Glassing the Orgachine

by David Marusek

  What the hell? Poppy lay perfectly still. He listened intently for the smallest sound. Were the feds back? Had they breeched the gate and come in with guns blazing? Were his boys captured? Wounded? And who was shooting as him?

  Then he heard the distinctive series of clicks of a Winchester lever action rifle expelling a spent cartridge and loading a fresh one. It was no feds; it was his wife!

  “Cease fire!” he yelled. “Are you crazy, woman?”

  A second and third shot lanced the walls. Methodical shots, unhurried, lever pulls in between. All aimed three cartons high. Potential head shots if he were standing up.

  A fourth shot sliced lower and sent the lantern swinging. If she hit the propane bottle it would explode.

  Poppy opened his mouth to shout again but thought better of it. Instead, as quietly as he could, he rolled off the cot and lay on the stone floor with his feet in the direction of fire. Better crippled than dead.

  A fifth shot cut even lower and shattered the frame of the cot, showering him with wooden splinters. Poppy took some in his side but hardly flinched.

  A sixth shot grazed the stone floor beside him. This was no friendly warning.

  All was silent for a long while. She did not eject the spent round.

  As Poppy well knew, the Winchester tube magazine held six rounds. Poppy had counted them all, despite his fear. Now he hesitated, wondering whether she’d brought the box of ammo with her. If she did, he’d hear her reloading, and he didn’t. Or, maybe she had one in the chamber when she started firing? Which would mean seven rounds, which would mean she had one round left for when he popped his head up.

  After a brief prayer and furious calculation, Poppy hatched a plan to wait her out, to let her imagine that she had tapped him. So he did his best impression of a death rattle and lay completely still in the darkness.

  DURING THE HOUR Poppy spent lying supine on the cold floor, the only reason he didn’t freeze completely was because he was so damn mad. How dare she shoot him? What kind of evil had gotten into her head?

  Poppy didn’t hear another sound in the chamber since the last shot. When he wasn’t able to lie still another moment, he carefully and silently sat up.

  Then, right outside his paper-product bungalow, she cocked the rifle. The spent brass bounced against the cardboard wall. She slammed in the seventh round and spoke in a reasonable voice, “I told you to leave, Marvin. Leave tonight. And don’t come back. Ever.”

  Everyone's on a Mission

  EM1 1.0

  THE FAMILY WAS asleep when Deut and Mama stole through the tunnels to the gate. The guards, Ithy and Corny, were asleep too. Poor babies, worn to a frazzle by days and weeks of work.

  Deut could have easily slipped away on her own but for the bolt. Once she was outside she needed someone inside to lock the sally door behind her — Mama.

  They hugged for a long time. They traded multiple kisses and intermingled their tears. Finally, as Deut stepped into the night, Mama slipped a small object into her hand.

  “What is it?” Deut whispered.

  “It was your great grandmother’s. Keep it near your heart.”

  It was a tiny golden cross on a golden chain.

  DEUT HAD PACKED a flashlight, headlamp, and spare batteries. Mama had prepared a couple of hearty meals for the road and given her $300 in cash. She carried a ground pad and sleeping bag in case she needed to stop somewhere along the way. And a handgun in case she needed to shoot someone.

  The plan was to give Deut an eight-hour head start before the boys or Sue discovered her absence, enough time to hike into town along the back trail (her second time on this trail in the last week). Once in town . . . well, once in town her mission would commence, all of which was still pretty murky in her mind.

  Hour after hour, she kept a brisk, steady pace in the dark. She took only two short breaks to rest her legs. She had intended to take another, longer break for a meal, but after only five minutes of sitting still, the cold began to seep through her clothes. So she wolfed down a sandwich and continued on.

  Any journey Deut had made in the past involved a lot of preplanning because of all the kids. Choosing clothes, packing meals, games and activities — it was a lot of work! Rest breaks, cranky passengers, impromptu sleeping arrangements — it was never boring. But what does one do on a solo journey with only oneself to look out for?

  Think about things, apparently.

