by Mark Tilbury
Dixie smiled. A worn-out smile detached from her eyes. She sat down. ‘Thank you, Father.’
Ebb stretched himself up to his full height. ‘You see the evil we are up against? Satan is as slippery as an eel coated in oil. We must not let our guard down for one second. He is as elusive as the wind. As dangerous as the turning tide. One wrong move, and, BAM!’ Ebb thumped the table. ‘He’ll be upon you like a hog in heat.’
Tweezer held his hands up. ‘Lord, we ask that you protect us from evil.’
‘Amen,’ the group mumbled.
Ebb gestured towards a young girl with a sandy-brown crewcut. ‘Sister Emily. Please introduce yourself.’
Ben’s heart thudded in his chest. Even though she looked nothing like the girl in the photograph, having the same name was just too much of a coincidence.
Emily stood up and looked at Ebb. Her eyes looked red as if she’d been crying. ‘My name’s Emily. I’m nineteen years old. And I owe my life to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation. Before I found Jesus, I was a lost soul.’
‘Praise Jesus,’ Ebb chirped.
‘I was a wretch, lurching through life with no purpose. I hated my life. My father was a bully. He was an officer in the army.’
The coincidences piled up in Ben’s head.
‘I never saw much of him when I was growing up. He was always away from home. I didn’t like school. I had no proper friends. Girls were too bitchy to bother with. As for boys, they were all immature.’
‘You are a paragon of virtue, Sister Emily.’
‘Thank you, Father.’
‘Please continue.’
‘But when I found Jesus, my life had meaning. A purpose. The capitalist world has always disgusted me. The hypocrisy of a society built on greed and selfishness. Everyone treading on top of one another, with no consideration for anyone else.’
‘The Lord watches. The Lord sees. The Lord knows the truth,’ Ebb babbled.
Emily nodded. ‘I thank the Lord Jesus Christ and The Sons and Daughters of Salvation for rescuing me from a meaningless life. For filling up my heart with joy and purpose.’
Ebb raised a hand. ‘Thank you, Sister Emily. You may be seated.’
Ben watched Emily sit down. She didn’t look like someone whose heart was full of joy and purpose.
Ebb instructed Bubba to stand. The guy was six feet six in his bare feet. He studied the table as if his life was mapped out in the knots and scratches.
Ebb introduced him. ‘This is Bubba. Because he doesn’t speak, I’ll say a few words on his behalf. First things first; I think it’s fair to say that Bubba was built with the farm….’
A ripple of dutiful laughter.
Ebb raised his hand. I know. I should’ve been a stand-up comedian. ‘Bubba used to work for Brother Cyril right back when Penghilly’s Farm was a working farm.’ Ebb paused and looked at Bubba. ‘Eggs and potatoes, if memory serves me?’
Bubba nodded.
Ebb continued. ‘Brother Cyril was the original owner of Penghilly’s Farm. Sadly, he is no longer among us. He had an accident with a tractor when we were felling trees. The Lord took him to eat at His table, folks. May God rest his soul.’
‘God rest his soul,’ Tweezer echoed.
‘A sad day. But who are we to question the Lord’s intentions? We are here to serve. But let it be known that we are all grateful for Brother Cyril’s contribution to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation.’
Bubba stared at the table. He seemed to mouth something. A silent prayer, perhaps?
‘Bubba has been a good and loyal servant. I felt it my duty to help him. To understand him. To take him into my care and show compassion.’
Tweezer held up a hand. ‘A gracious act, Father.’
Ebb agreed. ‘We are nothing without benevolence and compassion. Nothing but empty shells. Bubba has proved to be a selfless worker. An honest man who has given himself without complaint to the Lord. He speaks volumes without words. The Lord is proud of you, Brother Bubba.’
Bubba nodded and studied the table.
‘Brother Cyril came in a dream and spoke of his love for you, Brother Bubba.’
Bubba chewed his bottom lip. Ben thought the big man looked on the verge of tears.
Ebb told Bubba to sit down. ‘Okay, that’s the introductions over. Any questions?’
There were dozens perched on Ben’s tongue like birds on a telephone wire. ‘No, Father.’
‘What happens now?’ Maddie asked.
