“You love me too, Dumani. You’ve loved me for a very long time. You don’t have to say it. I can tell from the way you follow me with your eyes when you think I'm not looking. You are always looking for me.”
“Does it make you feel uncomfortable? I’ll stop.”
“A woman is not supposed to look at men. Luckily for you, I am not going back to the church. I am done with all of that. I’m not telling your father because he will forbid our marriage if he finds out. We will get them to Texas and make our own way home.”
“What about Hannah?”
“Commoners have one wife and they seem to do okay. I don’t want to be like my father.”
“We are going to hell.” I whisper when his lips touch my ear.
“If it is the only way we can be together, I welcome it.”
“Blasphemy.” I whisper.
“I am starting to doubt everything they told us. Beating women and marrying cousins and shit. It isn't right. I won't raise our children like that. We’ll live in my house. It’s a safe place to start over. Just you and me.”
“Is that what you want, Judea?”
He nods his head stroking my face on my good side.
“It’s what I’ve always wanted.”
I lean into his touch. I close my eyes against the feelings taking over me. Sinful feelings. His finger touches the puckered cut on my cheek.
“I will never let you sacrifice yourself for me or anyone else ever again.”
“I should’ve been paying attention. I should have seen the blade. It was my own fault. I let a commoner get the jump on me.”
“No. I let you put yourself in danger. I am supposed to look after my woman.”
“There is nothing to be done about it now. Let's just move on from here. I am lucky he didn't kill me.”
He takes my hands in his. We hold hands the way men and women do at the marriage alter. That’s the first time a man is supposed to touch his wife. We are breaking all the rules. I can't look away from him. The shiny black hair. Those sinfully dark eyes. He can't look away either.
“Dumani, I am going to kiss you. If you will allow me to.”
“You may.” I give him my permission.
Jude Hamilton puts his arms around my waist pulling my body close to his. My heart stutters. My head spins. I get an ache in a place that I shouldn't mention. He hasn't even kissed me yet and I am going to faint with pleasure.
“Tilt your head back.”
I tilt my head back. His face gets closer and closer to mine and I wonder if I’m dreaming. His lips press against my lips and he kisses me softly. Just a little peck at first. Until I drape my arms around his neck. Jude's hold on me tightens. His kiss deepens. He is mindful of the cut in the corner of my mouth. I press closer holding him tighter. I am surely going to hell. It will be worth it. I feel him harden against my belly before he breaks away breathing hard and looking at me with hungry eyes. I am shaken and confused. What’s wrong with feeling these feelings for a man who will be your husband? I look down at the thick ridge straining against his worn denim jeans. I wonder what it would be like to lay down with him?
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. It was wonderful. This is not the time or the place for us to take it farther than a kiss. If I'd kissed you any longer, I would have laid you on that bed and taken it all the way. You are naive and you would let me.”
“Don’t you want to?”
“Of course, I want to. Do you see what you do to me? I am as hard as a rock.” He says holding himself in his hand.
“Is that a bad thing?”
“See, you are naive as hell. It’s a damn good thing. It will be even better when we are married.”
I smile. I don't think that it can get better than that, but I hope so. I am so happy that I don't care about my face anymore. Jude wants me. He hugs me close and kisses me softly. Then, he lets me go and leaves the room. I don't see him again until we are riding out. Father tied a clean bandana around my face to keep my wound clean of dirt and dust. He is being very nice to me. I notice he doesn’t call me girl as much. He’s treating me the way he used to treat my frail sisters. Out of the corner of my eye I see Jude riding on my other side looking straight ahead. I think about his kiss and it makes me feel brand-new. We ride in silence and we ride hard.
Chapter Five
Father stops only to change horses and water them. We are riding along an old mining trail when we hear someone screaming. A woman is calling for help.
“Keep riding.” Father's voice is low and sharp.
“Shadrach, it’s a woman. What if she’s being accosted by more bandits? We can't leave her to that fate. We should at least put her out of her misery.” Buck says removing his hat.
“We keep going. Strangers are not our problem. We aren’t super heroes.” Jude tells him.
“We are men of God. It’s our duty to help her. Are we no better than bandits now?”
“Joe, this no time for you to play Deacon. We are men on a mission to get our women and take them home. If we stop to help every person we hear screaming or dying, we could be next. We made it this far by being smart and sticking to our plan.”
“Titus, I thought you would have a better heart than Hamilton. What if it was your sister?”
“It isn't my sister. Don't bring her into this.” Titus warns him.
“Fine, I’ll go. Give me an extra gun.”
“Hell no. We aren't wasting our ammo on strangers. We have another thousand miles between here and our destination and another two thousand three hundred to get back home. I will pray for forgiveness when I am back in my own church.” Father says angrily.
The woman screams again, louder this time, begging for help from somebody. Anybody.
“Damn it!” Father swears turning his horse toward the sound. We fall in line behind him.
“You stay back.” Jude warns riding ahead of me. I fall back. I am glad that I do.
“The sons of bitches are raping her.” Titus says observing the scene below.
