by Urban, Tony
“Remember how much you wanted to eat this dog?” He asked.
“Barbara blinked and looked at him. “What?”
“When I found him, and we thought he was going to die. All of you thought we should eat him.”
She gave a slight smirk at that. “Supper,” she said. “I wonder how he’d have tasted.”
Supper stopped in place, looked at her, and gave a quick Bark.
Wyatt laughed. “I don’t think he appreciates your curiosity.”
“Probably not.”
Wyatt extended the ball to her. “Want to give it a toss?”
Barb accepted and made a half-hearted throw. Supper looked at him, as if conveying Lame before trotting after it.
Wyatt took the opportunity to take a seat beside his mother, putting himself between her and the wine. He rested his hand on her knee.
“How are you holding up, mom?” He asked.
“I’m fine.”
“I mean for real. No BS. Are you going to be okay?”
She looked at him, her eyes glistening with tears. “I’ll muddle through.”
Her words carried no weight and he realized she might be even further gone than he realized. “I can’t even imagine how hard all of this has been on you.”
“On me?” She asked. “You were shot. You almost died. Don’t worry about me and take care of yourself.”
“I want to take care of all of us. And to do that, we need to leave this place.”
She gasped as if that were the most shocking thing she’d ever heard. “What? You were just…” She paused, considering the right word. “Promoted. Why do you want to leave now?”
Wyatt began to wonder if this plan had any chance. He’d figured his mother, who’d lost her only friend here, would be easiest to convince. “Because it’s only a matter of time before they make me build a new army and lead another attack. How do you think that’s going to go?”
She didn’t answer.
“Mom, this is all a mirage. It looks good from a distance but when you get close enough you realize it’s not at all what you were promised. This place is toxic.”
She stayed silent for a long while. Supper returned with the ball three more times before she spoke again.
“Your brother will never leave.”
“If he chooses Papa over us, then maybe he should stay behind.”
Barbara flinched. He saw her clenched hands grinding in her lap. “I can’t leave him, Wyatt. I can’t keep losing people.”
He understood. “If I can convince him, you’d go?”
His mother nodded. “Of course.”
Supper dropped the ball into Wyatt’s lap, but he didn’t throw it that time. He was too busy trying to find a way for all of them to get out.
What he never saw was Franklin standing in the shadows of the casino, listening to every word he’d said.
Chapter 50
Wyatt cornered Seth before the day’s festivities began. He’d waited for Rosario to leave the room, probably to fetch them breakfast, until he made his move.
He banged on the door and waited, bouncing on his feet, his body full of nerves. This had to work. He had to get through to his brother, otherwise everything he’d endured was for nothing.
After half a minute he heard Seth’s wheels on the tile floor. “Forget your key, Rosie?” He opened the door, blinking sleep from his eyes as he found Wyatt instead of his girlfriend.
“Morning, brother,” Seth said with a yawn.
Wyatt pushed into Seth’s room and closed the door behind him.
“Yeah, sure, come on in,” Seth said.
Wyatt didn’t bother with pleasantries. “Seth, I’m not going to waste your time.”
“Good man.”
“Have you ever thought about getting out of here?” Wyatt asked.
Seth flashed his Cheshire cat grin. “Stop fucking with me.”
“I’m serious.”
Seth’s eyes narrowed, his expression now wary. “This is what we left home for, Wyatt. This place. It’s everything we wanted. I mean, fuck, Papa just named you the Protector. We’re going to run this place, brother!”
This wasn’t the way Wyatt had hoped the conversation would go but he’d known it was in the realm of possibilities. Maybe even expected it. “This ego trip shit? I don’t want that. I don’t want to be in charge of anything. I want to live a normal life, that’s all.”
“Normal,” Seth huffed. “That’s easy for you to say. You’re not some one-legged asshole in a wheelchair.” Seth rolled his chair into Wyatt’s legs. “I’m never going to be normal, Wyatt. You think a woman like Rosario would give me a second look if it wasn’t for my place here? The power I have?”
“Come on. You’re letting Papa get inside your head. You’d don’t need to be someone’s lapdog to matter.”
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Wyatt knew that was a mistake. Seth’s face went cold, his eyes blazed.
“You laugh at me, brother. You always have. You pretended to take care of me, but it was all about you. Wyatt, Wyatt, Wyatt being the good brother. Being the noble one.” He pounded his remaining leg. “If I wasn’t in this fucking chair, people would see me! But you know what? Papa appreciates me.”
Seth took a deep breath, then another. Some of the anger left him. “When Yahweh takes Papa home, I’m going to take his place. And then everyone will see what I can do.”
Wyatt still couldn’t swallow what Seth was saying to him. “You really drank the Kool-Aid, little brother.”
His lips pouted and he could feel his emotions spilling over. He was ready to cry at what had become of Seth. He didn’t want to leave his brother behind, but if he stayed, he risked losing everything. And that he couldn’t do. “I love you Seth, but I’m leaving. We all are.”
Seth shook his head. “I love you, too Wyatt. But I can’t let that happen.” Seth nodded and Wyatt realized he was signaling to someone further back in the suite. He spun around but was too late. Glass shattered against his head and he crumpled to his knees.
