Body of Ash

by Bonnie Wheeler

  So this is what it feels like when your heart breaks?

  Burying her face into Jason’s chest, she breathed in his familiar scent. She tried clearing her mind to make a plan. She was seventeen, almost old enough to leave home. Could she somehow escape them? An idea began to take hold. It wriggled in her mind, unfolding possibilities.

  “Maybe we can change this,” she stepped back just enough to meet his eyes. “You don’t want me to have to leave, right?” Her tone grew higher, along with her confidence.

  Jason smiled, encouraging her to continue.

  “You’re parents have a big place. I can work for them after school and on weekends to cover room and board. I’ll get a lawyer and file for emancipation or something like that.” Her words came out in a rush, sounding desperate, but it was all she had.

  “I don’t know,” he offered, surprised with her suggestion. “I can ask them.”

  “Don’t ask,” she said, shaking her head, “insist. Tell them that I’m being sent away and it’s unfair.” Rachel stared at her boyfriend. He was nodding, but there was something beneath the surface of his expression.

  Doubt? He doesn’t think it will work?

  “What is it?”

  Jason’s arms dropped to his side. He dragged his hand through his dark hair. “I want to help you, but I don’t want my parents to get in trouble, either.”

  “How would they get into trouble?” She was confused. His parents were wonderful; she knew they would help her.

  All he has to do is ask.

  “I don’t know, harboring a runaway or something,” he said looking down at his feet. His body had grown stiff and for the first time, there was a hint of worry in his eyes.

  Rachel grew colder. As she studied the one person she felt closest to, she realized the boarding school wasn’t the only thing about to put distance between them.

  “I’ll come visit you,” he stated, before kissing the top of her head. “We’ll Skype before bed and, who knows, maybe you’ll get a dirty little school girl’s uniform you can wear for me.” Offering her the same crooked grin she once found so endearing, he traced his fingertips across her cheek. “It won’t be so bad and it’s only until the end of the school year and we go away to college. Maybe we can even look into off campus housing so you don’t have to come back here at all.”

  Rachel stepped into his arms, her tears wetting the front of his coat. “I don’t want to go.”

  “I don’t want you to either,” he whispered. “We’ll find a way to make them change their minds.”

  “I know them. They won’t.”

  “Keep wearing your ring. Never take it off. When you’re scared, look at it and know that I’m thinking of you.” Pulling her tight to him, he kissed her forehead, then her lips.

  “I will,” she said, gripping her first tightly. “I promise.”

  “Good. In the meanwhile, I’ll think of something. We’ll change their minds.”

  After one last caress, Jason turned his back and jogged down the sidewalk to where his bike was parked beneath the street light.

  As she watched the Yamaha’s engine roar to life, the sting of her paper cut was all she could feel.

  7

  ANGELA

  Thursday 8:30 PM

  Peering through the matchstick blinds, Angela stood just inside the foyer. The street lamp allowed her to observe her daughter, sitting alone on the steps. The sky was clear, but it was cold out. Still her daughter made no attempt to come in. With her chin tucked to her knees, Rachel’s shoulders quaked. Through the lightweight aluminum door, the low pitch of her weeping filtered in.

  The news came as a blow.

  Her daughter’s grief was painful to witness. As a parent, she wanted to comfort her child, but Angela couldn’t allow a crack in her resolve. She had to believe this was for her daughter’s own good, but the pain in her stomach revealed otherwise.

  Turning slightly, she watched as Brian poured another glass of pinot noir. Dressed in outdated corduroy, his bloated body disgusted her. Greedily, his thick tongue licked the side of the glass. One of his favorite sermons was the importance of abstaining from alcohol. What he didn’t share was that he seldom resisted any temptation.

  The man was no Apostle Paul.

  For years she stood by him. With a stoic presence, Angela turned her head at his transgressions. His gossip, although amusing at first, led to lying. His fibbing was followed by stealing from the church’s collection plate. While she was willing to look past his little white lies, his lust gave way to fornication. After eighteen years of marriage, she could no longer meet the eyes of other women. She knew their smiles were either based on pity or guilt.

  When Brian mentioned sending Rachel to Miss Hall’s, Angela was confused. She questioned why he would consider enrolling their only child in a finishing school.

  It isn’t even a Baptist school for God’s sake.

  He had always loved showing off his family in the front pew with their hair done and dresses pristine. Having Rachel attend services showed his place as head of the household and he loved appearances. When she questioned him, he claimed his decision was because their daughter was losing her faith in God, giving her attention to Jason instead of her studies, but Angela didn’t buy his quick explanation.

  With a sneak peak at his weekly schedule, she began to look closer at his intentions. Marge Finch had begun attending services. Decked out in waxy pink lipstick and polyester skirts, her friendliness was as false as her breasts. Angela knew the peroxide blonde wasn’t interested in salvation, at least not the type found on a cross. The woman’s eyes were locked on Brian in a way only another could recognize.