  As it turned out, a mere eight-hour hike wasn’t long enough for Deut to think about everything on her mind. Especially about her mysterious mission. She had been assigned a mission by the Savior of the world! How glorious was that? Jesus had personally picked her. The miles melted beneath her feet as she struggled to take in this stupendous fact. She was Father God’s chosen servant. What do you think about that?

  When Deut managed to tire of marveling over her mission, there were plenty of other things to think about. Some of them unpleasant, some downright deplorable.

  At first she enjoyed thinking about Uzzie. Meeting her brother in Heaven was the greatest blessing she could hope for and such a relief. Her brother was a real saint, with wings and sash and all. Plus the fact that the bizarre things he did, like joining the demons in the helicopter and jumping into a volcano, unfolded according to Jesus’ plan. (It even somewhat let the ranger off the hook.)

  But the more she thought about Uzzie, the less comforting his story became and the more dubious certain aspects of it seemed. Like, when Uzzie drowned, it was only natural for his soul to fly up to Heaven to find Jesus. He was a good boy and innocent. It would have been shocking if his soul hadn’t gone straight to Heaven. Even if, as Poppy said, Beezus was the one who took Uzzie in death, his soul would still go straight to Heaven. But once Uzzie got to Heaven, did Jesus turn him right around and send him back with a mission that required him to jump into a volcano? To burn up his precious little body to cinders? Did Jesus restore his life only to martyr him again right away? A little kid, not an adult like her. She was old enough to accept a mission, even a mysterious one, but Uzzie was just a little kid. Were things so desperate in Heaven that Jesus had to use little kids like canon fodder?

  So around hour five of her little walk, Deut shoved any thought of Uzzie away from the picture window of her mind. It was funny; Ginger had her thing for kitchen windows. Deut always imagined that her own brain had a picture window. Whatever was visible outside this window was what she was thinking about at the moment. Her day’s mental activity resembled an endless parade of people, places, and objects marching by her window, and now it was time for Uzzie to move along down the way.

  Deut didn’t want to think about her short-time friend right now either, so she shooed Ginger from her window as well.

  Then there was the ranger stumbling about in his meadow. Move along, ranger. Move along. No time to deal with you right now. Please take a place at the end of the line.

  In actual fact, the ranger, with his silky blindfold and his arrogant pony tail sticking out the other end, was blocking her view. Behind him stood a giant in Roman sandals brandishing a sinewy sword of flames, who she’d rather be watching.

  Deut had returned from her visit to the Throne Room in a state of elation mixed with a dash of guilt. Had she crossed some kind of line with Archangel Gabriel? Was she lusting after an angel? Her swampy underwear that evening seemed to say yes.

  This was by far the worst, most overwhelming crush of her life, and she was the one being crushed. Was this normal? All she wanted to think about was Gabriel. How could this be normal? So it was a blessing that her introduction to Gabriel coincided with Mama’s return.

  Except that Mama’s surprise homecoming had turned the entire house on its head.

  Deut wanted to take Mama aside for a serious talk, but everyone else was needing her just as much. So Deut put her own needs aside, as she always did, and suffered in silence for a few more underground days.

  In the end, it was Mama P who came to Deut one evening when all the
kids were put down for the underground night. Mama P led Deut from the cottage to the stone yard where they had camped during construction. Deut and her sisters used to park Mama P in her lounger next to the fire pit for hours on end while they got the children fed or bathed or put to bed.

  Now Mama P liked to come out here after the cottage was asleep. She’d make a little campfire with sticks of firewood Hosea provided, and sit by it for a quiet hour or two with the Winchester cradled in her arms.

  Deut sat on a bench and watched as Mama P tended her little campfire in the pit.

  “I’m envious of you, don’t you know,” Mama P said matter-of-factly.

  “Of me, Mama? But why?”

  “Obviously, you’ve been to Heaven. I’ve never been there. I’m not sure exactly where I was staying these last couple years. A sort of purgatory, it felt like. You know, it felt like I was in debtor’s prison. I was burdened by a sinking feeling like I’d never be able to pay back all that I owed. My debt was a millstone around my neck, always pulling me down. Wherever I was, it wasn’t Heaven.

