The Mark of Cain

by A D Seeley

  Her smile turned naughty. “I bet that’s the first time anything like that has happened here.”

  He laughed. “You’d be surprised. Priests and nuns have been hooking up for centuries. Some of the most revered cardinals had their own mistresses, and I’m not even going to tell you how many popes had their own men or women….”

  Her eyes opened wide. “Are you serious?”

  Shrugging his bare shoulders, he said, “It’s not natural to be alone. We’re programmed a certain way. It’s instinctual.”

  “Wow. I didn’t know that. I mean, I know it’s instinctual since my body just seemed to know what to do last night, but I didn’t know about priests and nuns, and cardinals and popes….”

  “You didn’t notice how protective Father Carroll was of Sister Kelly, and how she moved toward him when I walked in last night?”

  “Father Carroll and Sister Kelly?” she squeaked, her eyebrows in her hair.

  “Yeah.”

  Her face scrunched up in deep disgust. “But they’re old.”

  Inac laughed so hard at this that Hara began giggling as well.

  “What? Why are you laughing at me?” she asked, lightly hitting his chest.

  “So what if they’re old? It’s a good thing they still have a healthy sex life. It does wonders for your health. Besides, do you really only want to have sex for the next thirty years and then go without for the remainder of your life?”

  “Well…no. But….”

  “Then how can you expect them to?”

  Her lips puckering up as she thought about it, she said, “I guess I can see your point.”

  “In a relationship, you only need to worry when you no longer feel like sleeping together. Your sex life mirrors the health of your relationship.”

  She smiled. “Then I guess ours is healthy,” she said before kissing him. She then followed that up by proving her point; apparently their relationship was very healthy.

  It was when they were finished and only cuddling again, their long limbs splayed everywhere like tree branches, and Hara’s hair all over like the snakes on Medusa, that a tentative knock sounded on the door.

  “Yes?” Inac called, trying not to laugh at Hara, who was stifling back giggles of her own by biting down on her fist…and then on Inac’s chest….

  “Is Hara with you?” came Tracker’s voice.

  Inac looked at Hara, who had stopped biting him to frantically shake her head while mouthing the word no.

  “Um…nope,” he said, trying not to laugh. “Sorry.”

  Suddenly, the door opened and Father Carroll walked in. Hara shrieked, grabbing the sheets to cover herself. She wasn’t quick enough, though, because they were scattered around the room from a combination of last night and this morning. Behind the priest, Inac could see Tracker’s startled expression at having walked in on the two of them naked on top of a tiny bed.

  Inac jumped in front of Hara as she wrapped a sheet around herself. He didn’t care that he had nothing on. Right now, he was just pissed off.

  “What’s the big idea?!” he demanded. “Do you make it a habit to just walk into people’s rooms without asking?!”

  “Only when I need to know the truth in a situation,” the old man said, his voice oozing with disdain.

  “You could have just asked Hara. You know she doesn’t know how to lie. Instead, you come in here, completely disrespecting her!”

  “We were worried,” the priest said. “Neither of you came to breakfast and our Thanksgiving meal will be starting soon. Her bed wasn’t slept in. I guess we now know why….”

  “Don’t you dare judge her! You have no right to while you’re sleeping with Sister Kelly. At least Hara never took a vow of celibacy.”

  Now that she was safely wrapped up in the stiff white sheets, Hara put a hand on his arm. “Inac, just leave it.” She then turned toward Father Carroll and said, “We’ll be right out. If you could please close the door behind you so we can get dressed….”

  He turned and slammed the door, leaving Hara to quickly dress.

  “I’m gonna go take a shower and get in my Thanksgiving outfit,” she said. “You should do the same.”

  She was so calm that he had to ask, “Hara?”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay. Thanks for getting so defensive for me. It shows me how much you care. You should’ve just left it alone, though.”

  She didn’t say anything else before leaving the room. At dinner—really an overly-salty lunch since the feast was at two—she acted as though nothing had happened. Father Carroll and Tracker both tried to do the same, but it was obvious that they were both upset. Inac himself was quiet; he was still angry with Father Carroll for humiliating Hara. Inac knew that was what was behind her overly-happy display. It wasn’t natural like it had been yesterday. Today she was trying too hard.

  Inac wasn’t in the mood to visit later so instead, while Hara played with the children, he wandered around the many rooms, checking out all of the beautiful artwork. One thing he appreciated more than anything was art. Because he had personally witnessed many of the things portrayed in the religious paintings here, it was almost like looking at snapshots of his life. He was enjoying those memories until he came to one particular painting….

  ***

  Tracker made his way to Father Carroll’s office, his head down so he could stare at his feet as they moved forward. Today had been surreal. First, with them thinking the worst when neither Hara nor Inac had showed for breakfast. Then, with that whole uncomfortable scene in Inac’s room followed by an equally uncomfortable dinner. And now, Inac and Hara didn’t seem to be talking. Were they fighting? Hara’s embarrassment had turned to anger when Inac had begun to yell at Father Carroll. Had they finally found a weakness in their relationship? Or were they keeping their distance to try to be respectful?

  “Enter,” Father Carroll called when Tracker knocked.

