Weathering Storms

by Taborri Walker

  “’ave you seen dis?” she dropped on her knees in front of Beulah and held out the homemade tome. Before the man could think to take it back, she laid it in Beulah’s hands.

  “That… be My Privately scribed Holy Word,” Allway managed to stammer. “Be thou gentle with it, tis very Sacred…” He saw there was no way to take it from Beulah without appearing suspicious.

  “Oh, my,” the woman whispered, inhaling as she looked at it, lying in her hands. Her fingers automatically stroked the covers.

  “So nice,” Sesha whispered and laid her hands on her breast tops and looked right at Beulah, straight into her eyes. She knew she was taking a tremendous risk at this, but she needed to see if Beulah was smart enough and truly ready to rebel against her husband and his Monitors. She reached out one hand and laid her fingers on the cover, giving the preserved nipple a tiny flick with her little fingernail. And then she knew that Beulah figured it out.

  The woman’s eyes widened for a moment but she suppressed the reaction, and then Sesha turned the book over. The hand on her breast dropped to her lap and her fingers curled as if around a man’s shaft. Beulah, just like Sesha, inwardly recoiled in horror. She knew now what she was seeing and feeling. But she contained herself, and after a moment opened the book. The markers she’d seen before were gone, but now she guessed that the dark ink that was flaking in places must be blood.

  If the leather is human skin, what else could the ink be? she thought, and now a knot of terrible fear sprouted inside her. What kind of monster had she married? And just how to leave this place now?

  Sesha solved that one for her. Looking right at the horrified woman hiding her reactions well, the alien girl dropped a fast wink this time, then began to wilt with weariness into Beulah’s shoulder. She picked up on it right away.

  “Husband, whatever you have been doing with Sesha – “

  “Her first lessons about God and his Church,” he reached out and took the tome as she held it out to him. He placed it on its stand and wiped it carefully with his kerchief. “She doth understand more than we knew.”

  “Has worn her out.” Beulah acted as if he hadn’t spoken. “So if you will let us out, please, she needs her nap. How could you have forgotten that her wounds were so severe? She still needs a long time to heal. Can not you see how she is posturing, note the seepage staining the waist cloth? I believe the child is in pain again.”

  The man said nothing but merely let them out the side entrance. From there, Beulah supported the weary woman back into her bed in the Reverend’s house, instead of the infirmary. She laid Sesha down on the bed, undid the snug clothing bands, washing the blood and fluids off – there was a bucket of water still there, old but useable – and kissed her as the girl’s eyes drifted shut.

  Sitting, Beulah picked up her embroidery, working several stitches to steady her hands and mind. This had been a horrible occurrence, something she never expected to have happen and she was still shaking over it, so much so that Beulah flung the work down, burying her face in her hands. The quiet helped calm her and then she remembered the winks Sesha had given, so she decided to see if it meant anything or not.

  “Sesha?” she nudged the lightly sleeping woman’s shoulder. When Sesha opened her eyes, Beulah winked one exactly the way Sesha had to her – a slow one. But instead of acting puzzled, the woman grinned a huge, happy one. Beulah stared at her, another horrifying thought rising, then snapped “just who in God’s heaven are you really?”

  There was a bit of accent but no soft, high-pitched voice and the English, perfect. “Is there anywhere in this horrible slave camp where we can talk in total privacy?”

  Shock, confusion and fear twisted Beulah’s face as she tried to rise, backpedaled and fell over with her chair! From there she scrambled to a corner and stared in a mental tumult at the girl lying on the bed.

  In the secret prayer room the Reverend again knelt in prayer to his Beloved God. He writhed and agonized, he pounded his head on the floor and shouted and cried. His loins ached for the fulfillment of his desires. After pleading for a length of time, he took his precious Holy Word in hand and repeated the action that had never failed him yet.

  He closed his eyes, and whispering his favorite verse, “If ye shall ask anything in My Name, I will do it,” he let the pages ruffle through his fingers and finally stopped the action, carefully laid his hand in the middle of the pages and let his finger softly stroke each page until he felt it was time to stop. Taking in a deep breath, he opened his eyes and read where his finger was.

