Chapter 5
My heart beats fast.
I quickly change directions. All the girls and helper-boys have five minutes to get to the Holy Sanctum. Only five minutes. If we were even a sole second late, there would be severe consequences.
Around me people rush, some tripping over one another in a mad dash to make it to the church. I keep my pace but am careful of not bumping into others and falling down. A fall can cost me precious time.
Once I arrive at the True Faith Church, I get in the short A-C line in the hallway. Since we are given our destiny husband's last names as soon as we're brought to Paradise Village, I'm supposed to be a Barstowe. After my name is checked off by one of the lower-level Elders, Holy Simms, I start making it into what the Elders call the holy sanctum. A buzzer sounds off, and I pray that everyone made it inside.
The double doors open and a terrified young girl steps in. It's my friend Jana.
Uh-oh!
"You're late!!!" snaps Holy Simms.
"Your holiness," she mutters nervously, "someone tripped me and--"
"Save your lame excuses!"
Except that there is nothing lame about her excuse. Bright red blood is running down Jana's wounded knees.
I want to burst out crying for her but of course I can't show that kind of emotion or else . . .
Holy Simms snatches her by the shoulder and drags her inside the sanctum. I, along with the others who already had their names checked off, also head inside. I am relieved that my favorite corner in the back pew is empty.
Holy Simms makes Jana stand in front of the sanctum and on the raised level where everyone can see her. Her knees drip blood as her eyes spew out thick drops of water. My own eyes become wet, but I order them to dry. I look in another direction, or my emotions won't be able to obey me.
I try to keep my concentration on the Holy Sanctum. No one can deny it's a beautiful church with hand carved pews. The expert carvings are of flowers and butterflies. The floors are white marble with spatterings of different hues, and sculptures of the ten high Elders sit throughout. They stand erectly with concentrated looks on their faces as if the weight of the world is on their shoulders and with a translucent halo behind their heads.
Ugh!
As I've said over and over again, I know total garbage when I see it.
The most interesting part in the holy sanctum is the ceiling. It's very high, over 20 feet, and reaches a high point in the middle as if a pyramid. The stained glass it's made from filters sunlight that makes the sanctum appear ethereal. The painting on the glass is of a man, supposedly the Great Master of the universe. He smiles kindly and lovingly but in his right hand, he carries an discipline club. It hasn't escaped my notice that this white haired man has the different features of the high Elders.
How do the Elders know what the Master of the universe looks like?
Why does the head Master look like them?
I push a sharp snicker back into myself and prevent my eyes from rolling.
"Flock," says Holy Simms, "the high Elders are not here yet, so you'll use this precious time to pray."
The high Elders are always doing this to us--calling a gathering and then being abysmally late while we are punished for even a second of tardiness. I look at poor Jana who still stands in front of us looking lost and in horrible pain, and I shake my head.
"Girls," he continues, "pray for your destiny husbands. Pray that you're in perfect harmony with them. Pray so that out of their immense goodness, you'll be able to reach the true paradise after your time here on earth is over."
We were taught that our destiny husbands held the key to our eternity. If they didn't deem us worthy, we could get stuck in the fires of the evil dimension forever.
"Helper-boys, pray that your all-wise Masters take pity on your soiled souls and also let you into paradise."
I glance quickly at the boys seated together on one of the pews. Miguelito gives me a small smile from his section. The various groups are put in different sections of the sanctum--the helper-boys, the unmarried girls, and the married ones. The lower-level Elders are placed in the front pews with the Masters right behind them. A place of honor is reserved for the high Elders who sit behind the podium on what should've been a choir section. There they can stare down at us with stern, unforgiving eyes.
"Pray for eternal salvation. Get on your knees!"
We start getting on our knees in the space in front of us. Only a few lower-Elders and Masters are in the sanctum. They don't have to kneel since they are supposed to already be holy. The rest of us, though, have to get on our knees on the hard, marble floor.
Jana is at a loss about what to do. Her knees are so damaged that she'd bleed all over the expensive floor.
"Kneel, sinner!" demands Holy Sims, after throwing a few grains of rice on the ground in front of her.
She immediately follows his order. The excruciating look on her face becomes worse with each passing second. Being on injured knees is bad enough but adding grains of rice to the mix is absolutely wicked. I avert my eyes again and pretend I'm praying.
I count numbers, form sentences, and try to keep hate from eating me up alive. About twenty minutes later, the high Elders and the rest of the Masters step inside. Fortunately, they hadn't kept us waiting any longer. There's been times that they keep us on our knees for hours. I don't think Jana would've survived. As it is, she's white as a sheet.
"Stand up for the holiest of Elders," Holy Simms commands.
