“Father says if it was good enough for him growing up then it is good enough for us.”
“What do you say?”
“What do you mean?”
“You repeat things your father says, and the bible says, what do you think?”
His question is unsettling. What do I think? I don't know. I have no say in such things.
“It doesn't matter what I think, Judea Hamilton. Women do not worry about things like that.”
“You aren't tired of bathing in a bucket of cold water and treading through three feet of snow in the winter time to take a shit?”
I blush. He is mean and crude.
“I am used to it.”
“You need new clothes.” He says it out of the blue. I look down at my baggy old dress.
“This is fine.” I wrap my arms around the dingy cotton like they will hide it from his sight.
“You’ve changed, Dumani. You don't look like the same person. You’re so beautiful.”
My hand automatically goes to my marred cheek and my eyes to the shiny wood floor. I am embarrassed from head to toe. Not because he finally acknowledged that I was fat, because he called me beautiful. Me. Duma Dare.
“That scar doesn't make you any less beautiful. It gives you character. How did a beautiful woman like you come by a scar like this? People will want to hear your story. They will be impressed and fascinated when they do.”
“I don’t want character.”
“It doesn't bother me, why does it bother you? I’m the one that you are going to spend your life with.”
The kitchen door pushes open and my brother strolls in. He stops in his tracks when he sees Jude loading the dishes. His eyes widen and a big smile splits his handsome face.
“What is this? Jude Hamilton is doing women's work?” Titus laughs.
“Duma isn't feeling well. Her face is hurting her this evening.” Jude lies without blinking. “I’m just helping her out.”
My brother’s demeanor changes. He is beside me in an instant feeling my forehead like a concerned mother.
“Are you okay, sister? You’ve been doing too much. The old man works you too hard. I told him so. You don't feel warm. Sit here and rest. I’m going to make you a bowl of soup and get you a cool drink. Me and Jude will get this cleaned up so you can go to bed.” Titus says softly. I couldn't be more shocked. Or pleased. It feels good being taken care of this way. I sit and eat my food watching them work together to clean the kitchen. The next person to walk into the kitchen is that girl. She’s wearing a nightgown that is not at all appropriate to walk around the house in. I am embarrassed again. Titus notices her first. He grins. Jude frowns.
“Go and put your clothes back on. Duma isn't used to being around whores.”
“How can you call me a whore? You don't even know me.”
“I know that you were raped today but had no problem sitting at a table with five grown men this evening. You have no problem walking around half naked in front of two strangers. A raped woman who lost her entire family would be locked in her room crying or hiding or some shit. Not advertising her... goods so soon after.”
“What kind of church man speaks to women this way? You are nothing but a hypocrite!”
“Coming from you, I will take that as a compliment. Come along Duma, I don't want you around women like this. Titus, since she is obviously not suffering any, she can finish cleaning her own kitchen if she even knows how. From my experience, girls like her aren't good for much of anything besides what she is dressed for.”
“You, arrogant mutt.”
“Shameless whore.” Jude says as we walk out of the room.
Chapter Six
“You were awfully mean to her Judea, maybe she’s in shock.”
“Is that why she’s trying to fuck me?”
“She is?” This is news to me. I haven't been around many commoners, not even their women. I didn't know what she was doing. I can't read body language that I am not familiar with. From what I saw in town and on the internet, most of them don't wear much clothing day or night.
“Are you going to let her?”
I am too upset to care how inappropriate the question is. I don't want him to sleep with her. If he does, there isn't much that I can do about it except cry. If he ends up with more than one wife it is something that I’ll have to live with anyway. Jude doesn't say anything. He just leads me up the stairs to the bedroom Father chose for me. It is spacious and looks as nice as the rest of the home. I look around in awe. This is where I am going to sleep? I look at the big, pretty bed covered in a big silver spread that matches the fifteen pillows propped against the headboard. The furniture is dark gray with black trim.
This is like the homes I saw in the movies we watched on Jude's internet. It's so fancy.
“Do you like it?”
“What if I mess something up?”
“You won't mess anything up. It’s a house. Houses are meant to be lived in. Would you want to live in a house like this?”