The small farm is neat and well-tended, aside from the bodies lying in the front yard. I see a man, a naked woman, and two small children bleeding from unknown fatal wounds. Another naked young woman is tied to the fence bent over at the waist. There are three men laughing and passing around a bottle. They have their pants down and guns on the ground.
“Don't watch this, Duma. Wait over there.” Jude points to the stand of pine trees behind us. He is already acting like a husband. I like that a lot. I walk my horse away. A few minutes later they call me back over.
“Duma, you are the best shot. Kill them.” Jude instructs handing me his good rifle.
They don't have to say anymore. I take the rifle, aim and fire off three quick shots dropping the men almost at once. I hand Jude his gun and walk away. The men who don’t know me are speechless. The scared girl screams again in horror. She is afraid until the men go down to help her.
“Thank you! Thank you so much! Bless you! Please untie me!”
My brother and Jude ride down first. Titus cuts her down and Jude wraps her in his blanket. The woman is white. She could be hurt. I don’t ask. Her long brown hair is in the dirt where the men dropped it after they cut it off. They damn near scalped her. She falls into Jude’s arms sobbing with grief. Turns out the dead people are her family. Her mother, father, sister and brother. The men I killed are friends of hers from college. They ran to her parent’s home to get away from the sickness. The boys decided they wanted the place for themselves and she would be their toy. If the mother hadn’t put up a fight she would still be alive.
My brother and Jude help bury the bodies. Father decides we will stay the night. It's safe enough. Jude and Buck scout the area just in case. They return an hour later confident that we are alone for now. I watched him go and I watched for his return. I worry about him. Anything can go wrong. He comes into the house and searches me out with his eyes. I don't dare look at him. I don't have to. I can feel his eyes
on me like warm rain. I am serving the stew that I cooked up in the strange kitchen. The young woman is sitting with the men at a long redwood table. This is a very nice house. The kind of house that I would love to share with Jude one day. This is good land. We passed plenty of fresh water sources that were stocked with fish. This is a place where one could make a life for himself, but it isn't home. Home has artesian wells with windmill pumps. We have tall defenses and mean dogs. There is no place like home.
This woman can sit and speak with the men because she is an outsider. She isn't expected to know or follow our rules. I serve quietly, head down, like a good woman is supposed to. I am about to retreat into the kitchen when I hear her speak to me.
“What happened to your face?” She asks with a hint of disgust in her voice. My face warms in embarrassment. I don't answer her. Of course, I don't answer her. It would cost me twenty licks with a cane. I go back into the kitchen and drop the tray of dishes into the sink breathing hard and holding back tears. I touch the rough sutures. Father used dental floss. It’s the thinnest string we brought. It has many uses and it’s sterile. I should cover my face from now on. I can hear their conversation in the next room.
“What did I say? It was rude of her to walk away from me like that when I was speaking to her. Isn't she going to eat?”
“She’s not allowed to speak in the presence of men, nor is she allowed to sit in the company of men who aren’t her family or husband.” Jude explains to her.
“Why? Is she your slave?”
“Dumani is not a slave. She is a Godly woman. Our women are held to a standard that you wouldn't understand. Our women are chaste and obedient.” Jude sounds a little pissed off.
“It sounds like slavery to me.” She says laughing. “Anyway, what happened to her face?”
I hate her already. I know that it’s ungodly and a sin but still I do. It’s rude to bring attention to someone’s affliction. I shouldn't expect more from an outsider.
“My daughter was cut fighting off an attacker. He cut her face and she cut his throat.”
“She is very brave.” Jude adds proudly
“Yes, well, it's a shame about her face. It is a horrible scar.”
“That scar is a testimony of her courage. She walked away scarred but still marriageable, unlike you.” Jude is being nasty. I love him so much right now.
“Are you saying I am not marriageable?”
“Yes.” Jude says with distaste.
“That’s dumb and old fashioned.”
“There is nothing dumb about getting married to a good woman and starting a family. It’s an honor.” Jude is offended.
“You aren't married yet are you, Jude?” She asks sweetly.
“I’ll be married before the year is out.”
“Why do you want to get married? These are the years when we should be having fun and living life. You should be going to parties and hanging out on the beach, not getting married and going to church every day.”
“Being a man and taking care of my responsibilities is fun to me. I am not a child. Parties and sand castles are for children. That is one of the many things that separates us from your kind.”
“Oh.” She is impressed with his maturity and masculinity. So am I.
“He is marrying into my family.”
“Do his parents support this?”
“Jude will have five or six wives. It’s our way. I had four but two died from the sickness.”
“Are you Mormon's?” She sounds more fascinated than disgusted.
“No, we are Saints. We are a private society of people with churches all around the country.”
“Your son looks mixed and that girl is black. Jude is going to marry her with that scar on her face?”
“Duma is a good woman. I don't give a damn about a scar and I damn sure don't care about her being black.”
“You don't seem like the type that dates black women.” She says it like it is a dirty word.
“We are not dating. We don’t date.”
“Well you don't seem like the type to do anything with a black woman.” She sniffs with distaste.