‘You will both be indoctrinated into the group.’
‘How?’
Ebb waved a hand. ‘All in good time, Madeline. All in good time. Sister Alice?’
‘Yes, Father?’
‘Show Madeline to her quarters.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Maddie walked out of the room behind Sister Alice. She didn’t look back at Ben. She put him in mind of a prisoner being escorted to her cell.
Ebb turned to Tweezer. ‘Take Benjamin to his quarters and go through the house rules with him.’
‘Yes, Father.’
Ben followed Tweezer out of the kitchen, along the hall, and up a flight of stairs to a first floor landing. So this was it. No going back now. They would either rescue his father, or they would die trying. It was as simple as that.
14
Tweezer led Ben into a ten-feet-square room with a brass plaque on the door proclaiming Brothers. Two pine bunk beds dominated one wall, with matching wardrobes opposite. Bare floorboards threatened Ben’s bare feet with splinters.
Tweezer pointed at the bunk bed on the left. ‘You can have the top bunk above Bubba. Brother Marcus occupies the other bottom bunk. He’s tetchy about anyone sleeping above him. I’ve got my own room.’
Ben looked at the thin blue mattress. It looked about as comfortable as a bed of nails. There was a blue sleeping bag rolled up and placed on a lumpy pillow at the top of the bed.
Tweezer sniffed and wiped his nose on the back of his hand. ‘The wardrobe on the left belongs to Marcus. He’s got more clothes than the rest of us put together. You’ll have to share with Bubba. You’ll find underpants and vests in the drawer underneath. Socks and winter boots are in the Mud Room downstairs. They’re for winter use only. All soiled laundry goes in the laundry bin in the bathroom. Emily takes care of that. You’ll have all this explained to you in more detail after your inauguration.’
‘Inauguration?’
‘Induction into the group.’
Ben stared at the dirty cream walls. The paint was cracked and peeling in places. Sunlight filtered through the grime on a window next to his bunk.
Tweezer looked at his watch. ‘Supper’s at seven. There’s a bathroom along the landing if you want a scrub-up first. I wouldn’t bother with the shower. I could piss faster than that thing.’
Ben nodded. ‘Okay.’
Tweezer stroked his beard. ‘I’ll give you one or two ground rules. Nothing too heavy. Just an idea of how we expect members to behave. First off, there is no talking allowed after nine at night. You may read the Bible and pray, but conversation is banned. I’d advise you to pay attention to this. Sometimes the Father will ask for chores to be carried out, but again, silence must be observed at all times.’
‘What sort of chores?’
‘A never-ending list. Kitchen duty. Yard duty. Cleaning. Mending. Maintenance. Helping Bubba outside with the goats and the farm work.’
‘Why doesn’t he speak?’
Tweezer shrugged. ‘Search me. Like the Father says, he was here when the farm was built.’
‘How does anyone know his name, then?’
‘That’s a lot of questions, Benjamin. Remember what curiosity did to the cat?’
‘Sorry.’
‘If you must know, I think he tried to say “Brother” at his inauguration, and could only manage Bubba.’
‘I wonder what’s wrong with him?’
‘You’re not here to wonder, Benjamin. You’re here to serve the Lord Jesus Christ.’
Ben looked out the window and fought an urge to jump out of it.
Tweezer sneezed and wiped his nose. ‘Bloody hay fever. I’ll be glad when winter’s here.’
‘Antihistamines are good for hay fever. My mum suffers from hay fever.’
‘We don’t allow medicine. The Father says it interferes with God’s will.’
‘How?’
Tweezer ignored the question. ‘You’re not any good with plumbing by any chance?’
Apart from putting a plug in the sink, his plumbing skills were zero. ‘No. Sorry.’
‘Have you got any skills?’
‘No.’ Unless buggering things up counted as a skill.
‘Please address me properly. I’m willing to cut you some slack, because I know this takes time. I took a while to get into the swing of things, but I can tell you from experience, it pays to learn quickly.’
Ben nodded. ‘Sorry.’
‘Brother Tweezer.’
‘Brother Tweezer,’ Ben repeated.
