by Jessica Loft
From above, she heard the basement door open, and Maryann’s mind quickly snapped back to the present. Husband came walking down the stairs, not looking much happier than he did at the dinner table. He came over to her and sat down on the bench beside her, resting his hand on her knee as she continued to work the churn.
“I’ll do this for you awhile, dearest. Would you go the back room and fetch me a bottle of scotch? I need something to ease the pain a bit.”
“Of course,” Maryann replied, already getting up to retrieve the bottle. When she came back with it, he took a long pull from it before he smacked his lips together in pleasure.
“That’s better, that’s much better,” Husband said, setting the bottle down beside him.
“Now, Mabel said you weren’t well today. Why’s that?”
Color flooded into Maryann’s cheeks, knowing was about to happen.
“I had a stomachache is all,” she whispered, inching away. Husband’s large hand clamped down on her knee again, stilling her.
“A stomachache you say? Just that? Or your woman’s ailment?” He asked.
Fear crept up her spine as she forced her neck to move her head up and down in an affirmative nod. She heard Husband swear, and grip on her knee got tighter.
“I thought- I thought this time it work, Maryann. I prayed that it would,” he sighed.
“I’m trying. I want to, I swear,” she rasped, already feeling the tears threatening to spill over.
“You know what I think? I think you’re lying. Yes, I think you really don’t want my children, and that makes me very upset, Maryann. I’m good provider, aren’t I? A good husband, who loves you and feeds you and clothe you. I deserve something in return for my kindnesses, don’t I?”
The pressure of his hand had become painful on Maryann’s knee, and she cried out, begging to be let go.
“Don’t I deserve something from you?” He bellowed.
“Yes!” Maryann sobbed.
Husband kicked the ice cream churner away from them, spilling the contents across the floor as he shoved Maryann’s body onto the bench. She struggled against him as she heard his belt and pants drop to the floor, even though she knew it was no use. Husband lifted her dress and tore away her panties and sanitary cloth before forcing himself inside of her.
“If you can’t do the duties of a wife and give me a child, then you will do the duties of a whore and service my deepest desires,” he growled.
Though Husband wasn’t the best at seduction, he had always been gentle and loving with his wives. He would make love to them missionary style, or if they were feeling bold, he would allow them to straddle him. Never had he forced any of them down that way he had Maryann, until now. He was hard, rough, and fast. When he was done, he shoved himself away from her, wiping himself clean with her torn panties.
“Since you like the basement so much,” he huffed as he continued to get dressed, “why don’t you move your things down here. I think it might be time for me to take another wife. Maybe she can hold the promises you failed to keep.”
CHAPTER 3
By the next morning Husband’s cough had settled into not only his chest but Mabel’s as well, making them both bedridden. Maryann did her best to help Carol and Shelly, but the knee that Husband had gripped so strongly the night before kept giving out, making her fall. By the third time it happened Carol had had enough, and helped her friend and sister-wife onto a stool.
“What’s happened to you?” She whispered.
Maryann shook her head, refusing to talk about it. Carol meant well, but if they were overheard by anyone it would get back to Husband and only cause her more trouble. As if to prove her point, Raymond Junior appeared around the corner, as if he’d been listening there the entire time. He looked crossly at Maryann.
“You said you would make us ice cream,” he whined.
Maryann smiled softly at him, and reached out to cup his cheek.
“I’m sorry little one, but the cream got spilled. I’ll ask your papa if I can make some more tonight.”
The little boy scowled and pushed her hand away. The reaction shocked both Carol and Maryann. All of the children in the house were normally very well behaved, and when Carol asked him why he did such a callous thing, his answer was even more surprising.
“Papa told me I didn’t have to listen to you anymore, Maryann. That you were no longer my Auntie. He sent me to fetch you by the way. You should hurry, he’s very cross.”
“What’s he talking about?” Carol asked Maryann as she helped her to her feet.
“Um, I don’t know. But I better get upstairs.”
“What took you so long?” Husband growled from the bed. His cheeks and eyes were flush with fever, and his nose was swollen from constantly blowing.
“I’m sorry,” Maryann apologized, lowering her head.
“Never mind. Mabel and I are too sick to travel to the Farmer’s Market today, but one of us must go. You had a driver’s license before you came here, yes?”
Maryann nodded her head, excitement filling her heart.
“Yes, and a clean driving record.”
Husband nodded his head, and reached over to the nightstand beside him to grab that small leather book from its drawer.
“The produce is already loaded onto the trailer, as are the quilts. This is my ledger. All the prices are in here, and you must write down every sale. Do you understand? Good. There’s a map in the truck that will take you to the farmer’s market. Our stall is number 305. You’re getting a late start today, but try to sell as much as you can.”
