by Fiona Wilde
Chapter Seven
Naomi's bottom was still sore when she woke up. She hadn't been expecting that, but in a way she wasn't surprised, either. She'd never been spanked on her bare bottom - and never with a belt. The dull ache would remind her throughout the day to watch what she said and did.
She'd been grateful that her parents were out when she'd gotten home. She was in no mood to talk and had retreated to her room where she stayed listening to an ancient Walkman CD player. She didn't take it out in public anymore. Everyone had iPods now and the CD player made her feel like a dinosaur.
"Naomi!" Her mother's voice came through the door. "Naomi, you need to get up. Church!"
Church.
The word sent a chill through her. She'd forgotten to ask her father about his final decision regarding the public confession he expected her to make. Had she swayed him with her argument?
Naomi rose from the bed. She'd dress for church but if the Rev. Fred Kindle expected her to get up and list her sins to his flock he was in for a rude awakening. She put on the ankle-length tie-dyed dress and brushed her hair, still clean and glossy from the shower she'd taken the night before.
As she assessed herself in the mirror it occurred to Naomi that she looked younger than her years. In the casual dress she could pass for a teen with her large eyes, small build and smooth complexion. An innocent. Not.
"Naomi, hurry up!"
"Coming, Mom." She picked up a thin cardigan in case the sanctuary was as cold as she remembered - her father kept the AC cranked up in the summer - and walked out of the room. She could see her father standing by the side kitchen door, looking impatiently at his watch.
Naomi grabbed a biscuit from the counter to eat on the short walk to church. She wondered why she just couldn't skip Sunday school and just go to the service, but she knew better than to ask.
"Dad," she said as they walked. "I need to talk to you before we go in."
He wouldn't look at her. "I don't have time, Naomi."
"Just for a minute," she protested, but he kept walking. He was moving faster now. Naomi reached out and took his sleeve.
He was incredulous as she pulled him to a stop. She didn't care.
"I need to know now," she said firmly. "Are you going to make me give some kind of confession this morning?"
He looked down for a moment. "You put me in a difficult situation," he said. "I already told the head deacon."
"He's not God, dad," Naomi said. To the side she could see her mother watching. It looked as if she were holding her breath.
"I don't answer to him or to anyone else in this church," Naomi continued. "My sins are between me and God and that's where they are going to stay."
He looked at her, a challenge in his eyes. "And if I command you to confess?"
"Then I will tell the congregation what I just told you, and invite them to go up and list their sins. I spent the day with a lot of their kids yesterday. I overhear things. Mr. Rhinehardt is apparently drinking again. The Raybons are getting a divorce. A few of the kids were laughing about watching movies decent parents should not let their kids watch. If you're prepared to ask them to stand up and be accountable to me, then I'll be accountable to them."
Rev. Kindle's face reddened. "It's not the same thing..." he began.
"Isn't it?"
He stared at her a moment more and dropped his eyes. And Naomi knew she had won. She gave him an awkward squeeze around his stiff shoulders, the closest thing to a hug her stoic father would accept.
"I know it's hard, Dad," she said. "I know I embarrassed you. I can't change the past. All I can do is look to the future and be a better person. I promise you I'll do that."
"Will you promise God?" he asked.
"I promise I'll try to be as good as I can. Isn't that all any of us can do?"
Was that a tear in his eye? He looked away before she could tell.
"Yes," he sighed. "It is."
He turned then, grumbling about being late and led his family into the side door. Eric's office was to the right near the end of the hallway. The Sunday school classrooms lined the hallway to the left.
"You're in young adult singles," her father said. "It's on the end. Eric leads your class."
That made her feel better. A familiar face; she'd feared she'd be stuck in a class with a bunch of young, uptight church-ladies in the making. Ugh.
She recognized his broad back when she entered. Eric was sitting in a chair near the front, talking to a prim-looking blonde-haired woman in a flouncy polka dot dress. The front of the dress cut just low enough to offer the briefest glimpse of the well of breasts. Very pleasant breasts. Naomi cattily wondered if they were real.
"Hi," she said as she approached. Eric turned, smiled and picked up the Bible and study guide in the chair next to him.
"Saved you a seat," he said.
"Thanks!" she returned the smile and then offered one to the blonde woman. She did not return it. Her face fell as soon as Naomi sat down. Eric didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he did and just chose not to acknowledge it.
"Mandy Harper, this is Naomi Kindle, Rev. and Mrs. Kindle's daughter."
Naomi extended my hand. Marcy didn't take it. Instead she looked at Naomi as if she were holding out a snake.
"Hello," she said. "I heard you were coming back from......California I think it was?"
"Yes," Naomi nodded. "California." She put her hand down after it became apparent that Marcy wasn't going to shake it.
"Hmmm. So I heard." Marcy turned back to Eric. "So as I was saying before we were interrupted, I've decided to go back to school for my Masters in Home Economics. I'm thinking of asking Reverend Kindle if I could start a homemakers club. I just feel led to do this, you know? To impart to young women the importance of being good wives and mothers. Good examples. So many women turn their back on values these days and mark themselves up, body and soul."
