Weathering Storms

by Taborri Walker

  “Listen, Sesha dear. We worship God and his son Jesus Christ because they told us how to live good lives. Do you understand that?”

  “You fol-low dey say,” she nodded.

  “Yes, that’s right! My Bible, the Holy Word tells us that we must be pure and holy before him. That’s why we came here. The other places we were at… they did many bad things.”

  “I sowwy…” she murmured, looking down at her skirt.

  “Would you like to learn about my God?” he asked. “I would like to show you my Holy Word. It’s a beautiful book.”

  “Oooo – kkkkk.” Calmer now, she got up again and started walking up and down the pews running her hands along the silky wood. The Reverend walked to her and offered her his arm, and with a pleased smile, she took it. “We wa’k now?”

  “Just a little walk, so you don’t get tired.” He turned her towards the pulpit.

  Beulah fled silently out the secret door but stayed there, listening. No one would see her as the garden was solidly fenced in and no one else was in the house.

  The Most Holy Lord Reverend opened the small gate to the pulpit and took her hand to draw her through his secret entrance. He certainly wasn’t thinking at the moment that Sesha, in her innocence, might reveal his little ploy and ruin part of his reputation. Right here and now sharing his most precious possession was more important than anything else. Just getting to touch her, with no one else around was clouding his mind to any possible danger to his plans.

  Sesha squeaked in alarm as he pulled her towards the straight board wall and pushed her head down, like he was going to ram her head into it. As hard as she could she fought back, so he caught her in his arms against himself and soothed her.

  “Be calm, thou troubled soul. The wall here be not thick wood as the rest of it, but heavy curtain painted to look the same. There be a slit in it lower down to come and go with no one to see. Look,” and turning a still-sobbing Sesha, he pushed against the wall and it gave, then he opened the slit and showed her.

  Sesha managed to wipe her face off with the handkerchief Allway handed her and sucked in a deep breath. Shni, are you still recording this?

  I am…. A cleverly constructed tunnel, eh? A portion of the wall painted to look like regular wood. Go through, Sesh, good… grip the edge of the curtain to feel how tight it’s fastened. Good. Now keep playing your part.

  Sesha squeaked in fear again and jumped right up to Allway, clinging hard to his arm in the darkened area. Since it was a tight fit, two people in a tunnel meant for one, he had to put his arms around her and hold her close until they got to his prayer room, which raised his lust even more.

  Be careful, Sesh… raging chemicals.

  I feel it, even through all this cloth. Zap him if I need you to, okay?

  No problem there. I’ll even long-distance it if he’s not directly touching your skin.

  Arriving in the small room she moved away from Allway to the patch light of dim light the roof window let in until the Reverend lit several candles.

  “Ooohhhh…” she said, and shuddered.

  “What’s the matter, dear?” he asked. “This is where God and I talk.”

  “Is no yite here…” she shuddered again. “God no yke yite?”

  “There is much candlelight now,” he soothed.

  “Is not yite,” she insisted. “Nah weal. Yike…” she looked up and saw the tiny window, and pointed. “Wan’ go now. Get’a-në here.” She shivered.

  “We’ll leave soon then,” he soothed. “I’ll show you the Holy Word first, and then we can go back outside.” He held out his hand so she took it, and he guided her to the pillows propped against the wall. To his surprise, she went back to the middle of the little room again, not wanting to leave the patch of real light.

  She sat on the prayer rug, and in the sun and candlelight looked so sweet and attractive that Peter knew he had to have her. Somehow he must manage it… he couldn’t wait. In his eyes Sesha was already his wife; he had prayed for a woman to give him heirs and God had provided just the same way He had for Abram. Why shouldn’t he perform his husbandly duties as his brother had done? But first, to set the tone.

  He took the book off the stand and murmured a prayer over it, then went down on his knees to hand it to Sesha.

  She inhaled at the sight of it – that much was expected – then inwardly recoiled in horror. She immediately recognized what the front cover was made of, not only by the sight, but by the feel of it.