“I don't know, everything is so fancy.”
“Come on, I bet there is a master bath in there.”
I follow him across the room through another door. He flips the light switch. It is a big, sparkly bathroom. It smells like dried flowers and perfumed soap. Jude walks over to the black bathtub and turns on the water. He tests the temperature with his hands and adjusts the knobs accordingly. I watch him pick up a bottle of pink liquid and sniff the contents. He squeezes some into the water and it erupts into bubbles. I watch in amazement as they spread and grow. The water smells wonderful. Jude stands up and approaches me.
“Turn the knobs all of the way to the right when the water gets this high.” He shows me how deep with his hands. “It will turn right off. When you are finished, push this lever and the water will drain out. There are towels right there. I’ll see about finding you some clothes that fit tomorrow. I’ll lay something on the bed for you to sleep in. I’m on first watch tonight so I won’t see you again until morning.”
I nod my head. He didn't have to do this for me. I sniffle. When he looks down at the water his hair falls into his eyes. He has the blackest hair you will ever see. Blacker than black. Blue black. It’s startling against his pale skin. Jude isn't big and buff like the other church boys. He’s strong but wiry. He’s not skinny by any means. His jeans hang on his narrow hips. His t-shirts fit close but not tight. He’s effortlessly handsome.
“What's wrong Dumani?”
“I’m happy you’re here.”
Judea’s eyes soften when he reaches out for me. My body tenses in anticipation. It relaxes when I’m in his arms. He strokes my pulled back hair.
“I wasn't letting you go anywhere without me. I will get you home safely, no matter what. We will make it together.” He vows.
“Kiss me, Judea.” I whisper. What am I saying? “I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it aloud. Don't be angry with—”
His lips cut me off. This is not like the first kiss. This is deeper, harder, and better than before. He pulls me against his hard body and my breasts smash between us. It feels so good that I don't want it to stop. I get an ache low in my belly that spreads between my legs. I don't know what has come over me. My lips part and he does the damnedest thing. Jude pushes his tongue into my mouth. I have never had anyone's anything inside of my anything before. This is lust. Anything that feels this good must be a sin. My hand reaches up behind his head. He takes my other arm and wraps it around his neck. I hold him the way he is holding me. I kiss him the way he’s kissing me. His tongue strokes and teases my own. Jude makes a sound in his throat that makes the ache hurt even more. I rub my pelvis against him to ease the longing building up inside of me. His knee slides upward parting my legs until it is rubbing against the place that I should not mention. I make a noise that I have never made before. I rub myself against him. My body knows what to do even if I don't. I need more. I want more. I reach down and cup the hardness that is rubbing against me. Jude doesn't stop m
e. He moves against my hand.
I could be cast out of my family or even killed for going this far. I want to go even farther. I want to go as far as we can go. His hands slide down over my body to squeeze my bottom. I moan again. I can feel a pressure building and building as his knee rubs against the wet crease between my legs. My body spasms and I cry his name in confusion. What's happening to me? His body stiffens and his hips jerk. A wet spot grows under my hand. I am not so naive that I don't know he spilled his seed. We cling together as we are overcome with emotions. We enjoy this new experience ignoring the forbidden line that we crossed and cannot return from. Jude kisses me again. I am so caught up in him that I don’t feel the warm water under my bare feet until he points it out.
“Shit.” He says letting me go and shutting off the bathtub. It’s overflowing. Like the love I feel for him. He lets out a few inches of water before dropping several towels onto the floor to mop up the puddle. I can't help him. I am in a trance. I wonder what it will be like when he takes me into his bed. I snap out of it and I bend down and start mopping up water with a gray towel. Our eyes meet and he smiles at me. I smile. Jude starts laughing. We flooded the bathroom. After we get the floor dried up, he dumps the towels into a hamper.
“Stay.” I say as I walk him out of the bedroom. He stops and takes my face in his hands. He gives me the sweetest kiss ever.
“I can't.”
