“So, what is on the apocalypse cookbook for today?” Aimes twirls her tray on the metal counter looking for Paula.
“Apocalypse is kind of harsh.” I start the mind-numbing chore of separating the utensils to hand down our chain.
Aimes shrugs her normal “I guess” gesture. “People are eating people while they scream. I guess I just have a different idea of harsh.”
“Good to see you’re keeping your spirits up,” Paula says with her biting, sugary tone overhearing our conversation from her side of the barrier. Her smile matches it.
Like a child scolded for cussing, Aimes looks down at her feet as she takes the plate of food from Paula. I raise an eyebrow at Chapel asking silently over Aimes’ behavior. It’s such a simple retort; she should have had a volley of wit to return. Instead, she is walking away like a whipped puppy. Walking away was never something she would have done before. Trust me, I have wished for it more times than I can recall.
Chapel doesn’t offer any clues with his blank face. He doesn’t greet Paula either. I watch as he and Aimes both retreat to our area; make that two whipped puppies.
Paula vanishes as quickly as she appeared, leaving me to standing alone, lost and confused. I never enjoyed silent movies. I never really understood what was going on in them. Now I’m living one as a part of the main cast with the same over acting and washed shades of greys to set the mood. Lucky me.
Rhett still sits by Marxx when I finally make my way back. Lawless is watching over everyone while chewing like a teacher with a table of naughty children. His arms are tense, ready to spring if one of our toddlers steps out of line. With heads bowed, deeply invested in the plates of food, the only sounds are their metal forks tapping the plastic plates as they eat. I’m equally impressed as I am amused and I have to bite my lower lip to keep the laughter restrained. The Prince has proved he can be King. They don’t hide the way they would if it was J.D.’s steel eyes upon them, but it’s a start.
Being the suicidal flirt that I am, I break the stand off with my own questions as I take the seat next to Lawless and across from the rest of them. The silent movie has grown dull. “How did we earn the privilege of a private floor?”
The tapping slows and the eyes look to Lawless to answer for them; make that four puppies. How many do I need for a full litter?
“It was best,” Lawless says on the topic, leaving more unsaid than answered.
“Are we really that hated?” I push the conversation with just eyes swinging from Law to myself.
“Depends on who is around. Mostly we are just avoided.”
“…unless they need something.” Marxx finally joins Law and I in conversation.
Lawless nods still pushing around what is left of his dinner on the plate. “Unless we are needed,” he says agreeing with Marxx.
“What do Travis and his crazy crew have to add to this place?” My question brings their eyes to Rhett. He sits oblivious to it with his thick barrier of skilled uncaring.
“Whore and prayers.” It’s Aimes who takes the first swing when the men were trying to figure out how to “play nice”. I may have just lost a puppy as she finally finds her wit.
If her statement bothered Rhett, he doesn’t show it. He simply puts another full fork load into his mouth ignoring the room.
“…and our area upstairs?” I ask, setting her up to continue to keep playing.
“Travis took over the “satanic symbol of our separation” for their prayer groups,” Aimes answers. Her smile showing she is growing braver by the question.
“Satanic symbol of our separation?” I repeat the phrase, dumbfounded by the quote.
“Yup. Afterwards I wanted to go pick a peck of pickled peppers I was so moved by his speech,” Aimes says and when she leans forward to address the man at the extreme opposite of the table from her, Lawless reaches over to lift her face to him.
Whatever he shows her in his eyes is enough to bring the pixie back to perch. His thumb gently taps her chin before he releases her and it humbles her even further as she swirls the food before her with her fork. It was such a simple and gentle act that only the silence of her lapse of conversation brings the other men’s heads up. By then, the show is over, leaving them unaware of the act. Lawless has already returned to his food as if nothing has happened. Only my own visible reaction leaves them a clue.
“Were is Simon in all of this?” I ask, trying to recover the flow.
It’s Chapel who picks up the broken pieces of the conversation sensing my need to talk. He says, “Simon is a broken man. I had thought he may recover from losing Shelia and Kira, but once we lost Richard like that, he retreated deeper. Only Dolph really keeps him going now. If Dolph were to quit, Simon would be content to stop living. He would just sit up in that room and let himself wither.”
I remember what I told Dolph in my moment of anger-inspired weakness. The look on his face has a deeper meaning to me. “What happened to Richard?” I ask not wanting to talk about Dolph right now.
No one offers to go first. I look to each person across from me waiting for someone to answer me. All I see is deeper bowed heads and hands clutching unused utensils. I should take it for a warning, but for me, if the warning isn’t flashing a neon red with the long list of dangers scrolling past, I always rush forward ignoring it. “Well?”
Rhett sighs, finally proving he is aware of what is going on around him. “The same day you decided to take a shower with a new friend, Richard stumbled into one as he was in the kitchen looking for something for Simon to eat. You fared better, barely.”
Images of Richard’s playful smile and his teasing nature consume my memories. He was always a constant wall for his friends. He was the first to step into the peaceful option when possible. It’s understandable why Simon is not surviving the death and why Dolph has picked up the banner of caretaker when it was stolen from Richard.