‘Good man. Right, where were we? Ground rules. No one may leave the farm other than the Father, myself and Brother Marcus. That rule is rigid unless the Father gives special consent. To be honest, if you want my advice, forget the outside world. It’s full of contamination and corruption, anyway.’
Ben wondered how Tweezer, Marcus and Ebb avoided such widespread contamination and corruption. Were they immune to it? Vaccinated against it?
Tweezer rattled on. ‘The Devil stalks the streets, Benjamin. None of us are safe. Even Brother Gerald fell foul to temptation.’
Ben remembered Ebb’s offer to give him Brother Gerald’s overalls. ‘What happened to him?’
‘It was a personal matter between the Father and Brother Gerald. It was dealt with.’ Tweezer’s lips pressed into a thin line as if to underline the point.
Ben shuddered.
‘We don’t believe in hospital treatment. Medicine violates God’s will.’
‘Isn’t that similar to what Jehovah’s Witnesses believe?’
‘The Sons and Daughters of Salvation may have certain similarities to other religious groups, but we are unique. It’s important that you never refer to any other religious groups in the presence of the Father. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’
‘We believe that the body is a holy temple. We do not permit abuse of that temple with tobacco or alcohol. Do you smoke or drink alcohol?’
‘I drink sometimes, but I don’t smoke.’
‘Then abstinence should come easy to you.’
‘I guess.’
‘Address me properly.’
‘Brother Tweezer.’
‘Don’t be so flippant around the Father.’
‘No, Brother Tweezer.’
Tweezer sneezed four times and then pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger for a few seconds. ‘Saturday is our day of rest. That’s not to say you won’t be called upon to perform tasks, but as a rule, you are free to rest. Our motto is work, rest and pray. A simple philosophy that has served us well.’
Ben was certainly ready to pray. With all his heart and soul to any God that would have him.
‘All men are to remain celibate. Procreation will be punished by castration. It might sound a barbaric measure, but it is designed with compliance in mind. In short, Benjamin, keep it in your trousers.’
‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’
‘Everything is God and God is everything. All reality is part of the whole,’ Tweezer babbled. ‘Man is part of God, and man never dies.’
Ben wondered who occupied all the graveyards.
‘No contact is allowed with the outside world, other than to procure funds.’
Ben remembered Emily Hunt’s demand for money. ‘Funds?’
Tweezer ignored him. ‘You must never question the Father, or those designated to act as leader in his absence. Doing so is tantamount to disagreeing with God Himself.’
Ben nodded. ‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’
‘That’s about it for now. The Father will fill you in on the finer details later, but that’s the gist of it. Any questions?’
‘No, Brother Tweezer.’
‘We sound a bell for supper at seven. Attend as soon as you hear it. The Father doesn’t tolerate slack behaviour.’
‘Yes, Brother Tweezer.’
Tweezer walked out of the room and closed the door. Ben took a deep breath. The air was stale. It smelled of old socks and bad breath. Dust swirled in shafts of sunlight. He walked to the window and peered through the grime at a back garden overgrown with weeds and brambles. Beyond the garden, a field stretched off into the distance. The brick-built tower loomed over the courtyard like a prisoner of war guard post.
Ben tried to lift the sash window, but it was either stuck or locked. A splinter stabbed his thumb. Did The Sons and Daughters of Salvation permit the removal of splinters? Or would that be classed as interfering with God’s will?
Ben pressed his nose up against the glass. He could see the shape of someone in yellow overalls standing behind the guardrail at the top of the tower. It was impossible to tell for sure who it was, but considering Ebb had told Marcus to relieve Tweezer, he didn’t need a pair of binoculars to confirm who it was. Marcus was holding a rifle. Sunlight glinted off the barrel like a Devil’s wink.
Ben’s breath fogged up the window. He wiped it clean with his sleeve and looked out again. The rifle seemed to point at him. Ben ducked down out of view.
‘What have I done?’ Ben asked the empty room. One look into Edward Ebb’s eyes had been enough to tell him that his father was already dead. And one look at that tower was enough to tell him he would suffer the same fate.
He sat on the floor with his back against the wall and thought about Pastor Tom and his mother. He closed his eyes and wished with all his heart he’d never come anywhere near this god-awful place.
