These cots can’t be as comfortable as those used by the people in the outside world when they are selected for their annual rituals, Eva thought.
She recalled the horrible stories of the outside world, passed down from grandparents at community dinners and Tessie’s endless speeches. Rob had never heard of the gingerbread ritual, but maybe that was because he was from a big city called New York, a five-hour drive he said from the village with millions of people.
She decided the bad stories about the outside world were just that – stories. Rob was a good man who spoke of opportunities, ocean beaches, and amusement parks. She longed to visit an amusement park on the ocean shore.
No one spoke. She waited for Charlotte and Reginald to fall asleep before using the latrine. Looking around the jail she noticed in the shadows of the outer room a guard was watching her, the flickering lanterns revealed his toothless grin and straining eyes.
She recognized him as Jackson’s idiot son Brainerd who had a reputation of mistreating the younger women and beating boys when in private. Eva looked away, finished discreetly, and returned to her cot.
Daybreak.
The scent of coffee and baked goods wafted through the jail as a few militiamen on guard duty consumed their breakfasts in the outer room at the guard’s station. Eva lay in the cot wondering how Rob must be faring, searching for her in the woods during the night.
Would he know that she was selected and incarcerated?
Her packed bag sat hidden at home under a floorboard in her bedroom closet. She recounted everything she had packed for her journey away from this place: her journal, the brooch her mother always wore according to her father, her father’s wind-up watch, some clothes she had sewn and knitted for herself, and one hundred fifty-three dollars she stole from her grandmother’s safe.
How did Tessie know of her pregnancy?
It was still too soon to show, Eva had served as a midwife for the Wilson family twice in the past three years and to Charlotte Emerson, her jail mate, a few times before that; she was all too familiar with the process.
Reginald sat in the far corner of the cell staring at the packed dirt floor. He had not spoken once since their arrival.
Anson Marlowe, a lieutenant in the militia and a much smaller man than his older brother Jackson, gently placed a platter of freshly baked apple muffins and a pitcher of hot coffee in the middle of the table.
He bowed his head to the selectees and wished them all good luck as he exited the cell.
Charlotte had been sitting at the table since dawn writing letters to her children should she be this year’s honoree, she did not want to leave anything unmentioned to her three beautiful girls.
Eva understood, those girls were the only reason Charlotte had survived life in the village this long.
She wondered why anyone remained in the confines of the village walls and Tessie’s oppression; the outside world was freeing. She wanted to visit other towns or even a city, meet new people.
Why wouldn’t anyone else want to leave too? The number of families had dwindled over the years as the gingerbread ritual ended their lineages.
At this rate the village would cease to exist in another couple generations. She knew this. It wasn’t hard to figure. Unless the bylaws changed soon, little kids and babies would be all that’s left behind.
A swell of voices rumbled outside from the green. Never a good sign as one bylaw mandated a ‘quiet heavenly utopia’ in all public spaces, especially the green.
Eva could hear several voices expressing concern and outrage, just a few yards from the barred window above her cot. Reginald approached and stood at the window, leaning over her, watching the assembly. He finally spoke.
“Looks like they killed somebody. Not from around here.”
Eva sat up. “Who?”
“The militia. They killed somebody. Carrying a severed head.”
“Why do they keep doing this?” asked Charlotte, “They ain’t making any friends with outsiders doing this.”
“I wish I knew,” said Reginald, “but I do know them militia are hungry for blood. They don’t back down to a fight with bears or bobcats, so other people ain’t no different.”
Eva felt sweat forming from under the blanket as her insides flashed hot then cold. Her gut unsettled. She needed to ask, and she knew the answer. “What’s the head look like?”
Reginald squinted. “Looks like brown hair, kind of long, light skin…that’s all I can see.” He looked at Eva, “too many people standing around to know if it’s your friend.”
“My friend?” Eva exclaimed. “How…what do you mean by that?”
