The Doomsday Papers

by JanJan Untamed

  “They won’t realize what I’ve done until I don’t show up to meet the plane. We have three hundred miles on this fuel and we will ditch the bird and hike. Get some sleep. I doubt if you’ll get much before you are with your husband again, or after.” The traitor turns his attention back to flying.

  “How will we find him?”

  “I know where he is. He’s leaving messages for you on road signs. He wants you to go to the capitol. I can have you there in under a day.”

  I don’t tell the traitor that I’ve been shot. The bullet went through my arm. It missed my son by inches. I tie it off with a piece of my dress and bite my lip. I will be with Jude tomorrow or the next day and he will fix it for me. The bullet went clean though so there is nothing to dig out. I should tell the traitor any way, he is a doctor after all. I don’t want him touching me again. It’s a flesh wound. It won’t kill me. I look over at Bella. She seems hopeful as she looks out into the night. The doors slide closed on either side of us and I want to be hopeful too. I want to believe this will all go to plan and I am going home. It’s been so long. I was buried in the ground for seven months. The landscape is black like Judea’s eyes. There was a time when warm homes dotted the horizon like pan lights. Now, the homes are black and empty and will remain that way forever.

  I sit back and think about something else. I think about seeing him again. Will he be happy to see me? Please be happy to see me. Don’t let me be too late. I sit praying and hoping for something that I want more than anything. I transfer my son to my other breast. He’s such a big boy. I hope Jude is as proud of him as I am. The traitor puts us down near the city and we walk in under the cover of night. I stand staring in wonder at the symbols spray painted on the Capitol building. I’m smiling inside and out.

  “What is it?” The traitor asks me.

  “It’s my name and geographical coordinates.” I murmur softly touching my husband’s words.

  “I don’t recognize the language.”

  “You aren’t supposed to, traitor. He isn’t far, a mile or two. The girl and I can make it from here.”

  “I am taking you to your husband. I can camp in that tank we passed tonight. Maybe I’ll find a truck tomorrow and make my way south. I’ll sleep easier when I am across the border.”

  “This doesn’t make us even, traitor. You are still my enemy.”

  “Nothing could be farther from the truth. I’m not your enemy. I am in awe of you. I have never met anyone as pure hearted and organic as you are. Not once did you break. Not once did you cry for yourself. I hope your Jude is worth it.”

  I look up at him. I don’t know why I do. I have never looked him face on before. He’s handsome. He is also in love with me. I can see it all over his face and in his clear eyes. I look away feeling things I’m not supposed to. This man stole me. He stole my child and he kept me away from my husband and church. The traitor was never unkind to me. He brought me fresh flowers and fresh fruit. He thought he was rescuing me. It isn’t his fault. He is ignorant to our ways. That’s how we like it.

  “We should get going.” I tell him.

  “What kind of church has their own language?”

  “Smart ones, traitor. There are people coming. Three men on horseback.” I recognize the horses gait. “Don’t shoot, they are from my church.”

  Chapter Twenty-three

  “How do you know?”

  “I can’t tell you that. I am going out to meet the men. After we are gone, run. My husband isn’t with them.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I just know.”

  “You are going to let me walk away?”

  “May God forgive your traitorous soul.”

  “Do you know I have never seen your face?”

  “You don’t want to.” I assure him.

  “I don’t need to.”

  The traitor crosses every boundary when he kisses my covered head and the baby’s before he disappears.

  “It’s her. It’s the Goodwife. All glory be to God. She came back to us.”

  I ride behind a strange man who wept when he saw me. He is one of us. I knew from the sound their horse’s hooves made on the concrete. It’s another way we communicate. We ride out of the city and into a valley. We ride out of the valley and they let me down at the foot of a drive. I climb it in anticipation. Judea’s horse is in the pasture when I walk past the barbed wire fence. The house is well kept and dark except for one room in back. The ranch is low enough that I can see in the window. I stand watching him unsure of what I will say. I watch him with a yearning that is deeper than the worst hunger pains. I watch him in fascination. His hips are pumping between the tall woman’s pale thighs. I watch him kiss her and raise her legs so he can go deeper. I am a kid again watching the good Reverend Hamilton rut on his line of wives. I can’t look away. I watch him until his hips move faster and he fucks her harder until he stiffens and lays on top of her. I watch him roll onto the third wife who raises her arms and knees in invitation. He doesn’t have the same passion with her but he enjoys it anyway. The second wife reaches out to rub his back as he is giving my love to the third wife.

  I just went to hell and came back for him and he is here making love to them? I should not feel this anger. I should not feel this jealousy. I should not feel hate when I see him with them. He promised me. He made me a promise that was not his to give. It belonged to the church, like him. I watch them until they fall asleep. I creep into the house as silent as a shadow and I wait. The third wife gets up for a drink in the middle of the night. I don’t kill her. I give her my son and I tell her to take care of him. I tell her to take care of Jude. He doesn’t have room here for me. She begs me to wake him and speak with him. I tell her that it is best if I leave before he wakes. I kiss my son and look at his father one more time from the doorway. He is even more perfect than he was when I last saw him. I want to remember him this way. Sleeping contentedly with the second wife in his arms. He loves her. I am glad he has someone to love. She’s curled into him with her hair spread out over his chest. She loves him too.