15
Ben sat at the kitchen table sandwiched between Bubba and Tweezer. There was a plastic dinner plate and a plastic tumbler on the table in front of him, along with a plastic knife and fork. The tableware reminded Ben of a children’s party. Even though he’d not eaten since early morning, his appetite refused to be tempted by the food.
Dixie and Alice sat opposite Ben, with Ebb in his rightful place at the head of the table. Emily was busy setting bowls of salad and new potatoes on the table. There was a huge plastic jug of lemon juice in the middle of the table.
Ben looked at Ebb. ‘Where’s Maddie?’
Tweezer nudged him in the ribs. Hard. It was a nudge that said shut up, right now!
Ebb stood up and clasped his hands in front of him. He was wearing a white robe tied around the middle with a black sash. He looked dressed for martial arts. ‘Since you ask, Benjamin, Madeline is preparing for inauguration.’
‘What do you mean, “preparing”?’ Ben asked.
Tweezer rounded on him. ‘Be quiet.’
Ebb waved a hand. ‘She’s resting.’
‘I apologise for Benjamin’s manners, Father.’
‘He will learn, Brother Tweezer. He will learn.’
They sat in silence as Emily finished laying the table. Emily then took her seat alongside Alice and Dixie.
Ebb raised a hand and looked around the table at each member in turn. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. ‘Oh merciful Lord, we give thanks for this wonderful meal which You have so generously provided. We are not worthy of Your kindness and Your bountiful provision, Lord.’
‘We are not worthy,’ the group chanted.
‘We are Your humble servants, Lord.’
Tweezer raised his hands. ‘Praise Jesus.’
‘Praise Jesus,’ the group agreed.
‘I’m ravenous,’ Ebb said. ‘Pass the sweet potatoes, please, Sister Alice.’
They ate in silence. Ben noticed that most of the members looked at their food as if mesmerised by it. Next to Ben, Tweezer sniffed and champed his food. If Ben’s father was at the table, he might have
told Tweezer to close his mouth while he was eating. He might also have told Bubba to tuck his elbows in, and Ebb to mop a yellow streak of butter from his chin.
Ben forced food into his mouth and chewed. He hated salad at the best of times. Thoughts of Maddie dominated his mind. What did preparing for inauguration mean? It sounded creepy and full of menace.
Ebb finished his meal and belched. He wiped grease from his mouth with a paper napkin. ‘That was a fine meal, Sister Emily.’
Sister Emily inclined her head. ‘Thank you, Father. Shall I clear the table now, Father?’
‘Yes. Thank you.’
Ben watched Emily clear the plates. He wanted to reach out and grab her arm, ask her if her name was Emily Hunt. The Emily Hunt. He searched her face for telltale signs of the girl he’d seen in the photograph. Nothing. Could four years change a person so much? The only thing Sister Emily shared with photo—Emily was a lack of expression.
It’s because her hair’s cropped, Ben thought, clutching at straws. It makes her face appear more severe. Angry, with a hint of sorrow.
But everything else fitted. Marcus. The cult. The names. Everything. As for Ebb, he looked more than capable of killing someone. Enjoying it, even. And Tweezer had already confessed to killing a man with a hammer.
With the table cleared, Ebb told Sister Emily to pour drinks. She dutifully obliged, filling each member’s beaker from the jug of iced lemon. Ebb raised his glass. ‘To our merciful Lord.’
‘Our merciful Lord,’ the group chimed.
Ebb drained his drink in one long draught and banged his beaker down on the table. After a few moments, he stood up and clapped his hands together like a teacher bringing a class to attention. ‘I’d like to welcome our good friend, Benjamin, to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation.’
‘Welcome, Benjamin,’ the group chanted.
Ben wanted to scream from the top of his lungs that his name was Ben, not Benjamin. A short and simple name with no fancy frills. Just like him. He looked at the table. Next to him, Bubba appeared to mumble something.
Ebb rested his hands on the back of his chair. ‘It’s been an eventful day, brothers and sisters. A day to be thankful for. It’s rare we get to welcome two new members into our fold. We thank You, Lord, for bringing Madeline and Benjamin to The Sons and Daughters of Salvation.’
