The Doomsday Papers

by JanJan Untamed

  “You didn’t the last time.”

  They’re here to clean the crime scene. How did I forget the body in the living room? I am demoralized. I hear Titus. They are talking about the shooting. The man disrespected him and he shot him. This is his church. No one will tell him how to run it. The men are gathered down the hill waiting for him. What about Duma? My brother offers to take me back to the house with the women for now. No, I’m taking her with me. Give her a few minutes, she’s feeding the baby. I dress in one of my three church approved dresses. I stuff my hair under a bonnet and Jude ties my scarf around my face. He carries the baby despite my protests. Caring for infants is woman’s work. It is hot out here. The sun is beaming down on us like ants under a magnifying glass and heating the air to hell like temperatures. Judea commits the ultimate sin when we stop near the group of men. He kisses me. It doesn’t go unnoticed. He puts Judi in my arms and whispers, I love you, in my ear before turning to address them.

  “You’ve all heard what happened at today’s meeting.”

  “You shot a Deacon for speaking out against your wife.”

  “No, I shot a man for disrespecting me and questioning my authority. I used dimes instead of a shell for disrespecting my wife.”

  “She ran off, Reverend.”

  “So, what? She came back, didn’t she? I’m tired of other men telling me how to treat my wife. She isn’t your concern.”

  “The rules for our women are in place for a reason. Women should be chaste and biddable. They need moral guidance.”

  “Moral guidance? Is that what we are giving them when we sleep with a different one every night? I’m not saying women shouldn’t be chaste. I’m not saying that at all. What I’m saying is this, no one is ever caning my wife or making her kneel in glass again. It’s never going to happen. Her back is already ripped up for smiling during prayer and laughing aloud. The church should be a place of joy and laughter. Not caning and sad looking women.”

  “Reverend, what you speak of is blasphemy.”

  “What I speak of is the truth. This woman cooks for me, cleans, washes my clothes, cares for my child all day and still sees to my needs when the sun goes down. She is my partner in life and my best friend. I don’t speak for your wives but no one is going to tell me to beat on mine. We can’t rebuild a strong church on weak a foundation. We need our women strong and healthy more than ever. Any man found guilty of using unnecessary force or committing violent acts against a woman will be hanged.”

  There is a ripple in the audience. Some speaking quietly. A few are openly hostile.

  “Look around you, Saints. The men arguing and bellyaching are the woman beaters. They’re angry because they’ll get their necks stretched. A hit dog hollers.”

  “Amen, Reverend!”

  “Amen!”

  “I’m sure you have daughters or sisters that you watched take a slap for burning the biscuits. My mother was miserable. I watched her shrivel into a sad, broken, woman with no spirit at all. I like to see my wife smiling, especially in the morning after a long night.” There is a chuckle from the crowd. “If I want to kiss my wife or hold her hand in public, I will. If I want to carry my son or help her with him, I will. This is my son. Mine, and no one is going to tell me how to raise him. He’ll grow up to be a good man and useful to the church. That is what matters. It’s time for the men to start giving our women and children the love and care they need. We can teach them obedience and how to be self-sufficient without breaking their spirits like horses.”

  “Amen, Reverend!”

  The applause surprises us both. Judea keeps speaking in that strong, clear, voice of his and I fall under his spell like the rest of the crowd. He speaks about strengthening our church from the inside out and his goal to better us and he speaks of change and the times. He tells them about the things we saw on the way to Texas. Terrible things. There were good things too. People were helping each other. We are the shepherds and it’s up to us to replenish our flock. The inbreeding is no more. Poking your sisters and cousins is a hanging offense. New bloodlines will strengthen the church.

  “I’m glad somebody finally said it! Amen, Reverend!”

  “He’s talking about giving women the same freedom as men! It’s wrong! I will never bend to the will of a woman! I’ll take my women and leave the church.”

  “You are welcome to leave and your women will be given the choice to stay. Kidnapping is frowned upon in the new church.”

