Mama P made no promises.
AF9 1.0
“AREN’T YOU A clever little striver,” the angel said. “You’ve come up with your own song.”
The raven stood on the table pecking at the golden marble and pulling off a half-dozen strips of its foil-skin. Each strip shrank into a tiny seed, which the raven swallowed and stored in its crop.
“Hurry, my pet, deliver these and come back for more before the boneheads lock me up again. And please don’t get too smart for your own good. At least not yet.”
THE RAVEN FLEW far and wide. It regurgitated its payload seed by seed over mountain peaks, glaciers, remote woods, riverbanks, deep gullies — anywhere humans were unlikely to venture or look anytime soon. Everywhere the bird stopped, tulips began to sprout. Let the tulips bloom.
AF10 1.0
“I PRAYED UP a storm,” Poppy said. “I’ve been on my knees for forty-eight hours straight.”
Angel Martha slouched against the wooden table as though too weary to stand up straight. Her stubby wing was still horribly misshapen, perhaps worse than before. And her angelic radiance had dimmed.
“I am glad to hear it, son of Abraham. With prayer comes clarity. Tell me what you have decided.”
“I have decided to help you.”
“It gladdens my heart to hear this, though it comes as no surprise. I knew that your love of the Father surmounts all other affairs of your life.”
“Maybe it does, but the decision didn’t come easy. You know, Martha, I have taken the name Prophecy, but I’m no prophet. I just try to keep myself open to the whispers of the Holy Spirit. I used to think the Holy Spirit led us to this place to shield my family from the devastation of the End Times. I said, Let the armies of the Antichrist do their worst. Let them scorch the Earth. Let them slaughter everyone in their path. We would be safe in our keep.
“And I must confess, I was puffed up with all we accomplished here. But now I see how blind I was. Father God didn’t lead us here to sit out Armageddon on our asses. I know this now, and I accept it, though I still fear for the lives of my babies. Yet, when Father God calls, who can resist?”
Martha bowed her head. A tear, a liquid diamond, ran down her cheek. “Praise Him,” she said.
“Praise Him. Amen.” Poppy pulled a rag from his pocket and blew his nose. “So, tell me, Martha,” he continued, “how do I shoot off this emergency flare of yours?”
“Pull either flap from the key, but do not hold onto it. Pull it off and let it go. As soon as it comes free, drop it.”
As Uzzie had discovered in the machine room, the otherwise perfect sphere had two flaps. Poppy grasped one of them and pulled. It was softer than before, and it came away easily from the golden marble. Although he let it go immediately, it grew so hot so quickly it singed his fingertips, and he put them in his mouth.
The liberated flap danced around the tabletop for a few moments, like a drop of water on a hot skillet. And when it settled, it was a tiny ball, the size of a pea. It sat in a little dimple of scorched wood.
“Now what?”
Angel Martha laid out the steps Poppy was to follow. They weren’t complicated. He was to take the tiny sphere to a remote, forested area of his choosing and drop it on the ground. That was all there was to it, except that once he dropped the sphere, he was to leave the area as fast as he could.
“And you must do it tonight,” Martha concluded. “There’s no more time to lose. You must accomplish this mission tonight, or not at all.”
“Tonight is good.”
AF11 1.0
THE SKIS HAD been discarded behind an outlying shed, along with lumber scraps and empty paint cans. A decades-old trash midden.
The skis were of an ancient Nordic style, made from laminated wood. The varnish had chipped off eons ago, and the leather bindings were missing, eaten by voles.
“I don’t know about this,” Ginger said. “Don’t you have anything newer?”
“We don’t have skis because none of us ever learned how to ski,” Sarai said. “We never learned in California.”
“I suppose I could make them work,” Ginger said. “I’ll have to make new bindings of some sort and ski poles.” But when she found a large crack at the curved tip of one of them, she tossed the skis back into the refuse pile. “On second thought, I’ll just walk.”
“It’s sixteen miles to town,” Sarai said.
“I only need to get to the Bunyans’. They’ll help me.”
Sarai wasn’t fond of the idea of the Bunyans involved in her family’s affairs. “Eight miles then, but in this cold?”
