“Yes, lord.”
“So tell me, what is she saying about me and Sarai?”
“About how you . . .” Now it was Hosea’s turn to be tongue-tied. “You know, lord, the foot baths.”
Poppy laughed out loud. “Foot baths? This whole insurrection is about foot baths? You think I oughta whip the girls like I do the boys? Maybe I will now if that’s what your mama wants. So, if you mama’s boys are finished dicking me around here, maybe we can —”
“We’re not talking about foot baths!” Adam shouted. “And you know it. You know what we’re talking about.”
“Then say it. Say what you mean, or shut your accusing mouths.”
Adam and Hosea looked at each other. Clearly neither of them wanted to speak, but Adam was the eldest and the one most responsible for getting this right.
“She says,” Adam said, looking away again, “that you laid your hands on our sister.”
There it was, said.
But Poppy brushed his words away.
“I suppose I do, but no more than the Bible instructs me.”
“The twin of a twin verse?” Hosea said. “The special daughter and the father’s need of comfort? Yes, Mama said you’d say that.”
Poppy patted the Bible in its holster on his belt. “As she should. It’s the word of Father God.”
Adam said, “You gotta show it to us then, lord. If it’s in the Bible, you gotta show it to us; otherwise, we can’t believe it.”
“You’re calling me a liar now?”
“No, lord, not us but Mama is. Just show it to us, and things can go back to normal.”
Hosea added, “She says that if we had more Bibles around here we’d find that half the things you say are, uh, not exactly biblical.”
“She says that?”
“She says they’re lies so you can get things you want and be the boss of everything.”
“I’ve heard enough. Your mama’s the one who needs correcting, it sounds like.”
Hosea held his lantern in front of Poppy’s holster. “Just show us, lord, so we can be on your side.”
“There’s sides now? And you’re on the other side?”
“No, lord, it’s just that . . .”
Adam said, “She’s got hold of the Winchester and a box of shells, lord, and she keeps the babies close around her and she says she’ll die before we disarm her.
“Don’t go there, lord. She’s a lot stronger than last night. This time when she tries to shoot you, she won’t miss.”
Hosea added, “And somebody might get hit in the crossfire.”
Finally they’d gotten through to him. Poppy sat on a carton of canned tuna and turned everything over in his mind. Adam pressed this unusual advantage.
“We thought we’d fix up the prayer cabin for you. The barrel stove is still hooked up. We’ll take bedding and food and put together a stack of firewood. You’ll be comfortable until we can get all this ironed out.”
What a sad day this was. Poppy never thought he’d see the day when his boys were so scared of an old woman’s wrath that they would rather face him down than her. But here it was, that day.
“All right,” he said, “I’ll keep my distance for now, but we’ll all be damned before I let her drive me from my keep.”
SB5 1.0
“A LITTLE WHILE?” Cora said. “Mama, you were gone for two whole years.”
“This is true,” Mama P said. She slouched at one of the common room tables, eyes cast down, the very picture of remorse. “I was that tired.”
Deut and Cora sat opposite her at the table, and between them lay the Winchester 94. Sarai, meanwhile, paced the room, her arms held tight across her chest, unwilling even to sit at the same table with her mother. In the far corner of the room, Elzie and Nummy played with building blocks and rag dolls on the floor.
Sarai, tears welling in her eyes, stopped pacing long enough to hurl a pent-up accusation at her mother. “You knew about it more than two years!”
Mama P began crying too. “This is true, my love.”
“You were there, Mama, that first time.” Sarai could hardly get the words out. “You were in the same room. You were awake. And you did nothing.”
“I am so, so sorry, my baby. I’ll never be able to forgive myself, even if Jesus forgives me, and I don’t expect you to forgive me either, none of you, though I’ll pray every day of my remaining days and beg Jesus that someday you do,” Mama P said, bowing her head to them.
Sarai recrossed her arms and continued her pacing. She wasn’t ready for any talk about forgiveness. Nor was she ready for her traitorous mother to rejoin the family.
