Deliverance from Evil

by Michael Cross

  Just as Bethany had finished setting out the food Vincent came in. He approached me and smelled around my shoulders. He looked at Bethany, and she at him, as she picked up a knife and began to cut into the pie. He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath. He turned to me, “You want to come out and look at the pig pen? You’ll be amazed that their meal is completely consumed.” As I began to follow him Bethany called out to Vincent, “Let’s not fight over this. You know how I feel.” He turned and looked at her before smiling, “Don’t worry Bethany. You can do with our little girl as you please for now, but that cannot be permanent and you know it.” She sighed, “Maybe not, but there is no rush Vincent.” As we went outside he replied, “You don’t know that Beth.”

  When we reached the pen Vincent pointed and said, “It’s by far the most effective, and ecological, method of body disposal.” He leaned against the fence, “Please forgive me for what I said earlier. Maybe Bethany needs some time to pamper you like a child but by next summer I expect you to have transformed into a true survivor. Look I drove all night with the pig food and I know Bethany wants to take you on a hike after dinner. Can you two go alone? I need rest.” I smiled and he patted me on the shoulder, “Remember, I will help you discover your higher potential. Now let’s go eat!” It was strange but as we walked back into the house I was a little less angry. And dinner was actually quite pleasant as we all indulged in Bethany’s fantastic treats.

  It was kind of odd, it was a hot day but there was something in the air that was saying summer was coming to a close. As we got up from dinner Vincent asked, “I have new energy now. Can I go with you two?” Bethany put her hand on his back, “Of course dear.” Soon we were out the door. As we walked along the trail we came to an area with a long stretch. Vincent asked me to try running to a tree about 50 yards away and back. I told him I would try and darted off. My legs were nothing like they had been, and my new three to four pack per day smoking habit certainly was no help either. I managed to get to the tree, circle it, and return back to Bethany and Vincent though. They both congratulated me but I was forced to slouch over, gasping for breath, and felt like I was going to cough up my lungs. I could even taste blood in my mouth. Vincent commented, “You need to do some serious exercises before winter. I’ll explain later.” As we all began to walk again he also suggested, “Maybe you should cut back to two packs per day.” Again I felt anger and resentment for his giving me advice! I knew he was right but it was his fault I had picked up the habit! He had no right telling me what I should do from then on.

  When we got home Bethany asked to look at my ankle. I had not really noticed anything but apparently I had cut it on a rock when running. Bethany took me into the bathroom and washed my feet and put some sort of gel on the wound. It was during this time I noticed how sore my muscles were – and I had only run 100 yards. Bethany asked if I would take a nap with her while Vincent took a short nap. I appreciated the opportunity even though it was only early in the afternoon. As Bethany held me I fell asleep within seconds.

  When I woke up in early evening I could smell the aroma of meat cooking again. When I walked into the kitchen I saw Bethany rolling out dough for another pie!” She smiled, “You two liked lunch so much I thought why not the same for dinner?” I asked to help but she pointed outside, “Vincent is on the porch. You should be with him now.”

  As I went out I wondered what was up. He was in his chair smiling. He handed me a glass and asked me to sit down. He poured me a glass of whiskey and proposed a toast to a wonderful day. He said, “You did great today! And I know I can count on you!” I smiled as he took my hand and squeezed it gently, “As for that other thing, you have to erase any instincts that might confuse you as well as complicate our mission. Is that what you have determined as well?” I merely replied, “I understand.” He leaned back in his chair and said, “Good, I am glad you are seeing the big picture – maybe some of the books I left you have opened your eyes to where things really are. Besides, look at it this way, what if we had done something today, and you wound up pregnant? I have been through enough pain with raising a child and I don’t intend on starting that all over.”

  For the next hour or so we talked about some of what was in his books. I said I found them intriguing, and he went into his apocalyptic views of the future as he had many times before. Yet this time he told me that being strong meant more than mentally strong. He said, “You are much tougher than when you arrived here. Now it is time to learn how to survive even the harshest of conditions. We are going camping in the Wallawa Mountains! It’s beautiful up there but most importantly you will learn how conquer even yourself.” I wondered if the mountain trip was Bethany’s idea or his but it did not matter. I wanted to experience the adventure!