  When Brian claimed he missed dinner in order to give Marge an at home Bible study, Angela knew the whore was his latest conquest. But when he suddenly insisted on sending their daughter away, Angela realized the relationship may be much more dangerous than she first realized. Brian’s thinking of leaving me.

  Angela ran her fingers through her hair, pulling free the French twist she was sick of wearing. She recalled how it was to be Brian’s trophy. She had several interested suitors and forced the young preacher to work for her attention. He did everything in his power to seduce her and make her believe that next to God, she would be the most important person in his life. Even after Rachel’s birth, Angela insisted Brian always put their family first. He failed to keep his promises and she resented him for it.

  Angela watched as Rachel rocked back and forth, clearly defeated. Maybe she was failing the girl by agreeing to Brian’s plan. After all, it wasn’t the teen’s fault her father had become a fool.

  She didn’t want Rachel to leave and knew she would let her come back in time. First, she would write her daughter, insisting it was all Brian’s idea. Angela would explain to Rachel that the town would crucify them all for his actions, especially an affair. Maybe even write that her daughter would be safer where she was, at least for the time being. Through her words, Angela would instill so much hate in Rachel’s heart for her father that the girl would never speak to him again.

  That was only one part of her plan.

  Did Brian really think he was the only one aware of his little deeds? Did he believe his thinning hair and flabby stomach were enough to keep the women he messed with quiet after he moved on to the next piece of trash? And what about all of his trips to the shore – charged on the church’s credit cards. Angela kept the bank statements; she knew exactly where he had been. She doubted his trips to Foxwoods were to spread the “good news.” Lots of people would come forward and share their tales of the pastor’s exploits once given the invitation.

  While he was busy chasing skirts, Angela did her own preparing. She had put aside a sizable amount of cash in a safety deposit box – what was left of her father’s inheritance. After years of being a house wife and donating her time to the church, she didn’t have a great deal of marketable skills, but she had earned transferable college credits. From what she had estimated
, a semester or two of fulltime study at the community college could earn her an Associate in Business. With her savings, she could buy a two bedroom condo while procuring a job in sales.

  I’ve been selling the image of our perfect family for years. How hard can it be?

  Before any of that could happen, Angela had to deal with her husband. If he was hell bent on burning to ash any remaining image of propriety their family worked so hard to achieve, she would do her best to help him along.

  She would confess everything to the elders – his affairs, his theft, his greed. Brian’s actions would destroy his career, but he would fail to take her down with him. With Rachel tucked away in Massachusetts, Angela would ensure everyone knew that she was an innocent bystander to her husband’s greed. Once Brian was driven out of Canaan and the fallout from the scandal had cleared, she would bring Rachel home.

  I’ll look like the perfect mother by doing so.

  Glancing at the table, the dishes from dinner were still sitting there. The cheap lasagna would be a bitch to wash off the plates. For once, she would let them sit all night. Licking her lips, she was surprised at just how much she liked a good red wine.

  8

  BRIAN

  Thursday 8:50 PM

  Brian loved wine. For years he resisted indulging in its bountiful bouquet, but when home, drank without reserve. As he swished the pinot noir around his mouth, the liquid had a pleasurable body. Yesterday he drank white, the evening before – he enjoyed a single malt scotch. After a long day of work, he wanted to savor every mouthful.

  Angela stood near the front door. Her thin neck craned to see their daughter. It was impossible for his wife to grant anyone privacy. She was always intruding into rooms and thoughts, her fingers and eyes ready to accuse. Rachel needed space, but explaining that would be pointless.

  The woman didn’t know the meaning of the word.

  He wanted to put his feet up, flick through the TV stations and wait for her to fall asleep. The good shows were on late. He enjoyed stripping down to nothing while he watched them. Free of an audience, free of her disapproval – he enjoyed stretching out in the recliner and escaping into late night porn.

  From the bend in Angela’s neck and the straightness of her spine, he knew she would stalk around the house a while longer. Without words she could slam the cupboards and straighten the throw pillows and still say plenty.

  When they met, he knew his wife would be the perfect woman to help him acquire a cozy flock to shepherd. An attractive woman, she was well spoken and came from a good family. He wanted a church in a town that was large enough to pay him a comfortable salary, but not so big he would have to compete for attendees. The wife was judged as much as the applicant.

  It was a well-known secret that the women behind the elders made the decisions in a congregation. Angela was gifted at transfixing a room full of nosy church wives. He would need her steadfast presence if his evening exploits were revealed.

  Brian was thrilled she didn’t insist on keeping Rachel home. It came as a surprise really. When Rachel turned to her mother for support, he was ready for his wife to coddle her. He expected her to raise hell, or worse, cry.

  He’d seen everything as a pastor. Death, humiliation, misery, he counseled it all. But, Angela was better kept at a distance. It was easy betraying her when she remained aloof.