  Beware of false prophets, which come to you in sheep's clothing, but inwardly they are ravening wolves.

  He broke into a sweat and began trembling. He, The Most Holy Lord Reverend Peter Allway a false prophet? Never! He was the Voice of Truth who set free mankind through the Will of God Almighty and His Son Jesus Christ! No, no, it must be Satan testing him. God must be allowing a test of his faith the way he tested the Old Testament holy man Job. Perhaps he was becoming complacent in his life and God was seeing fit to test him. Yes, that must be it. So he closed the book, closed his eyes and repeated the time-honored ritual.

  Flutter pages… stop.

  Run finger all around… stop.

  Open eyes and read…

  Therefore shall his calamity come suddenly; suddenly shall he be broken without remedy.

  Now he really shook. Bile rose into his throat and repeated swallowing didn’t ease the sensation of needing to vomit, but he fought it valiantly until it dissipated. His mind was in a panic, his thoughts disoriented. In all the years of performing his ritual he had never, ever come across such verses! Why now? What was His Lord and God trying to tell him, or in truth was it Satan trying to break his Faith?

  His mind latched onto a memory of his grandmother. He was a child of six years, sitting at her knee learning to sew a button onto a piece of cloth. He was having trouble threading the needle. Twice he had tried, twice he had failed and had burst into tears of frustration. After mopping his face and adjuring him not to cry she had said “third time’s the charm.” He’d tried again and succeeded!

  “That must be the lesson the Lord is trying to teach me,” he breathed. “Third time’s the charm,” he whispered, closed his eyes and began again. He continually repeated “third time’s the charm, third time’s the charm” as he let the pages riffle again and again through his fingers.

  Stop, and begin moving his finger all over the double pages. “Third time’s the charm, third time’s the charm, third time’s the charm…” as he let it go on and on. The feeling to stop wasn’t coming after the fifth repeat so he cracked open one eye just to see which book… it was Psalms, at chapter 18 and inwardly he sighed. It was all a good chapter! Since it took up both pages, maybe that was why he couldn’t get the feeling to stop. The Lord was telling him it all applied. So he opened his eyes, settled himself into a comfortable reclining position and began reading with utter delight. Soon the previous verses were forgotten in the comfort and refutation this passage gave him.

  Laying quiet on the bed, not moving, Sesha watched Beulah struggle with her emotions and the physical symptoms it brought. Her decision not to get up and go to her was a hard one; all she wanted to do was pull the women into her arms and comfort her.

  When Beulah did speak, she just gasped “My heart… be racing fast.”

  “Lie flat on the floor, Beulah, and put your feet on the wall as high as your legs will let you. Do you want me to come over?”

  “No… no, wait, child… let me rest and just answer me this… are you some kind of spy?”

  “Wow… that’s a question I didn’t expect. Before I answer, may I ask why you ask that? And just breathe slowly please, Beulah. I really do care for you a lot, I don’t want you to be hurt by this.”

  The woman only nodded and silence fell as she did the requested inhalations. “I have heard – and been told by others – that part of the plan for this Missionary Journey is… to fell the current govern
ment. Monitor Hosea would be the new Dictator, Peter the Spiritual Leader and the conversions would be done as in the days of the Spanish Inquisition; convert or die. All the Monitors except the youngest two know this plan and Grace’s husband, Nicodemus, has heard vague references of the possibility of certain disappearances before lighting somewhere. ‘Extra burden’ were the words used. Now answer, child?”

  “How’s your heart feeling?”

  “Better.”

  “Just stay like that please. And no, I’m not a spy from any government. I am what I said, a stranger here. And I need help, not just for my injuries but more. Please? Is there somewhere to talk where we can’t be overheard?””

  Beulah lowered her legs but stayed there, quiet, then slowly got up. Wise enough in medical knowledge to know after the heart slows down to move carefully so as not to set it off again.

  “Come then, child,” but Sesha stayed down.

  “I really do need some help, please?”