  He went on about finishing the wind mill and putting me on a strict exercise program – as well as endurance training. He said he patterned his plans on the Spartan ways of training young men for heartiness and part of the camping trip would involve the training. I said I would be okay with it – I bragged that I could survive anything.

  I asked about Murdock but he said that he and Bethany had long ago decided not to discuss any “hunting trips” and that he would not discuss anything he did while away. He just said that the big mistake Murdock made was going fishing alone. He then sat up and looked at me and asked, “So, you know some girl with long dark hair about your age?” What was he saying? I asked, “Why?” Vincent, looked off in the distance and said, “Don’t know how to tell you this but I went into Portland before going to California. I decided to stake your old house out to see, well, I don’t know – just see what was going on. Early that morning I saw your ex and this dark haired gal leave the house together. I was curious so I followed them to the Portland airport. I guess he was going off without the girl but based on the farewell kiss they enjoyed I figured they must be pretty close!”

  I was more than just a little surprised. I was also extremely curious – what had evolved in my absence? I sat up, “Are you serious? Look, the girl I wrote to named Nicole has dark hair but she would never…I mean…”Vincent interrupted, “Take your place?” I shot back, “Maybe they went together to the airport, and maybe they hugged as friends might, but…”Vincent sighed, “Jennifer, it was no hug, and no peck on the cheek – it was practically foreplay. I guess your husband has gotten on with his life.” Little did Vincent know but apparently so had my wife. I mean, this had to be Nicole…but what had happened to her steadfast desire to never be with a man again? I realize that the letters I had sent prior to the one Vincent mailed seemed to indicate I was no longer interested in Matt, but I had intentionally never mentioned Nicole, until last week, hoping this would give them the message that my leaving was not my idea but rather a kidnapping. Did they not catch my clue with the rings either? Oh well, I guess this was for the best – her kids and mine were actually all Matt’s anyway. Now they could all be one big happy family.

  Still, that evening at dinner, after dinner, and in bed trying to sleep, I tried to make sense of my mixed emotions. Part of me felt resentment towards the ones I loved, or once loved, I should say, or…?. Was that resentment based on lingering emotional attachments? I wondered what would happen if I were to suddenly walk in the door of the house in Portland. How would they react? Would they welcome me or tell me to get lost? If that was not enough, I was still trying to make sense Vincent’s reaction to my attempt to reach out to him. Did he reject me out of some principle he adopted years ago or did he find me repulsive – in looks or in my pathetic attempts at seduction? Had I totally made a fool of myself or was Vincent the fool? No, I was not the fool. He was the one who was afraid of intimacy – perhaps he was not so much in control as he thought he was…maybe instead he was weak, weaker than me. However, maybe I had made the mistake – maybe Vincent was right after all…that love itself was a weakness and maybe only nature’s trick to insure reproduction. It was so ironic that it had been my wish that Matt and Nicole become
more than friends, but as I suspected my wish had come true I realized I wanted any relationship between them to be on my terms, with my expectations central to everything. With me out of the picture it seemed somewhat a betrayal towards me by both people I once desired to share my life with.

  And I could not get the thought of Sheriff Murdock out of my mind either. I had held a feeling of resentment towards him but in a way I felt a certain remorse for him that evening. As much as I hated to admit it, seeing his body ripped apart by the pigs seemed nothing more than savage. I would not want anyone to get the wrong impression; I felt no guilt for what had happened that day. I just seemed so very unnecessary.