  “So tell me, daughter, what was it like in Heaven? You meet Jesus there? He hates it when you call Him Elder Brother Jesus, by the way. Did you know that?”

  “Yes, Uzzie told me. And Jesus is the most kind and loving man I ever met. We met in the Throne Room where I also saw the Father except He’s too bright to actually look at. And crowds of saints you can see and a choir you can’t. The most lovely voices, but the singers are hidden. Yet you can feel their presence, like they can breathe in your ear.

  “And did I mention our family? Not only Uzzie and Incense, but your parents, aunts and uncles whose names I didn’t know until I glanced at them and then I knew, and they went back hundreds of years through many, many generations. All in a flash, like you could look anywhere and uncover layer upon layer of wonder like diving into an ocean of knowing. You could dive endlessly and never see everything.”

  Deut went on for a while recalling for her mother the most vivid impressions of her visit to Heaven, impressions that she hadn’t had the opportunity to sort out in her own head let alone share with anyone.

  In the end Deut gave Mama P a complete accounting of her trip to Heaven without, however, revealing what was bothering her about it. But Mama P wasn’t so easy to fool.

  “And yet, for all the glory,” she said, “there seems to be a cloud lingering overhead.”

  Deut bit her lip.

  “So tell me, Deut, if it’s permitted to be shared, why there was so little mention of angels in your report? I should think they add a lot to the overall tone of the place, no?”

  “There were angels, Mama.”

  “I see.” The older woman leaned in to read her face. “Tell me, dear, was Archangel Michael there?”

  Deut’s eyebrows shot up. “I don’t know.”

  “Hmm, hmm,” Mama P said. “How about Gabriel?”

  Deut turned bright pink, visible even by firelight.

  “I see.”

  “I didn’t do anything, Mama. It just happened.”

  Mama P reached over to squeeze her hand. “Don’t fret about it. No one’s blaming you. That Gabriel is a well-known flirt. It’s a wonder that Jesus lets him get away with it.”

  “Mama?”

  “Relax. Whatever feelings you were having, even the sluttiest ones —”

  “Mama!”

  Mama P stopped talking and shushed her daughter. “Listen, my love. We don’t have much time before you leave. So allow me to get right to the point, okay?”

  Deut nodded.

  “Good. Where I was, the saints and angels were allowed to visit, and they did. And at first I, too, was confused by my attraction to angels, and the lady saints set me straight on the whole affair. Especially St. Teresa of Avila, who called it ‘angel glow’ (and who was coy about her own angel).

  “Mama, what are you talking about?”

  “Angel glow. Recall, girl, that angels are made of pure spirit. You cannot have a carnal relationship with a spirit. Flesh, that’s the key ingredient of lust and fornication. Without flesh there is no sin. You cannot commit adultery with an angel, no matter what your body does or where your heart goes.”

  Deut was totally discombobulated by the nature of these revelations and more so by their source. Mama and lady saints? Sluttishness? Flirtatious angels? Mama had never spoken like this before she went away. It took some serious getting used to.

  “Not that pure spirits can’t get you pregnant,” Mama P went on. “Angels sired children with human women, the majority of whom died in childbirth. Of the babies who survived there came to be a race of giants on the Earth, the Nephiri. The Nephiri are named in the Bible; you can look them up yourself when you are able to get your hands on a Bible. The Nephiri were as big and tall as their heavenly daddies, and more beautiful than other men. The Nephiri boys. Angel seed gave only boys.

  “And here’s the thing, dear daughter. Keep this in mind — Scripture is silent on this kind of coupling, and the God of Abraham never forbad his people from practicing it.”

  This was good news?

  “However,” Mama P said, wagging her finger playfully, “Heaven doesn’t exactly condone it either. Keep in mind that Yahweh drowned all the giants along with the wicked during the Flood. Not one Nephiri was booked passage aboard the Ark, and since that time you don’t see any more giants roaming the land, do you?”

  “Not even the ones in the circus?”

  “Those lantern-jawed monstrosities with bad bones and loose teeth? No, those are aberrations and not the offspring of angels. Or if they are, they are the runts of the litter.

