by Ker Dukey
“Your law, Father,” I say boldly, defiant. Heat rises to my cheeks. I hate his laws. His hit knocks me off my feet, pain exploding across the apple of my cheek, stealing my breath.
“Do I not provide a pleasing life for you both?” He advances a step toward me, and the need to cower beneath him causes my arms shake. “You will take over my position one day and lead our people. It will be the same law you pass down to your children. It’s safer this way. The only way to keep your souls pure.”
I die a little inside at his words. I don’t want to stay here, lead anyone…and children? I’m still a child myself. I don’t believe we should marry and birth as many children as possible. This is hell.
“If you say so, Father.” I nod. Because I have to. Provoking his wrath further isn’t worth it. I get to my feet, willing the tears not to fall.
“I do.” He pivots on his heel and I breathe a sigh of relief. I’m just about to take a step toward my room when he turns back. “And, Mona…no more morning visits to the watch the sunrise.” His words are more a warning than a request. The acid burn of sickness bursts over my tongue.
And just like a flower without the sun, I wilt inside.
“Okay.” I attempt to walk past him, but he steps in my way, his finger pinching and raising my chin.
“She’s been gone for a month. If she returns, she returns tainted by the outside world. It’s like a disease, Mona, and will need to be cleansed from her. Go to your room and pray for her soul.” A lump lodges in my throat, preventing me from saying anything else.
Would he really cleanse her? Yes.
I hope she never returns.
Hunger pangs squeeze my stomach, forcing me to leave my room in search of food. Usually, Father would have insisted I join them for dinner, but he’s punishing me for missing morning scripture. Like I need to read that book any more times. I can recite it from memory.
I pass my mother’s room, finding the door ajar with her sitting on the edge of her bed, her head in her hands. Rapping my hand gently on the wood panel, I enter and drop to the floor before her. “Mama?”
Grasping her hands in mine, sorrow grips my heart when I see the tears in her eyes. “I’m okay, my sweet girl.”
She’s not. There’s a fresh bruise coloring the skin beneath her eye.
“What happened, Mama?”
She sniffles, pulling her hands free and swiping at her eyes.
“Nothing.” She chuckles nervously. “I just mentioned your sister in front of your father. You understand how he gets.”
He’s the devil.
“Father wants me to pray for Clara’s soul,” I croak.
Her sniffles bring tears to my own eyes.
“He was raised here, Mona. This life is all he’s ever known.”
“And you?” I question, confused by her implication.
“I was too, but I’ve seen the world beyond our shores.”
A gasp wisps from my lungs. My eyes widen as tears threaten to roll down my cheeks. “I was sent by my family on a mission to recruit, teach people about repenting and believing. When your grandfather still led, it was what we did to bring God into the hearts of potential people of light. The true believers became one of us.”
“Is it really as bad as Father portrays it to be? Evil?”
“It’s very different from how we live. Corrupt and sinful.”
A wound opens in my chest, expanding with every thought of Clara out there alone. “Should we not go find her?”
“What if she’s not looking to be found? Would you want her coming home if she didn’t want to?”
“No. I suppose not.”
“Your father will forgive her if she chooses to return, but it has to be her choice.” She grasps my hands with a squeeze, but I know he won’t forgive her. He plans to cleanse her. Images of past cleansings flicker through my mind. An ache builds in my stomach.
“Please don’t condemn me to live without both my daughters,” she blurts.
“Wha-at?”
“You are both so close, I believe one day she’ll return for you. Promise me you won’t leave me too.”
Is that not my choice? “Mama.”
“Please,” she pleads, her grip turning painful.
Please, Mama, don’t force me stay. I want to scream, but I nod my head instead. “Okay. I promise.” The hole inside me caves in, swallowing me entirely.
Four
Mona
Rain dancing against the house acts as white noise, like I fell asleep with the radio on and woke to the station losing the signal, the buzzing relentless.
Rain usually soothes me, but this is different. There’s an echo in the fallen torrent. Clara.
Her voice grows with the strength of the storm building outside. Her words ricocheting all around. “Mona.”
Blood races through my veins, causing my heart to stammer.
Throwing back the covers, I leap from the bed and go to the window, forcing it up. The wood is old and in need of repair. The creaking makes my stomach ache. What if Daddy hears and thinks I’m sneaking out like her?
I swivel my head toward the door and listen for sounds of our parents. There’s just the rushing of rain and Clara’s voice dancing through the air, penetrating my ears. “Mona.” Her gentle tone whispers through the trees, beckoning me into their embrace.
Da-dum.
The wind howls, tossing my hair around as I climb through the small open space. Mud, thick and damp, squelches through my toes as I find purchase on the wet grass.
Da-dum.
I’ve never snuck out in a storm before, but the pull of my sister’s call is like a string inside my belly tugging me forward.
“Mona…”
I’m coming, Clara. Wait for me, I’m coming.
My feet stumble through the brush, my eyes seeking out my sister. “Clara,” I call back, “where are you?”
Only silence.
Night cloaks the sky, claiming the day and stealing my vision. It’s too dark. “Clara?” I repeat, fear building in my stomach. “Where are you?”