She glanced at Naomi over his shoulder, to make sure Naomi caught her insult. She had.
Naomi glanced over at Eric. He was wearing a poker face. She felt a little stung by his neutrality and although she had a hundred little retorts ready to fly, after the previous' day's experience she was eager to prove that she could rise above such barbs.
"That's very interesting, Marcy." He stood and she stood with him.
"I'd like to discuss it with both you and him at some point." She glanced down at Naomi. "Privately."
"Like I actually care," Naomi thought.
"Maybe we'll talk about it later if I can find the time," he said with a noncommittal smile.
Marcy looked disappointed. Naomi tried not to look pleased.
Marcy stood and walked across the room to take a seat with the group of women on the other side. She immediately began talking in hushed tones and by the way she and the others glanced up at Naomi there was no doubt as to the topic of conversation.
Naomi turned back to Eric but found his seat empty. Without a word he had risen and gone to the podium where he was calling the young single adult class to order.
"Can I have your attention?" he asked.
Naomi scowled down at the study guide he'd left in her seat. Why should she give it to him when she didn't seem to have his? That obnoxious Marcy had treated her like a pariah, and the man who'd just kissed her the night before had pretended not to notice.
But it was still early, and Naomi told herself she was just being silly. There was plenty of time for him to show her some affection. She hoped Mandy was watching when he did. It would do her good to see that over-made face fall again.
Eric called the class to order. As he did, Naomi looked around and noticed that not only was the class populated by more men than women, but also that Mandy was not the only single woman who had designs on Rev. Eric Feagans. Several others were smiling coyly in his direction or glancing up at him from under fluttering eyelashes.
Eric plowed through the class, starting with announcements before heading into the prayer and the lesson. On this d
ay the topic was Godly Dating: Selecting a Mate.
"What is the criteria for a good mate?" he asked, after going through the lesson in the study guide. "What should we look for, according to scripture?"
Mandy raised her hand. "Chastity, purity.." She looked at me. "A reputation your spouse can be proud of."
"Good points," Eric said without taking the bait. By now I knew he had to be wise to what she was doing.
"A good leader," another woman named Sandy said. "That's essential in a husband. Someone with a position of authority in the church."
"Good, good," he said.
Everyone had offered up a suggestion except for Naomi. Eric turned to her now.
"What about you, Naomi. What do you consider good traits for a partner?"
Naomi wanted to sink through the floor. She really didn't want to answer, not with everyone looking at her. But she didn't want Eric to be disappointed in her, either.
"Kindness," she said. "Understanding."
He smiled at her. "Yes, those are good qualities."
"So," asked Mandy then. "When are you going to settle down, Rev. Feagans? Don't you feel God's call to find a good Christian woman?"
"As a matter of fact I do," he said and Naomi's heart quickened. He was going to say something about her! He was going to let everyone know they were a couple, and that he was not ashamed.
"At some point God will lead me to the right woman," he said. "It's certainly not something you want to rush."
Naomi's heart fell. He's held her, kissed her, even taken the leadership role in her life. And now he sat there and spoke of relationships as a hypothetical. Her cheeks reddened and she looked down, shifting on the still sore bum he'd given her by his own hand.
"That's all the time we have for today." He flashed a smile at the class and Naomi cynically wondered if it were for the women. Did Eric like the attention he got? Was that why he failed to acknowledge their budding relationship?
She wasn't sure if she should linger and wait for Eric or not as he stopped to talk to one of the men who'd sat in the back of the class. After spending a moment pretending to organize her purse, Naomi walked out. Some of the teens from the outings were in the hall and she smiled as they surrounded her. They made her feel more comfortable than the sanctimonious adults, and she hoped the free-spirited youth of the church would not turn into their parents.
The sanctuary was cold. Naomi chose a seat in the middle since she didn't want to sit up front and knew that sitting in the back would just make people talk more. She watched as the pews around her filled up.
Some of the people she recognized. They nodded coolly in her direction and she knew it was because they disapproved of how she'd left her parents to worry. She couldn't be angry at them for that. Many of the older members had stuck with her parents through thick and thin and surely knew how upset they were when she'd taken off. Maybe she deserved their judgment. But the people who'd never met her? That was different.
Eric finally came into the sanctuary. Naomi wondered if he'd sit with her and was relieved when he finally did. He didn't put his arm around her or show any other display of affection. In fact, his body language was almost formal.
Naomi could feel the eyes of the women on them and this aloofness form Eric bothered her. But she sought to hide it, not wanting to appear desperate. She knew it was wrong to want a public affirmation of affection from him just to show up the other women. What was wrong with her? She'd never been like that before.
"Did you talk to your dad?" He asked the question without looking at her and again Naomi felt a sting of hurt. Did he not want other people to know he was talking to her?
"Yes," she said. "I'm not doing any public confession."
He nodded and said nothing.
Naomi stared at her shoes. Finally she could stand it no more.
"Eric, are you ashamed of me?"
