The Doomsday Papers

by JanJan Untamed

  “It’s really me, Kitten.”

  I jump into his arms wrapping my arms and legs around him. He squeezes me so tightly my ribs crackle. Maximino. He kisses me forever. It isn’t long enough. We tear off our clothes and he pushes me down onto my creaky, old bed. I raise my arms to him. I am not convinced he’s here until he’s inside of me. I missed him so much.

  “I love you, Dumani. I will always love you.” He says against my lips.

  “Mino, I love you.”

  He wants me. He came back for me. Mino gives me everything that I need and he doesn’t push me away. He holds me in my little bed in the barn like we are in his beautiful palazzo.

  “Do you live here all alone?” I can hear the concern in his voice

  “I am always alone. No one speaks to me and when they do, they are asking me for sex.”

  “Who asks you for sex?”

  “The men in the church. Everyone knows I ran off with another man. They all hate me. But, I knew you would come back for me.”

  “Dumani, I can’t take you with me. I only have tonight. I killed my brother and the rest of his council. I am going to ground for fifty years. I already accepted my fate.”

  “Going to ground? What does that mean?”

  “It means that I am being locked in my tomb for fifty years. It isn’t so bad. It’s better than death. At least I’ll get to see you again.”

  “I’ll be eighty years old!”

  “It doesn’t matter. You should be here with your husband raising your son. I will do my penance and come back for you. Do you believe me?”

  “No. Why would you come back for an old lady?”

  “Because I love you, Kitten. Your husband will look after you. He will help you raise our child when it comes.”

  “I’m so afraid, Mino. When they find out I’m pregnant they’ll hang me in front of the church. I don’t even know who the Father is.”

  “I am the Father, Dumani.”

  “But your brother—”

  “You were pregnant when he raped you.”

  “Judea hates me. This will kill him. My mother did the same thing.”

  “I told you, witches are sluts. It’s how it is. He doesn’t hate you. He hates himself for pushing you away. Give him time.”

  “Why can’t you stay here with me? We can raise our child together.”

  “There are things I need to do for myself and your place is here. Let’s not waste time talking about what we can’t change. I want to make love to you while I still can.”

  “Oh, Mino.” I murmur.

  Letting him go the next morning takes everything out of me. He kisses my lips, my flat stomach, and he leaves me to begin his long sentence. I will never see him again. I know it. I am so upset that I skip church on Sunday and stay in bed. I’m not doing so well. I’m pregnant and it isn’t my husband’s child. I’m in love with two men. The church is going to call for my head. I will never see my son again. I show up the following Sunday five pounds lighter. The weight shifted from my body to my heart. I sit through Sunday service head down and distracted. I’m hungry but I can’t eat. I’m tired but I can’t sleep. I wait for Judea by his truck. He and Judi are with a pretty, dark skinned, girl today. This must be her. She looks so fresh and pretty. Everything that I’m not.

  “What do you want, Dumani?”

  “How long are you going to keep my son away from me? I come to church. I pray. What more do you want me to do? All I want is time with my child.”

  “You should have thought of that before you ran off.” The woman says nastily.

  “I don’t know who you are but this has nothing to do with you.”

  “She’s going to be my wife and Judi’s step-mother. I think it gives her some say.”

  “Goodbye, Judea.”

  “You did it to yourself.” The woman says to my back. I would hit her in the mouth if I wasn’t already in this fucked up position. They won’t let me see my son. I came back here for him. Hitting her in the mouth will piss my husband off.

  “All I want is to see my son. Fuck you and your sad ass sermons, Judea. The way you trash me every Sunday is lame. Thanks to you, the women won’t look at me and every man in church thinks I’m his personal whore. I wish I never came back here.”