When he looked up, he saw Franklin towering above him, the remnants of a vase in his hand. Then Seth wheeled around and came into view.
“Wyatt, I’m sorry. But maybe it would’ve been better for you if you had just stayed dead.”
Franklin swung the thick, heavy bottom of the vase at Wyatt’s face.
“This is for the greater good,” Seth said.
And then everything disappeared.
Chapter 51
The best way to avoid a hangover was to stay drunk. That information had served Barbara well over the last couple months and it kept her head from spinning today too.
Despite a good buzz, the constant thudding of the music and the boisterous chatter of the partygoers made her want to retreat to her room with a bottle. She liked a good party as much as anyone, but this was a little much.
She scanned the crowd for Wyatt. She hadn’t seen him all day and wondered if he’d had a chance to talk to Seth yet.
The idea of leaving scared her. The constant danger of life on the road was too fresh in her mind. But she knew her son was right. This place was sour. And she needed a new beginning.
As far as she could tell, Wyatt hadn’t shown up for lunch, which had been an even better spread than the previous day’s. Even though her belly was full of booze, she managed to down a plateful.
Seth sat at the front of the room, to Papa’s right. Franklin sat on the left. Barbara had just begun to make her way toward him, to ask about Wyatt, when Papa grabbed the microphone.
“Does everyone have a full belly?” He asked.
The crowd answered in the affirmative.
“Good, good. Because this feast has been supplied to us by Yahweh himself. And what do we say to Yahweh?”
“Thank you!” The crowd roared.
“Exactly,” Papa said. “Now that we have enjoyed His bounty, it is time for us to give back.”
Papa stood, a movement that took considerable effort an
d time. His white, linen clothing did little to conceal his colossal girth, but it also gave him an undeniable presence as he addressed his followers.
“It has been many years since we’ve celebrated the tombola. Some of you have never witnessed the glory of this palaver, but today we remedy that!”
“We love you, Papa!” A woman shouted from the crowd. “We trust you!”
Papa shared a grandfatherly chuckle. “I thank you for that child. But it is not me who deserves the credit. It is in Yahweh that I trust.”
More cheers.
Barbara rolled her eye. She had heard it all, day in and day out and she’d grown to loathe the constant God bothering. It would be one thing if Papa preached the bible or spoke about Christ, about love and forgiveness, but this was more the rambling of a TV evangelist whose ultimate goal was filling his personal coffer. Maybe these people believed Papa’s schtick, but she did not.
“It is now time that we repay Yahweh for all that He has done for us.”
Papa’s guards stepped into view. Each held a large basket filled with folded pieces of paper. They brought them to the big man and set them at his feet. He nodded to them and they left.
“My children, the tombola has begun!”
Chapter 52
Seth watched the goings on, his heart racing. He knew this was a defining moment. That he was part of something bigger than him. Bigger than Papa. That he was going to see Yahweh’s power at work.
He took no pleasure in what happened to his brother. It was necessary because Wyatt didn’t understand. Wyatt didn’t believe. If Wyatt was here, he would have caused a spectacle and shamed his family. Sometimes unpleasant things had to be done. That was the way of the world.
Seth reached over and took Rosario’s hand. It was cool and damp. She pulled back.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” Seth whispered. “You just need to have faith.”
Rosario wouldn’t, couldn’t, meet his gaze. She jumped up and scurried away, moving through the crowd and toward the casino. He couldn’t understand why she was so scared. Nothing bad was going to happen to her, or to him. Papa wouldn’t allow that. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever understand women.
Seth watched her for a moment, but soon enough his attention was drawn back to Papa.
He motioned toward the baskets. “On these pieces of paper are your names,” Papa said to the crowd. Every man and woman in the community. That includes Seth.” Papa pointed at him. “Franklin.” The tall man nodded to the crowd. “And myself, of course. Because I am not above any one of you. In Yahweh’s eyes we are all equals. I am nothing but His vessel.”
Papa plunged a hand into each bowl. “Are you ready for the drawing?” He asked.
“Yes!” the crowd roared.
Papa smiled. As he did Seth noticed thin, viscous fluid draining from the sores on his face. That intermixed in with the sweat which poured from his brow. Between the exertion of standing and the frenzy of the moment, he looked as if he’d just gone the distance in a marathon.
The big man rummaged through the baskets, digging, diving. He had a flair for the dramatic and dragged the moment out for just the right amount of time before stepping back.
In each hand he held a paper. And then he turned to Seth.
“Seth, I want you to close your eyes and pray. Ask Yahweh to take control of your voice, your mouth, and tell me what He says.”
Seth did as told even though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to do. So, he asked God for guidance. Asked him to give him the answer Papa sought. There was nothing but silence at first, so he squeezed his eyes tighter and asked again.
Please, God, tell me what I’m supposed to say.
And then he knew.
He opened his eyes and looked to the crowd. Then he turned to Papa.
“Left hand.” Seth said.
Papa gave a slow nod. He dropped the paper he’d held in his right hand. It fluttered to the floor and landed by Seth’s feet.