“Mona.” Her hushed murmur hums all around me. My feet begin moving faster, picking up speed through the shadows of the forest. Branches whip and tug at my clothes and flesh like hunters trying to capture their prey. Dark fog unfurls through the clearing, swallowing everything in its wake.
“Clara!” I cry out.
“Mona, help me.” Her scream cracks through the sky like thunder.
My fists curl. I can do this. Facing the thickening fog, I square my shoulders and ready myself. Bending a knee and arching my heel, I take off running toward it.
Shivers explode over my skin as I battle through the darkness. Hands grab at me, trying to drag me into the abyss. I trek on, following her voice. I run and run, my eyes squeezed shut until I feel water surround my feet. My eyes spring open. The shoreline. The stretched ocean ripples in the gentle breeze before me, only…it’s not water. Blood red brushes against the sand, spanning as far as I can see.
A sharp gasp pushes past my lips as I jump back. My heart pounds, manic inside my chest.
Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.
I bolt upright from my bed, panting for breath, my brow beaded with sweat. It was just a dream. Just a dream. A sudden, horrifying sound of an animal wailing jolts my heart. It sounds like thunder booming in my ears, My breathing becomes frantic. I search the darkness for my sister. Her space beside me is cold and empty. My brain stalls, needing a second to catch up with reality.
My eyes track the path to the window. It’s slightly ajar, like all the nights before. I worry my lip with my teeth.
She’s gone.
She’s not coming back.
I can feel it in the marrow of my existence.
Blue and red flashes dance over the ceiling of my room, making patterns appear down the wall. What is happening?
Creeping to the window, I look out. A boat is in the harbor. The lights are blinking, gaining an audience. Police never come to our island.
An ache coils in my stomach.
Voices, raised and alarmed, echo through the house, causing nausea to burn the back of my throat. “Clara?” I call out on a whisper.
Attentively, I walk across the room, entering the hallway to listen. The voices become more transparent. The wailing wasn’t an animal at all—it’s my mother.
My feet shuffle across the floor until I’m standing in the living room.
Mother’s at my father’s feet, her hands clinging to the fabric of his pajama bottoms. He’s speaking with two policemen. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen them in real life. On our island, we have our own enforcers. I’ve only seen police officers in drawings and storybooks.
They’re dressed in matching uniforms, their hands latched before them holding their hats, their badges glaring their authority. No matter how much my father wants to shut out the outside world, their laws have spilled onto our island .
“Mama?” I call out, worry eating away at me. “What’s happening? Why are they here?”
“Mona,” my mother hiccups, clawing her way up my father’s legs until she’s standing. Rushing forward, she grasps me in a tight hold, pinning me to her body.
“Oh, Mona. She’s gone, she’s gone,”
I realize she means Clara.
Da-dum. Da-dum. Da-dum.
“It’s okay, Mama. She’ll come home,” I assure her. She has to. She told me she would show me the world.
Sniffling, she pulls away, holding me by my arms. “No, Mona. She’s never coming home. She’s in the arms of the angels now.”
My heart begins to pound in my ears, fire setting my eyes ablaze. “No, she’s coming home,” I state, my voice cracking. She’s coming to collect me, show me the world. She promised.
“She’s coming home,” I state again, firmer.
“Katherine,” my father barks. My mother releases me and sidles up next to him. I strain to listen when the policeman says, “Murder investigation. Her body will need formal identification.”
Murder…her body…
My legs give way beneath me.
I see now.
I understand.
She’s not coming home.
Murder?
“Mama?” I cry out.
Someone stole her light.
A killer.
A thief.
Five
Mona
5 years later…
“Mona.” Clara’s voice calls, beckoning me. Even in my dream state, I recognize it’s too late. She’s gone. Sirens scream in warning, the red and blue lights haunting.
“Mona.” The voice distorts, changing, deepening. “Mona.” Hot air bursts over my ear, and I jar awake, sitting upright like a spring in a jack-in-the-box.
“Shhh,” Eli hushes me, an amused grin on his lips. “You didn’t meet me,” he whispers, and it takes me a couple seconds to shake the sleep fog from my brain. The room is cast in a slither of moonlight, a heavy breeze billowing the fabric of the drapes from the open window. “What are you doing here?” I whisper-yell, rushing to my feet, pushing him toward the open window.
“I was worried when you didn’t meet me.” He slips his lean body back through the window he snuck in from. I look down at my clothes. I never changed into my sleepwear. I must have fallen asleep while reading. “Come on,” he urges, reaching a hand back inside to help guide me out.
Checking behind me to see my bedroom door closed and the harbor is clear, I bite my lip and climb out. A rush of adrenaline spikes through my blood as we head off running toward the tree line hand in hand. The wind is bitter tonight and bites at the flesh of my skin.
Once the canopy of trees hides us, we slow to a walk.
“Have you thought about your plans tomorrow?” He shoves his hands into his pockets.
Rolling my eyes, I kick some leaves gathered by the tree stump that’s been our meeting place for the last two years. “I don’t want to go.” I frown.
Thoughts of Megan’s cleansing tomorrow sends dread through me.