“That young man you’ve been meeting in the woods. We all know about him.” He exhaled slowly. It was clear he felt some relief. “We’ve seen him around the forest hunting rabbits and deer. Sometimes with other outsider folk.”
Charlotte chirped in: “I thought by now you would’ve introduced him at one of the last socials.” She cleared her throat, taking a more proper tone, “it’s only good etiquette to introduce a new beau from the outside to our community. It’s in the bylaws.”
“And if you want him to live,” said Reginald.
Eva felt an apple-sized lump invading her throat. “I need to see.” She sprung up to the window where Reginald had already planted himself. “I need to see if it’s him.”
She watched the crowd outside, Reginald shifted to the right to make room. A mix of militiamen, tradesmen, and a woman from the nursery were armed with their rifles, pistols, and semi-automatic machine guns.
Tessie arrived with the two other council members: Jackson and Hanna Lee. The crowd parted allowing the council to saunter through; Tessie stared at each person’s face as she worked her way to the stone pedestal in the middle of the trampled and muddied green upon which the decapitated head was placed.
“You did well boys,” she announced studying the head. “To whom do I pay this bounty?”
A short man with no hair stepped forward, Eva recognized him as one of the Stewart family.
“I , mam…I found this scoundrel hiding outside the back gate with a shotgun aimed at Mike here,” he pointed to the man next to him, “Mike was on guard duty overnight. I shot the bastard in the chest before he could hurt poor Mike.” He sucked in the cold air and looked around the crowd. “Then I got to work on the body, took ‘til sunrise to get that head off.”
Tessie rejoiced. “Ah-ha, well done, Daryl Stewart. I shall pay you three hundred dollars.” Three hundred dollars would pay for a new horse or a few guns. “And the body? Disposed of, I hope.”
“Yes mam, cut up and left for the wolves and vultures.”
“Splendid.”
Eva watched as her grandmother lifted Rob’s head by the hair above her own head. “This I what happens when you disobey our laws,” Tessie’s voice impaled the still wintry air. Eva dropped into the cot and cried. She pulled the blanket over her head. The world was ending.
“Oh, poor dear,” said Charlotte, “you know this happens when outsiders who aren’t introduced come around. I hate to say it, but he had it coming.”
“You of all people in this community shoulda known better,” Reginald said. “Tessie’s your granny, after all.”
They heard the familiar sounds of slow footsteps aided by the tap of a wooden cane approaching the cell from around the corner. The heavy oak door leading in and out of the stone jail slammed shut.
“Eva, my dear Eva,” Tessie called, “someone’s here to see you.”
Eva pulled the blanket away from her face. Her grandmother came into view from around the corner where the guard’s station was located. A dusty beam of morning sunlight crossed her wrinkled face exaggerating the shadows around her sunken eyes; another caught a glimpse of the object she held.
“My dear granddaughter, you must come see your visitor.”
“No,” Eva said.
A hard and semi-hollow thud sounded against the bars to their cell. Eva uncovered her eyes to
see Rob’s dead eyes staring back at her.
Avenge my death. Do not consume the blood.
Eva clapped her hands over her ears and screamed.
“Next time you’ll be more honest with me,” Tessie said pressing the disembodied head against the bars, “not that I expect there will be one after today.”
Eva threw a nearby water glass at her grandmother; it bounced off the bars dropping to the floor with a dull thump. “I hate you! You’ve killed everyone I have ever loved.”
“Wonderful, my dear. We shall see how deep inside that bastard’s womb your hatred brews while our god and the devil himself duel for both your lives at noon.” Tessie led her small entourage out of the jailhouse. “Put this thing on a stake in the green,” she commanded from outside.
Eva despised the gingerbread mask consumption since her earliest memories, a tradition almost as old as the village. In the tradition of a founder’s untimely death in the community’s first years, a wax death mask was molded from the dead honoree’s face.
The wax was then cast in iron at the blacksmith’s shop, where Joel Roberts and his apprentices created hinges, locks, cutlery, and weapons. The region was rich in iron ore, along with a warm water spring, an idyllic setting perfect for self-sustenance.