Then, Papa opened his left hand. He opened the piece of paper, silently read what was written on it, and beamed. “Yahweh has made His decision.”
Chapter 53
Wyatt had regained consciousness a few hours earlier, coming to in a locked hotel room on the third floor. A room that gave him a bird’s eye view of the celebration going on thirty-odd feet below.
His head still rung like a bell and he was weary of the ongoing, nonstop noise of the party. It was only when that noise stopped that he decided to pay attention again.
Through the glass he saw Papa, flanked by Seth and Franklin, stand. It made Wyatt sick to look at them, especially Seth. He was still reeling after his brother’s betrayal and vowed that, if he ever saw him again, he'd punch him in the mouth.
But he doubted he’d get that chance. They had him locked in this room, far away from everyone else, for a reason and he suspected that reason was to kill him.
He remembered the day, months earlier, that he’d thought about taking Supper and leaving the casino. Why hadn’t he listened to his gut?
But playing the what if game would serve no good. He needed to focus on the now and try to figure a way out of this mess.
He’d already tried breaking the lock on the door. Tried smashing the glass. Neither worked. His only chance was waiting and hoping an opportunity arose.
Wyatt watched Papa’s new guards set two baskets by his feet. From the distance it looked like they were filled with cotton or fabric. Then he saw the fat man reach into each one.
After Papa removed his hands, Wyatt heard his voice over the speakers. He heard him ask Seth to pray for an answer and he heard Seth supply one.
Despite his pessimism, he was in no way ready for what came next.
Chapter 54
Seth thought he’d heard wrong. This wasn’t possible. This couldn’t be Yahweh’s plan. This was wrong.
Then he saw her moving toward the front of the crowd. He hadn’t heard wrong at all. But that realization only made things worse.
She smiled nervously as she stepped forward. Seth knew she didn’t like being the center of attention and that this must be awkward and overwhelming for her. But she pushed past it because she was strong, even if she didn’t believe she was.
This can’t be happening, Seth thought. It’s some horrible error.
Seth wheeled up to Papa and pulled at his shirt, not even considering how inappropriate it was.
“Please, Papa, no. You can’t do this.” Seth had the sense to keep his voice low so the microphone wouldn’t catch it.
Papa leaned down and Seth could smell the rot drifting from his face. His eyes were red and wild. “Son, I’m not doing anything. I made no choice. You did. Yahweh did. I just read what was on the paper.” Papa turned back to the crowd.
But Seth wasn’t done. He clawed at Papa’s meaty arm. “No, I made a mistake. I meant to say right hand. Right hand! You have to switch it!”
Papa turned to Seth, grinning in a way that bared his teeth. “I love you Seth, like my own son. But the announcement has been made. This is Yahweh’s will. And if you push this issue any further, this isn’t going to end well for you either. You understand?”
Seth opened his mouth but saw the look in Papa’s eyes. He slumped back into his chair and wheeled away. As he did the dropped paper got caught in his footrest, but he paid it no attention. If he could have fled, he would have, but Seth knew that would only exacerbate the situation. So, he stayed and watched as Franklin reached out and took her hand.
Franklin gave her a brief embrace, then turned her to face the madding crowd. As they roared, Seth began to cry silent tears.
“My children,” Papa said. “Give up your thanks to Allie Hagan!”
Chapter 55
Wyatt knew this was going to be terrible, but he forced himself to watch. He’d promised her he’d keep her safe and failed so this was his penance. He’d have to live the remainder of his days, no matter how few or plenty, with the guilt.
&nb
sp; He’d failed her.
Papa’s voice boomed through the speakers. “My dearest Allie, I cannot thank you enough for this. I know you are new to our ways so this must all be something of a shock to you.”
Wyatt could see her nervous smile. She still hadn’t realized what was coming. He didn’t know the specifics, but he was certain of the outcome and he was helpless to stop it.
As Franklin retrieved a large, metal basin and set in at Allie’s feet, Wyatt slammed his fists against the unbreakable windows. He screamed and shouted. He swore and cried. He knew it was pointless, that no one could hear him and, even if they could, they wouldn’t raise so much as a finger to help.
Her fate was sealed.
And it was his fault.
“My beautiful child, Yahweh Himself has chosen you. Do you realize how special you are?”
Allie gave a tense titter. “Not really.”
“Well, let me assure you, you are very, very special.” Papa patted her shoulder. “Now, please kneel.”
That’s when she caught on. Wyatt saw her eyes widen; nerves replaced with fear. Her body tensed and she went to move but Franklin grabbed her by the shoulders and held her in place.
His mouth moved and even at the distance Wyatt could read his lips. “Kneel, bitch.”
Allie refused, so Franklin pushed her to her knees. She hit the ground hard and Wyatt knew she was crying, maybe in pain but more likely in terror.
And it was his fault.
“My children, never forget this day, for on this day you are witnessing both the glory and the vengeance of Yahweh! Because though he is a kind and merciful presence in our lives, he also demands sacrifice!”
Wyatt could feel the room reverberating from the frenzy of the crowd. They were like wild animals, but worse because they should know better. They should have mercy. But they had none.