  It was a relief to see Beulah come to her aid right away; sitting up still needed an assist, even when she was acting. Beulah led Sesha to the first-floor private bathroom in their house. It was a spacious room, with woven towels of incredible softness, yet thick and absorbent, and a crude septic setup for bodily waste. A bucket of water sat by the disposal unit to help flush down the detritus, presumably to a pit under it. But what really surprised Sesha was the tub.

  It was long enough to stretch out in, deep enough to drown in and had a drain on the side at the bottom to take out the water. It stood tall on four stout legs and under it was a wide metal bucket with the makings for a small fire in it. Even though the tub itself was wood, they had coated the inside of it with a crude mix of rubber – probably from the small grove of trees she’d seen being carefully tended. So it was leak-proof. Sesha knelt carefully on one knee and peered underneath, awed at the sight of this wonderful work of engineering. And sure enough, it had metal plating underneath, so it had the ability to have the water heat without burning the vessel. This insane man was ahead of his time here! She had to admire his genius while she despised his goals.

  The tub was three-quarters full of water right now, and Beulah used a crude, homemade match to light the fire in the bucket, then shoved it back under.

  “We need to soak the bandages off your back, I’m betting. I heard the thump when Peter pushed you over, and there’s spots of blood on the back of your dress where the impaction occurred before.” Beulah spoke briskly, matter-of-fact, as if she hadn’t just learned exactly how wicked her husband really was, what danger she was in and that someone she’d been tending to for just over 3 months now was much more than seemed! “I tried to reach under and wipe it off but there’s more.”

  “That’s why it hurts worse again,” Sesha sighed and turned around so the preacher’s wife could unbutton her dress, the only help she needed now in putting on the dress garments. Then she shrugged it off carefully, and Beulah drew the socks off her feet after wrapping her in a towel. Sesha slipped out of the bloomers and put her hands on her slender belly, just above her hips. “What you’re going to see now will startle you,” she told Beulah quietly. “You’ve never seen anything like it. This room is truly private?”

  “The walls are very thick in our house,” she confirmed. “The Reverend had it made that way on purpose so no-one could hear us when we had our… conjugal visits. Of course, no-one lives here except us and we rarely have visitors. Usually only Monitors come here for meeting with…him… every Saturday night. And you.”

  Sesha nodded and began pulling at her skin, it looked like to Beulah. Her fingers literally went into her lower abdomen and her skin lifted and began to part, peeling off down her thighs. The woman’s face went pale and she staggered, clutching at her throat.

  “Whoops!” Sesha said. She stopped, grabbed the woman and eased her to the plank on the disposal hole. Then she tapped the beautiful stone of her ornate bracelet and suddenly the skin around her hips, thighs and knees turned white – into some kind of thin cloth looped and then loosely tied around her lower body. “It’s a suit of clothes, of sorts, Beulah… very different from anything you’ve ever known. It can take on the appearance of whatever I need it too,” She explained as she unwrapped it. “I picked it up from its hiding place when I got the stuff for Anna.” Fully nude now, she glanced at the Reverend’s wife as she stepped into the cool water in the tub.

  “The water hasn’t had time to heat up yet and you’re always chilled, even now.” Beulah suddenly got her senses back and rose to try to deter her.

  “It’ll feel good cold at first.” Sesha caught the held out hand and used it to help steady her as she stepped in. “Can we put out the fire when it gets hot enough?”

  “Yes.” The woman’s eyes were averted.

  “Am I doing something wrong?” Sesha paused before sitting down.

  “No, dear. It’s your nudity. We try not to look at each other.”

  “But you’ve already seen me entirely naked. What’s different now?”

  “Now is that you’re up and about. Your body is very sensual and I don’t want to be tempted with improper thoughts.”

  “Well, that’s the problem then.” Sesha settled into the cold water with a sigh. “If your husband can’t see that admiring a body and sex are good and natural and normal, and you believe it, then…” she let the statement fall unfinished. Beulah was smart enough to fill in the rest. Sesha sighed again. Against the heat of the day the cool water did feel good.

  “Remember the piece of gauzy cloth I was rubbing over my legs before putting on the bloomers? That was this. Here,” the almost-weightless thing was tossed over, so Beulah sat down to look it over.