  I also wondered why Vincent had asked Murdock to renounce God – so much so that the next day after breakfast I followed him to the porch. We sat together, silently looking at the mountains far in the horizon. He seemed lost in thought but I managed to make the inquiry. He looked at me and laughed, “Come here to me.” He reached over, took my shoulders and thrust me up and onto his lap! I was totally surprised as he held me like a child while I nestled my head against his chest. He loosened the embrace and explained, “As I have said most people are pathetic and weak, and if push comes to shove they will betray their family, their country and even God. Murdock was more weak minded than most. It takes some form of abstract thinking to believe in God. I could tell Murdock was incapable of such higher order brain tools. His weight testified of his inability to control his appetites and his choice of professions probably indicated that he was incapable of anything else but bullying other people with his badge and gun.” Vincent explained that his ease in his quick renunciation of any higher power proved Murdock was one of the weakest people he had ever dealt with.

  He asked if I understood what he was talking about and I said I did – and in truth I really did understand him…maybe to a degree he could never imagine. I thanked him for his explanation and he gave me a tight squeeze and asked, “So are you up to finishing the windmill? If we can get done early I can install the generator itself!” I sat up and said we should get on it right away. Vincent gave me the added incentive, “Once we finish we can to the mountains for a few days.” I enthusiastically said it was a deal and we both rushed to gather the tools and complete our project. At that moment I had re-connected to Vincent and was looking forward to my future with him and Bethany again. After all, apparently they were all I had left in my life.

  After a few days of work we finally had the windmill finished. I had to admit that it gave me a great sense of accomplishment as I had never really seen myself as having any carpentry skills. In fact, Vincent had shown me how the electrical generator would operate and provide energy. What surprised me was that I actually began to understand the technical aspects he was imparting to me. In those several days he seemed less critical than usual…in fact, he complimented me throughout the process. And on that late August afternoon that he connected the last electrical wires to the main battery he put his arm around me and said, “We make a great team, don’t we?” I really appreciated this fatherly gesture as we gazed upon the fully erected and functional tower. Vincent stated, “Jennifer, this is the first of many projects we will accomplish. My eventual goal is to be totally off the grid if you know what I mean. Our next project can be to install solar panels and then who knows, a huge greenhouse perhaps.” I really liked his ideas. I have to admit that while I was sceptical of some of the readings he had given me over the summer dealing with the coming downfall of western civilization, I felt maybe he had the right idea towards self-sufficiency…just in case he was right after all. Vincent had an ability to articulate a political philosophy of what could be a synthesis of anarchism and nihilism with elements of both right and left wing political thought. He could easily fuse the ideas of Marx, Nietzsche, and Ronald Reagan together into a coherent philosophy that seemed like it could work in the real world. Yet he wanted nothing to do with the idea of proselytizing to humanity. He just wanted be left alone to await the time when it all fell apart, and the people that were left would come to him to seek guidance in the ensuing chaos.

  Vincent then said something really odd to me, “Jennifer, someday you will be my second in command when the apocalypse comes.” I wondered where that left Bethany in his vision. Well, I just assumed her role would be that of his loyal wife.

  At that moment Bethany came out and asked, “How are things going with you two?” Vincent replied, “We are done! We just have to hook up the battery to the main system of the house and we’ll be getting electricity free from Mother Nature.” She smiled, “That’s really nice.” Then she changed the subject to dinner being ready in an hour. She took my hand and asked, “Why don’t you rest my dear while I cook dinner? And later maybe we can perform our ritual!” I looked at my arm and smiled and said I would love to but then Vincent interrupted, “No, no, no Bethany…she needs all her strength for the trip to the mountains tomorrow.” Bethany shot in, “Oh come on Vincent, it’s not like I am going to take all that much, I am sure she will be fine for our vacation.” He seemed really irritated at this point and stated quite firmly, “This is not a vacation! This is part of making sure Mela…Jennifer starts her training in skills that she will need for the future. You are not going to take steal any of her energy until we get back, do I make myself clear?” She quietly replied, with a tone of resentment, “Perfectly.”

