Chapter 27
The next few days at the Barstowe household are too quiet. The house had never been lively, but now it's like a tomb. The family-wives appear to be terrified of offending Betsey in any way. They barely say a word, barely chew their food, and barely make any movements on their faces.
Thankfully, I haven't been to any more of their meetings, but I've noticed fresh bruises on the wives. The Mister has definitely been beating them. I just can't understand how this feeling of power that Betsey is surely drunk with can feel better to her than living in a peaceful household? Even if you’re the one making a bigger hole in the rotted boat, you're still one of the ones who are going down with it, aren't you?
In thinking of boats, a memory goes through me. I had ridden in one with my mama. There are so many experiences I went through with her that no longer exist in this world that I'm living in now. Most girls here wouldn't know what a boat is.
I sigh as I continue washing the dishes. The door suddenly opens, and I don't have to turn to know who it is. It's Betsey. I'd know her loud footsteps anywhere. She doesn't walk. She struts.
She strides to where I'm at and puts an empty glass in the soapy water my hands are in. Not saying a single word, she grins with that special smirk of hers. Her unwavering eyes bore into me. They carry a promise. She hasn't forgotten what I did to her at the bathtub. She hates the way the Mister defends me. She despises her lack of control over me.
Revenge.
It's the promise in her eyes. She's waiting for the right moment.
I shove her face out of my head and keep doing my chores. She keeps eyeballing me when we meet in various rooms. I eyeball her back. If she wants to bully me then she has to contend with my own aggression.
In Agatha's bedroom, Betsey drags the wife in as I'm dusting and polishing the furniture. Agatha looks as if she's going to burst into tears.
"Kneel," Betsey yells, pointing in the middle of the room.
Helga obliges, her face in pure anguish.
"You are disobedient and don't give me the proper respect. You will beg me for forgiveness or suffer the consequences in the meeting tonight!"
She does this in every bedroom as I'm cleaning it and with every family-wife. Her message to me is loud and clear. Do what I tell you to do or suffer the consequences.
In the last bedroom, Stacy's one, she goes more bezerk. "You're the worst family-wife in all of Paradise Village!" she roars.
Stacy trembles in fury on the floor as she's kneeling.
"You still haven't realized who rules around here!"
Funny, I thought it was the Mister.
"Your defiant nature is purely from the evil creature!"
"I'm not evil," Stacy returns.
"Stop back-talking me!"
"But--"
"Pray for me to forgive you! Pray!"
I can't keep my mouth shut any longer. "Pray to you? Are you the Great Master?"
"I'm the Great Master's representative on earth," she declares, her face twitching. "Why shouldn't she pray to me?"
"I thought Master Barstowe is the Great Master's representative."
"Yes, and I'm his!" she snaps.
"That doesn't make any sense."
"Is anyone asking your opinion?" she questions furiously.
"No," I simply say.
"Your insubordination to me is unforgivable!"
"I'm just trying to understand why you're so mean to the family-wives."
"I'm not mean!" she roars. "I'm doing what I'm supposed to do and guide them to the Great Master's great love for us!!!"
"The Great Master's love means you haranguing them?"
"Love means discipline!" She's so furious she's about to explode.
"How they chew their food is of great importance to the Great Master?"
Her hand makes a fist, and she shakes it in front of my face. "Respect is of great importance to him!"
"You're making the family-wives respect the Great Master by kneeling to you?"
"I already told you that I'm his representative on earth!"
"I thought you said that Master Barstowe is the representative and you’re his."
She rushes to me as if she's going to smack me with her fist. As soon as she sees my defiant eyes, she knows I'm going to defend myself if she dares lay a finger on me. Instead, she smashes her hand on the powder table I'm next to. Rubbing her hand, she looks as if she's in pain.
"Are you okay?" Stacy asks sarcastically.
That does it for Betsey. She strides over to Stacy, her face in a burning flame. Grabbing fistfuls of hair, she pulls at them with ferocious force. Stacy cries out as she tries to get Betsey off of her.
"Let her go!" I cry out as I rush to Betsey and try to get her to release Stacy's hair.
The door swings open. "What's all this ruckus?" asks an angry Mister. When he sees the scene in front of him, he makes a sound of disbelief. Betsey quickly removes her hands from Stacy's now messy hair, yanking away at what's tangled in her fingers. Stacy gives a small cry when her strands are torn out of her head.
"What's going on here?" he snaps.
"Master Barstowe, I was disciplining these girls. That's all."
"Disciplining?" he asks, his eyes narrowing. "I thought that was my job."
"I didn't want to bother you with such trivial stuff. I thought I'd do it myself."
"Do it yourself?"
"Yes, but Stacy and Monica are not giving me proper respect, so I had to use physical punishment."
"Leave the room, Monica. I'll talk to you later."
I nod but as I'm going toward the door I hear the Mister's club whacking someone. I don't dare turn around to see who he's beating. Cries of pain resonate behind me.
"I'm the only one who can hit my wives," he yells as I open the door. "Betsey, you're overstepping your boundaries!" I step out of the room and walk my shaking body down the stairs.
When I finish cleaning the rest of the house, the Mister sends me a message to meet him in his study. I shudder. I've grown to hate the room after witnessing the interrogations that take place in it. When I clean it, I get in and out as soon as possible. Now it looks like it'll be the place for my own beating. It's my turn.
Expecting to see a clobbered Betsey when I step in, I'm surprised that it's only the Mister. He smiles when he sees me.
"Sit down, Little Bird," he says, indicating the chair in front of his massive, cherry desk. He doesn't have the discipline club anywhere in sight.
I sit down and wait for him to talk to me. It seems he's emotional because it takes him time to do so. I don't understand what's happening and frankly, his silence scares me.
"You can't imagine what happened today," he says excitedly.
I'm pretty sure he's not talking about the situation with Betsey.
"What happened, Master Barstowe?" I ask slowly.
"A miracle from the Great Master."
"A miracle?" I'm not liking this one bit.
"The Great Master is truly good to us," he says with fervor.
"Yes," I mumble.
"He's always looking after our well being."
"Yes," I mumble again.
"Highest Holy Grinder just informed me that Great Master told him we can move up your birthday," he states. "We can get married already!"
Paradise Abductions Page 27