She, like Clara, dreamed of more and crept onto one of the boats leaving for supplies. She was caught, imprisoned for a year, and now she’s being forced into a cleanse. My father speaks of the evil of the outside world yet inflicts his own form on the women here.
“I was talking about your birthday.” Eli frowns.
“You know I hate celebrating my birthday.” I shrug. Images of my sister flutter through my thoughts, bringing the usual ache that accompanies the memories.
“She wouldn’t want you not to celebrate. All she ever wanted was for you to live.”
“And what is living?” I pull a leaf from the branch hanging overhead, tearing it into pieces. Circling this island day in and day out. Listening to words read from a book manipulated to benefit my father and the men who are just like him. I look down at my plain gray dress, irritation flaring inside me. I want color in my life, to pick my own clothes and wear them however I please.
“Marrying me. Together, we can rule this place. Your father is ready to train you. He wants you to take his place as the head of our people. It worries him that he didn’t have a son to take over his rule. He wants you to marry someone devoted, willing to carry on his legacy of ruling our people.”
“Our people? You mean the island? People aren’t possessions, Eli.” I fold my arms over my chest, facing him. His dark eyes look like soggy mud in this light.
“And since when do you understand so much about what he wants?”
I feel betrayed by his need to get close to my father to become one in the inner circle.
“Don’t be like this. You get I have the ambition to lead one day.”
“Don’t you want to see what’s out there?” I ask, sighing.
Grabbing my arm, he scowls, looking at me like I just said the earth is flat.
“Mona, you’re not serious? You recognize what’s out there: evil. The killer who took Clara from us.”
Flashes of Clara’s coffin fire into my mind like bullets from a gun. Wounding, scaring. Clara snuck away that night like many before it. She must have had a destination. Someone or somewhere she was running to. Was it them who killed her, or just a random monster? Is that what it’s like out there—death and murderers waiting at every turn?
My father forced me to see her body. Her skin had turned an awful shade of blue. She didn’t look real, like a marble model of her former self. There was a slit cut into her skin from chest to groin. They stole her heart directly from her chest. I will never find peace with the information that she was being butchered while I slept. I will never be free of that image—or that her heart was never found, never returned to us.
“Did your mother ever speak of the outside world?”
He pushes away from me and turns to lean against a tree. “You know I don’t like to speak about her. It pains me that she wasn’t a true islander.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nothing.”
The waves lapping at the shore can be heard in the still of night. Like a siren’s call, I want to feel it on my feet.
“There must have been some good or Clara wouldn’t have kept going back. Do you not wonder?”
“No,” he snaps, and I jerk my head toward him. “I’m sorry,” he exhales. Coming over to me, he smooths a hand down my hair. “It’s just painful thinking about her slipping off to God knows where with God knows who and me not aware of it happening, not being able to stop her, to help her.”
I understand how he feels. I did know what she was doing, and I didn’t stop her. Granted, I was young, but if I had tattled on her, she might be alive right now.
“Have you ever been off this island?” I ask, a shiver skating up my spine, making me shudder.
“No, and I don’t want to ever leave here or be anywhere else.” He slips out of his jacket and cloaks it over my shoulders. “This is our home. We belong here. You belong here.”
“I don’t know where I belong anymore,” I tell him truthfully, tears burning the corner
s of my eyes. I feel like I’m suffocating every day.
“What is that supposed to mean?” His tone is ice-cold, sending a wave of chills rippling up my spine. I hate that he doesn’t feel what I feel, that he can’t understand my need.
“When Clara was taken from us, it was like I lost a part of myself. My soul fled my body when her pulse left hers.” I plead for him to understand, to recognize part of me died with her. But he never will. He has no siblings.
“You’ll be okay. Your missing piece is closer than you think. She’s beside you right now, in your dreams when you close your eyes, your prayers when you read scripture. You have to trust God’s plan.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” I ask, looking at his features cast in the glow of the moonlight slipping through the gaps in the branches. He’s handsome in a classic kind of way: clean lines, square jaw, petite nose, dark eyes with contrasting blond hair. He should be enough, but there’s something missing when we’re together.
“With all my heart. There are rules for a reason, Mona. Clara broke them and met a terrible fate. That’s got to make you believe in your father’s vision, his faith.”
Hypocrite. Hypocrite. You speak so loud and hear nothing.
“We break the rules,” I admonish.
A smile lights his face. His palms loosen and slip down my arms to grip my hips. “We bend the rules. There’s a difference.”
“How is it different?”
“Well, you will be my wife when you finally accept your fate, and then no one will ever have to be privy to the fact we consummated the union long before our wedding night.”
I ignore the tightening of my chest and push him back against a tree. “You talk too much.”
“Then shut me up.” He grins, stealing my lips in a kiss that doesn’t cause my stomach to dance with butterflies like Clara once told me it should. I embrace him, giving him my tongue and allowing my hands to dip inside his slacks to caress the hardness there, willing the feelings I wish I had to come over me. There’s just the motions, the sensation. I play the game, doing my part, taking my turn and giving him all the right sounds, but there’s a longing inside me calling out to the water, to the world beyond it.