“Travis used it as further proof of our neglect,” Rhett continues, slipping the word “our” when before it was “yours”. “If we had been more invested in the whole place instead of just our own, it never would have happened.”
“People really bought that?”
“They wanted someone to blame. Someone to place their hatred and anger on about losing so many so suddenly. Travis provided that for them,” Rhett answers me without the bitterness he would have once felt towards such an outcome. I’m not the only one who takes note of it.
“Like you did?” Marxx asks, never looking up as if he couldn’t be bothered to.
“Yeah, like I did.” Rhett’s answer does bring everyone’s head up. He doesn’t say anything more about it and no one pushes it. Not even our chihuahua.
“I just can’t believe they have swallowed all this religion hype.” I sigh remember the many Sunday’s that Carol would rush us all to mass under the umbrella of spiritual guidance. It only took one service to understand the real reason we were there was to show how well she was doing in life. God doesn’t care about how many diamonds you are wearing or the labels on your clothing. He doesn’t place any higher value on your soul because of the car you drive. Somehow though, everyone always arrived displaying their finest.
“In man’s weakness, there are always those who use the good book as a weapon instead of a balm. Now, there is a lot of weakness with so many afraid of what it all means,” Chapel explains and of course it would be him to try to make us understand. The rest have no more grip of religious understanding than I do. “Everyone has lost someone if not more. Travis has them convinced his answers are the way to be reunited with them. To not obey him is too heavy of a risk with the fears of “what if he’s right” constantly on their minds. Add that to his natural charisma and it is how men like him have always snuck from the darkness to overtake the world. That same charisma has led them to be weary of us.”
“J.D. set up the start of it. Law not backing down to T
ravis started the war,” Aimes says finally recovering.
Lawless smiles as if she gave him a complement. “I think you helped,” he says and she returns his smile.
I imagine her “help” has more to do with Selma than Travis by Rhett’s return to mute. “What are we going to do?” I ask the question they have each tossed around. The sighs combine as one and they couldn’t have better timed it if they had tried. Their eyes are back to staring at Lawless now.
“We are still working on that.” Lawless gives the best answer he has. To leave now would admit defeat or scared and neither have ever been on the men’s list of words. They are not willing to add it now. “Why don’t you help me understand what happened in the neighborhood you found?”
I’m confused by his question. I know he has already had Marxx tell him everything so what does he want to hear from me?
“The tree,” Marxx says when I don’t answer right away.
“What about it?” Aimes asks as lost I am as to why I am being asked about it. “You mean other than the kids or the burn piles?”
“The letters,” Marxx answers again and I’m starting to feel like a child being led through a conversation. If I am given enough hints, then perhaps I will be able to say what they want to hear.
“I X O Y E?” Aimes puts the clues together faster.
Chapel twitches to attention. He looks as if he was just hit by lightning. “What?” he asks Aimes as if he doesn’t trust what he thinks she said.
She nervously says again, “I X O Y E.”
“That was on the tree?” Chapel still has the shocked look on his face.
“No, it was under it on the sidewalk.” My voice pulls his attention to me.
His shocked look is fading into one of pain. The way Lawless and Marxx tag-teamed this conversation into action, and are now silent, they must have known how it would affect Chapel.
“Tell me about the tree?” Chapel asks but everything about his voice says he really doesn’t want to know.
“There were children hung from it. Under it was burn piles of bodies.” I answer as delicately as possible.
“Not all the piles were burned, though. Some were just like in a ring of fire where the grass was burnt but the bodies were fine.” Aimes recalls a different scene than I remember. To be fair, I was more interested in April than what was around me.
“Only children in the trees?” Chapel asks as he cringes waiting for the answer.
“Yeah,” Aimes and I say in unison.
Chapel swears under his breath before rubbing his forehead with his hands. “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”
What Chapel says pulses that same invisible lightning out from him that struck him with such shock. Lawless and Marxx are no longer just the neutral spectators to the conversation. Even Aimes’ jaw drops with her deep inhale. Once again, I am left confused and annoyed.
It was sudden. There was no time for Lawless to stop it. I never saw Marxx strike Rhett, but the proof is flowing from the cut on Rhett’s face and how Marxx is towering over him.
“Did you know?!?” Marxx is shouting at Rhett as he stumbles to recover from the blow. Marxx doesn’t allow Rhett to answer as he hits the man again, doubling Rhett over. Marxx continues to try to reach Rhett as Lawless and Chapel do their best to pull him back. They strain against the man’s rage and it shows on their faces and taunt arms.
Rhett doesn’t fight back. He doesn’t encourage Marxx or answer him. The defeat of their knowledge deflates him faster than any insult or fist Marxx might land. With that defeat visible on his face and shoulders, Rhett walks away. One painful backwards step at a time, Rhett walks away with his shame reducing him to lost words and apologetic eyes. He’s watching the recreated bridge crumbling beneath his feet as he retreats.
He glances to me and we both know there is no life saving device I might throw him now. The wind is shifting again and the flames are consuming more than just the small bodies in their white sheets. They are determined to consume us all.