Three baking molds would be cast from the newly sculpted iron death mask, which is then polished and coated in a lacquer and displayed on the meetinghouse walls when not used during the winter ritual.
Eva was granted the privilege as a child to hand deliver the baking molds to the central kitchen where they would be used to bake gingerbread cakes in the likeness of the honoree’s face for the following year’s ritual, one of which would contain the toxic dark blood.
On this solstice at noon, as the bylaws stated, the three selectees were to consume the gingerbreads at the stone pedestal located in the center of the green in full witness of the whole community.
The one to have consumed the dark blood injected gingerbread cake would die within minutes, staving off the angel of death for another year. Charlotte, Reginald, and Eva would eat the likeness of Eva’s own father Gregory Montgomery, a good man, whom most everyone in village had either loved or respected.
It will never happen, Eva thought.
Never.
~~~
Noon quickly approached.
Eva remained motionless on the cot the full morning facing the wall. Jackson, Anson, and Brainerd arrived to escort the three selectees to the pedestal at the green.
Reginald and Charlotte cooperated with two of the Marlowe men. Anson stood over Eva telling her it was time to go.
Eva did not move.
“Come on Eva,” Anson said, “it’s your time.” She remained still. He placed his hand near her mouth. “I don’t think she’s breathing,” he called to the guards outside the cell.
They rushed in.
Anson rolled her away from the wall; bloodshot eyes stared up at him. Wads of the tattered blanket were stuffed in her mouth.
“The bitch killed herself,” said a guard.
Anson studied Eva’s body. “You’re telling me she stuffed all that in her mouth to choke herself to death?”
“Dunno, don’t care. I’ll go tell Jackson and Tess.” He lumbered off.
“Poor girl,” Anson whispered as he placed his hand over her belly. Faint thumping. “Get the doctor, we might be able to save the baby,” he said over his shoulder to the remaining guard.
“No need,” said Tessie as she entered the cell, “I brought the doctor.” Next to her stood Dr Miller, the village’s only living resident to have attended a college; he was a rare success story of the old recruitment efforts by Tessie’s late husband. “Is she dead? Has my granddaughter stolen from us today?”
Dr Miller approached asking everyone to stand back. He felt for a pulse around Eva’s neck and palm. “She’s alive, just unconscious.” he said as he pulled the wad of fabric from her mouth. “She’s a good girl, a wonderful midwife. So sad to see this. I think the baby’s safe.”
“That filthy little whore,” screamed Tessie. “Her spirit will pay! When this is all done at noon, cut her open and bring the baby to me.” She stormed out of the cell. “According to my watch, you have exactly six minutes ‘til noon. Get her out there.”
Outside the residents of the village had gathered, many wearing the lacquered iron masks that had adorned the meetinghouse wall the night before. Tessie approached the pedestal where Charlotte and Reginald were seated in folding chairs. The doctor and the guards followed escorting Eva’s semi-conscious body.
“What happened?” asked a woman in the crowd.
“Why’s Eva not able to walk?” asked another.
Tessie assumed her position in front of the pedestal. “Eva has committed the worst offense in the history of our community,” she announced. “She has attempted to take her life this morning, with the ill intention of disrupting our tradition. By the will of our god she will consume the dark blood gingerbread today.”
“This isn’t right,” Anson called out among the murmuring voices of the crowd.
“Shut up, Anson,” Jackson responded. “Know your place.”
Anson approached Tessie in front of the pedestal and spoke to the crowd. “This is not what this community is about. This old self-serving woman is leading us down a wicked path.”
Tessie hit Anson in the face with her cane. “Get to the back of the crowd now, Anson Marlowe, that is an order!”
She placed the iron mask of her dead son’s likeness over her face. “The consumption shall now commence.” She shoved the gingerbread cakes from across the pedestal to the three selectees.
Charlotte grasped and tore off a bite from the cheek of Gregory Montgomery. Reginald broke off the nose and quickly shoved it in his mouth.