  I kick the side of his truck so hard that my old boot leaves a big dent. He’s too stunned to say anything. I don’t hang around to wait for him to. I leave in a hurry. I take the short way home through town. I am not supposed to be in town. It feels weird with the families gone. Kind of like walking through an Alfred Hitchcock movie. This used to be a lively, tight-knit community that only people from small towns will understand. There was laughter and voices and vehicles cruising down the streets. You could see a man on a horse as easily as you’d see a man in a convertible. They’d wave in passing because that’s the kind of place this was. Now, it’s another dead town. I cut through yards and parking lots to avoid anyone from church. I remember when children played everywhere. Now, I don’t see a single person. I don’t see a stray dog. I wave at the birds. Hello birdies. I walk through overgrown grass, past neglected homes feeling melancholy. This community will never be the way it was before because there is no one to replace the dead.

  I put my hand on my stomach. I’m pregnant with Maximino’s child. A child who can fill one of those places and give me grandchildren. I should be disgusted with myself and upset that I let myself get into this situation. I’m not. I am warm all over thinking about having a child with my Mino. I want this child. He told me it will be like me and not like him. I could tell he was relieved. My child will have no father. All we have is each other and it will be plenty. Should I go after him and try to help him? He told me that this is something he needs to do. He killed his brother and that’s serious shit. Fifty years is like five for him. My gate is open when I get home. I draw my gun and creep up towards the house. Judea’s truck is parked in front and he’s sitting on my porch. His music is sinfully loud. I love it. My house looks two hundred years old with his shiny truck parked out front. I walk up the steps with no intentions of stopping. He reaches out and grabs the hem of my long dress. I yank it out of his grasp.

  “You kicked my truck.” He accuses in a lazy drawl. “You know how much I love my truck.”

  More than he loves me. I don’t know if he is thinking it but I am. He loves that hunk of steel more than he loves me. It pisses me off.

  “Is that why you showed up here? Bring it around tomorrow and I’ll knock out the dent.”

  “I want to know what the men have been saying to you.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “I want to know.”

  “Whore, slut, why don’t you get in and suck it for me a bit. Bitch, whore, slut, why don’t we go back to your place and fool around? Suck it good and I’ll think about taking you as fifth wife.”

  “Who said it, Dumani?” He asks dangerously. I didn’t forget how good he looks in jeans and a t-shirt. I didn’t forget how sexy he is in his cowboy boots and Stetson hat. I can’t think about that. He’s not for me. “Who said it, Goddamn it?” He yells.

  “The strangers say it! They’ve been saying it since I came back. I hate going to church but it’s the only way I can see my son. If you let him come here sometimes I won’t have to go back in there. You don’t know what it’s like.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Why? So, you can call them out and make them hate me more? Go home to your family, Judea. Kiss my baby for me.”

  He grabs my dress again when I walk away. I turn to tell him exactly how I feel about him and the church but the look he’s giving me makes me pause.

  “I’ll drop him off in the morning and pick him up tomorrow evening.”

  “Really? Do you promise?” I ask excitedly. He stands up to his full height.

  “I don’t want him in that barn. He sleeps in the house.”

  “Yes, I’ll do anything you want.” I say eagerly. I’ll keep him in the house. It isn
’t until Judea cocks his eyebrow that I realize what I said. I blush all over.

  “I apologize. That isn’t what I meant. I—”

  “I know what you meant, Dumani. I’ll be here in the morning.”

  I watch him walk down the steps. His boot heels thump in time with my heart. I remember when the yard was teaming with family on a good day like this. The children would be running around chasing the chickens. The smell of food would be wafting outside and I would be the one in the kitchen standing over the hot stove. My sisters would help me for a while but they always found time for tea and relaxing in the garden near the well. How many times have I watched Judea and my brother thump down these same stairs laughing and horse playing? How I longed for him back then. I wanted him to love me so much that I would have died for it. I wanted him more than anything. I remember how he used to look back at least once whenever he walked away from me. My heart catches. Today is no different. I don’t realize I’m hugging the warped post until he drives away. Judea. I don’t have to grow a big garden. I don’t have to stay in the field as long or pick as long or can food as long. Our larders are full thanks to my efficient mother. There are no weevil’s in the flour or mold on the cheese. I churn fresh butter and bake fresh bread because it is good to have around. I clean the house again and bake cookies for Judi’s visit. Maybe he wants cake or pie? I bake both and whatever else I think he might want. Just in case.