Just then, the front door swung open, and Sue came in, flush from exertion, and was followed by Crissy Lou, wagging her bushy tail. The dog stopped and sniffed the air. Her hackles rose, and a menacing growl rose from deep in her chest.
“What’s wrong with you, silly?” Sue said. She re-opened the door, and Crissy Lou bounded out. Sue crossed the room and glanced into the kitchen. “How come no one’s fixing lunch yet?”
Deut was about to reply, but Mama spoke first, “I don’t remember putting you in charge of the kitchen, dear. Or in charge of anything, for that matter.”
Sue approached the table where they sat. “Excuse me? What did you say? To be fair, Mama, you weren’t exactly giving orders when I moved in, were you? I’m only pitching in and helping where I see I can do the most good.”
“Is that why you’re helping that man right now?” Mama P said. “I know what you’re up to, Miss Krae. You and Proverbs are helping him defy me and set himself up in the keep. And please don’t call me Mama. You’re not part of the family yet, are you?”
Sue blanched, but she went on, “With all due respect — Mrs. Prophecy — I am not yet part of the family, but I am part of this household in the keep. And Father God has made your husband the head of this household, not you.
“Even if he’s a sinner,” she continued, picking up a note of indignation as she went, “and who among us is innocent of sin? — it doesn’t change the order of things, does it now, Mrs. Prophecy? What kind of example are you setting for the children?”
Mama P shook her head sadly. “The best kind of example, I would think, keeping the lust of an incestuous rapist far away from their beds.”
Sue’s jaw dropped. She raised a hand to object, but this was more than she was prepared to debate. “Whatever,” she said at last and, without another word, left the cottage.
“Now where were we?” Mama P said.
Mama was back! Praise Him!
“Sarai, my eldest daughter, has anyone ever told you how many children your father expects me to bear him from my womb?”
Sarai shook her head.
“He’s never told you? Any of you?”
No one had an answer.
“Twenty-one. Think about it. Twenty-one was the number he lit on. Twenty-one ore carts from the same depleted copper mine. He said he came up with that number from the Bible, the same place he gets all his bright ideas.
“But when I had Revie, baby number fourteen, I felt like I’d done enough. I was bone tired by then, and my body was a wreck. I wasn’t young anymore, like when I had you older kids. Surely, fourteen babies must make a quiverful, don’t you think? Even Jesus would agree I deserved to retire from the holy work of bringing new souls to the Feast. I told this to your father, and do you know what he said?”
All the girls shook their heads no.
“First he popped me one in the eye for insulting him. The swelling closed my eye shut.” Mama P motioned with her fingers which eye it had been. “And my face was bruised for weeks. Remember that? You were old enough to witness it, all of you. I blamed it on a clumsy fall, and you bought it, including the boys. Didn’t you?”
She looked at each of them in turn, giving them a chance to deny her truth.
“And after he popped me in the eye, he said it’s written in Judges: The righteous man of his community begets twenty-one sons and daughters fro
m this woman he maketh his wife.
“I told him to show me where it was written, though one eye was swelling and the other was so full of tears I wouldn’t have been able to read it. But he only threatened to pop me again.
“So then there was See-Saw. And then there was Nummy.
“Once again I told your father we had enough babies, and you know what he did? Guess.”
None of them could breathe, let alone make guesses.
“He bruised me in places that don’t show.
“So then I was pregnant with Elzie. That time I thought I would outfox your Poppy. Do you know what I did?”
None of them wanted to know.
“I figured I would tell him this was my last baby while I was still pregnant. Not even your Poppy is that abased to strike a pregnant woman, right? Especially if she’s carrying his own baby, right?
“So I told him that seventeen babies was enough. I told him I prayed over it, and the Holy Spirit agreed that this would be my last one. So that’s that, and you’ll just have to get used to it.
“And do you know what he did?”