  Women’s breast skin. Even the nipples were there. The preservation of the skin was well done. And she recognized what her fingers were feeling on the back. She kept her face perfectly emotionless as she turned the tome over and saw herself gazing on penile skin. The head wasn’t there, but that didn’t matter. It was the skin, thin and soft and well-preserved too, but the horror of touching it almost overwhelmed her.

  Sesh… this is bad. Th-the color of the skin means at tanning time it had been removed from a living person! Even Shni was aghast at this monstrous proof of a crime, making him stammer.

  She knew too because out of the ten Alliance planets, three of the races had skin color almost identical to this people, and two of those races had cannibalistic pasts. Their museums were full of ancient artifacts and Sesha had heard a lecture about tanning skin – biped forebrained being or lesser – that had sickened her. This… this was crude, compared to the Unek’ and Y’zari’s work, but it was close enough. Did this man use the brains of his victims to tan the flesh, as well? Bile rose in her throat as the picture of how gruesomely they died entered her mind. An ugly, painful death, being tied down and carefully skinned. She wasn’t sure who would have suffered worse – the mother, for having to suffer the longest, having both nipples removed or the father. Did this madman cut the penis off first and then skin it? Would be an easier task that way, the older man would bleed out rapidly and then have his skull cracked for ready removal of the brains to make tanning easier and better…

  Sesha drew a deep breath to compose herself and opened the book. It was written in a darkish fluid that gave off a faint odor – like blood. Sesha laid the book in her skirts, on her ankles and leaned close as if studying the letters, but let her little fingernail key in a sequence on the tiny Wrist-Gem computer pad. She then leaned forward in a different pose, as if giving her back relief, arms folded with the Gem right on the page and audibly sniffed the book.

  Computer, record and analyze what’s on the page… good. Now the front and back covers too. Better to risk this and have a record, when the shit hits the fan… if we get home, right, Shni? The cold chill that swept over her was less welcome than natural cold on any planet, and the fright she felt started her believing that no, she wasn’t going to get home now.

  “Why… smell bad?” she asked, handing him back the tome as if unimpressed with it and thought her voice cracked with the strain of acting.

  You’re fine, Sesh… keep going. Find a way to get out soon.

  “It’s just getting old,” he smiled. “This is a very special book. It has all the words God and his son Jesus told us. We do what they say. Can I read you some?”

  She nodded, smelling his pheromones, they were so thick. Maybe the scanner would pick up on that too. Thank the minds of brilliant Mathematicians for the super compression program!

  He opened the book and said “The Book of Matthew, chapter 5, verse 8: “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.”

  “Maa-few? Oo ees Maa-few? Where are god’s words?” She asked. “Wha’ ees god’s name? Oo say eet has god’s words. Talk me doze?”

  He drew in a deep breath and considered how to explain.

  “A long time ago, sweet child,” he began and she beamed.

  “Sto-rry?” the look on her face was expectant, happy.

  “Yes, dear,” he settled the book in his hand and let himself go into preaching mode but with simple language. “A long time ago, some very powerful men walked the Earth. God, who has always been, sp
oke to them, and they wrote down what He said.” He looked up to see Sesha’s head nodding eagerly. “A long time went by and many men wrote more things God told them.”

  “Oo say Je-sus say too?”

  “That’s right!” he was pleased; maybe she was getting it. “God had a son named Jesus. He grew up and taught men about God, his Father. People loved Him and they wrote down what he said, too. Then Jesus died,”

  “Oh…” her face fell. “Dat sad… he no see Fad-der anymore?”

  “He went back to God, His Father. And more men wrote down what Jesus had told them! And now I read His words and tell my people what He says, and they do it. We always try to do what the Bible says.”

  Sesha was silent a long moment, considering. She really was thinking, but it had to look like a hard work for the dainty woman they’d rescued. So she bit her lips, wrinkled her brows and sighed.

  “What, child?” he tried to stay soft.

  “Why… no wo-man?” it was an honest question, one that Sesha had really thought about as she had listened to his sermons. Men were everywhere, but women weren’t. “Let me read a portion to you,” He flipped through some pages and stopped. “Let the husband render unto the wife due benevolence: and likewise also the wife unto the husband. The wife hath not power of her own body, but the husband.” What this means, dearest Sesha, is…”

  “Oo say b’foh. Wo-man bad first.” She frowned at that.