  There are more chuckles and more laughter. He could charm a snake from its charmer. I’m smiling too and no one is calling for my head.

  “When we get back to Texas, you can kiss your wives at the gates.”

  They all laugh again and begin speaking among themselves. Out of the two hundred or more men, only a few are speaking about leaving. Everyone wants him to stay and hear their other concerns and speak more about the new church. I want to take him back to bed with me. He was amazing and it has me all worked up. The way they all listen to him and respect him makes me proud. They look up to him. Their leader. My husband.

  “Titus, please take Duma and the baby back to the house. It’s hot and I don’t want them out here in the sun.”

  I want to tell him that I’m okay but I don’t. I follow my brother up to the house to stay with the women until his meeting is over. I settle in the barn with my son and wait for Judea. My book is here waiting. I lay back and lose myself in the pages.

  “Goodwife? I brought you something to eat. Mr. Hamilton told us to give you space but supper is ready and you’ve been out here all day.”

  I want to be angry and say something nasty because she is pregnant by my husband. Whatever is under the towel smells good and I’m starving so I don’t. She sets it down on the table before hurrying away. Francesca is my favorite of the two. I eat the rabbit stew slowly. She’s an excellent cook and it tastes good. I eat it all and the two oranges are a treat. I bathe my face with cold water from the hose and drink my fill. Belle waves me over to sit with her on the porch. I shake my head no and return to the barn. I like her but I’m not friends with those women. One might be tempted to join us. She joins me in the barn instead. Titus returns for Belle first. Jude wants me to wait here for him to return. He shakes me awake after midnight.

  “Is everything okay?” I ask him rubbing my tired eyes.

  “Everything is fine, Sweetheart. It’s late. I want to get you and Jude to bed.”

  The walk to the neighbor’s house isn’t long. The trail is clear and the moon is high. The only sign of the man Judea killed is the missing chair. It smells like bleach and I am relieved. He gives the baby a bath and settles him in the crib. The windows are wide open and it’s still hot. I am standing here naked like I have the same rights as beautiful women. I’m waiting for my handsome husband to finish his shower like I don’t have skin hanging where it shouldn’t and a ruined smile. I can’t do anything about it. I can’t make any of it go away. I need to accept it because this is who I am. I touch the raised scar absently. Judea slips up behind me and circles my waist with his arms.

  Chapter Thirty

  “You are so beautiful.” He whispers in my ear. “This scar can’t steal that away from you. You are the most beautiful woman in the world, Dumani.”

  “I feel beautiful.”

  “Because you are.”

  “I’m a troublemaker.” I whisper.

  “The old Duma was biddable, sweet, and quiet. I will miss her dearly. Sinner Duma is fucking hot. She sneaks around in nothing but my shirt and calls me foul names. She’s exciting.”

  “Really?”

  “Hell yes. It’s a beautiful thing when you talk dirty to me. I want you to be yourself.”

  “I am afraid of going to hell.”

  “I’m too selfish to let you go to hell, Dumani. I’ll meet the devil with the business end of my shotgun if he shows up. You know how possessive I am.” He kisses me. We are kissing when a knock echoes through the house. What now? Judea gives me a stern
look.

  “It can’t be good this time of night. Arm yourself.”

  “Be careful, please?” I sound desperate.

  “Don’t worry.” Judea hugs me reassuringly. “I’ll always come back to you too.”

  When he comes back, he starts dressing in full gear. I’m alarmed. What happened?

  “A few of the men came down with a fever tonight. I’m going down to set up a quarantine to make sure it doesn’t kill off everyone. No one wants to touch them.”

  “You shouldn’t be dealing with the sick. What if you get it?”

  “I’ve had it and I burned our dead the same as you. I didn’t get it twice. The suit is to protect Judi. I don’t want to bring it back to him.”

  “Maybe he’s immune like me?”

  “Let’s pray he is.”

  “Are you sure about this? I should go instead.” It makes more sense. He ignores me.

  “Shoot anyone that knocks on the door. I don’t feel comfortable leaving you here alone.”

