by Ellie Aiden
I almost don’t hear what she says. It’s just a whisper, “We were selected.”
Oh shit, and here I thought this was going to be a relaxing day. Once a week a group along with at least one Elder, head to the nearest town to trade supplies among other things, or so I’m told, and sometimes they will select one or two girls who are getting close to their Placement to go with them. My Father says it has something to do with letting them see how bad life outside these walls really is. People do not go outside the compound. They just don’t. The only exceptions are Elders, Hunters, and Security, and they only patrol the area right outside the walls. And girls, well it’s even more rare for them to venture out.
The ones selected are usually the children of higher ups in the Church, not an orphan like Ash. As for me, well my parents aren’t really higher ups. Probably middle of the road. I mean, I guess my dad is one of only a few doctors, and he is well respected by the Council, but it’s no secret half the council thinks I’m a demon child, and yes they have called me that, more than once. To my face.
I’m not even sure what to say, but Ash beats me to it, “This could either be the best, or the worst day of our lives.”
I couldn’t have said it better myself.
***
I know I just wore my green dress a few days ago, but ask me if I care. Did I mention, green’s my color. Ash and I are totally gonna rock this day. It’s just one of those things where you’re terrified, but also have never been more excited. So much could happen out there, bad and good.
I have only been outside the compound walls twice since arriving here with my parents so many years ago. The last time had not gone well. It was the day after I had been branded. The day after my Pledging. The day had served as one of the most traumatic of my life so far, leaving the memory vivid as I look back.
The mirror in our bathroom reflects back a gruesome sight. I had removed the bandage from the burn on my left shoulder, but this wasn’t just any burn. They branded me. A crude star inside a triangle now scars my back. It’ll probably look better when it heals, but right now the symbol of the Church of The Way oozes a pink tinged liquid. The skin around the symbol looks pink and yellow, somewhat bruised.
Last night, I went before the Elders and confessed I was now a woman. I had gotten my period for the first time yesterday morning sitting at breakfast, surrounded by half the compound. There was no denying it, when I stood up to dump my tray everyone near me saw the bloody truth. I had rushed out of the Mess Hall with my mother close on my heels.
When we got back to our room, she had helped wash me up, showed me how to use the sanitary napkins the Seamstress Department makes, and held me while I cried. I wasn’t crying over getting my period for the first time, or even the horrible cramps that had been plaguing me for two days. Not even over the embarrassment of everyone seeing my bloody dress at breakfast. These tears were for what I knew was coming.
Ash had started her period two months ago. Only she didn’t have a mother to comfort her. The night she Pledged herself to bare the children of God, she lay in my room shaking, while I rubbed circles on her lower back. She had told me all about it, and my experience had been no different.
This isn’t okay. Branding children. Forcing them to pledge themselves to the service of repopulating the planet. I get they aren’t forcing me to birth babies right now, but what happens if I don’t want kids. It should be my choice.
I knew I couldn’t stay here another minute. I had to get out of this place.
Replacing the dirty bandage with a clean one, I pulled my dress on as carefully as I could, and quietly made my way through the compound to the main barn. I couldn’t take anything with me, it would be too obvious if I carried a bag as I snuck through the halls just after sunrise.
In the barn, I carefully climbed into the wagon nearest the front door, knowing it was brought up front because it would be headed to town in less than an hour. I had pulled the dirty brown tarp over every inch of me. I wouldn’t be in too much trouble if I was caught in the wagon, especially after last night. But this was my only way out, so I needed to remain unseen.
I had been lucky, no one had even bothered to look in the back before two men climbed in the front seat, and another two walked along side. We had made it to town in under an hour, and after I was sure the Elder and the other three men were well out of sight, I slipped out from under the tarp and climbed down the back steps of the wagon.
I hadn’t really given any thought to what I would do once I got this far. For all I cared a Gang Lord could kill me where I stand, and at least it meant I would never step foot back in that compound. Sure I would miss my parents, but honestly, I was kind of pissed at them. They brought me to the Church of The Way. They let them brand me. Aren’t they supposed to protect me?