  He stuck his head inside, still holding the door. “You wanted to see me?”

  Father Carroll was frantically going through a stack of papers on a desk probably as ancient as the orphanage was…which was pretty damn ancient.

  “Yes,” he said as he threw a stack aside to grab another one. “Where’s Hara?”

  “Playing with the kids, I think.”

  “And ‘Inac’?”

  “Wandering around. I’m not sure.”

  “But they’re not together?” he asked, freezing his movements and throwing Tracker a questioning look.

  “They weren’t when I was told that you wanted me in here.”

  “Good,” he said, nodding. “We’ll do it when the children go to bed then.”

  “Do what?”

  “We’re taking Hara away.”

  Tracker almost passed out. He was grateful for the sturdy door handle holding him up. “We’re what?!”

  “We’re taking her to a safe place.”

  “I thought—?”

  “I have my orders, just as you have yours. I told my superiors the entire story last night. Then, when I called to inform Them of…of the scene this afternoon…They told me their plan. Don’t worry. She’ll like where we’re taking her.”

  “But he loves her!” he yelled, throwing open the door and stepping inside, accidently slamming it behind him—he hadn’t meant to be so forceful. “He won’t hurt her. Today you saw firsthand how protective of her he is!”

  Father Carroll’s face grave, he said, “I also saw the road she’s heading down with him. It’s a road full of sin and degradation. She’ll never fulfill the prophecy while on that road.”

  “What is this stupid prophecy anyways? Nobody’s ever told me.”

  “I don’t even know it. I only know that the key to it is in her name. However, the problem with that is that we can’t find it in any language known to man. We’ve found names similar that mean ‘Angel or Archangel’ and, though she is that, that doesn’t tell us anything. We’ve had scholars searching for it for centuries.”

  Unable to c
ontain his disbelief at their stupid prophecy, Tracker found his mouth saying, “Then how do we even know it’s about Hara?”

  “It spoke a lot about where and when she would be born, as well as what she would look like. Apparently, it was all riddles. Things to do with who was in the Superbowl and World Series, referring to them as battles for the ring and pennant, or something like that. Also, what she would look like, astronomical phenomenons, and nicknames for the city and hospital she’d be born in. Basically, it didn’t make sense until after everything had occurred.”

  “And there’s nothing to hint about what she’s to do?”

  “If there is, then I haven’t been told. I only know of the warning if she didn’t fulfill it.”

  Buying time for this all to sink in, Tracker asked, “And what was that?”

  “Something about how, if she did fulfill it, then forgiveness and love would rule throughout the end of time. If not, then hate and rage would.”

  “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

  “No,” Father Carroll replied, slamming a piece of paper onto the desk in frustration. “If only we knew what her name meant….”

  “I bet Inac knows. He knows the languages that existed before they made records of them.” Realizing what that meant, Tracker added, “So he knows the endgame and we don’t.”

  “No. He never got any part of the prophecy that spoke of what she’s to do or about her name.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I was told that he spent numerous years torturing and killing members of The Order in attempts to learn the prophecy. As far as we know his men only got enough information out of them to find her, not to know what she’s to do. The Order was careful, see. They would give each of the many clues to many different people so that nobody would have all of the information in case they were captured. Once he believed that she was dead, They decided to give more of it to us, especially me, since I was the one to care for her. I needed to know what to look for to know when she had fulfilled her purpose. That’s why I know about the love and forgiveness, though it makes no sense to me. I keep telling Them that I need to know all of it if I’m to know when she’s fulfilled it, but They’ve been wary about giving too much of it out.”

  This was all interesting. But still…. “Still, how do we know it’s really about her? Maybe she’s a decoy. Or maybe the prophecy was all made up to make Inac fear something. It’s certainly kept him occupied….”

  “No. It’s real. Five men who had never met before all wrote the same thing word for word.”

  Tracker felt his stomach sink. For some reason, he didn’t want this to really involve the only person he really loved. That’s why he vociferated, “But Hara?”

  “The same clues that led us to her led him to her as well. Besides, you know her. Who is better than her at loving and forgiving?”

  Father Carroll was right. Something in Tracker’s gut was telling him that. It was also telling him that They shouldn’t take her away. She needed to have the choice. She also needed to know the truth. It was time for that.

  “Why don’t I go talk to her?” he offered, not sure yet what his plan was. “Make sure to keep her from Inac while you finish with the preparations?”

  Father Carroll smiled, some of his stress evaporating along with it. “That is a wise intellection. Thank you.”

  As soon as Tracker was free, he ran toward the common room, but it was empty. Then he ran to the kitchens, where Hara usually helped with the dishes. He didn’t find her there either. Luckily, the third place he checked was her bedroom and she was in it, alone and reading a school book.

  He slammed the door behind him.

  “Hara, we need to talk,” he cried.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice full of concern as she set her book aside and basically leapt toward him with those Amazonian legs of hers.

  “Where’s Inac? We have to get you two out of here now,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her behind him toward the door.

  “What? Why?”

  “Because They’re coming for you.”

  “Who?”

  “People who don’t want you and Inac to be together.”