I watch him retreat down the stairs with a sad heart. I miss him already. I go back into the bedroom leaving the door unlocked in case he returns later. I didn't know what heavenly was until Jude kissed me. I didn't believe in miracles until he told me that he loved me. I didn't know what indulgent meant until I slide into the deep black bathtub filled to the brim with hot, fragrant water. I sigh in pleasure. This is nice. Nicer than I imagined it would be. I close my eyes and let the warm water relax my stiff muscles. I close my eyes and think about what happened between Jude and me. I smile to myself.
Judea Hamilton takes a long shower and pulls on his spare pants still wet. He tosses the pair with the cum stain into the family washer with the rest of his dirty clothes. It won't be long before the lights in this place go out too. Lights are going out all over the country right now. Some places sooner than others. He isn't thinking about the lights going out as he tucks his pistol into his holster. He doesn't give a shit about the lights going out. He picks up his shotgun and walks outside into the dark yard. The bloodstains in the grass look like motor oil in the dark. It was a Goddamn shame what those fucking perverts did to the woman. After they had their way with the woman, they used a hammer to bash their skulls in. The man they stabbed to death. Why did they spare the bitch? Why didn't she act like a woman whose family was slaughtered on the front lawn? Something about her wasn't right.
Jude strolls into the garage where they are keeping the horses. He doesn't bother with a saddle. He leads his father’s horse out into the dark yard. He rides for a mile in each direction checking for signs of people. Finding none, he rides back to the house. It’s a nice house. The father did well by his family. It’s a shame that he died the way he did. Jude enters the house quietly going into the big family room. He walks around looking at knick-knacks and other things the family collected over the years. He picks up a family photo and then another. These were happier times and from the number of children pictured compared to the ones dead in the yard, the family wasn't untouched by the plague. They lost three sons. He walks out onto the porch and sits in a rocker with his shotgun laying across the arms. The tip of the cigarette between his lip flares orange when he touches it with a lit match. He couldn’t stop thinking about what happened in the bathroom.
He is in love with Duma Dare. The quiet, chubby girl who used to stare at him and never told his father what they did when they were alone. She never told on him. Not even when she got in trouble for being out late. He and Titus were always humping on the town girls and drinking or fighting with the boys. Duma would wait in the shadows sweating in her long sleeved, high neck, ankle long, dresses without complaint. Meanwhile, he was coming inside of a condom stuck inside of some girl he didn’t even know. She knew he fucked those girls and she sometimes looked sad as they walked home but she never said a word.
He couldn't exactly say what attracted him to her when they were kids. It sure as hell wasn't her looks. She was fat all over and he was partial to smaller women. They didn’t have to be skinny but they couldn’t weigh more than he did. His girls have doll-like faces and light eyes. They wear short shorts and tanks with no bra. Some of them wore little gold rings on their painted toes and colorful plastic flip flops from the dollar store. Those were the kind of women he fucked. The woman that he went home and fantasized about is always covered from head to toe. The only skin she shows is on her hands and around her eyes. She never speaks up for herself or asks for anything. It bothers him. He wants her to talk to him. He wants her to yell at him when she’s angry and cry when she’s hurt. He wants her to tell him how he can make her life better. He wants to protect her. In the back of his mind he knows that being unpretty is a blessing. Pretty girls have problems that she couldn’t even dream of. Look at the way he treated pretty girls. If you are going to fuck a woman, why not go for a pretty one? When you buy a car do you go for the beater with the fender falling off? No. When you pick fruit, do you go for the pieces with bruises or worm holes? No. You want the best. Pretty girls are like birthday cake.
It’s the same way for women. They like fucking Jude because he’s pretty. He’s fun and exciting and will take you on one hell of a ride. But, when the ride is over you are getting dropped off. Who wants to eat birthday cake every day? Not him. You see how the cake thing worked out for Marie Antoinette. He wants a woman with a kind nature and knows how to cook. A woman who will work and fight right beside him every day because they wake with the same goal; loving each other and taking care of their family. Town girls are mostly useless. Like birthday cake. They can paint their nails but can they help paint the barn? He didn’t give a shit about a toe ring if she can’t keep a garden or foal a calf. She drives a Mustang. Can she drive a tractor? Can she operate the backhoe? Can she fix her pretty car if it breaks down? His woman can do anything. She is special and pure in every way. Pure of heart, pure of mind, and pure of body. He loved her for her loyalty and her eagerness to please him. She would make an exceptional wife.