I’m startled as I hear a noise over my right shoulder, and without another though I took off headed north, and away from town, toward a line of sixty-foot tall pine trees. No one would be in the woods. Everyone would be in town. That’s where they felt safe. Well, I felt save as far away from the Church as possible.
I broke the tree line and continued further in. The dense canopy made up of dozens of varieties of trees blocked out a good chunk of the sun, but I could still see well enough. I probably hadn’t been in the trees for more than thirty minutes when I heard a yell. Not just any yell, a woman. A scream followed it seconds later, and even though I dang well knew better, I took off in the direction it came from.
I came upon an outcropping of rocks and ducked down. Crab walking around the edge, that’s when I saw her. Blood trickled down her cheek from a cut above her eye, wavy brown hair was matted with mud and sticks and probably more blood. She was splayed out on her stomach, her face smashed into the ground by a large very meaty hand. The body attached to that hand was doing very horrible things to her, clearly against her will, as she screamed for him to stop. Another man stood to the right. His pants and underwear down around his ankles, as he laughed and stroked his…
I gasped. I knew it was too loud, that there was a good chance they had heard me. I didn’t think twice, I jumped to my feet, and sprinted back the way I had come. Back to town.
I had rushed through town until I found Elder Thompson, throwing my arms around his plump middle. Elder Thompson was actually a good and kind man and honestly, I felt sorry for him, having to be married to Dragon Breath for the rest of his life.
I had lied and said after my Pledging the night before, I had gone for a walk and ended up crying myself to sleep in the wagon. When I woke up, it was parked on the edge of town and I was alone. I think he’d felt sorry for me. He patted me on the back, and steered me back toward the wagon.
I didn’t tell Elder Thompson, or anyone else except Ash, about what I had seen in the woods. I couldn’t. I had left her there. I could have helped her, or gone and gotten help, but instead, I ran away and let them rape her, and God only knows what else.
Today was not going to be like that day.
***
Riding in a wagon is not all it’s cracked up to be. I can feel my butt bruising as we speak. Ash is sitting on my left, on a bare wood cross board in the back of the wagon, just behind where Elder Thompson sits holding the reigns to direct the horses. Talking would be heavily frowned upon, so the hour it takes to get to town really sucks. Occasionally, Ash and I glance at one another out of the corner of our eyes, both indicating our pure boredom, but other than that, the trip is pretty uneventful. It didn’t really live up to all the worst case scenarios that flew through my mind while we waited to leave this morning.
There was the one where halfway to town, a tornado came out of nowhere and swept us up into the air, just like Dorothy’s house. Or the one where the wagon wheel breaks, and we are forced to turn around, ending our possible adventure before it begins. Or my personal favorite, where handsome, buff, wild west outlaws attack our group, taking Ash and I and killing everyone else. Only in the end, that daydream did not turn out the
way I thought it would. These men were not bad guys. Oh, no. They were very, very good.
“Why are you blushing?” Ash whispers in my ear.
And now I am blushing even more, and I will not dignify that question with an answer. I bump her with my elbow, pushing my chin up ahead where town is just coming into view.
On the outskirts of town, a worn and weathered sign has been placed marking the town limits. It looks like someone took a six-foot by six-foot piece of rotting wood from the side of a house, and then crudely painted the town name in red paint. The paint is fading, but the words can just be made out, “Town of BONHAM”. Bon Ham?
Well that’s a weird town name. Who the hell came up with that? Ash and I turn looking at one another, eyebrows raised, clearly thinking the same thing.
