Paradise Abductions

by Mia Rodriguez

  Chapter 26

  I clean, scrub, and disinfect. The house is spotless by the time I finish. I drag myself to the Mister's study where all of the family-wives except for Betsey, who is ferociously standing over them, are kneeling before Master Barstowe. His discipline club sits ominously on the top of his desk.

  "Little Bird," chirps the Mister. "Join us."

  "There's a spot for you here," Betsey states, pointing next to Lauren.

  "No!" the Mister snaps. "She's not kneeling down with these sinners!"

  "But, Master Barstowe," coos Betsey, "as your destiny-bride, she needs to learn to kneel at your presence."

  "I said no!"

  "It'll be good for her."

  The Mister is furious. "What about no don't you understand?!!!"

  "Yes, Master Barstowe," she says dejectedly.

  "Little Bird," he commands me, "I want you to sit away from them, over there." He points to the black sofa close to his bookcase. Holding in a disgusted growl, I go to it and sit down. I wish he would just let me leave to the slave quarters. The tension in the room is thick, and the family-wives' faces are teary and fearful

  "From now on," he states, "we'll be meeting every night. Most of the times you'll be excused, Little Bird, since you're usually here during the day."

  I rush of relief flows through my body.

  "We could have her come here at night," offers Betsey.

  The Mister gives her a cold stare. "I don't want to get her polluted by these sinners!"

  "Yes, Mister Barstowe," Betsey sighs unhappily.

  He stomps over to the family-wives and halts in front of them. "Betsey has been informing me of your transgressions during the day. And I'm very upset!"

  "We both are," Betsey chimes in.

  "I'm disappointed and disgusted with you!"

  "I hope you know that Master Barstowe has a right to stamp out your sinful lives at this very moment! Your reckless disobedience is shameful!"

  "But I'm going to show mercy on you because my Little Bird has inspired forgiveness in me," he says, smiling at me. Betsey throws me a furious glare.

  "What have we done, Master Barstowe?" asks Lauren, sobbing.

  "You know what you've done!" snaps Betsey.

  "Tell them," commands the Mister. "They should have their sins thrown in their faces."

  "They've been thinking evil thoughts!"

  What?

  "A good wife just thinks good thoughts about her husband."

  "I haven't been thinking bad thoughts about you, Master Barstowe," Lauren assures.

  "Repent, you sinner!!!"

  "Yes, repent!" the Mister demands.

  "I saw how all three of you looked at Master Barstowe's discipline club--as if it was evil or something. If you think it's evil then you must think he's evil"

  He is.

  "So you think I'm evil," roars the Mister.

  All three wives deny this vociferously.

  "Stop lying!" Betsey exclaims. "Admit it and repent!"

  The wives continue their denial.

  "How dare you disrespect the Great Master's representative here on earth!" snaps Betsey.

  "HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME!" the Mister snarls as he grabs the discipline stick from the top of his desk.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  I redirect my eyes to the side because the violence I'm seeing against three of his wives is tearing every fiber in me. These are the times I feel like a coward--like I should do something. But if I do, I'll only infuriate the Mister more than he already is and make the situation worse.

  This beating goes on for eternal moments. When it finally stops, I calm myself by counting to ten. The Mister's breathing is hard as the three victims sob and rub their wounds. Betsey smirks with a satisfied smile.

  I glare furiously at her, my sight accusing and disgusted. She abruptly shifts her sight away from me. Deep inside, I'm convinced she knows of the evil she just perpetrated. She knows her actions are wrong. She may ignore the truth so that she may embrace the only power given to the wives, grabbing it with both claws, but she knows. On the surface of her mind she may tell herself she's doing the right thing by the Great Master, excusing her evil. She may even think to be 100 percent positive about the correctness of her behavior.

  But inside of the part that makes us human and connects us to one another--she knows. That's why she shifted her eyes away from the truth my face was reproaching her.

  "Is there anything else we have to cover?" the Mister asks, he looks exhausted from clubbing his wives.

  Betsey nods, avoiding my eyes. "I've got a long list of transgressions."

  "Name them," the Mister commands.

  "Lauren, you left your bedroom door open since last week when doors in this house should always be closed. Bernice, you eat with your mouth open sometimes. Agatha, you breathe too loud. Stacy, you speak too loud."

  Is she kidding with this stuff? And why is the Mister allowing her to waste his time with this TOTAL GARBAGE?

  "Don't do those things," the Mister mutters. It seems he doesn't think their transgressions are that bad, or he would've beaten them again.

  Betsey strides around the wives. "I would also like to call your attention to the fact that you neglect to thank Master Barstowe after each meal."

  "But he isn't here at every meal," Stacy bravely mentions.

  "You should still thank him," she snaps.

  "Thank him when he gets back?" asks Agatha.

  "What a stupid question!" retorts Betsey. "Of course, thank him when he gets back, but also thank him right after the meal."

  "How do we do that if he isn't here?" asks Bernice.

  "Do I have to do all the thinking around here?" Betsey asks furiously. "Even when Master Barstowe is physically gone, the Great Master has permitted part of his spirit to still be with us, so he can take care of things even when he's away. Thank his spirit!"

  The Mister looks pleased with her reasoning. "Why do I have to be here in the flesh for you to be thankful to me?"

  "Master Barstowe is a special ambassador to the Great Master," snaps Betsey. "What is so hard to understand about that?"

  I have to keep my eyes from rolling out of their sockets.