  I can’t sleep a wink so I lay on my narrow bed thinking about what Maximino and I did on it. I smile. I touch my flat stomach. I am not unhappy about carrying his child. I am sad for the people who I will upset. I am not going to end my pregnancy to please the church. I won’t do it. If they don’t want me back, fine. They can kick me out but this is my land and they can’t kick me off. I’ll wait outside the church on Sundays and tell Judi how much I love him when he passes by. His father will be forced to explain why he can’t see me. I have a while before the baby shows. When I do show, it will be winter and I’ll be wearing a heavy coat. I’ll hide it as long as I can. I am sitting on the steps in a nice dress and my hair covered like a proper church woman. I don’t cover my face. I stand up and brush off my clean apron. The sun isn’t up yet. This is morning for us. Judi is smiling sleepily when his father hands him off to me. I hug him for a long time. I don’t care about anything but this right now. I hold him and he lays his head on my shoulder and he lets me. The tears are here but I don’t let them fall. I don’t want him to see me cry. I finally look up at his father.

  “Thank you so much, Judea. Thank you for everything.”

  For coming for me and accepting me now that I am crawling back on my hands and knees. I want him to hug me and tell me that everything is going to be okay. I need someone to say it.

  “Momma.” Judi murmurs. It’s going to be alright. My baby says it. I will always have him. Judea takes off his hat. He wants to say something. I can tell from the way he’s looking down at his boots and everywhere except me. I hold my breath when his eyes finally search out mine.

  “Have a good day.” He says before putting his hat back on. He kisses Judi’s curly dark hair and leaves. Judi never raises his head.

  “Welcome home, Judi.” I say smiling. My son and I spend a beautiful day together walking our land and eating ripe pears off the tree. I push him in the baby swing and we fish in the pond. I cook our catch for lunch and I let him eat whatever he wants. I watch my son eat my cake with pride. I clean him up and we take a nap on the sunporch. This is how his father finds us when he comes to pick him up. He wakes me with a touch to my hair. My eyes flutter open like butterfly wings.

  “Judea? What time is it? I must have fallen asleep.”

  “No, don’t get up. I’m going to make myself a plate of the food out there and take it to go. I’ll pick him up sometime tomorrow. There’s no reason to wake him.”

  My heart could burst with joy right now. I cuddle him closer and smile into his hair. My baby boy. Judea takes a throw knitted by the third wife from the back of a chair and lays it over us. He leans over and kisses Judi’s head. Kiss mine too, my heart begs. Please, touch me too. He doesn’t. He walks away without even a goodnight. I don’t care. I have my son. Run away with him. Take him and run away. I push the idea out of my head. This is the safest place that I can be. I don’t want to run anymore. I’m tired. I want to stay here. I want to be close to something familiar so that I feel at home. This is my home. We eat dinner in the quiet house with only our voices for entertainment. I heat water on the stove for his bubble bath and we sit out on the back porch to stargaze. I point out constellations and read him a story by candlelight. I curl up with him on the living room sofa and we sleep.

  Chapter Forty-five

  I make eggs and biscuits for breakfast and do my few pieces of laundry. I pack the leftovers in a basket and cover it with a clean towel. I cooked too much food and I don’t want it to go to waste. Judea finds us in our old treehouse reading Dr. Seuss. The books were in Judi’s bag. I climb down with him on my back like old times.

  “He isn’t a little old for the back sling?”

  “He’s two.”

  “Judea isn’t an infant.”

  “He’s my baby and he likes it.” I walk back to the house and gather his things slowly. I don’t want him to go. I hand him and the basket to Judea.

  “I baked too much when you said he was coming over. It’s only me here and I don’t eat much.” I say shyly. He peeks under the towel with interest.

  “Everything looks good.” He says looking me up and down. “Damn good.”

  I blush all over. I reach up and touch the scarf covering my hair. Does he really think so?