Just a few additional bumpy minutes in the wagon, and we come to a slow stop near what looks like an old downtown. In the library back at the compound, there are tons of non-fiction books available to anyone who enjoys that sort of thing. The fiction, like the series I’m reading now, are in a private room off to the side under lock and key. We aren’t allowed to read those. The elders only keep them out of some sense of preservation, and I wouldn’t be allowed access either if my best friend in the whole world didn’t work in the Library on Monday’s, and if Mistress Baker didn’t absolutely adore her. So, even though I prefer books that give me the chance to escape reality if only for a short time, I’m not above a good non-fiction book every now and then. This grouping of buildings in Bon Ham reminds me of pictures I saw in a book about Rosenberg, Texas. I’m not sure how it’s possible they survived everything that’s happened in the last couple decades, and while I’m sure they’ve seen better days, they are definitely still standing and functional.
Elder Thompson directs Ash and I to come down from the wagon, and one of the other men gives each of us a hand. The ground beneath our feet is lacking grass, and is mostly sandy dirt littered with foot prints. Probably the reason there seems to be very little grass around here.
Elder Thompson walks away from the wagon and towards the first building in this downtown-like area. The building appears to be two stories tall, clearly used to be mostly white, but now the paint has chipped away, with the shutters and the window trims a very faint shade of blue. As we round the corner, we find ourselves at the end of a row of similar buildings, six or seven on each side of a wide loose dirt road. People of all shapes and sizes, covered in dirt and grime, are milling about in the road, on the wooden walk-ways, and to our left, two old men who must be nearly a hundred years old, sit on either side of a barrel. On top, looks like some sort of game. I don’t recognize it, but they each take turns moving red or black pieces on a checkered board. I’d say it might be chess, except those pieces aren’t right.
I’m so enthralled with this odd game, I don’t even notice what’s going on around us, until Ash elbows me in the gut. Looking up, I see every single person with the exception of the two old men have stopped what they are doing and turned to stare at our group. Ok sure, we do stick out. I mean, we clearly don’t belong just on the basis we have all had showers today, but dang. Didn’t your Momma teach you not to stare?
Elder Thompson and the other men seem to be oblivious to the stares, and take off once again down the main street. Nearly to the opposite end, we come to a stop with one of the buildings on our left, and a canopied tent on our right. Under the tent a woman stands in the middle of a square of tables, pushed together just right to box her in. The tables are covered in everything imaginable. Food, drinks, books, toys, housewares, and then hanging down one side of the tent are clothes and scarves. Clearly this is our first stop for the day, but as old and dirty as everything looks on her tables, I can’t imagine what Elder Thompson could possibly want from her. He casually peruses her wares, while the other men serve as sentry’s, and Ash and I take the time to study our whereabouts.
Something catches my eye from across the street, a wavy mop of platinum hair, a color I’m not sure I’ve seen before. Before I can get a better look, the wearer ducks into a side door of the only three story building on the strip.
I crane my neck and try to sneak a little further away, when Elder Thompson speaks. “Girls, I have some business to attend to. Things that will only bore you. How about you go across the street and have a lemonade on me?”
Okay, couple things. A. You’re just gonna leave us? What if we get kidnapped? And, B. They have lemonade? I have only ever had lemonade one time, several years ago, and as excited as I am about the prospect of a glass, looking at Ash, she seems to feel the opposite.
Elder Thompson clears his throat before speaking again, “Nothing to worry about Ash, dear. I’ll send Jayson to keep an eye out.” He nods to my left at the brute who must be Jayson, and I’m sold. No way anything is getting past that mountain of a man. His left bicep is bigger than my whole torso.
Elder Thompson reaches into his pocket, pulling out a few coins I have never seen before. Silver, round, and mostly smooth on both sides, with the exception of a bump on one that looks slightly like a man’s head. That’s strange, I thought people stopped using money in the early 30’s.
My confusion must be written on my face, because Elder Thompson pats my hand and explains, “Emily owns Hotel Bonham.” He points to the three story building across the street once again, and I feel stupid for pronouncing it Bon Ham. “The top two floors are rooms for rent. And the bottom, think of it like a bar and restaurant.” He rubs the back of his neck, and I get the impression he knows Emily very well. “Emily still likes to be paid in coins for little things, like food, and drink. She collects the metals and melts them down for various things.”