  The Most Holy Lord Reverend gasped to hear her say that. He thought Sesha wasn’t listening, that she was lost in her own world, but here, here she was absorbing the Truth of the Word all along! Truly God was All – Powerful, to be able to bring light to an innocent Pagan’s mind!

  “That’s right, Sesha,” he smiled. “So they got punished; like children get spankings for being bad. God made the man to be in charge, like I am here. See, the Word also says For the husband is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church: and he is the saviour of the body. Therefore as the church is subject unto Christ, so let the wives be to their own husbands in everything.” We men have to protect the women from the wiles of Satan, lest they sin again.”

  “Why…” she might be pushing it, but she had to! “Wo-man Eve bad long, long, long, long back? Yes? Why be bad to-o-o Bee… um, Bee – you – lah? Fwoh-wnce, Say-rah, Grr-ace, um, Dee-ya, Deb’bah, all da nice wo-mans? Dey no do Eve do? My… tramain, uh, fad-er, he no make me… um, cwy foh wha’ my sis-er bad, only me bad. Why God no yike womans? Womans he-ah good. No yike Guh-od.” She put on a petulant face and crossed her arms, angry now.

  A flash of serious aggravation overwhelmed the Most Holy Lord Reverend. To counteract it he carefully shut the Precious Book and put it back on its stand. Maybe he would have to ignore converting her. The gap between their minds seemed wider than ever now. He thought for a few moments, watching her out of the corner of his eye as she continued to look around, shivering occasionally. She really seemed to not like it in here.

  One last idea came to him. A sympathetic approach…

  “Sesha,” he sat down beside her. “You like Beulah, yes?”

  Her face lit up and she nodded happily. “She ees… ver’ sweet. Miss my mama, Bee-lah, um, you-lah feel mama me. She smile me.”

  “She makes me smile,” he corrected and she repeated it slowly. “Well, dear Sesha, I need to tell you something.”

  “Um?” she asked, not really looking at him, but plucking at her skirt, wishing she could get out of there. Of a truth Sesha was getting a bit claustrophobic, especially being this close to the man and alone, which was a new and alarming emotion for her. In all her years, no male being had ever given her the horrible feelings this one did.

  “Beulah is… not well.”

  At that Sesha looked up in real alarm. The man’s face was set in a sad look, with expectation of trouble to come. “Is kahlee?…sick?”

  “Yes. She can’t get well. Sesha dear, I’m afraid – so very afraid – I’m going to lose her…” He burst into tears, and as he hoped, the young woman quickly opened her arms to give him comfort. He flung his overweight body into her arms with enough force to knock her over, fairly gently, he hoped, and against her prone body he sobbed, clutching her as she cooed at him and patted his shoulder while grimacing and gasping in pain. She’d twisted, then landed on something hard and it had jabbed her back, causing throbbing in the worst area.

  Oh, brother… thought Sesha when she stopped gasping for air. From this it’s going to go to kissing, then groping and he’s hoping to get sex. How’m I going to get out of this one and keep my disguise intact? The horror she felt at this man’s apparent insane crimes and plans was enough to make her sick too.

  17

  Outside the secret room, in the garden plot, Beulah froze in horror. She hadn’t been feeling well for a while back before Sesha had arrived!

  Perhaps four years ago she’d woken shortly after bedding down for the night and hurried to her sewing room where she threw up in the chamber pot kept there. Chilled to the bone, her stomach pained her for several hours but it finally passed. The woman wondered if she hadn’t eaten some spoilt meat by accident.

  A month went by and it happened again. Alarmed this time, Beulah managed to get to the infirmary where she was tended carefully. Florence had been smuggled from the women’s building and she forced more vomiting. Yet again it passed and Beulah put it in the back of her mind.