  “I’ll take the baby and go wait with your other women again.”

  “Dumani.” Jude says patiently. “Don’t do this right now.”

  “Do what?” I challenge.

  “Nothing.” He says tiredly. “Let’s go.” Jude sets us up in the barn.

  “I don’t know what I’m walking into down there. Whatever happens, I want you know that I love you and my son more than anything. If I come back, give me time to make things right. That’s all I ask, Dumani. I need time to fix this mess.”

  He doesn’t wait for an answer. Judea kisses me and walks away. I watch him leave with a heavy heart. Please be okay. It’s my worst nightmare come to life. I begin to worry when the second day passes. Then the third day goes by and a fourth. They could all be dying right now. I want to see him to make sure he’s okay. What about my brother? I can help. What if everyone is dead? That’s why I stay where I am. Judi’s safety comes first. We clean and sing and I read to him aloud. I play with him and worry about my love. I don’t hear anything for eight days. When Judea finally walks into the house, he smells like soap and a hint of bleach. We hold each other for a long time. Judea. We cry openly without shame. We are together again.

  “It was bad, Dumani. We lost a hundred and fifty men.”

  “Titus?”

  “He’s been holed up with the women. They’re fine.”

  I push him away from me. I watch him act confused. I’m so angry right now that I could scream. I don’t show it. I don’t let on how pissed off I am.

  “I didn’t ask about them. Why did you stop there first?”

  “Their house was closer. Why does it matter?” His arms come around me again.

  “It matters because we are here. Why didn’t you come to us first? Instead you went to them. You probably fucked them and that’s why you used the bleach.”

  Judea pushes me away and runs his hands through his hair.

  “Goddamn it, Duma. Do you have to do this shit right now? That’s not why I went there first. Fucking them never crossed my fucking mind. I’ve been burning bodies for a week straight. I was thoughtful enough to burn them downwind from you and Judi. I stopped there to shower off the germs and stench of death before I came home to you and my son. I would rather risk infecting them than my son. I shouldn’t have to say that aloud. I never touched them. I didn’t want to. I’m tired. I wanted to come here, relax, and make love to you. Now, I’m not so sure.” He turns and walks away from me. I follow him into the bedroom. I feel guilty and I don’t know what to say. I can’t stop being jealous. Judea marrying those women brought out the worst in me. I feel sick when he pulls on his favorite jeans and a clean t-shirt. He takes a clean pair of socks from the husband’s drawer.

  “Where are you going?” I don’t want him to leave.

  “I’m hungry and tired. I’m going back up to the house where I was welcomed with warm food and warm smiles. Everything in here is ice cold.”

  Cold, like a machine. An outcast like my mother. Cut up. Thrown away. I push away the hurt. I turn when he pulls on his cowboy boots and reaches for his hat. I don’t want him to see my tears if they fall. I can’t make him want me. I can’t make him stop wanting them.

  “I’ll be back tomorrow to see my son.”

  “Okay.” I say shakily. How can he leave me and go back them? Judea’s such a bastard.

  “Okay? That’s it? Are you really going to let me walk away like this?”

  “What do you mean? You want to leave. I won’t ask you to stay where you don’t want to be. I want you to be happy.”

  “I don’t want to leave. You make me happy. I don’t want you to think I am fucking one of them because I come within two feet of them. I want to be with you.”

  “You called me cold.” That part still stings.

  “You are cold.” He agrees. “You are hotter than hellfire too. I want to hold you. I missed you so fucking much.” I let him hold me and I don’t care if he smells like bleach.

  “I don’t want you to be married to them.”

  “I know, Dumani. I don’t either. I fucked up.”

  “Fix it.” I say reaching down and undoing his jeans. He isn’t going anywhere tonight or ever. His dick doesn’t taste like bleach when I suck it. It tastes good like him. Judea doesn’t last a full minute and it’s okay with me. I want to help him relax. I let him turn me around, bend me over the bed, and fuck me from behind with tits flapping and ass slapping. After he has his way with me, Jude sits in the living room playing with our son as I fry him up a fresh steak and make a pot of rice for the gravy. I use some of the dried onions and celery to flavor the gravy.