I glance to Ash to see if she’s thinking the same things I am, but she doesn’t even seem to be listening, instead staring off somewhere down the road. I clear my throat to bring her back to reality, and I am one hundred percent positive that is a blush filling her cheeks. Whipping my head in the direction she was staring, all I see is a bunch of dirty old men.
We make our way across the street, after being told by Elder Thompson he would be back for us soon. Our sentry Jayson, doesn’t really seem to be concerned about staying too close. As we step on the wooden walk-way in front of Hotel Bonham, the red door swings open on its hinges, and out steps a scraggly middle aged man. I’m totally lying. He is definitely kind of hot in that middle aged man sort of way, with deep brown eyes, tan skin, and a salt and pepper beard that stops just an inch below his chin. Yeah he’s nice to look at, except that clearly I have made it awkward, because when I catch his eyes they are filled with mirth, and a devilish smirk is plastered on his lips.
He steps aside holding the door fully ajar, and with a quick bow and hand flourish, he says, “Ladies.”
Well that was oddly polite. With a quick smile, I drag Ash in through the doors as she continues to gape like a fish. We’ve gotta work on our shocked faces, but we should have done it before now, because as the scene inside the first floor comes into focus, Ash and I both wear matching expressions of shock. What is happening right now?
Tugging Ash toward a gorgeous petite woman behind a perfectly polished wooden counter, I try to whisper my feelings, “Um. I have some thoughts.”
In a not nice move, she pinches me in the side boob and motions forward where the woman behind the counter is staring directly at us, and has clearly been speaking.
Going for polite ignorance, I say, “I’m sorry Madame. This is our first time in Bonham in many years. Just taking in the sights. Were you talking to us?”
A warm grin takes over her face, and she lets out a bellow of a laugh. That noise most certainly should not come out of such a petite woman. Slamming her hand down on the counter in a jovial way, she nods her head at the two red topped metal bar stools just this side of the counter. I nudge Ash to take the one on the left, so I can have the one on the right, because yes, I do have a slight case of OCD. I prefer the right; the left is weird.
These barsto
ols might be the most comfortable chairs I have ever sat in. The legs are made of a shiny chrome like metal, with the tops cushioned and then covered with a cherry red vinyl. I squish my booty around until it feels just right, before pulling out the coins Elder Thompson gave us, laying two on the counter, but keeping the third hidden away, just in case of emergency.
I’m pretty sure this is Emily the owner, but I don’t want to make an even bigger fool of myself, so I just wait to see what she will say. I’m not really sure what the protocol is here, and Ash, poor Ash, she’s absolutely no help right now.
The woman across the bar gives us one more kind smile, seeming amused with us before speaking, “I’m a guessin’ you two gals is with Thompson, huh?”
Well that certainly is an accent. Of course I would never make fun of anyone, ever, plus this woman is way too cute. So she has a little bit of an accent, big deal.
I smile because she smiled, and nod my head in confirmation. Ash does nothing. Geez, this girl has got to work on her people skills.
“Alrighty then sweets, what’ll it be? Jack, Jim, or Jose?”
Shit, shit, shit. I look to Ash for help, but once again it’s like the lights are on, but no one’s home. I read about places like this; it’s a brothel. A place where people pay to have sex with other people. Why in the actual hell would Elder Thompson send us into a brothel? I whip around and ohhh, these stools swivel. Fun. Okay seriously, where the fuck is Jayson?
Looking back to the counter, I try to stammer out a response that isn’t completely insulting, “Madame, I mean no disrespect. It’s just, we’re only seventeen. We were hoping for some lemonade, not sex.”
Roaring laughter assaults my ears. Not just from the tiny lady across the counter, but from no less than three men within earshot. Emily, that’s what I’m calling her until someone corrects me, spins around to a line of shelves behind her, grabbing three bottles off the middle shelf, and turning back around to place them in front of us.