  It kept recurring though, always about a month apart, then a bit more frequent so Beulah began a diary, first of the day, month and time she became ill. It turned out it usually began at night, shortly after her husband brought her their nightly small cup of wine. This was homemade stuff made out of the fruits and blossoms of plants grown here, so she was thinking to avoid whichever one that was. Always at night, too, never during the day.

  It became habit to ask what kind of wine they were having as she hoped to avoid whichever one was causing the illness. Over time she discovered that she felt ill after drinking all of them, so what could it be? She tried to empty the small glass in a plant, when her husband looked away, but that didn’t happen often enough. The diary was noting her periods of illness were perhaps 2 weeks apart by the time Sesha arrived.

  Only two nights before the lass’s horse and buggy came through the entrance, Beulah even refused the offering, only to be gently scolded.

  “Our people have worked hard to produce such a fine vintage, and you would waste their work and goodness of heart? Shame, Beulah…”

  And had been sick that night.

  But now that she heard her husband’s “confession” of her fatal illness, she knew it had to be his doing somehow. After all, she’d only reported not feeling well to him (she’d not told him she was throwing up or worse in the middle of the night), and here he was telling Sesha he was going to “lose” her? How would he know… unless he was making her die slowly, such as with… poison?

  Another thought came to her; since Sesha’s arrival, she’d not been ill that way, not once. The ill feelings continued; Florence thought it was a chronic issue causing that. There’d been no wine shared as rarely Beulah had bedded with her husband. Now that Sesha was healing and learning the language, it wouldn’t be long… before…

  The revelation was so horrible that she seized a hoe propped nearby and began to whack away at the weeds to keep from screaming in horror and anger and rushing back into the secret room to confront him. After a minute the handle of the hoe also whacked – on the wall near the secret door. Beulah kept on hoeing, trying to look natural when inside she was a ravening wolf desiring to kill.

  Inside, Sesha realized someone was outside when she heard the thump against the building and prayed she knew who. The man hardly looked up from her bosom, which he was laying sobbing kisses on. But Sesha got excited.

  “Dat Bee-lah?” she chirped. “Wan’ show her!” She managed to give a mighty push and the rotund preacher was startled by how quickly she scrambled out from under him, gasping and snatching
at the pain in her back. Before he could naysay her, she’d found the latch and pushed open the door.

  Beulah looked around in amazement and half-shrieked with fright when the door swung open right beside her, but when she saw Sesha’s head poke out, she wasn’t sure what to say – until she saw Sesha deliberately smile, drop a long, slow wink and eyebrow wiggle at her.

  “Wha - ?” she gasped, confused, and then Sesha seized her wrist.

  “Oo ‘ave seen dees? tum, see! Is so namachet! Bee-you-tee-fool!” She yanked the woman into the Inner Sanctum that was supposed to be a secret. Sesha tried hard to keep a firm grip on Beulah’s wrist but noted with dismay that her hand was getting fairly weak and was secretly alarmed. She hoped this incident was a good beginning to the end of this colony!

  “Oh my goodness, Husband,” Beulah breathed in pretend astonishment as she looked around. “What be this? Tis a prayer place? It is… certes most wonderful…” As the man stood up hastily and adjusted his clothing – and penis – he only nodded. “Praise be to the Lord on High! Here be the prayer rug I made you for as a wedding gift fifteen year ago!” She dropped onto her knees and stroked it lovingly. “This wretched woman thought had been lost in the fleeing of Sodom and Gomorrah! And those pillows…” she fell silent, not sure she should say more as it might give her away, since she already knew of his lies.

  “Lovely wife, they wert found as the men were unpacking the goods for use in the Church,” he spewed the falsehood rapidly. “Mayhap had become mixed into other items and wast not found for a time. Being as thou made them for me to use in prayer, I did put them in my sanctum. For the digressing not assuring you, I beg thy forgiveness… the city was still in garboil.”

  “I forgive an’ am glad, then.” She lied as well, but her husband didn’t know that, and as Beulah wasn’t facing him, he didn’t see the expression she couldn’t subsume. But Sesha, as she turned back from picking up the Holy Book, caught it and knew that the woman would far rather the things been lost forever rather than have them become more of the lies destroying the last of her crumbling foundation of trust in her husband.