  “It smells good in there, Sweetheart.” He calls. I look up and smile at him. Wait until he tastes this chocolate cake. I make two plates and wipe my hands on the towel tied around my waist as an apron. I set their tray on the coffee table checking for anything I might have missed. Salt and pepper, silverware, napkin, drinks, extra-

  “Everything looks great. Where’s yours?”

  “I should clean the kitchen first.”

  “No, I want you to eat while it’s warm. Sit down.” He pulls me down beside him and puts his plate on my lap. I take the fork wordlessly.

  “I’ll make myself another plate.”

  We eat dinner and talk about the sickness. Where did the men get it? He tells me that a group of scouts must have brought it back because they died first. We talk about everything. After I put our baby down for the night, we lay in bed and talk some more. Judea falls asleep in my arms before we can make love. I hold him through the night. I watch over him when he sleeps through the next day. They lost two-thirds of their numbers and he’s exhausted. I answer the knock on the door that evening. The house is clean and smells like meatloaf.

  “What do you want?” I lower my gun to my side.

  “I need to speak with my husband.” She raises her chin a notch in a show of defiance.

  “He’s sleeping. Go away.”

  “Judea told me not to be afraid of you. He also told me that I can come to him anytime for anything.”

  “Things have changed since then.”

  “He said it yesterday.”

  “Go back to your house.” I will kill her on the front porch and solve half of my problems.

  “No, I won’t. I haven’t seen my husband in a week and I want to speak with him.”

  “What’s wrong Jennifer?” Jude yawns over my shoulder from behind.

  “I want to know what I did wrong? Why won’t you speak to me? Why won’t you touch me?”

  “Did you hike down here to ask me this shit? Go back to the house.”

  “I am your wife too. I love you and you love me. You told me that you would be proud to have me as a first wife if she didn’t come back. You said that I’m the most beautiful woman you’ve ever had.”

  He steps around me and physically escorts her down the porch steps.

  “Shut the fuck up, bitch. Don’t say another word.”

  “Why n
ot? You don’t want your precious Dare girl to know that you favor me? Tell her. Tell her the truth. You want to be with me.”

  “Don’t listen to her, Dumani. She’s pissed at me and saying things to piss you off.”

  “I want you both to leave.” I decide. “Take your douchebag wife and go.”

  “I’m walking her up to the house. I’ll be right back.” He grins. “Douchebag wife?”

  “Stay with her since she’s so beautiful and favored.”

  “Duma, we just talked about this. I’m with you. That’s why she’s here begging for attention. I don’t want her.”

  “Cane her.” I demand. “She’s bringing bad energy into this house.”

  “No!” The woman cries. “Please don’t beat me husband. You promised you would never beat us. You said you want to keep my skin unmarked and perfect.”

  “Duma, I was drunk and—”

  “You said it while you were kissing me all over. You told me it feels like silk.”

  I get one good swing off before he grabs me. It puts her on her back. I hit him too because it’s his fault. Judea forces my hands behind my back and locks his knees together. He dodges my headbutt. I hate him. I hate him for making me cry.

  “You, fucking bastard.”

  “Come on, Dumani. Don’t cry over this. I said those things to make her feel good. I wanted her to feel special because I was fucking her. I don’t love her.”

  “Let me go or I’ll hurt you. Get her out of here, Judea. Take your wife and get her the fuck out of here before I set her on fire and put her out when she’s well done and still alive.”

  “You hit me. It’s a sin. The church will cane you and make you a maid.”

  Judea releases me to grab her by the throat. I should stop him before he kills her. I hope he does kill her. He doesn’t, he doesn’t even choke her. He shoves her away.

  “Another fucking word and I’ll make you a corpse, Jennifer.”

  “But, husband. The Goodwife is violent and disrespectful. She swears at you and broke up our family. Francesca needs you right now. She cries herself to sleep every night.”