  “Goodwife, you are injured. Let me help you.”

  “It’s fine. Just give me some water and a fresh dress.”

  I leave my son behind because I know his father can protect him better than I can traveling alone. Where will I go? If I leave my husband it means I leave the church. I don’t feel welcome here. I have no place in their bed. Three is a crowd, four is a mess. I won’t be like my mother. She spent most of her life hurting because Father didn’t love her enough. I make my escape at a full run. I move quickly now that I am alone. I creep and sneak my way back into the city. I crawl under a loose spot in the tall fence and search for signs of life around the tank. I feel a pistol pressed to my temple and I curse myself for letting someone sneak up on me.

  “Lower your weapon, traitor. It’s me.”

  “I know who you are. Who are you with? Did you come to kill me?”

  “If I wanted to kill you, you would be dead.”

  “Why are you here? Where is your son?”

  “I left him with his father.”

  The traitor lights a lantern and it glows around us. He walks over to me again.

  “What happened?”

  I won’t let this traitor see me cry.

  “My husband moved on. It happens when your wife leaves for a year and you have two more, one more beautiful than the next.”

  “He told you to leave?” The traitor is surprised.

  “I am not speaking about this anymore. I’ve decided to go to Panama. I’ll walk as far as Mexico with you and make it on my own from there. We should run through the night. My husband will be angry.”

  “You ran away from him? He didn’t make you leave?”

  I look down at my clasped hands and I shake my head. I ran like a coward. I ran while he was sleeping. He might decide to kill me too if he finds me with this traitor. The traitor’s hand reaches for my face. It moves slowly. So slowly. I can stop him at an
y moment. His fingers pinch the end of my scarf. They begin to unwind the dusty silk. He pulls it away with his eyes locked on mine. I watch his eyes devour my face like a starving man. They trace the line of my scar and move on to take in the rest of my face. My heart is beating fast and I am holding my breath. I shouldn’t be here. Go back, Duma. Go back to your husband where you belong.

  “Why would a man want to be with another woman when he can be with you?”

  I look down at my feet. I am tempted in so many ways. I am tempted to run. I am tempted to stay. I am so alone right now and my loneliness is making me vulnerable. I need someone to care about me. I need to feel wanted.

  “I was drawn to you the moment I saw you hiding in those rafters. I was still drawn to you after I found out you were married.”

  “This is a sin.” I say shakily.

  “No, this is a sin.”

  He grabs me and kisses me. I am too stunned to react at first. When I get over my shock, I wrap my arms around him and I kiss him back. I am kissing the traitor. I let him hold me and slip his tongue into my mouth and I enjoy it. He isn’t the man I want but he is the one I need right now. I am shaken and confused after he kisses me but I don’t get time to think about it long. He takes my hand and we run from my husband together. I am always running to Judea. I never imagined I would be running away from him. I should have said goodbye. I should have given him a chance to choose me. I won’t give him the chance to not choose me. It will kill me to hear him say that he is choosing them. The traitor is still dressed in military gear as he leads me out of the city and into the wild.

  “Francesca? What happened? Why are you sitting out here alone?”

  Jude walks around the couch to sit beside her. He pauses when he sees the baby in her arms. He hasn’t seen a baby since they left the church. Francesca is cradling the strange child in her arms like it’s her own. The only thing peeking out of the blanket is a wealth of black hair. The hair made him reach up and touch his own.

  “Whose baby is this?”

  Jude feels like he’d finally been struck by the lightning Duma said was coming one day. His heart stops as he walks closer. The tiny brown face looks up at him and he knows right away.

  “Where is she? Duma? Dumani? Where are you?” He runs through the house yelling her name. There is no answer. He goes back to Francesca who’s crying even harder.

  “Where is she, Francesca? Where’s my wife?”

  “The Goodwife came last night and she left again. She was tired and shot—”

  “Shot? She was here and you didn’t wake me? What were you fucking thinking?”

  In his blind rage, he screams at her while she’s holding his child and carrying another.

  “I begged her to stay and I prayed but she refused.”

  “Does the Goodwife make the decisions in this family? I am the man in this house.”

  “She told me she would come back and kill me if I woke you. I believed her. I’m sorry.”

  “What else did she say? Tell me everything, word for word.”

  Francesca tells him word for word apologizing in between each fit of tears.

  “She told me how much she loves you and how she only wants the best for you. She said she left the church. She wanted a head start in case you go after her, but she hopes we will respect her decision and pray for her on her next journey. She said—”

  “Spit it out. What did she say?”

