crank and Whitney. Mindy, he couldn’t wait to finally see at her ceremony. He tried not to think of her so it would be even more special when he finally did get to see her. Crank and Whitney were a different matter altogether. Doug knew he had a tendency to be spiteful and he knew that was probably wrong. Although he personally didn’t see anything wrong with it if the spite’s intention was to keep his spiritual well-being intact. Regardless, he could not let that spite blossom into hate. Therefore, when he ran into either of them again (it was inevitable, especially while he continued to work at the Pantry), he needed to nip the relationships in the bud before they became something more menacing. Besides being neighbors and his brief lapse in moral judgment, he wasn’t that really close to Whitney. Despite her willingness to take his penis into her mouth and do even more if he had been able, she didn’t seem to really like him very much. So he thought if he told her it was best they didn’t really talk or “hang out” anymore, she would understand. She would probably be angry. She seemed angry a lot. He would just have to tell her he was involved with another woman and definitely could no longer do anything like they had again. Maybe he could tell her if she wanted to become a churchgoer they could continue to talk so long as they were talking about God and Jesus and good things that strengthened the moral fiber. Wholesome activities. Crank was a slightly different matter. He had been friends with Crank for a long time but they had... grown apart. That’s really all it came down to. Crank was a twelve-year-old boy with the freedoms and physicality of an adult. Doug hoped Crank was capable of good things but he didn’t think they could be friends until Crank decided to respect Doug and maybe, well, grow up a little bit. Crank wouldn’t like to hear that but he didn’t get mad very easily and despite his eagerness to offend Doug at every chance, he did respect Doug to a certain extent. Maybe he realized Doug was more grown up, more adult than he was. In the end, Doug didn’t really look forward to either of these encounters but he knew he had the strength to deal with them. And that was something.

  Doug closed his eyes and took several deep even breaths. He felt a calm and peaceful easiness spread out from his chest completely unlike the spinning chaos he’d felt the couple times he’d gone to bed with his head full of drink. Drifting off, he had the sense his body and his spirit were healing, becoming not only what they were but something even more connected and complete. He dreamed of blue skies and clouds, running streams and clear sunlight.

  Forty-five

  Mindy was furious. “What do you mean you don’t have any?”

  “Just what I said. Y’all done run us out,” the man from Baal’s said on the other end of the line.

  “Well where else are we going to get a fucking goat?”

  “Probably nowhere this hour.”

  “We need something living.”

  “Look, I don’t know what y’all are doin up there but whatever it is I’m sure it can wait.”

  “What we’re doing isn’t any of your business. What else can you bring us?”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  “What else can you bring us? Do you just deliver goats? I’m sure you can get something else.”

  “I’m starting to feel uncomfortable.”

  “We pay you don’t we?”

  “The Church pays me. I’m assuming whatever you’re doing is for a good cause.”

  “That’s exactly right. A very good cause. The whole town’s well-being hinges on it. So you’d better bring us something. I’ll make it very worth your while.”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line.

  “Hello?”

  “It might take a little longer.”

  “I’m not going to ask any questions. Just so long as we have something before dawn. Think you can manage that?”

  “Doesn’t sound like I have much of a choice. Where am I taking it?”

  “The Tabernacle.”

  “Someone’ll be there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay.”

  Mindy angrily poked her phone off.

  “Well?” Kristen said.

  “He’s bringing something.”

  “I guess we’d better get out there, huh? Are we picking up the crazy bitch?”

  “I can live without it.”

  “I do enjoy her sexual energy.”

  “Fine. We’ll vote. Angie?”

  “I thought the sex stuff was over anyway.”

  “We’re just not allowed to fuck anything with a cock,” Mindy said.

  “Sure,” Angie said. “We can swing by her house. Foursies is better than threesies.”

  Mindy rolled her eyes. “Let’s go then.”

  They headed out and hopped in Kristen’s red convertible and drove to Amanda’s. They pulled into her driveway and Mindy said, “I’m not going to get her.”