  Bethany seemed really disappointed. I felt sorry for her as she, without a word, walked back to the house, turned around and looked as if she were going to cry. Vincent shook his head and muttered to me, “Don’t you get a little tired of her making you her personal pin cushion? I would if I were you.” I was not sure what to say at that point. What had once been something that would have horrified me, what still, I had to admit, was quite painful, especially when she had to tap into veins that were in sensitive regions, now brought me a sort of high, probably from the adrenaline rush, as well as a feeling of closeness, maybe even a type of empathy, with Bethany. Yet how could I say that to Vincent without sounding a bit deranged? Instead I merely replied, “It doesn’t bother me if it makes her happy.”

  Vincent then asked, “Are you falling in love with my wife?” I shook my head no but he looked at me with total inquisition in his eyes and said, “Careful of what you allow yourself to develop feelings for. Friends, family, even God will leave you at some point. Sentimentality is a weakness you can ill afford to allow yourself to develop. I would have thought you would have known that the day we first met.” I said I had not thought about it too much. Vincent laughed and said, “You know you are a liar.” He sighed, “Go ahead and go to Bethany. It’s your choice to wind up unable to meet the demands of the trip tomorrow.” I cautiously asked, “Are you sure?” He shook his head and with introspection in his voice he warned, “You will soon discover that with love comes pain…pain that is far more intense than any sharp instrument can cause.” As I turned to go into the house Vincent continued, “My dear you will learn the truth of this lesson. Now go…go to your Bethany.” I reached for the door and he called out, “Remember the words of Nietzsche, ‘That which does not kill us makes us stronger.’ You will become strong!” I was sort of confused by what he was getting at but figured I would find out eventually.

  When I sat down Bethany asked if after the trip I might like another “spa treatment.” I said that would be nice just as she pierced my arm with the needle. She commented, I’ll only take a little blood since Vincent was so nasty. And don’t you worry; once we are back from the mountains, I am going to steal you away for gaining skills in canning fruit, work on my sewing and shopping for you some new clothes.” I liked that idea. Yet while she was talking about her favorite subjects I kept trying to analyse what Vincent had said to me. Was he warning against sentimentality towards my past life or for the future? Was he trying to prepare me for his eventual death or something else?

  During dinner I noticed a tension in the air between Bethany and Vincent. Was I causing a rift in thei
r relationship? It seemed that both were competing for my time and each had very different expectations of me. When we finished Bethany announced, “We’ll clean up the kitchen after I give our darling girl a total spa treatment from head to toe. Is that okay with you Vincent?” He was clenching his fist around his fork as he stabbed the piece of meat on his plate and replied, “Do whatever you like. Just make sure you two are up early and have everything packed in the truck.” I said nothing. I followed Bethany and was treated to several hours of pure pampering. However the events that were to follow in the mountains would only serve to intensify any rivalry that was going to grow with each passing day.

  Chapter 10

  After Bethany was done I reached for my clothes. She grabbed my hand and in a somewhat evil sort of manner she said, “Leave them here. Go ahead and enjoy the breeze on your skin. Vincent is on the front porch; let’s join him.” I was unsure what Bethany’s intentions were but it seemed like she wanted to demonstrate she was in charge of me. Yet when we went out and sat down Vincent showed no irritation at all, in fact he smiled at me and said, “Bethany you did an excellent job! I congratulate you in your beautician skills!” He held out his hand and she took it. It was odd but it seemed everything was back to its normal harmony.

  That evening we all sat on the porch and enjoyed the late summer atmosphere. I felt content as I glanced over and saw Bethany and Vincent holding hands and looking to the horizon. Perhaps it was more than just contentment; maybe it was true happiness. The memories of what I had envisioned for this summer certainly were radically different than what actually developed. Never in my wildest dreams, would I have imagined myself leaving my family behind, living with a serial killing survivalist and sitting naked on a porch in eastern Oregon with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. Strangely enough, what really struck me was how redneck I was at that point. I had not even worn shoes for almost four months, I had been working with my hands, and I suppose all I needed now to fit the stereotype completely was to be pregnant. Maybe Vincent would someday let me complete the perfect caricature; at that moment I would not have minded, yet both he and my physiology seemed unwilling to be open to that possibility.