Copyright 2017 by Wayne and Ann Triskelion
All Rights Reserved
Chapter 1
Gwen watched the countryside pass by through the rear window of the Oldsmobile. It was a relic of Detroit's glory days, seemingly kept running by her fiancΓ©'s willpower alone. The cloth headliner dipped in the back making what should have been a spacious back seat feel cramped.
David drove, stealing glances at her in the rearview mirror. She felt his eyes on her and adjusted her plaid, woolen skirt to cover her knees. She looked up at him and smiled.
He smiled back.
"Keep your eyes on the road, please," Jessica said from the front passenger seat.
She was their chaperon, though the idea of two adults in their early twenties needing a chaperon was ludicrous.
They had controlled themselves for two years. Another four months until their wedding would be a walk in the park.
Gwen had looked forward to this trip for weeks. They were going
witnessing
in the farmland of upstate New York.
Talking about God with total strangers was a requirement for Jehovah's Witnesses.
Both their parents had insisted on David's sister-in-law taking the overnight trip with them. "Lest you be tempted to sin," her father had said.
And, she had to admit, seeing David's green eyes smiling at her in the rearview mirror was giving her tingles 'down there.' She turned and looked at the hay fields to take her mind off it.
Jessica leaned forward and turned on the radio.
"...and we have to look at the happenings in Cuba over the past year as the work of Satan," the announcer said.
Jessica rocked and nodded. "Amen."
Gwen wished she would turn off the radio. The revolution in Cuba frightened her. It had happened overnight - Noche de las Brujas they had called it: The night of the witches. The communist leaders in Cuba had all been murdered in their sleep by their wives and mistresses. A new religion had taken over the island. The Church of Morpheus had expelled all reporters, and Cuba had gone silent.
Three months later, the island re-opened for tourism - sexual tourism. Sexcations the trip planners called it.
"This is what the elders have been telling us about," Jessica said as she turned toward the back seat. "Satan is expanding his dominion on earth."
She should know
, Gwen thought. Jessica's husband Cal, David's brother, had gone to Cuba six months ago to witness to the new heathens.
Instead of witnessing, he had become one of them and refused to return.
"Church of Morpheus? They can hide behind names all they want," Gwen said. "They're satanists."
Gwen felt a shiver run through her.
"Jessica, find something else," David said. "You're upsetting Gwen."
"No, no, I'm okay," Gwen said.
"We're Jehovah's chosen people. We have to steel ourselves for the coming Apocalypse," Jessica said. "We can't do that if we aren't prepared."
David glanced in the rearview. He said 'I'm sorry' with his eyes.
Gwen gave him a weak smile and nodded. Jessica had always been soft-spoken and kind, but the past six months had taken their toll.
"Oh, they're satanists all right," Jessica said. "Why else would they choose that inverted pentagram as their symbol? And, that horrid statue in front of their temples?"
Gwen blushed at the thought of the statue. It was a rendering of a man formed from cut crystal with sharp sides and angles.
The appendage that hung between the statue's legs was obscene. It dangled past the knees.
Gwen had never seen a real one, but she knew that wasn't possible.
The farm's driveway cut off from the two lane state road. The old white farmhouse was just visible through the forest of oaks.
They drove under a canopy of trees down the narrow one lane road.
A single horse stood eating spring grass behind a white fence. The horse looked disinterested.
The fields were green with vegetation, which seemed odd to Gwen. At this time of year, the fields should have been freshly plowed.
An old Ford pickup was parked by the front porch. It sat crooked on its frame, as if it were trying to sink into the yard.
David parked beside it.
Gwen gathered her things: her purse, her Bible, and a Watchtower pamphlet. She stepped out of the car and breathed in the smells of the farm: wet grass and animals. She smiled at David over the top of the car, and he smiled back.
This was the hard part: walking to the door and knocking. She knew that most people did not welcome their presence.
She and Jessica stood on the steps as David knocked.
The door opened.
The man inside stared at them. He was well over six feet tall and dressed in faded overalls that looked too short for his body. He wore a John Deere cap on his bald head.
His eyebrows were missing, and his smooth face made him look any age from twenty to sixty.
"What do you need?" he asked. His voice was a bass rumble.
A tremor went through Gwen and she faltered on the steps. An electric current flowed through her at the sound of his voice. She blinked and shook her head, dispelling the feeling.
Glancing at Jessica, she saw the older woman trembling as well.
"Good morning, sir. I was wondering if you had time today to discuss our savior, Jesus Christ?" David said. It was a practiced line that David delivered without effort.
The man stared at David. Gwen thought she saw an amused expression pass over his smooth features. "Why not?"
Another tremor, not as strong as the first but enough to cause her to arch her back. Electricity arced from her nipples to the juncture of her legs, and her tongue felt too big for her mouth. She was looking at Jessica this time and saw her hands clench into fists.
The man stepped aside and motioned them into the foyer.
Gwen wanted to run away. Something was wrong with this man and this place. She wanted to reach out and take David's hand, pull him away down the steps.
"Come in," the man said.
And, her legs moved. She followed David and Jessica through the front door. Her eyes were drawn to the ice blue eyes of the man. He smiled at her - not a warm smile, but a smile like a predator just before the kill.
He shut the door behind them.
"I'm Alex Richards," he said.
"Is there a Mrs. Richards?" Jessica asked.
His eyes dropped to the floor. "Not in some time. She died last year."
"Very sorry for your loss," David said.
Alex Richards pointed down the farmhouse hallway. "Please, let's go to the kitchen. I was just brewing some coffee - you can drink coffee, can't you?"
David laughed. "Yes, sir. It's Mormons who can't have caffeine. We're Jehovah's Witness."
"Ahh, that's right. Call me, Alex, please. It's so nice to meet other religious people." He ushered them down the hall with his wide shoulders that seemed to stretch from one side of the passage to the other.
The kitchen was bright and white like the rest of the house, and Gwen began to feel more at ease. Coffee was brewing in a coffee maker on the marble countertop and the room had the smell of eggs and bacon from a recent breakfast.
"Please sit down," Alex said.
The three of them sat down at an antique kitchen table.
"And, what are your names?" Alex asked.
"I'm David Turner, this is my fiance, Gwen Jenkins, and my sister-in-law, Jessica."
"Pleased to meet you all," Alex said. "Now, how do you all take your coffee - let me guess. David, you like yours black, Jessica, cream and sugar, and Gwen, just sugar?"
Jessica laughed. "That's amazing."
"Exactly the way we like it," David said.
Alex turned his broad back to them and prepared the coffee. He shrugged. "What can I say, it's one of my only talents."
"So, you are a religious man, Alex?" Jessica asked.
"Indeed I am. Not that I started out that way. I never gave it much thought one way or another until my wife died." He lowered his head. "Then, I suppose I had a crisis of faith." He turned toward them with a tray of coffee cups.
"The loss of a spouse could cause anyone to have a crisis of faith," Jessica said. She was being more pleasant than she had been in months, Gwen noticed. And, why not? Her husband had abandoned her, and here was an available, handsome man of God.
Gwen stopped herself. Handsome? He wasn't handsome. His lack of eyebrows made him look strange and there was something odd about his appearance beyond that.
He pushed a coffee cup in front of her.
Gwen stared at it as Alex sat down across from her.
He was smiling at her as he raised his own cup to his lips and drank. She watched the motion and observed the level of coffee both before and after.
Alex did drink some of the coffee.
Well, of course he did
, she thought. Something in the back of her mind was telling her not to drink.