  “You’re such a brat,” Kristen said, sliding out f
rom behind the wheel and walking to Amanda’s door. She didn’t see any lights on but rang the bell. After a few minutes Officer Viled opened the door. He was completely naked, his chest covered in deep red welts. He smelled heavily of sex. He absently stroked himself and stared at Kristen.

  “Officer Viled?”

  “I’m off duty.”

  “Is Amanda around?”

  “She’s resting up.”

  Kristen wasn’t expecting this. She thought Amanda would answer the door and come with them with the same eager zeal she had in the past. “Okay, well, if she wakes up can you tell her that we’ll be at the Tabernacle if she wants to meet us there.”

  Officer Viled glanced over Kristen’s shoulder at the two other girls in the car. “You girls are welcome to bring the party here if that’s what you were planning on doing.”

  “I’m sorry. We really have to be at the Tabernacle. It’s church stuff.”

  “I see.” He turned away absently and shut the door.

  Kristen shrugged and went back to the car. “No Amanda,” she said.

  “Was that—?”

  “Office Viled. What a creep.”

  Kristen peeled out of the driveway and gunned the car through the neighborhood. She cranked the stereo. She had a great recording of Charlton Heston reading the Bible backmasked, with synth music and a drumbeat. The band was called, appropriately, Fucking Heston’s Corpse, and it was one of her current favorites. The other girls didn’t complain. It only took about ten minutes to get to the Tabernacle. They threw open the door and the pungent smell of death wafted out.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” Angie said.

  “You are not going to be sick,” Mindy said. “That is the sweet smell of sacrifice.”

  “There’s nothing sweet about it.”

  “You just earned ten lashes.”

  Angie stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. They entered the Tabernacle, its walls and floor slathered with the congealing mess of their previous sacrifices. There were now maggots and flies everywhere. Mindy, for one, was grateful Pastor Don had allowed them to move things to the Tabernacle. Cleaning up the house had been a bitch. Of course she realized that Pastor Don only acted on orders from that higher power. Unfortunately they wouldn’t see him until the ceremony on Friday. Mindy couldn’t wait. He would be so happy to see the work they had done.

  “Kristen, you light the candles. I’ll take care of Angie’s punishment.”

  Kristen went about lighting the candles. Mindy told Angie to take off her clothes, which she did obediently.

  “Now put your hands against the wall.”

  Angie put her hands against the wall and stuck out her ass. Mindy didn’t have a whip so she smacked her ten times, five on each cheek, until her hand stung as badly as Angie’s red ass probably did. When the man from Baal’s finally got there, Mindy made Angie answer the door naked.

  Angie pulled the door open. Kristen and Mindy stood farther back in the room, giggling and blood thirsty. Angie did her best to cover herself. The man from Baal’s made no attempt to look away. In his hands he held a chicken, proffering it forward for Angie to take. Mindy’s laughs turned into immediate rage as she stormed across the room, standing between Angie and the deliveryman.

  “Enjoy the show?” she said.

  “Huh?”

  “That was probably more skin than you’ve seen in the last ten years.” Mindy poked the chicken’s head and said, “What the hell is this?”

  “It’s a chicken.”

  “Yes, but why are you standing there holding it with that stupid look on your face?”

  “It’s the only thing I could get.”

  “This isn’t acceptable.”

  “You asked for anything.”

  “Yes, but... Oh shit. Step in for a minute.”

  The man rumpled his nose. “I think I’m fine out here.”

  Mindy turned toward Angie. “Take your hands away. If he tries to look around them any harder he’s going to have a heart attack.”

  Angie took her hands away from her breasts and in front of her crotch and let them hang by her sides.

  The deliveryman continued to hold the chicken and stare stupidly at her, as though he wasn’t in the midst of an argument. Now Mindy put her hand on his shoulder and coaxed him inside. With Angie in her current state, it wasn’t very hard.

  “Just come in and give me a second to figure something out.”

  Mindy moved between him and the door.

  “Angie,” Mindy said. “Service this man while I think of something else to do. This chicken isn’t going to work.”

  Angie moved forward. Mindy heard the man gulp.

  “You can put down the chicken.”