They each continued to eat cautiously, watching each other for signs of the dark blood or death. Eva sat still, eyes half shut, watching her father’s image carefully consumed by the other two selectees.
Everyone spectated as the two selectees slowly finished their gingerbread cakes while Eva sat motionless. Masks came off one at a time and the whir of voices climbed as residents openly questioned their participation in such a strange ritual.
“Consume your cake,” Tess’s shrill voice screamed into Eva’s right ear.
“This is crazy, Tess,” a male voice called out, “it’s clearly not random.”
“That will be enough,” Tessie said smacking her cane on the pedestal.
Several voiced shouted in disapproval.
“Wait,” shouted Charlotte’s husband, “you knew which selectee was going to die all along? You taught us this was god’s will.”
Tessie scowled at the question. “How dare you question my authority, Mister Emerson? Jackson, one more such question from anyone in this crowd and I order your men to shoot.”
“You will do no such thing,” Charlotte said. She jumped up from her folding chair and knocked Tessie to the ground. “This crazy gingerbread eating is to keep us down. It’s all you! It’s always been you.”
Tessie sat up and tore off the iron mask. She jabbed Charlotte in the stomach with her cane then swung the edge of the mask across Charlotte’s face. “You shouldn’t have done that dear,” Tessie said as she stood up. “Your girls need a daddy.”
Charlotte pressed and held the front of her blouse against the gash on her face. Reginald escorted Charlotte away from the pedestal.
“Jackson, shoot Mister Emerson.”
Jackson raised his rifle and aimed at Emerson’s face. A loud shot rang out and Jackson collapsed.
“Daaaaad,” Brainerd cried out as he dropped to his knees. The crowd dispersed in all directions.
Anson charged past his fallen brother pointing his pistol at Tessie. “This ends now,” he said.
The gunshot had alerted Eva of her surroundings. She spotted her father’s death mask in Tessie’s hand staring back at her. Tessie looked confused by the gunshot, paralyzed.
&nbs
p; Make her consume my blood, her father’s voice said, it’s your time.
Eva spotted Rob’s head spiked on a tall post at the edge of the green. Rob’s disembodied voice pierced her brain. Revenge!
Eva picked up the uneaten gingerbread cake and forced it into Tessie’s face. “Die you horrible woman, die!” Tessie dropped her cane and lost balance falling backwards onto the stone pedestal.
Eva pressed the cake against Tessie’s nose and mouth. The cake tore and crumbled, the red-black liquid it held slowly oozed down the sides of Tessie’s face as Eva straddled her whole body over her grandmother’s chest, pressing one knee into her diaphragm.
Tessie’s arms flailed against the stone and her legs kicked the air just above the ground as Eva forced chunks of the blood-soaked cake into the near-toothless mouth between gnashes and gasps for breath.
Anson held Tessie’s arms down against the stone as Eva continued to force-feed her grandmother. Tessie’s appendages eventually fell limp. Her eye’s stopped blinking, no more attempts at breathing.
The rush of adrenaline and the lifetime of buried rage slowly subsided. Eva backed off her grandmother’s corpse. Smears and drizzles of the dark blood, made from a mixture of copperhead venom and her father’s actual blood drawn after his death, stained the pallor of Tessie’s frozen face.
Mouth agape, stuffed with the gingerbread.
Eva took a few deep breaths and shed a few more tears. She never took someone’s life before. It felt…unusual.
It felt empowering.
“Anson,” Eva said with some assertiveness, “what do you think the bylaws say about two councilmembers dying, and a third one who’s lost her mind?”
“Next of kin take responsibility, I would expect,” he said between labored breaths.
He had been sobbing as he turned from the direction of his brother’s body where Brainerd continued to cry into his dead father’s chest.
“Those bylaws aren’t written down anywhere. Tessie and Jackson made ‘em up as it suited them.”
Eva picked up her father’s death mask and studied its features running her fingers over the polished contours of his high cheeks and deep eye sockets.
Masks Page 3