“My mother was a black woman.” Judea says stiffly. She offended him again.
“I never would have guessed it.”
“I’m not white. You aren’t white either.”
“I am not black. I’m mixed.”
“Mixed with bull and shit. I know one of my own when I see them, liar.”
“Leave her alone Jude, she’s not our kind. You can't expect her to be like our women. Duma! Bring us more coffee.”
I jump. He scared me. I take the pot off the gas stove and carry it into the dining room. I refill coffee cups and stack the empty plates.
“Did you eat girl?”
“Yes, Father.” I lie.
“Make sure you do. You are starting to look skinny.”
“Yes, Father.” I say leaving the coffee and carrying away the dirty dishes.
“Is she always like this? Looking down at the floor and acting like a servant?”
“When she is in the company of strange men, she doesn't show her eyes. It’s our way. You eye fucked every man at this table.” Titus says helping himself to another cup of coffee.
“I don't know how she does it. It couldn't be me.”
“You are right. It couldn't be you.” Jude laughs at her.
“Who wants to be a slave to her husband? Waiting on him and his friends hand and foot and staring at the floor all day? Not me.”
“Girl, none of us would want you in our homes or around our women and children. You are corrupted and worldly. You are already used.” Buck says dropping his spoon into his bowl.
“You aren't fit to wash Duma's boots.” Joe says belching loudly. He pushes his chair back and stands up.
“We have a long day ahead of us, I’m going to get some sleep.”
“I counted five bedroom’s total. Duma gets the big room in the attic. You all divvy up the rest.” Father tells them.
“My bedroom is down here on the ground floor. I’ll sleep easy knowing you all are here. I feel safe.” She says.
“What's your name anyway? We never asked.” Titus is curious.
“My name is Rena.”
“Where were you when the sickness started?”
“I was at college when everyone started getting sick. They told us to stay in our dorms until they could tell who was infected or not. I got in my car with Nick and his friends and drove home. We kept to the backroads. They were always whispering and conspiring behind my back. Today, they killed my dad first, then my sister and brother. My poor mom. They did terrible things to her and me. They fooled around with each other too. I had no idea that he was like that.”
“The filthy bastards. The devil is alive and thriving girl. You are lucky we came along.” Father rises from the table next and Jude with him. He leaves the room. Jude doesn't go immediately.
“You are leaving already?” She asks him.
“I’m going to sit with Duma. Afterward, I am walking her up to bed. It’s one of the boring duties that I happen to enjoy.” He shows her his back.
“Jude will never be interested in you. Don't bother trying. He’s pretty fucking mean.”
“You have a dirty mouth for a church boy.” Rena says smiling.
“I wouldn't speak this way around our women. You are no good.”
“Look at her face, neither is she.”
“Duma is twenty-three years old and she has never been with a man. My sister is innocent. What happened to her face is not her fault and you will stop bringing it up or I will give you a scar to match. As a woman, you should pity her and be encouraging. Not throw it in her face.”
“Twenty-three? That's it? She acts forty.”
“She behaves the way she’s supposed to.” Titus says pushing his own chair back.
“Hey! Why are you leaving? Stay and talk to me.”
“I'd rather not. I am going into the kitchen where the company is bet
ter. Don't follow me. They won't like it.”
“This is my house. I can go where I want.”
Jude is sitting at the kitchen counter on a stool watching me struggle with the dishwasher. We wash dishes by hand at home. This contraption is a waste of space.
“I can wash these in the sink, it will be easier.”
“There are two sinks full of dishes here. Why go through all of the trouble when there is a perfectly a good dishwasher available?”
“Because I don't know what I am doing. I've never even seen a dishwasher before.”
He stands up onto his long legs and pushes up his sleeves. I’m horrified. He wouldn't.
“Move out of the way.” He says brushing me aside.
“Judea.” I warn nervously. “Move away that from sink. What are you doing?”
What if someone sees him? He smiles and pushes me down onto the stool he vacated.
“Jude, you can't do this. Men do not do women's work!”
“Be quiet before someone hears you and catches me doing it. I am loading a damn dishwasher not giving birth. When we are married, I plan on helping you with everything. You will not work yourself into an early grave like other wives. I won't have a spare so I’ll have to take special care of the that I have.” He says flashing me a boyish smile. His teeth are much nicer than other men in our church. I giggle. It is forbidden to laugh at sinful things. What he is doing is a sin of biblical proportions. It is probably worse than me kissing him that day. I watch as he efficiently stacks the dishes neatly onto different shelves of the dishwasher.
“How do you know how to do this?” I ask him curiously resting my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands. He looks up at me again.
“Because we have two of them at home and I have seen it done a hundred times. I forget your family still lives like pilgrims.”
“We live the way the bible says we should. Without worldly things and sinful influences.”
“Like it's still 1650?”
“We have electricity.” I point out.
“You still use candles and oil lamps.”
“Father doesn't believe in waste.”
“You make your own electricity but never use it. That is the waste, Dumani. You still use an outhouse.”
The Doomsday Papers Page 5