“It’s not that cold or that far.” Big words coming from a Wallis girl who drove her Camry everywhere she went. Also, her home in Wallis was near the Gulf of Alaska where it never got really cold, not like it did here on Stubborn Mountain.
“You could drive a sno-go,” Sarai said. “I know where Poppy keeps spare spark plugs. They’re in the safe in the prayer cabin, and I know the combination. I seen him open it once.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
“’Cause he keeps the cabin door locked when he’s not there. But I thought maybe if he wants me again . . .”
“No! I already told you. That’ll never happen again.”
“But it’s not like it’s a sin, is it? The prophets of old did it. He read me the verses. And on account of Mama —”
“It is a sin. It’s rape. It’s incest, for heaven sake. You are a victim, Sarai. Unless we turn your father in to the authorities, Cora or Frankie or Myrrh will be his next victim. Is that what you want?”
“No, of course not. But he wouldn’t touch them anyway. I am the special daughter, the one Father God gave him for his ease and comfort. Not even my twin. Just me.”
“Will you please get that out of your head. There’s no such thing as a special daughter. He made that up.” And before Sarai could disagree, Ginger added, “No matter what verses he pretends to read you, it’s a lie.”
They retraced their steps in the snow in silence. At the edge of the yard, Sarai stopped abruptly.
“What is it?” Ginger said.
“Only just my brother.”
Like she had only one. Ginger scanned the yard and at first didn’t see anyone there. “Which brother?” Then she saw a man pointing a rifle at them. “What the —”
A blast shattered the afternoon stillness, and bits of black feathers rained down upon their heads. A black shape fell from the tree next to them into the snow where it thrashed on the ground.
Proverbs jogged across the yard, and Ginger demanded, “What did you do?”
“I saved your soul is what I did,” he said, grabbing her arm and drawing her toward the house. “Let’s get you back inside.”
“Don’t touch me!” Ginger shouted, throwing off his hand. “That was a bird! Birds are not demons! Birds are God’s creatures, you freak!”
Sarai stepped between them. “Don’t speak to my brother that way.”
But Ginger was too wound up to stop. “I’m going to report what he did. You hear me, creep? Ravens are protected. And that moose you poached? Oh, yes, I know all about the moose. You think I don’t? You can’t just go around killing everything you see and get away with it.”
Proverbs reeled under the attack, but Ginger wasn’t finished. “What do you think?” she said, her voice so tight it squeaked. “That killing things is sexy? That you’ll attract girls that way? Well, I’ve got news for you, Romeo — it’s not the least bit attractive. It’s repulsive. You’re repulsive. You make me want to vomit.”
Proverbs stood there, taking it, rubbing his eye under the patch. When her fury was spent, he said, “We kill moose to feed ourselves.”
But Ginger wasn’t listening. She turned abruptly and set off across the yard to the house. Brother and sister watched her go. Finally, Proverbs said, “She wants to turn me in to Fish and Game?”
“I think so.”
“Stupid bitch.”
“Proverbs! Language!”
/> “I’m sorry, but she is.” He expelled the cartridge from his rifle and chambered a new round before continuing toward the tree.
“Where are you going?”
“I gotta make sure I killed the damned thing.”
“Your tongue, brother.”
“It is damned. It’s a demon, ain’t it? That’s the very meaning of damned.” An unexpected smile flashed across his face. “Go on, say it. It feels good, and this is the one time you can say it.”
“Damned thing,” Sarai said, trying it out.
“See?”
“Damned thing,” she repeated, following him around the tree. “Damned thing! Damned thing! Damned thing!”
“Whoa there, sister. Don’t wear it out. Did you see where the demon fell?”
She pointed, and Proverbs began to wade through the snow to the spot. But before he was halfway there, there was an explosion of snow, and the black bird powered into the sky on supercharged wings. Proverbs brought up his rifle and snapped off another round, but the damned thing was gone. They watched the sky, shaken by the demon’s resilience.