  Rachel was a good girl. His daughter wasn’t demanding and didn’t require a great deal of his attention. She went from a toddler with a thick little body to an attractive young woman. It was no wonder her boyfriend was smitten. It was a shame he had to send her away.

  Sinking into his chair, he recalled the feel of Marge Finch’s body under his. She was glorious and he wanted to thank God for creating her. She wasn’t as beautiful as Angela, but she had a sexual appetite that matched his and her lack of inhibitions made things interesting. Katie’s look of disgust earlier wasn’t a surprise. Neither of them had expected her to open the bedroom door while they were going at it. His pants were down and her legs were in the air. It didn’t make sense to try and deny it.

  Katie was the same age as Rachel. He remembered her from when the two were in Brownies, back when Marge was still married to Williston. Even then he wanted to bed Marge. With her small waist and long legs, he knew she would be a firecracker in the sac. She didn’t disappoint. If Marge had been home earlier, he would have left her spent and wet as a rag by the time he had finished with her. Instead, he got a cold reception from Katie.

  The little bitch shut the door in my face.

  Marge promised to talk to the teen. She said her daughter had been going through a hard time since the divorce. Brian worried Katie might tell Marge’s ex about him. Williston Finch wasn’t a prude, but he had a lot of friends in town that were. Brian didn’t need Katie running her mouth, especially to Rachel. No, having his daughter settled in a boarding school away from the house would be a good thing.

  Brian liked his profession. He was easy going and made a perfect salvation sales man. Although not overly religious, he was willing to act the part on Sundays and head a few committees. Even disbelievers called him Reverend and insisted he cut them in line.

  The title gave him status and he loved it.

  The best perk about the job was having members of his congregation come to him with their worries and pleas for forgiveness. It filled him with a rush, especially when they asked him to accept a “donation for the church” if he could keep silent about one thing or another. As men stuffed his ears with their detailed sins, he began to wonder what he was missing. He had only been preaching a few years when he tasted his first affair. If others could lie, cheat, and steal without being caught, surely he could, too.

  Bringing the crystal to his lips, he applauded the fact that he was so clever. He knew how to keep his indiscretions secret, even from his prying wife. Sending Rachel away was tough, but he could live with it. If there was a judgment day, he would be called out, but Brian wasn’t concerned.

  If God’s out there, He doesn’t get worked up over the sins of man.

  9

  MARGE

  Thursday 8:55 PM

  Marge wasn’t an unreasonable woman, but she wasn’t one for waiting either. If so, she would still be drowning in copier toner at the office supply store in Winsted. Sitting outside of Brian Jones’s home, she fixed her eyes on the one thing she truly desired.

  His house was on the corner of Maple and Oak. She always dreamed of getting a place in the affluent neighborhood and nagged Williston about moving there for years. Unwilling to even consider it, her ex was attached to the drafty old colonial he grew up in. When she heard the judge made him sell it as a part of the divorce settlement, she laughed in his face. If she had to move, he should to. Smiling, Marge anticipated the triumph she will have when Williston learns she landed a new husband and a new house.

  Marge loved Brian’s Victorian. It was a stately home. With the turret and second story bay windows, the Queen Ann styled structure looked like it should be on the cover of Better Homes and Gardens. With her eye for detail – she would find the perfect perennials to plant in the window boxes. Angela planted pansies, but Marge knew daffodils and tulips would really stand out. She would have Brian buy the high-end line of Martha Stewart outdoor furniture for the wrap around porch.

  Maybe the little craft store in Canton will have Halloween themed wreaths for fall?

  She liked the miniature jack-o-lanterns and little black cats, Frankenstein cutouts and Styrofoam pumpkins. She couldn’t believe Angela hadn’t put up any orange lights of fake spider webs. Marge couldn’t wait to have a hand at jazzing the place up.

  Christmas will be even better.

  His wife didn’t have any imagination. Marge would show Brian how adventuresome life would be with her by his side.

  While parked on the opposite side of the street, her Honda’s engine rattled. The car was eight years old and was long past warranty. Other than keeping the gas tank full, she didn’t know
how to take care of it. Although her father had worked with cars his whole life, Marge had no interest in learning how to care for them. Her mother had taught her early on that vehicle maintenance was a man’s job. Women had no place under the hood of a car.

  Brian drove a Cadillac Escalade. She loved the plush leather seats and the built in DVD. The second time they made love – she begged him for a ride in it and teasingly pulled him in the back seat, knowing he would not be able to resist her. As he moaned her name, she breathed in the delicious scent of a new car. She would have him buy her one just like it, but in red.

  From where she sat, she could see Brian’s daughter sitting alone on the steps. A single bulb outlined the teens form. She was attractive in a wholesome kind of way, not like Katie who was blessed with curves, but with a natural beauty. Whenever Marge spotted her around town, Rachel was dressed in shapeless sweaters and jeans, her hair pulled back from her face. Although the teen had flawless skin and big hazel eyes, she didn’t play up her assets.