Jude knew he was going to marry her when he was fifteen years old. She was already considered an adult. Other kids would ask him why she was always with them and if she was dim-witted. He punched those kids in the face. These past weeks he watched the weight fall off her. It didn’t worry him because he knew how self-conscious she was about it. Now that her facial features are visible, you can see her mother’s cute nose and high cheekbones. Her lips look fuller in her smaller face. Her lips were made for kissing. His thoughts go to the scar. That bastard cut her face. His stomach twists into knots every time he thinks about that day. The bitch was right. It’s a horrible scar. He also meant what he said, it doesn't matter. Tonight, he took things too far with her. If the bathtub hadn't overflowed, he would have laid her down on the bathroom floor and made her a woman, maybe even pregnant. He would have spread her legs, sank his dick into her body, and broke through the hymen that waited twenty-three years to be breached by him. Jude adjusts his half erection in his jeans. He is getting hard just thinking about it.
“Do you have another one of those?” The slut found him.
“Not for you. Go back inside.” He didn't even look at her.
“I don't want to go back inside it’s nicer out here.” She says stopping in front of him. She'd changed again into a tiny little crop top and the shortest shorts ever made. Half of her little ass is hanging from underneath them. She’s one of those nutzo girls who thrive off attention good or bad. Those girls were the worst. They stalk you and key your paint.
“If I give you a cigarette will you go away?”
“You don't really want me t
o go away, do you? I am not who you think I am, Jude. If you get to know me, you might like me. I can be lots of fun.”
“Like you were fun for those men today? No thank you.”
“They raped me! You heard me crying out!”
“I wonder, were you crying for help? Or, crying for more?”
Her surprised look makes him even more suspicious. Any decent woman would be outraged. Not surprised.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you are a liar and a whore. I saw ten family photos in there and you weren't in a single one of them. You didn't mourn the dead family because you don't know them. You are one of the killers, not a victim like we thought. You like being tied up and treated like a whore, don't you? I’ve fucked bitches like you before.”
“I never thought about hiding the pictures. I didn't kill anyone. I told them to leave the kids alone but they started crying. The guys didn't start off like that, they changed. Enough about them. Do you want to fuck me or not? I like you. I think you are hot. I can be one of your women.”
He grabs her hair yanking on it so hard that she squeals.
“Stay away from me and stay away from my woman or I will snap your fucking neck. Do you understand me?”
“Yes!”
“Now, get the fuck out of here.” He shoves her away so hard that she falls down the steps.
“What’s wrong with you? I can be one of your wives! I’ll change for you! I’ll do what you tell me to do.”
“I don't want you. I wouldn't let you clean up after my horse. I wouldn't fuck you in my worst nightmare. Don't even look at me again. If you don't leave me in peace, I’ll kill you quietly and toss you in one of those graves out back.”
Rena runs into the house and jumps into bed with Titus who doesn't turn her away. Jude is shaking after she runs off. Tomorrow they are leaving and she will be a bitch in the past. He’s lucky to have Duma. Some poor bastard is out there stuck with a bitch like the slut. Titus taps him on his shoulder a few hours later to change watch. Judea stands up and walks into the house. He climbs the stairs to his room and keeps going. Her door is unlocked when he lets himself in. He doesn’t like her leaving the door open and he’ll make it a point to tell her so. She is sleeping soundly in the big bed. Her thick hair is spread out on the pillow like a storm cloud. She has so much hair. He touches it fondly. You would never know she isn't perfect from this angle. Her smooth brown cheek looks golden in the dim light. Jude presses his lips to the soft, unmarred skin. Her eyelids flutter before they open. She doesn't say anything. She turns back the blanket in invitation. An invitation to everything. Jude doesn't say anything either. He gets into bed with her fully dressed and gathers her close. He kisses her until his heart is content and sleeps with her in his arms. She is not for dallying with. She is for marrying.
The Doomsday Papers Page 6