They walked back to the house together. “The problem is,” Sarai said, “we all seen wonders, just like now, but she hasn’t. I seen the trumpet. The rest of you seen that plus the handprint. You and Adam and Hosea seen the angel. We don’t need no convincing, but she does. Her faith isn’t as strong as ours.”
“So? What can I do about it? You saw the way she hates me.”
“Show us the angel.”
Proverbs grunted. “Poppy says no.”
“I know he does, but it’s either that or you can forget about her. I thought you wanted her for a wife. You want her to stay, don’t you? Not leave and rat you out to Fish and Game.”
“I can’t just take you up there.”
POPPY WAS SAFELY settled into his prayer cabin. His curtain was open. He was propped up in the daybed, reading, the Bible it looked like.
They ran into Corny and Ithy loading toboggans with supplies at the bottom of the slide. Corny wore a Ruger .22 pistol on his belt, and Ithy had a rifle slung over his shoulder. The boys stared at Ginger, but before either of them had a chance to say anything, Proverbs told them to mind their own business.
“Or what?” Corny said. “You calling the shots now, brother? That eyepatch make you the boss? You know Poppy doesn’t want her in the keep.”
Sarai got into the boy’s face. “Knock it off.”
“Or what?” Corny repeated. “Now I gotta take orders from a girl?”
“No, you don’t, but let me ask you something; have you seen the angel?” She turned to Ithy. “How about you?”
Neither boy could meet her gaze.
“That’s what I thought. Poppy told you to stay away from the angel too, didn’t he? But you decided for yourselves to go behind his back, and now you want to tell us what to do?”
The two middle boys made excuses about getting back to work, and Proverbs asked where Adam and Hosea were working.
“Adam’s in the cottage. Hosea’s in the storeroom.”
AS THE TWO girls and Proverbs made their way to the break room, the illumination in the tunnel increased gradually. Near the ramp intersection, the tunnel was so bright they could turn off their headlamps.
Proverbs stopped at the ramp and said, “You two go on. I’ll stay here in case anyone comes down. You can’t miss the angel because of — you know — her light. And also ’cause she’s like ten feet tall.”
“Her?” Ginger said. “The angel is a her?”
“Yeah. Her name is Martha.”
“Interesting.”
PROVERBS WASN’T KIDDING about the light. The doorway to the break room blazed like the sun. But as they approached it, the brilliance dimmed to a tolerable level, and a musical voice came from within. “Welcome, daughter of Abraham.”
The girls stepped through the doorway and were overwhelmed by the very sight of her, the size of her, her beauty, the heavenly light emanating from her flesh, and her air of mastery.
Sarai began to cry on the spot. Ginger was dumbfounded. It was real! Ginger had been so sure of Poppy’s lunacy, but here was something she could not explain away.
The angel tipped her head toward Sarai, and her glowing halo struck sparks on the rocky ceiling. “Hail, special daughter of the prophet, who knows the Father’s commands and faithfully embraces them.”
“Me?” Sarai said. “Father God knows about me?”
“Of course He does,” Martha said. Her smile was so glorious it filled the girl’s heart. “The Father knows thee and heaps praise and blessings upon thy head.”
Sarai became dizzy and had to sit down on a bench.
“The Father would only ask that thou cease punishing thy flesh, for thy earthly form is a gift He has given thee, and it must not be unduly spoiled.”
“I’ll stop,” Sarai sobbed. “I’m sorry.”
“Wait a minute,” Ginger said. Despite her utter amazement, she felt compelled to speak. “Are you seriously telling her it’s okay with God what her father does to her?”
The angel turned to Ginger with a look of disgust. “What accursed imp do we have here?”
“Uh, this is my friend, Ginger,” Sarai said.
The angel pointed at Ginger’s chest. “Your friend has acquired unwelcome company.”
“Excuse me?” Ginger said, examining herself. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Leave us, fiend. You’ve seen what you came to see. Remove your filthy presence from this sanctuary.”
Sarai said uncertainly, “You want us to go, angel?”
“No, not thee, cherished one. Only her. I pray thee stay and favor me with the joy of thy company. And I pray thee resist thy false friend’s lies. She can only do thee harm and lead thy soul to grief. Prithee stay away from her.”