Husband held the book out to Maryann, waiting for her take it. When she was close enough to pluck it from his hand, he reached quickly around her wrist, gripping it painfully, just like he had her knee the night before. At his side, Mabel looked at her sympathetically, but said nothing.
“If you steal from me, or try to leave me I will make you pay. Am I understood?” His voice was low and deadly, with a promise of violence laced in his words.
“Yes, yes I understand,” Maryann gasped, trying not to cry out in pain.
Husband glared at her another second before he let her go and shoved her away, sending her tumbling backwards.
“Now go, the day’s already started.”
~
Joy flooded in Maryann’s heart as she watched the crowds of people mill around her. All of them looked as if they were thoroughly enjoying the farmer’s market, and she was too. Driving again had been the most freeing experience she’d had in years, and she had been thankful to experience it again. Following the map, she had found the market easily and parked the truck and trailer in the correct spot. As soon as she had the bushels of fruit and vegetables sat out people swarmed her, eager for the food and handing her money hand over fist.
Though it was still quite full, the market was slowly dying down at four o’ clock, and would close at five. Other than breakfast, she hadn’t eaten that day, and her stomach was rumbling loudly, begging for sustenance. She put her hand over it, willing it to be quiet.
“Sounds like you got a little animal in there.”
Maryann’s head shot up as she heard the close voice, her eyes coming in contact with a set of beautiful forest green eyes attached to a devilishly handsome face. Already Maryann could feel the blush creeping into her cheeks.
“Excuse me?” She asked, tucking her long hair behind her ear.
“You’re stomach, it’s really growling at you. Are you hungry?” The man asked.
Maryann smiled and looked down, shaking her head.
“No, I’m alright, thank you.”
The man stepped closer, bending his head so he could look up into her eyes. She laughed at his playfulness, and fought the temptation to reach out and touch the silky black strands of his hair.
“Are you sure? Because I have two bison burgers here, and I’m pretty sure I can only eat one. If you let me sit with you, I’ll give you the other, and we could split the fries. What do you say?”
The offer sounded too delicious to pass up, and Maryann agreed, thanking him for his kindness.
“No sweat. I’m William by the way. I run the cannabis tent over there. I sell ointments and tinctures made from THC to people who can’t afford pharmaceutical painkillers. What’s your name? And where’s the crotchety old bastard that usually runs this stand?”
Maryann suppressed a moan as she took her first bite of the bison burger. It had been so long since she’d eaten anything that was considered fast food, and she realized right then that she’d really missed the taste. She chewed the delicious meat and bread combo for a full minute before she swallowed and answered his questions.
“I’m Maryann, I’m one of- I mean, I’m Raymond’s wife. He’s sick today, so he sent me to take over the produce.” Maryann took another large bite of her burger, not sure what else to say.
“Wife?” William asked, confused.
“You can’t be his wife. I’ve met her, and she’s just as crotchety as he is. They don’t like me very much.”
That’s okay, Maryann thought, they don’t like me very much anymore either. Suddenly was feeling panicked. She knew that the laws of the world were different than those of the compound. Outside of it, men were not allowed to take on more than one wife. It was illegal.
“Thank you for the burger and fries, but I should get back to my stand. Husband will be cross if something gets stolen.”
Maryann moved to get up, and William didn’t try to stop her. He did however catch her, when her knee yet again buckled and nearly sent her to the ground.
“Are you alright?” He asked, lifting her up.
She couldn’t help but notice how soft and warm his embrace was as he held her up, and for a moment Maryann just lingered there, missing the feel of a kind touch. When she looked up, she saw William looking at her with concern clouding his bright green eyes.
“Yes,” she answered, slowly pushing away.
“I hurt my knee last night is all. I’m having trouble using it now. It’ll be better in a day or two,” she promised. They had reached her stall and she sat down in front of it on an upside down empty basket.
“Here, let me see,” William said.
Before she could say no, he had dropped to his left knee and had the skirt of her dress hiked up to just above the knees, revealing the large purple bruises shaped like Husband’s fingers.
“No!” Maryann, gasped, but it was too late. William had seen them, and had sworn under his breath.
“Did he do that to you?” He asked, anger in his voice.
“I fell,” Maryann whispered, but put no effort in making it sound truthful. William stared at her hard for a long moment, saying nothing. Finally he pulled her dress back down to her ankles, and walked away. Maryann’s heart sank as he left, but she didn’t try to stop him. Of course he found her bruises ugly. And why did she want to be pleasing to him anyways? She was married.