I get off the floor with relief. My knees throb from the hard marble. Poor Jana is having a difficult time standing up. As Holy Simms glares at her and pulls out his discipline club, she roughly stumbles up. She almost falls back down but somehow gathers enough strength to keep standing up.
"What's this?" roars Highest Holy Bledsoe as he points to the bloody floor.
.Not only Jana trembles but we do too. Faces around me are lit with fear. Highest Holy Bledsoe is the leader of our community. He's the one who makes most of the decisions. The other Elders and Masters may make suggestions, but he's the most powerful person in the community.
"Why is the holy floor dirty?!" he continues ranting.
Jana's eyes are wild with fear, but she doesn't say a word. Like the rest of us, she knows that no matter what she says, the Elders will find a way of making it wrong. They'll twist whatever they have to to make themselves look good and us bad.
"Why are your knees bloody, girl?!"
When she doesn't answer, Holy Simms chimes in. "She was late to service, and I made her pray for her great sin. Maybe the Great Master will take pity on her!"
"You were late?!" Highest Holy Bledsoe roars furiously.
Jana's face is so frightened, it looks about ready to implode.
"What makes you think you can be late to the house of the Great Master whenever you feel like it? And then you bloody His holy floor! What's wrong with you? How stupid are you?"
This type of berating goes on for several minutes. Poor Jana is called practically every ugly name in the book like imbecile, worthless, and brainless. No one bothered to ask how she had gotten the bloody knees in the first place. And I wonder if this Great Master only cares about the lowly being late. Most of the Elders and Masters had been late too. That Great Master they always talked about always seemed to be playing favorites.
"Take her out of this holy place!" declares Highest Holy Bledsoe. "She doesn't deserve to be in worship with us. Get her away from here."
Master Smithee, her destiny-husband, takes her by the arm and leads her outside.
"Have they said their prayers?" Highest Holy Bledsoe demands to know.
"Yes, your highest holiness," answers Holy Simms.
"Wonderful," he declares to the congregation. "Prayers will keep you in the Great Master's Kingdom. They will save you from the evil that surrounds you at each instant, whispering in your ear not to listen to your Masters who
were handed the great burden by the Great Master to keep order on earth."
The Mister, who had come in with the rest of the Masters, eyes his wives and nods his head sternly. Then he tries to catch my eye, but I pretend I'm enthralled with Highest Holy Bledsoe. Finally, he gives up trying to get me to look at him and with frustration looks away.
"I called this service today because even though you are undeserving, I have a surprise for the girls."
Surprises rarely mean anything good. I wait with weariness for what he is about to spring on us.
"I just had a revelation yesterday when I was praying."
His revelations usually mean something horrible for us.
"The Great Master, in his infinite wisdom, told me that he needs his souls sooner."
What?!!! Is he going to kill us?
"He needs them a little sooner than how we've been furnishing them, so instead of giving them to him the day after your birthdays, we'll be giving them to him on your date of birth."
When we are brought to Paradise Village as children, we're asked for our birthdays. If we don't know them or our age, they're assigned to us. By thirty, it is ingrained in us that we need to leave earth. The helper-boys have it worse. Their cut-off date is twenty. Now the highest Elder is saying that we, including the boys, can't go even a day past those birthdays.
"It's great news, isn't it?--to reunite with your Great Master sooner!"
It took everything I had not to get up and tell the jerk what I actually thought. If it was that much of an honor then why weren't the Elders and the Masters being murdered at the same age we were? Why did this Great Master think so highly of these cruel idiots? Surely, a grand creator like him would see this game here in Paradise Village for what it was--a power hungry play!
Before letting us go to do our respective duties, they make the unmarried girls kneel down again for another prayer session. This time they want us to thank the Great Master for the revelation he gave Highest Holy Bledsoe. I, of course, do nothing of the kind.
When we finish our prayer session, I hurry to the Mister's property. I am already late for my chores because of Helga's stunt this morning with the dogs. The Mister hates for things not to be on schedule.
As I near his house, dread weighs heavily on me. I loathe going there even though his multi-story home is considered the best house in Paradise Village. On the outside, it's like an imposing mini-castle--blocky, gray, and dreary. The inside is no less welcoming with massive, heavy dark furniture that swallows up the rooms. I despise everything about the Barstowe household--being there is excruciating torture. If the Mister is around, all he does is stare at me and call me his Little Bird.
Uuuuck!
I don't look anything like a bird, and I don't belong to him! I belong to myself! Why can't the Elders understand that it's wrong for them to own us?
When I enter through the door, a much harsher reality than the hungry dogs comes face to face with me. It's not the Mister.
Her eyes gleam as they glare at me.
Her hands are crossed in front of her. Stacy is waiting for me with the Mister's discipline club in her hand and a smirk on her lips.