  Silence fell; Sesha had to shift a bit because the tub was heating up where the metal plate was. She watched as the Frontierswoman of a race barely beginning a technological era felt the materiel, stretched it every way, slid her hand and arm into it and generally examined the piece from top to bottom. She found the collar and gloves, felt the thicker areas and peered closer as she saw designs under the cloth, both inside and out. Finally Beulah folded the suit into a small square and set it on top of the folded towels. It was quiet again for a few minutes.

  On impulse Sesha tossed a handful of water on Beulah, who closed her eyes against the splash but sighed with the cooling effect. “Get over here and wash your face,” she ordered and was disappointed to see the woman rise without argument and come over before she realized what she was doing.

  “He’s got me well-trained,” the woman laughed bitterly as she knelt and dipped her hand into the water. This time she didn’t avert her eyes, but looked at Sesha’s face and smiled as she was handed the bit of wet cloth. Beulah wrung it over her neck both front and back and sighed with the relief.

  “Where I come from,” Sesha leaned back carefully against the side of the tub, “nudity is natural and fine. You may go about dressed or not and it isn’t frowned on or believed wrong. No-one holds us in thrall either, forcing beliefs on us. We have a very advanced society with marvelous machines and things you’ve never dreamed of, such as… vehicles that fly. We live in peace and harmony – mostly – under a set of… universally moral rules that everyone has agreed upon.”

  “That sounds like a wonderful place… our books call that a Utopia, the Bible calls that Zion, the name of a city in the Old Testament. So where are you from that has clothing that changes, flying carriages and everyone goes naked when they want to?” Her tone was skeptical but the smile a bit sunny, willing to be convinced.

  Sesha considered how to tell her for a moment. “First, let me tell you a little something about my bracelet… this isn’t its real look.”

  “It’s… not?” Beulah laid her fingers on some of the sliver lines that ran around her arm in an eternity knot. “It feels real,”

  “Like the clothing you held, this changes form too. I put it in this form so it would seem exotic and beautiful to all of you, and so no one could figure out how t
o take it off.”

  “It can?”

  “Let me show you the way I usually have it. The gem here is going to become larger, most of the silver will vanish. Ready?” When Beulah nodded, Sesha touched the Gem and watched as it took on the aspect she used. Beulah gasped again, but Sesha grabbed her hand and laid it on the Gem pad.

  “Oh… my… it… feels just as real!”

  “It is. And I’m going to ask it to do something for me, the words will be as odd to you as my true language. But I must make sure there are no ways that we can be overheard,” she sat up again, rolling her shoulders to loosen the stiff muscles in her back. She rose to her feet, activated her Wrist-Gem and was relieved to see – again – that the display was still bright. “Computer, activate broad scan sweep mode for any possible way we could be overheard. Begin now.”

  “Beginning,” Shni’s sweet male voice affirmed. A beam of light shot out from the device, spreading to a wide fan shape which Sesha started to play rapidly over every inch of the walls, ceiling and floor in the room.

  “Sweet Jesus,” Beulah leapt back in terror, her hands clutching at her throat. Startled, Sesha paused the program and reached out her other hand.

  “It’s alright, Beulah,” she smiled, speaking soothingly. “It’s just a beam of light like shines off the candles, you know? And when you use a mirror, you can tip the mirror and light shines where you aim it? And the voice is like hearing one from the tubes you use for speaking in the infirmary from one room to another?”

  Hearing Sesha speak of ways they used their items made her nod.

  “At night, in the infirmary you carry a lit candle and a mirror. You use the mirror to shine a little light on the patients so you can see them better.”

  “And it does not set hair or clothing on fire,” but Beulah stayed against the door. Sesha stepped out of the tub and held out her unadorned arm and hand towards the terrified woman. “I’ve trusted you to care for me for three months,” she gestured at her back. “And you trusted me, in the secret room in your church building when I gave you clues to the Reverend’s lies and crimes. Won’t you please keep trusting me now?” She smiled encouragingly and moved her hand, a wordless request added on.