Page 49 of Acts of Contrition
“That’s my girl. Come on. It’s not too far to their home, and you can see more of the grounds.”
He hands me sunglasses and we exit the house to a perfectly warm breeze. Hand-in-hand, we walk down the clean sidewalks. Each house has its own large, grassy space around it, with many that have gardens.
In the distance, I spot what looks like farmland.
“We keep and slaughter our own animals, as well as garden. We grocery shop for things too difficult to raise or grow,but we try to be sustainable. To not rely on the rest of the wicked world for our needs,” he says.
“Except coffee?” I guess and he laughs, really laughs.
“Lisa told you, hm? We all have our vices. Mine happen to be caffeine, blood, and beautiful young ladies whose hands fit perfectly in mine.” He winks and we keep walking.
It seems like at least a hundred people must live on this compound, more than I suspected. Children play outside a school, a myriad of ages but not teenagers.
“We don’t have a high school,” Thomas says. “Father Oliver says the children born here need to experience the real world to understand why they livehere.”
“Do … any of them leave?”
He nods. “A couple have grown and chosen to leave, my first year here. A dear mistake on their part, but it was their right to try.”
I don’t know why, but I expected Oliver and Catherine to live in a grand home, but their house is as quaint as all the others. The only difference is they and Thomas have the only lake views.
Thomas knocks on the door and the man who opens it is the one who brought my cabinet down to the basement. He has a splatter of blood on his wrist.
“Brother Thomas, are you here for— Oh!” He cuts himself off in shock when he sees me.
“Brother Joseph, meet Diana. My bride.” Thomas smiles down at me and I don’t know how people greet each other here.
“Nice to meet you,” I say, realizing he is looking at me now, unlike before. So he couldn’t look at me because I was a prisoner. Interesting.
“Same, same. Thomas bragged about you since the moment he saw you. We’re all a bit jealous he met his soulmate, but he’s been happier than ever since you arrived,” Joseph says.“Anyway, Brother, evidently the other day Sister Lisa cursed and nearly defied Mother Catherine, so she’s inside.”
Thomas rolls his eyes. “You’d think she hadn’t chosen to join the community herself with the way she slips back into her old self. See you on Wednesday.”
Joseph waves and I want to ask how community members get punished, but as we walk in, I see I don’t need to ask anything.
Lisa hangs from a set of handcuffs dangling from a nail in the wall, her face to the plaster, bare body covered in bloody lashes. Mother Catherine clucks her tongue at Lisa as we walk in. When she sees me, her countenance brightens.
“Oh, Diana! Welcome, welcome!” She gestures to her blood-splattered blouse. “I’d rather not get this on you, dear.”
I’m just trying to avoid looking at Lisa.
Catherine can tell and waves her hand in that direction. “Once you choose to be a member of the community, if you don’t have a proper partner, punishment is meted out fairly between members,” she says. “You’ll never have to worry about it, though, dear. Is it too early of me to give my congratulations?”
Thomas shakes his head. “Not at all. We are here to ask for Father Oliver’s blessing, as my bride’s training has been completed. There was nothing more I could do for her; the choice was hers how she would proceed.”
“Wonderful! You will make a beautiful couple, and will surely strengthen the church and community.” She turns warm brown eyes to me. “Brother Thomas is in line to follow in my husband’s footsteps and lead the community. Being his wife brings a status unlike any other.”
I didn’t even realize that; Thomas did tell me when we met he was the pastor-in-training.
“Go on and see Ollie,” Catherine continues. “I’ll finish up with Lisa here.”
Thomas nods and leads me down a hall and knocks on a door that reads, “OFFICE”. “Father Oliver, may I come in?”
Permission granted and we enter a spacious office decorated with degrees and certificates, as well as framed Bible quotes and a painting of Jesus on the Cross. Oliver sits at a large oak desk, turning to see us.
“Well, Diana, we meet officially at last,” he says, standing and holding his hand out.
I take it and shake; he seems much more genial here than he did when he met with all of us sex workers on the street. Not that he ever spoke to me. It was always Thomas.