  “How about I drop him off on Friday and pick him up on Sunday morning?”

  “That sounds great. You can bring him whenever you want.”

  “Mommy.” Judi cries when I hand him off. “I want mommy.”

  “You’re killing me kid.”

  I laugh aloud. Judi stops crying and smiles at the sound of my voice. Awe. One day he will be under my roof forever. Even if it means seducing his handsome father. I would take him to my bed today if he would have me. Mino isn’t coming back. I know it as sure as the sky is still blue. This is my life, not the dream that I had with him. Judea and my son are my family. The wives are gone and it can be us. If he is willing to accept another man’s child. I didn’t accept his outside children. How can I expect him to take in mine? He won’t. I know Judea. His pride alone won’t let him do it. He’s the pastor. Maybe I should end the pregnancy and start over fresh. What am I saying? I can never start over fresh. I can never erase Mino. Never. If I kill his child I will be killing us. I don’t want him to hate me. I would rather Judea hate me.

  If the time comes when he wants me back, I will put all my broken pieces on the table and give him the choice of putting them back together or not. What if he never forgives me? At least I will have my children. I think about it a lot before Friday. I’m sick but it isn’t enough to send me to bed.

  “Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m fine. Give me the bag, Judea.”

  “I can bring him back when you’re feeling better. You look tired. You should get some rest.”

  “I’ll rest when I’m dead. I want to be with my son.”

  “You look like hell. You don’t have the sickness, what’s wrong with you?”

  “I’m pregnant.” Fuck hiding it. “I don’t want to lie or hide it from you anymore. I’m pregnant with another man’s child.” I look down at my feet and wait for the explosion or the blow. The name calling. The accusations.

  “Who is the father?”

  What I don’t expect is this calm. This quiet acceptance of what I dropped at our feet. I can’t look him in the eyes. I don’t want to see his disappointment.

  “It doesn’t matter. I will never see him again.”

  “I guess you’re keeping it?” He asks stiffly.

  “Yes.”

  “Because you love him?” He sound
s bitter. I fall to my knees at his feet.

  “Yes.” I sob with guilt. “Please, forgive me. I know you told me not to come crawling back. I’m doing it anyway.”

  “You aren’t my wife anymore so I can’t really be upset, can I?” He lifts me to my feet by my underarms. “I’m glad you told me the truth before I started acting on the feelings that I have for you. I’m glad you told me before I fell in love with you again.”

  “Judea, you can hate me, but, please don’t take my son away from me.”

  “I won’t keep our son from you because you hurt my feelings.”

  I want to thank him but I can’t. Not under these circumstances. I just told him I’m pregnant. I know him. Judea is trained to keep his cool. He’s probably breaking things in his head. I want to hug him but that will make it worse. I want to though. I want to so badly. Maybe it’s because I need someone to hug me. My eyes burn with tears.

  “You are in no condition to run after a toddler. Feel better and call me when you are up to it.” Jude turns away before I can protest. He sounds funny. I watch him strap our son into his seat and close the door. He climbs in and drives away. He didn’t look back. I feel terrible and I don’t want to lay down, but I do. A few sips of Mino’s blood would have me up and running right now. His child is already draining me and I’m just getting started. You don’t have to go through this, a voice whispers. You can make it all go away and start over with Judea. I don’t want to start over. I want to keep going. I feel like a divorced woman when Jude drops off my son. He doesn’t speak more than a few words to me and doesn’t look at me at all. It goes on through the fall. I don’t let Judea come inside anymore when he drops Judi off no matter how deep the snow is. I don’t want him to see me big with another man’s child. I’m sad most of the time but I fight through it. I’m always polite when Judea is here and I always send him home with food. He never turns it down. I haven’t seen Judi in four days because I’m so sick that I can barely stand up. I’m too big to be this sick. I’m in my seventh month. I moved my bed into the house and I put it in father’s old room. I am lying here when a car pulls up in front. The front door opens and closes. I hear boots walking through the house before they start up the stairs. The bedroom door opens.