  “So what I’m telling you is that if Gabriel or another handsome angel — my personal favorite is Raphael — gets your motor running, then it’s one big grey area for you. My own opinion is you can enjoy yourself, just don’t take it too far. I don’t want a giant for a grandson.”

  “Mama!”

  “And before you get carried away, keep in mind that we’re only talking about angels here, heavenly beings with muscular wings of impressive span. Not men. Not flesh and blood men, for that is carnal sin. Even if it’s all in your head, it amounts to sin. It’s Satan strumming your body like a cheap guitar. So don’t do it. The best thing you can do when a boy gets you going like that is turn around and run for your life!”

  They laughed, though Deut wasn’t sure why. Nothing about this was funny.

  All of which was to say that Gabriel, in his leather-plaited battle kilt and centurion helmet, raising his broad sword above his muscular wings of impressive span, loitered outside Deut’s window for miles and miles.

  NATURALLY, THERE WERE downsides even to Mama’s return — her confirmation of Poppy’s sin against her sister for one. Neither Mama nor Sarai went into detail about the specifics of that sin, and so Deut still had no clear picture of what such a sin looked like in practice, not that she especially wanted to know, and she took it on faith that it must be the most despicable sin a father could commit against his daughter in all Creation.

  On the other hand, her father’s sin did help to explain why her twin had grown so distant from her and the family. What a burden her poor sister had been forced to bear all these years in silence. Deut cursed her own blindness and lack of compassion. Before her departure, Deut asked Sarai to forgive her all her meanness in the past few years, and Sarai did forgive her, and it was like they were sisters again, and these last couple of days were the best ever but sad too because of all the time they had lost.

  Sarai hadn’t gone so far as to forgive Mama yet. But after Mama had that talk with them, Sarai’s anger did lessen a bit and her heart softened, and Deut was sure that eventually Sarai would forgive Mama. And then, Father God willing, both Sarai and Mama would find the grace in their hearts to forgive Poppy for his despicable sins. Certainly, Poppy would first have to admit his sin to Father God and ask His forgiveness. And then, after due penance and/or punishment, they too would forgive him, and the family wou
ld be whole again. Deut prayed and prayed for this to happen soon so that they could all be together when the time came to throw the bolt.

  Anyway, Deut had wanted to say good-bye to Sarai and the others before embarking on her mission, in case she was outside the gate when they did have to throw the bolt and she never saw them again in this life. But Mama had said it was better that they didn’t involve any of the others and that she would give everyone a hug and kiss for her in the morning when it was too late for anyone to stop her. And so that was another heartache to bear.

  ALTHOUGH DEUT BANISHED Ginger Lawther from the window of her mind, her once and only friend stubbornly refused to go, and so she finally gave in and said out loud, “Oh, Ginger, why?”

  Not for a minute did Deut believe Proverbs’ claim about demons or anyone else kidnapping their guest. And knowing that Ginger had a good reason to sic the state authorities on them didn’t help much; Deut’s feeling of betrayal simmered all the same. Oh, Ginger, why did you hurt me so, making believe you were my friend, pretending that you wanted to be my sister-in-law? You had us all going; you are such a skilled liar. We were only trying to help you; there was no need to wound us like that. There was no need to break my brother’s heart. He’s not a bad man, and he doesn’t deserve your cruelty.

  THERE WAS ONE thing Deut did have to think about whether she wanted to or not — once in town she’d need a place to stay.

  Someplace close enough to town so that she could walk to the ranger’s house, since that was the whole point of leaving home. Since most of the dozen or so wintertime residents of McHardy were single men, Deut wasn’t left with many options for finding a bed. There were only two families currently living in town, the Sulzers at the public airstrip and the Cobweals at the shuttered hotel/saloon. Deut had met the Sulzers a couple of times when she attended Mail Day with Poppy. Ed and Ginny were Christians (of a sort), and their rambling house must have a spare bedroom they could loan her that wasn’t filled to the rafters with goldpans and cigarette ash. The question was how long the elderly couple would hold out when her brothers came pounding on their door, demanding they give her up. Deut’s guess was not very long.