To her surprise she saw William walking back towards her a few minutes later, a small paper bag in his left hand. He stopped in front of her and kneeled again.
“May I?” He asked this time, referring her dress.
Blushing, Maryann nodded her head, and let William raise the skirt of her dress again, just enough to show the bruise. This time she could have sworn she heard a low growl come from his throat. Reaching down, he pulled a tin the size of her palm out of the paper bag, and opened it. Inside was a dark green salve. William dipped his fingers into it, and gently began applying it to the finger shaped bruises on her knee. Immediately she felt a cool, tingling relief spread down her leg.
“This is a homemade pain reliever,” William explained, rubbing a little more on.
“It has THC in it but it won’t make you high, it’ll just take the edge off, okay? There’s also an antiseptic in it if you get cut. It’ll take the swelling down. Use as much as you need as many times as you need it. Don’t worry about running out, I’ll give you a new tin if you do.”
“But, I don’t have any money,” Maryann explained. The tingles in her leg grew, but she was certain it was more from William’s soft touch that was still massaging her knee, not from the salve.
“Don’t you worry about that, okay? Look, I put my card in the bag too. If you need anything, more salve, a ride, someone to talk to, call me okay?”
CHAPTER 4
With the tin and card hid carefully within the confines of her dress, Maryann drove the truck and trailer back home. She had sold out of everything and all of the money, down to the penny, had been accounted for. She was sure that there would be no reason for Husband to be cross with her. When she entered the house, she went straight up to his bedroom and gave him back the leather ledger and the bank envelope.
“You sold out?” Husband asked, surprised.
“How?”
Maryann shrugged her shoulders, and told him that she just talked to people, and then they’d come and buy produce or one of the handmade quilts.
“Talk?” Husband asked, furrowing his brow.
“And what is that you told them about?” He asked defensively.
“They were mostly mothers with children,” Maryann replied truthfully.
“I just started talking to them about how beautiful they were. Then I’d show them our quilts, and explain how they’re made of cotton and wool, all organic products. Then they’d ask about the vegetables and if we used pesticides. As soon as I said no they flocked to the baskets. That’s all, I swear.”
Husband eyed her suspiciously as he coughed. Finally he nodded his head, as if he believed her.
“Perhaps I’ll get more use of you after all,” he told her.
“There’s still a couple hours before nightfall, go out to the fields and fill up the baskets again. I’ll send you tomorrow and Sunday as well, but you have to wake up five instead of six. Since you have no ‘wifely’ duties anymore, I don’t think that will be a problem for you, will it?”
“No Husband,” Maryann assured him quickly, trying to hide her happiness.
“Good. While you were gone I had the boys move your things down to the basement. When Monday comes around Mabel here will have a new set of chores for you.”
Maryann nodded her head, hoping that he was too sick to come to the basement that night to repeat what he’d done the night before. After he dismissed her, Maryann went quickly to her new room. As promised, she found all of her things, not that she had many, piled on top of the full sized mattress. Hastily Maryann pulled the tin and William’s card from its hiding place and tucked them into her pillow case before she left to fill the empty baskets with more produce.
~
“Maryann, what has happened?” Carol whispered, praying no one heard her. It was much later and the entire house had gone to bed. When she was sure it was safe, Carol snuck down into the basement to talk to her sister. While she had been at the market, Husband had called all of the other wives and the children into his bedroom to explain that Maryann was no longer to be considered a Sister or an Auntie. The news had shocked Carol, but she didn’t dare try to ask why.
In the basement Maryann had shifted her belongings around until it looked presentable. She put her bed in the corner, close to the large fireplace so she could stay warm in the winter, and she hung her dresses along the pipes. The small chest of drawers that held her undergarments served as her nightstand, and though it was damp and dingy, Maryann felt more free living in the basement than she did living upstairs. She had been in a deep, dream filled sleep when Carol had roused her awake.
“Why are you down here?” Carol asked, shaking Maryann’s shoulder. Yawning, Maryann sat up in the bed, rubbing her eyes.
“I cannot perform as a wife should,” Maryann answered softly.
Carol shook her head, not understanding. Sighing, Maryann decided to tell her the entire story, starting months back to where Husband had made his first threat of taking another wife if she couldn’t produce a child. As time passed, his temper with her had gotten wor
se. He would go in between bouts of kindness and rage, often confusing Maryann.
“When I started my monthly flow yesterday, it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. He told me that if I couldn’t act like a wife, then he’d treat me like a whore-so he did.”
Carol’s eye grew large as she heard the implication. Husband could be cross at times, recently more often than not. Still, she had never suspected that he would raise his hand to his wives or force them into relations.