  “Because of his family?” she asked, stopping dead in her tracks before he could get her out of her room. At least she seemed to believe him.

  “No. Because of him.”

  “What about him? He’s wonderful.”

  It was time. Tracker didn’t want to be the one to tell her, but it was time she knew the truth. The truth about everything….

  No longer trying to pull her, instead stopping to look her in the eyes so she would see the seriousness they held, he said, “Hara, I have to tell you something.”

  “Okay.”

  “Your family didn’t die in a fire.”

  She just looked at him in confusion. “Then how did they die?”

  “They were all murdered. The fire was just…well, I don’t know why they set the fire. But I do know that the person who killed your family was after you. That’s why you were brought here instead of going to live with your aunt and uncle. It wasn’t that they didn’t want you. It was that they thought you’d be safer here.”

  “Why? Why would somebody want to hurt me? I was just a baby.” He had to give her credit for not freaking out.

  “Why isn’t as important as who.”

  “Okay,” she said, her eyebrows almost touching in her confusion. “Who?”

  “Inac.”

  She seemed to believe his words until he said that. Now she chuckled. “He would’ve been just a kid, Tracker.”

  “No he wouldn’t have been,” he said, dreading what was to come next. “You see, Inac isn’t his real name.”

  She rolled her eyes and tapped her foot; she obviously didn’t want to hear this but was going to be polite like she’d been taught to be. “Fine. Then who is he really?” she asked with more than just a hint of sarcasm.

  “Cain. Hara, Inac is really Cain.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  ***

  Inac stared at the painting of his parents. Why was it that both were so frequently painted fair—his father, Adamu, usually a blonde, and his mother, Hawwa, a redhead? In reality, his father had had black hair, an olive complexion, and dark, slightly slanted eyes, while his mother had been light in both hair and skin color, with large round eyes the exact color of the sky.

  Although most of his siblings shared Adamu’s black hair and dark eyes, some, like Abel, had been lighter, favored because of their similarities to their mother. Although Inac’s eyes had been a bright blue like the wildflowers that grew along the path leading to the crops he tended, he looked a lot like his father with his hardened, masculine features, even though his father had never been as large as Inac had been. Their enormous family was interesting because, even with their similar coloring and features, each of his siblings looked distinctive from the next.

  None of them, not even the lightest among them, were fully Caucasian. They were everything; the beginning of each race, each carrying genes that the genetic lottery eventually used to evolve into Asians, Indians, Blacks, Whites, Native Americans, and so forth.

  His parents looked so happy in this painting, wearing nothing but leaves as they frolicked in the Garden of Eden, and he couldn’t help but wonder if they really had been so carefree before he’d come into their lives. They certainly felt that way around his little brother, Abel. He had always been so annoyingly perfect….

  …“Good job!” Ka-in’s mother Hawwa cried, holding up the rabbit Ab-l had brought back from the hunt as she pushed her blonde curls from her delicate face. From the corner of his eye, Ka-in glanced down at the game spread across his own wide shoulders that were bare of the tanned skins he wore that fell from his waist, hiding the part of his body that God had deemed as for only him and his wife to see. He had brought back a large buck. Where was his praise?

  His mother turned to him and her smile gave way to a scowl. “What took you so lon
g? Everyone’s hungry.”

  “Ab-l talks too much. He kept scaring away all the deer,” he answered, his grumpiness saturating his tone. “I told you I didn’t want him going with me.” Ab-l wasn’t man enough to hunt like Ka-in was.

  “Don’t blame him for you taking an extra day. He couldn’t have talked that much.”

  But he did. Sometimes Ka-in just wanted to stuff Ab-l’s loincloth down his throat, but his little brother would undoubtedly find a way to speak around it, so really, it wasn’t worth the trouble.

  His father, Adamu, walked up then, puffing out his lean chest to look larger than he was, as he tended to do when Ka-in and his large stature were present. “Don’t disrespect your mother, Ka-in,” he chastised. “Instead, why don’t you go see to your family.”

  It wasn’t a suggestion, but a command. His father was the head of the family and was to be obeyed at all costs.

  Ka-in dropped the buck into the dirt for his father to clean before going to the hut he lived in with his wife, Awan, and their thirteen children.

  “Father! Father!” they all called, running and jumping on him, trying to wrestle him to the ground. It wasn’t an easy task seeing as how Ka-in was the largest of all of his brothers and their sons.

  Ka-in laughed and wrestled back while his youngest son, Bale, became tangled in his long hair the color of the night sky.

  “What are you doing?” he asked Bale as he tried to get the little monkey out. His son, giggling in response, wrapped himself deeper into Ka-in’s filthy waves.

  “How was the hunt?” his wife asked once the children had settled some, both her hands on her large stomach. She would be having their fourteenth child any day now. In his mother’s case, each time she’d been with child, both a boy and a girl were born. However, Awan had not had more than one child for the past four births and, with the size her stomach was, it was obvious that she carried only one this time as well.

  “Good,” he answered her as he greeted her with a kiss, playing with her hair as dark as the soil he tilled. “I killed a large buck. He’ll feed us for a couple of days. I thought I would come say hello before I go check on the crops.”