  He put down the chicken. Angie dropped to her knees in front of him and unzipped his pants. The man was hugely erect. Probably had been since he’d received the call from Mindy. Angie wrapped her hand around the base of his shaft and almost took it into her mouth before stopping and saying, “I didn’t think we were supposed to do this. Only with each other. Right? Isn’t that what you said?”

  “You don’t have to fuck him,” Mindy said. “Just blow him and let him come on your tits or something.”

  Angie took him into her mouth, slowly working her lips down the length of the deliveryman’s shaft. Mindy picked up the sacrificial knife. She could have picked up an active tornado siren and the deliveryman wouldn’t have noticed. She crossed the room to where Angie had him in her mouth, quickly and deftly wrapped her free arm around his chest and upper arms, and sliced with the hand holding the sacrificial knife. A fount of blood shot across the room and drenched Angie’s back and the top of her head. Mindy stood out of the way and allowed the deliveryman to fall to the floor. Angie stood up, gagging. She coughed and said, “Oh, the fucker shot in my mouth.”

  “Grow up,” Mindy said, letting the knife clatter onto the floor.

  The man’s legs spasmed and the other two girls disrobed before moving in to bathe in the last of his dying blood.

  The chicken stood in the corner, horrified, until later when the girls closed in on it too.

  Thursday June 19 th

  Forty-six

  Doug gathered the tracts and put them into a large paper grocery bag. He didn’t even know if there were this many people in Clover. Not that he would have the time to visit every house. But it was best to be prepared. And some of the people he visited would probably want pamphlets to give to their friends. He thought this would be a good exercise. So busy with his senior year of high school and graduation, he hadn’t done this in over a year. Someone at the Church should have put some pressure on him. Since working at America Pantry, his only experience with the people of Clover was to sell them things that would either rot their bodies or the environment.

  As he crossed the living room to the front door his mom asked, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m going visiting.” The explanation was very easy and only took a second. Yet this was the kind of response he would have felt exhausted to give and even gone out of his way to avoid only a couple of days before.

  “Visiting?”

  “Yeah, handing out the tracts like we used to. Want to come along?”

  “Maybe you should just stay home.”

  “No. I think I need to do this. Really, come along.”

  “I’ve got my shows.”

  “DVR them. Are your shows more important than your god?”

  “You sure are a good kid, Dougie.”

  “Man. I’m a man now.”

  A momentary look of horror crossed his mother’s face and it took Doug a second to realize why.

  He laughed and said, “I don’t mean like that. Not until I’m married. But I am eighteen and therefore have a man’s responsibilities. So what do you think? Coming along?”

  She sighed. “I was really hoping to stay inside in the air conditioning today, but if you’re going to try and make me feel guilty about it...”

  She stood up and moti
oned to her muumuu and slippers. “I guess what I have on is fine.”

  “No reason for vanity amongst neighbors.”

  They walked outside and Doug’s mom went to the car. Doug was already nearly at the sidewalk.

  “Aren’t we walking?”

  “You can do the walking. I’ll follow behind you in the car. It’s hot out here and I’m in no shape to walk all up and down the neighborhood.”

  Doug wanted to say how he thought that kind of defeated the purpose of “visiting”. Maybe if someone invited him in, she would get out of the car and follow him. Who was he to judge?

  As he turned in the opposite direction of Whitney’s and began walking down the sidewalk, he could almost swear he saw Deacon Pork’s Cadillac cruise slowly through the intersection. He went up the walk to Mrs. Sinkwater’s house and rang the bell. While he waited for someone to either come to the door or hide inside, he pulled a tract from his bag.

  The door opened and Mrs. Sinkwater stood there, batting her eyelashes at him. She was probably older than his mother.

  “Oh, hello, Doug!” She reached out and patted him gingerly on the shoulder. “Please come in.”

  She practically yanked him into the house. Now she was very close to him, rubbing her hands on his chest, her face only a couple of inches from his. He could smell the Listerine covering the halitosis reek coming from her mouth. She was making him very uncomfortable.

  “To what do I owe this surprise to?”

  “I don’t...”

  The front door opened and his mother filled the doorway.

  Mrs. Sinkwater quickly backed away from Doug. “Well, hi, Martha, I didn’t realize you were with Doug today.”