CHAPTER 22
“Anyone want to explain to me what just happened down there?” I ask as Marxx paces our new loft with his anger still unspent. “Other than giving them something more to fuel the rumors of how dangerous we are?”
“I really don’t care what they think anymore.” Marxx stops to stand in front of me. His tone is deadly and I flinch from him instinctively.
“She doesn’t know,” Aimes says, sitting beside me looking as lost as a disaster victim.
Lawless is slumped in a chair with his foot pounding a pattern on the floor. I look to Chapel standing at a window as he stares at nothing, looking as lost as Aimes. Whatever he is seeing is only in his mind, but it’s still just as real for him as us sitting around him by the lines it’s cutting upon his forehead. Aimes is right. I don’t know what is going on. I’m not sure I want to with how it is affecting them.
“It’s Travis’ quote. Follow me and I will make you fishers of men. It is what he says after every prayer meeting.” Chapel’s voice is as empty as a cavern and just as dark.
“I don’t understand what that has to do with the word we saw.” I don’t know why I always push the topics that are sure to push back, but I do. I push my luck like a giant bolder that is only going to roll right over me when I stumble under it.
“Earliest followers of Jesus adopted a secret symbol being the fish, or Ichthys.” Chapel brings his voice to a tone of a teacher telling a ghost story. He tells us, “Those are the initial letters of five Greek words forming the word for fish, IXOYE. It means literally, Jesus Christ God’s Son Savior.”
Aimes stirs in her seat listening to him. “So the whole fishy word is where he gets the whole fishers of men deal? Well isn’t he clever?”
“Travis isn’t the first to think of the connection and he isn’t the first to misuse it either.” Chapel sits in a spare seat as if he is weary and defeated by the weight we have placed upon him. Law or Marxx could see us through a fight, but only Chapel can guide us through this. It’s a tour he doesn’t want to lead.
“Why the dead?” Marxx is still pacing with his anger. His questions are short and clipped as he fights against his rage. “Why those dead kids?”
Chapel still hasn’t found an answer that suits his issues with what we have discovered.
“That, I don’t know,” Chapel sighs a long exhale of sadness, “I’m sure he is using it, twisting it just enough to convert and control people.”
“Is he going to do that here?” Aimes’ question brings a new level of energy. Each of the men take turns looking to the other, thinking silently about what it could mean if he tried. “Think Rhett knows?” Her second question increases the anxiety.
“It’s what he has known as far as I’m concerned.” Marxx growls with this deep voice.
“Yeah, you left that sentiment on his face.” Lawless tries to smirk but the anxiety is too great.
“Do we call Travis out?” Aimes sounds almost hopeful with the expectation.
“On what? We don’t have any proof he is behind it,” Lawless answers before anyone can jump to the idea.
“We might.” My mouth speaks again before I have any clue what it is saying. It and my feet must have it out for me.
“What?” Marxx sounds more hopeful than Aimes did. It only adds to the risks. Aimes will bark, but Marxx, Marxx will do more than just bite if given the chance.
“April,” Aimes and I say together as she puts the pieces together like I have.
“She said that woman in the pile was her mom, but Rhett said she belonged to Selma.” I can almost watch Aimes putting it all together as she speaks. “She said her dad was in the other pile because he couldn’t be saved.”
“So why is Selma claiming her?” I ask and the turning gears are visible on everyone’s face.
It takes us into a cocoon of silence as
we each think about what the answers could be. The thoughts wrap around us but no one is emerging as a pretty butterfly. Each thought only becomes darker with what we are imagining as the answers and it pulls our wings from our bodies instead of giving them to us.
“Do we care?” Marxx asks and the question is such a change from his first response that I’m afraid to pursue his change of thoughts.
Lawless isn’t, though. He asks, “What do you mean?” His presents his question carefully, holding his body still and his eyes neutral.
“This level of crazy isn’t our problem. We have enough to worry about without adding this to it. Those deaths were recent. Which means there will be plenty of homes with supplies still in them.” Marxx finally sits, leaning in to present his idea. “I say we go, stock up, and get out before this all goes bad. They don’t want us here. Why stay? Why risk it?”
It shocks me to hear him talk like this. It shocks me more that part of me agrees.
“You know what may happen as soon as we go?” Chapel asks letting the answer weigh on our minds.
“You really think if we walk up there and tell them the truth we would be believed?” Marxx counters with his own weight. “If Travis has been doing this all along, we won’t even be a bump in the road to a man who can convince people to hang their own kids.”
Well, when he puts it like that, it’s hard to argue to the merit of staying. I’m not the only one having this thought.
Lawless is settling into the idea of leaving. If he has to weigh the weights of us compared to the weight of people who have turned their backs on us, he will vote we leave tonight. This is where I could point out that it was because of one of us they have doubts, but unless they are willing to listen, I would just be going against the tide of male mentality. That same member taught me that one needs more than just a life vest if willing to do that. You need a secure rope to anchor you to the shore.
The Risen: Courage Page 18