“You’re right,” Ginger said. “I have seen what I came to see. I’ll go now. Come on, Sarai. Let’s get out of here.” Ginger went to the doorway. “Are you coming?”
Sarai was plainly torn. “But the angel wants me to stay.”
“Of course she does,” Ginger said, returning to grab Sarai’s arm.
Sarai continued to gaze at Martha even as Ginger pulled her away. “Thank you, angel,” she said. “I can’t tell you how much this means to me what you said about me. You’ve given me back . . . my whole life. Thank you. Thank you.”
“Thy life was always thine own,” the angel said. “Thy father is a holy man.”
“No, he’s not!” Ginger said. “He’s a child molester and a rapist.”
“Begone, imp,” Martha commanded. The angel grew so bright that Ginger had to cover her eyes. But not Sarai. “Cherished one,” Martha said to Sarai, “I see thy brother standing guard several steps away. Prithee ask him to summon thy father to speak with me.”
“Yes, angel,” Sarai said. “I will.”
BAGS AND BASKETS of dirty laundry awaited Sarai in the arctic entry, courtesy of Deut. Proverbs volunteered to help her move the laundry to the bathhouse. But when Ginger offered to pitch in as well, Sarai told her she didn’t need her help anymore.
Ginger said, “You don’t believe what that thing said, do you?”
“How can you see a real-life angel and call her a thing?”
“Because whatever she is, she’s no angel. Angels don’t lie, and all she told were lies.”
“You really are possessed, aren’t you?”
“Whatever,” Ginger said and went into the kitchen.
As Proverbs and Sarai carried loads of laundry across the yard, Proverbs said, “What was that all about?”
“Nothing.”
“You told her she was possessed. That don’t sound like nothing.”
“I’m not sure that’s what the angel meant, but she told me to stay away from her.”
“The angel told you to stay clear of Ginger?”
“Yes.”
“Great,” Proverbs said. “I defy Poppy’s orders and take you guys to the angel, an
d what do I get out of it? A possessed girlfriend. Thanks a lot.”
Inside the bathhouse, Sarai hummed a little tune while lighting the barrel stove. Proverbs laid the hose from the pump house and offered to load the washing machine. But Sarai said, “I’ll take it from here. Don’t you have to go tell Poppy? The angel wants to talk to him.”
“Yeah, but what am I going to say when he finds out I took you girls up there?”
“It’ll be all right,” Sarai said. She looked happier than Proverbs had ever seen her. “Just tell Poppy that his special daughter is blessed in the Father’s eyes. I’m a good person, brother. The angel says so.”
AF12 1.0
POPPY STARED AT the steep, switchback trail above and sighed. This was his second climb of the day.
“Are you all right, lord,” Proverbs said. “Do you need to sit down?”
“Don’t be stupid. I’m fine. You go on ahead. Tell Adam to wait for me at the ramp.”
“Can you make it on your own?”
“Go. Just go.”
THEY WERE ALL waiting for him at the ramp: Adam, Hosea, Proverbs, Corny, Solly, Ithy, and Uzzie, all the older and middle boys.
“No, no, this isn’t what I told you at all,” Poppy said. “Adam goes with me. The rest of you get back to work. Armageddon won’t wait for you to stand around scratching your butt.”
“GREETINGS, SONS OF Abraham,” Martha said as they entered. “Be of good cheer.” Her radiance was dialed down to a modest level, and she looked weaker than the last time Poppy visited.
“Is there some change of plans?” Poppy said. He turned to Adam. “I haven’t told you yet, but I decided to shoot off Martha’s flare.”
“Praise Him.”
“Praise His holy name. Amen. Tonight.”
“Tonight, lord?”
“We do it tonight, unless Martha has a change of plans.”
“No,” Martha said. “No change of plans, though we may have to adjust them.”
“Why? What happened?”
“This sanctuary is only secure because it is off the traveled pathways of the world. Indeed, neither Satan nor the Antichrist know we are here. They have consulted sorcerers and witches and dispatched spies to every land, but we are as yet invisible to them. This wilderness has served us well. Our isolation is our greatest defense, and —”
Upon This Rock Page 27