The girls were sullen with knowledge.
“You already know, Sarai,” Mama P said, “because, as you say, you and I were both there. And now you all know it. I’m truly sorry for not standing up for you, my dear, dear daughter. I was there, as you say, but parts of me were already gone. Not to return until today.
“But by the Savior’s blood, I swear I will never let him hurt you again.” Mama P reached to pat the Winchester in front of her. “I don’t care if they lock me up; I won’t take no more of his sins. I won’t let him lay a hand on any of you. Ever again.”
Whether or not Mama P’s words softened Sarai’s heart was impossible to tell. The eldest girl resumed her stoney-faced pacing.
Mama P turned her attention to Cora. “Ah, Cora, I’m so proud of the woman you’re becoming. You stepped up when the family needed you the most. Bravo. Your sisters couldn’t have managed without you. Still, I must apologize for making it necessary for you to grow up so fast, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Cora came around the table to hug her mother, fighting back tears. “That’s okay, Mama. I forgive you. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
“Oh, I’m here all right, and I aim to lift the burden from all of you as soon as I am able.”
Finally, Mama P reached across the table to take Deut’s hands. “Dear, sweet, innocent Deut, you seem to have escaped the worst of it, but no more. Your path in the years ahead will be the most difficult of all.” She glanced at the other girls and said, “Jesus has chosen your sister for a very special task. I’m not clear on the details, but I think it involves a man your father calls a devil.”
Cora gasped; she knew which devil that was.
Deut blushed so fiercely that her faint eyebrows shown white against her burning skin. Sarai came over to sit on the bench, as if summoned by her twin.
“I wish I could be there to help you fulfill your holy mission, my daughter,” Mama P went on, “but ever since your father brought that glass trumpet into our household, we are at the center of a raging battle beyond our ken.”
Cora said, “You know about the trumpet, Mama?”
“Oh, yes, I do. Any number of saints were eager to stop by so they could tell me about it. How he found it, how he tried to blow it but couldn’t, how Proverbs finally destroyed it. The angels weren’t happy about Beezus getting ahold of one of their trumpets, let me tell you, or of the key to the pit of Hell.”
Her audience was speechless.
“Listen, daughters,” Mama P continued, “your sister will be leaving us soon.”
They looked at Deut, who seemed as surprised by the announcement as anyone, but she didn’t deny it.
“She’ll be doing the Father’s work, and I don’t ever want to hear anyone speak ill of her, no matter how ungodly her actions seem to us. I won’t stand for it. Do you all hear me?”
They nodded their heads in unison.
“That goes for your brothers too. I will speak to them, but if you overhear any of them disrespecting your sister in your earshot, I want you to tell me about it. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Mama.” The girls stole secret looks at their sister.
“And, Deut, I want you to remember this . . .”
“Yes, Mama?”
“Jesus expects a lot from you.”
“Yes, Mama.”
“But He doesn’t expect you to sin.”
“No, Mama.”
“If anyone leads you into sin, he is no friend but rather a henchman of Satan, or Satan himself in earthly guise. Deut, do you understand?”
Before Deut could answer, the front door flew open and Myrrh and Frankie barged in. “We’re hungry,” they announced. “When’s lunch?”
At the word “lunch,” Elzie and Nummy dropped their toys and raced across the room to their mother to claim their place at her breasts, but she held them back with stiff arms. “Not so fast, you little monsters.”
The two tiny Prophecy boys were shocked. They’d only ever known a sleeping mama.
“What’s the matter?” Mama P asked them. “Not used to titties that talk back? Well, listen up, my angels, Mama’s cutting you off. Starting today.”
The girls all looked at each other, and Sarai said, “Really, Mama, all at once?”
“Cold turkey.”
“But . . .”
Myrrh and Frankie were watching all this from the front door, as amazed as the rest. Mama P gave them a critical look and waved them in closer.
“If I’m not mistaken, you two girls turn thirteen next week.”