  “That she has no place here. There is no room for her.” Francesca sobs.

  “She said that?”

  The girl nods her beautiful red head and he sinks to his knees. She left him? She left him and she left the church? Speaking it out loud made it so. By law, she is dead to the church now.

  “We love her so much. I told her so. She hugged me and told me how beautiful I was. Then, she made me promise to take care of you and baby Jude. That is what she calls him. He is named after you.”

  His son. Their baby. A boy. Jude unwraps him and looks him over with pride feeling the second greatest love that he would ever feel. His baby with Duma. He’s brown like her and dark like him. He holds his son to his heart and cries. Men are not supposed to cry. He was raised to eat pain like it tastes good and drink misery like water. He was raised to be strong. This tiny boy brought him to his knees the way his mother does. She has no place here? This is her place. Her place is beside him. If the church finds out she left him, it will be bad. They won’t take her back or let a slight of this magnitude go. They will want him to hang her in front of the church. He could never kill her. He would kill them first. Dumani saw him in bed with his women and it hurt her feelings. She was gone for so long. She clawed her way back here with his son to find him with his arms too full for her. She was injured and love sick and he ran her off. He was the one who told her to not listen to the church. He was the one who told her he only needed one wife. He told her to think for herself and she did. Where is she? Who is she with? Where would she go? To where? She would never go back to her mother which means she can be anywhere. On a boat, a horse or in a car. Far away from him.

  “I sat here with the baby. We waited for you to wake up.”

  Jude pulls her into his free arm and holds her. It isn’t her fault. He kisses her soft hair and tells her he’s sorry. He shouldn’t have yelled at her. He’s losing it. Duma left the church and walked away from their son. She walked away because she doesn’t want to share him. She walked away from everything she knows to give him the life she thinks he wants. He settles his son on Francesca’s lap.

  “What are you feeding him?”

  “I found a goat tied to the porch rail this morning.”

  “She thinks of everything.”

  “We should pray for her soul. She is walking in the world of the damned.”

  “Yes, she is. And, I am going to find her and bring her back.”

  He picks up his gear and checks it over. There is no sense in asking her which way Duma went because she doesn’t know. Francesca, as sweet as she is, isn’t a thinker. It doesn’t matter because she has a husband to do that for her. He gave her books and puzzles but she prefers to read her bible or work. Duma read every night until her candle burned out. She read books that made her blush. Never her bible. Jude gets an ache in his gut. He misses that blush. He misses her. He needs her.

  “God speed, husband.”

  “Stay here until I return. Take care of my son.”

  Jude doesn’t kiss her or wake Jennifer to say goodbye. He’s setting them aside when he gets back. He is kicking them out like one-night stands. Duma left the church and he will leave it with her. He left the church the moment he decided to go after her. He jogs down the drive and questions the first guards he sees. Did you see anyone coming or going last night? No, just the Goodwife. Now that she has supposedly returned, they will all want to head home. He has to find her before they know she left. He will drag her back if she leaves him no other choice. He can’t believe she left him. She’s his world. What can he do without the world? Nothing. That is what he is without her. No woman can take her place. They didn’t take her place. They saved her place. He wants her so badly his dick is jumping knowing she was so close. He won’t stop until he finds her. He runs into a posse on their way up to the camp.

  “You men ride ahead. I’ll meet you at the house.”

  The two men watch the group until they are out of sight. Titus lifts his gas mask. Jude lifts his.

  “She left you.” He states a fact.

  “You saw her?”

  “Yes. She cried when she saw me.”

  “You let her go?”

  “She left the church.” Titus says with a shrug.

  “I know she left the church, but she isn’t leaving me. Duma is your sister. How could you let her go off on her own like that?”

  “She can take care of herself.”

  “That doesn’t mean she should be out there wandering this dead land. There are bad people out there.”

  “Duma can take car
e of them too. She left you, Jude. It happens. My sister isn’t the same person that I know from before. I don’t own her, and neither does the church.”

  “I want her back. Damned the church. I love her Titus and I want to be with her.”

  “She wasn’t alone.” He says gloomily.

  “Wasn’t alone? What do you mean?”

  “She was with a man. She ran off with a man and everyone knows it. Let her go or step down and chase after her.”

  It felt like a shotgun blast to his chest. She left him for another man? Duma? He didn’t believe it. She met someone else? His dearest wife ran off with another man?

  “Jude, you look like you are going to faint. If it is any help, the man told me he hasn’t touched her. I asked him myself because I was going to shoot him. She stepped in front of the barrel and pushed it aside. It’s what she wants so I let them go.”

  “He will not be so lucky with me.”

  “They went south. I think he’s going to Mexico.”

  “Mexico? Did you see him? What did he look like?”

  “Pretty boy with yellow hair.”

  “That is the same son of a bitch we met in Louisiana. He wasn’t military, he was with a group of women and children.”