"Of course not." His tone sounded offended, but still he didn't look at her.
"Are you sure? You're acting odd. So....formal."
"We're in church," he said. "I can't hug all over you here."
She felt herself grow angry. "I'm not asking you to hug all over me," she said. "But I don't expect you to act like I'm no different to you than any of these other women."
The organist had begun to play. Her father would be taking the pulpit soon.
"We'll talk later," he said.
"In your office?" she asked. "Where it's safe to hold me and kiss me in secret?"
A lump was rising in Naomi's throat. She blinked and looked away.
"Naomi," he began but she just shook her head.
She felt relieved when her father came out. The first part of the service passed in a blur. The opening hymn, announcements, prayer requests. Then the sermon began. The topic as the prodigal son.
Again Naomi could feel eyes on her as her father's voice rose in emotion. And she felt another sting of betrayal as he drew transparent parallels between her - without mentioning her by name - and the Biblical character who turned his back on his family before crawling back for forgiveness.
"Only a parent can understand the pain," he said. "And only a parent can forgive. Not every child has the strength to ask for forgiveness he or she needs. All we can do is pray that in time they will see the wisdom in fully acknowledging their sins."
Naomi couldn't help it. She cut her eyes to the side and saw Marcy staring right at her, an self-righteous smirk on her face.
"I'm out of here," she said.
"No." His hand clamped over hers. "You're staying."
"The hell I am."
"Naomi..." His voice held the threat of correction. She settled back in her seat, reluctantly. She was fuming now. Her father's voice was almost apologetic as he sent the unspoken message to his congregation. "I tried to get her to confess," it said. "But she's too sinful." And beside her there was Eric, his hands in his lap again, as he'd only taken hers long enough to make sure she stayed in her seat.
Her father was giving the altar call. She felt eyes on her again, boring into her back. Even Eric was staring at her.
She looked at him and her eyes were filled with tears.
"Do you feel the call?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"I think I do," she said, nodding. Her voice fell to a whisper. "This has all been an act, hasn't it. You've just been getting close to me to keep me in line for my father. You're just like him. You'd like nothing more than for me to go up there and fall on my knees, even if I don't feel it."
She shook her head. "You people are all the same, you know that?"
She stood now before he could stop her and pushed from the pew. Her father's face was hopeful and for a brief moment she felt a sting of pity. He'd not been able to extract the confession certain members of his congregation wanted. Getting her to the altar was the next best thing, the consolation prize. And he thought she had her. But instead of going to the front she turned and walked down the aisle and out past the puzzled or smirking faces of the other church members.
"Just as I am..." The words of the song that drew guilty Christians to the altar chased her in the opposite direction now.
"Naomi!"
She did not turn at the sound of her name.
"Naomi!"
"Stay away from me!" She didn't look back as she picked up her pace.
"Naomi!" His voice was closer. She began to run.
"Naomi!" He was on her now and she felt herself pulled back as he called her name. She jerked free violently, her face as mask of emotional pain.
"Don't fuck with me, Eric," she said. "If I'm not worthy of your acknowledgement in the church I don't want it when we're alone."
"It's not that!" he said. "It's just..."
"Just what? Embarrassing?"
"No!" His voice carried an edge of frustration she'd never heard in it before. "It's...delicate."
"Delicate?" She shook her head in disbelief.
"I've only just admitted to you and to myself how I feel," he said. "And
we've not known each other very long. I haven't even told your parents!"
"You've told me," she said. "Doesn't that count?"
"That's not it," he said. "I kind of thought after today, if you went to the altar. I thought that would make it easier."
"For me or for you?" she shot back.
He looked down. "For me," he admitted. "I won't lie. No one knows what happened with you in L.A. I mean, I know, but they don't. And the rumors are worse than the reality."
Now she did feel guilty. He was wrong about that. But she wasn't about to tell him the truth now. She was too angry, and felt betrayed. He didn't deserve the truth.
"That's why I say you're all alike," she said with disgust. "You and Dad both want me to go to the altar to make things easier for you politically. It doesn't matter if I repent so long as everyone watching thinks I have."
Eric look liked he'd been punched and Naomi knew right away that her words had resonated. Finally.
"I'm sorry," he said and then held out his hands to her. "Naomi, I love you."
"Yeah? Well if you mean that you'd have shown me in there and now out here in empty churchyard where it feels safe. You saw how Marcy treated me. You saw what my father tried to do. And you let it happen."
Tears rolled down her face now as she sought to try and tame the catch in her throat.
"You know what really sucks, Eric?" she continued. "I really believed in you. For the first time in my life I thought I had somebody I could trust, someone I could truly follow. I've needed that, you know. I've needed a light to walk towards. You were that light."
"Naomi..."
"No!" she said. "Don't even. You were that light. But it was just an illusion."
This time when she turned and ran it was so swift he could not catch her before she was in the parsonage with the door locked behind her.
She went down the hall to her room, where she stripped herself of the dress with shaking hands and replaced it with faded blue jeans and a sleeveless top that showed her tattoos and hugged her thin frame.