“Yes, Mama, we do,” Myrrh said.
“Next Thirday,” Frankie added.
“Come over here please.”
“Yes, Mama.”
The two middle girls, the second set of twins of a twin, crossed the room and respectfully presented themselves to their mother.
She quietly observed them in turn and said, “Did you know that I’ve been hearing reports about you two this whole time?”
The girls gaped at each other.
“We have angels assigned to keep an eye on us. We all do, and your angels liked to come over and tell me everything you two were doing.”
“We’re really sorry, Mama,” they both said.
“Sorry for what? For those times you were goofing off?”
“Yes, Mama.”
And those times you were slipshod doing your chores?”
“Yes, Mama.”
“How about those times you tortured your little brothers?”
They hung their heads.
“All of that is duly noted,” Mama said, “but when you add everything up, I find that you two have been pulling your own weight around here, and then some.” She looked at the older girls. “Don’t you agree?”
Deut and Sarai and Cora said, “Yes, Mama.”
“So I’m happy with you two. You make me proud.” She opened her arms and captured the girls in her embrace. The girls cried because they had forgotten what hugging Mama was like. “And on top of all that,” Mama continued, “now you’re thirteen years old! I think that calls for a promotion. It’s time for you to graduate from kitchen helpers to full-fledged cooks. I think you’re ready.” She turned to the elders. “You think they’re ready?”
Deut and Sarai and Cora nodded their heads.
“Good. You two are now officially in charge of lunch from now on. Your sisters will supervise you while you get the hang of it, and then you’ll be on your own. Okay?”
Myrrh and Frankie were well pleased. “Okay, Mama.”
“So go in there and get started. But before you do, put these two monsters in front of soup and buttered toast. If they don’t eat soup and buttered toast, don’t give them anything else.”
The new lunch cooks each took a startled boy by the hand and marched him to a soup bowl in the kitchen. Babyhood was coming to an abrupt and inglorious end. Mama P turned back to the
elder girls and wiped a tear from her cheek.
“I thank Father God,” she declared, “that both of them are old enough for solid food because one thing is certain. And it’s actually in the Bible this time, Matthew 24:19. Look it up when you get your hands on a Bible. ‘And woe unto them that are with child, and to them that give suck in those days!’”
SB6 1.0
POPPY LAY ON his cot reading the Bible by lantern light in his new little domicile located in a corner of the storeroom chamber. It was a snug space that Proverbs and Sue had made for him from cartons of paper products. When the devil Beezus was ransacking their storeroom chamber for their precious survival supplies, he hadn’t bothered pilfering any of their paper products. Thus, they still had a lot of it, especially toilet paper. The Prophecys had enough cartons of toilet paper put by to last out the Troubles for all twenty of them. If the devil knew the first thing about tormenting living humans, he’d have made off with their toilet paper first thing. Or so thought Poppy.
As he lay back on his pillows and stared up at the cardboard ceiling, he did some mental calculation. His little sleeping hut of cartons must offer at least as much insulating R-value as those hay-bale houses he’d first run into in Arizona and later in California. Around about R30, if memory served, for a straw bale on edge design. Which was why his little hut was kept warm from the heat of a single propane lantern.
It was well past midnight, and Poppy’s eyes were drooping. He slipped a bookmark into the Bible and set it on the rock floor next to his pants. It sickened Poppy’s soul to see just how low he’d sunk. But he was a man who had lived long enough to understand that spending a few nights on a cot was much better than correcting Mama in front of the children.
Poppy took a last gander at the towering cardboard walls surrounding him and reached up to turn off the lantern. Now, in total darkness, he fluffed up his pillow and put to rest another day. The heavenly gift of drowsiness settled over his brain. Despite sleeping on a cot, it looked like he was going to be blessed with sleep tonight.
So it came as a shock when a gun fired somewhere nearby in the chamber, and a bullet tore through his walls, peppering him with paper shrapnel.
Glassing the Orgachine Page 19