Duplis?de (eBook)

5

Maxine peeled off her stained and ripped clothing. While the soup and coffee warmed her belly, her body remained cold and aching. She slid into a deep porcelain tub filled to her chin with steaming hot water. Sinking low, so the water covered her ears, Maxine allowed her head to float, face upright out of the water. The hot water stung her wounds, but it soothed her aching body. Too tired to scrub up, she allowed herself to doze.

Maxine awakened to cool water. How long had she slept? Leaning forward, she reached for the plug and partially drained the tub water. Turning the antique nob to allow hot, fresh water in, she wondered about the wealthy people during the Victorian era who had Lady’s Maids to assist them with their bathing. Oh, how she wished for a Lady’s Maid now! She was just too tired to do the work of bathing! With wishes for a maid set to the side, and the bath water once again piping hot, Maxine reached for the bar soap and loofa and began to tend her wounds.

A chill ran down her spine despite the steaming hot water filling the tub. While the quaint farmhouse bathroom presented a cozy effect, Maxine knew the reality was not cozy at all - but cold. The hitmen hired by Systems I would not stop looking for her. Nor would she give up the thumb drive she had intercepted. Systems I owned the local community.

She knew of nowhere she could go for help where Systems didn’t have their reach. Her husband, Rich, often spoke of the power, money, and control they had over the vicinity. An ungodly amount of control. Now, Maxine realized he was not using a euphemism to describe the so-called ungodly reach of the company. He was serious. The powers that be were much more sinister than she had ever imagined.

***

Rich stepped out of the office building into the crisp fall air. He missed his wife. Maxine was always a good strong wife and true to their marriage. She was a happy woman whose smile shone with the love of Christ. Rich frowned and wondered what it would be like to know God that way or at all. For so many years, he had acted the role of a picture-perfect Christian to make her happy, to convince her it was real. How was he to ever know that she would become entangled in his work? Now it was too late, and she had everything she needed to reveal the truth and bring down an empire. Now she knew the truth about him, too. He wished he could have been honest with her.

As Rich entered what was once his home with Maxine, having thought his way all the way home, his heart ached. The house was lonely without her there to share life with him. Memories of many years of smiles, laughter, and some tears, echoed like ghosts between the empty space where his wife was not. Every nook and corner of their home told stories of the life they built together. Every nuance showed Maxine’s personal touch to their home. Elegant wallpaper graced the walls of an equally elegant, perfect living room. The elegance, a distinct dichotomy to the hunting, hiking, survivalist who was his wife.

A smile of sadness and mirth spanned Rich’s face as he remembered her insistence on the rose print wallpaper and his teasing her about it. He spent time with the memory. Her flashing blue eyes and whipping red hair, an account for her temper as he teased her, his country bumpkin that wanted flowered wallpaper.

Rich sighed. Now she was gone. She would probably never grace the halls of their home with her presence again. Rich shrugged off the memories. He supposed if he got too lonely the System had any number of women available to him at the snap of his fingers, but infidelity had never seemed right to him. Heck, he was embarrassed to see an inappropriate picture, tv show, or billboard.

Rich chuckled to himself. Who was he to determine right from wrong? His whole life had been lived a lie, and now that he wanted out, it would take death to fulfill his wishes. And what after that? He and Maxine had spent all their years talking of the wonders of eternal life in heaven. For so many years they spoke of it, but now he was terrified of it. His afterlife would be eternal hell. He knew that if Maxine didn’t die, if he couldn’t finish the job, then he would die. Or maybe both of them.

He screwed up. If he was to die, he couldn’t even imagine the terror he would face. On the other hand, if Maxine died, she would have a glorious afterlife. If she lived, she’d be hounded by the System for the rest of her life. There was only one way out for her. He would kill her. The System would like that. If he killed her, he could be sure she didn’t suffer. He could put her away quickly and quietly. She had been a good wife. He could do her this favor. He would spare her torture here and give her eternity.

With that ending thought, Rich dropped his coat and bags on the floor and walked into his living room. He lit a single candle and lay in front of it, prostrate on the floor, and began to speak a mumble jumble of unintelligible words rotely -and lost himself in the System. A small black spider named Venality spun her web in the corner of the room. Rich did not notice.

***

The small farmhouse was cozy warm from the centrally located, wood-burning, potbelly cast-iron stove. Now bathed and dressed in a pair of hand-me-down flannels, Maxine had no reason to feel chilly, although the elderly lady still made her nervous. She thought about Rich. Right now, he would be walking through the front door of their suburban home, dropping his coat and bags on the floor and lying on the floor of the living room to “relax” as he called it.

Maxine’s mind wandered across the memories of many happy years. Too happy? Perhaps. She could not remember even one argument, although she recalled many memories of Rich teasing her just to see her red-headed temper flair. They had shared the picture-perfect marriage as successful upper-class Americans. Or so she thought. Who could have asked for more?

Maxine recalled what was. The hikes, the hunting, the foraging. The house remodel. Her mind wandered over the more intimate moments they shared then shifted to less emotional memories of church friends and the good times spent with them. Now her world was insanely different. She had been stripped of everything good and everything essential. The God she had always praised and prayed thanks to for the blessed life she had now had to be the God of sustenance, healing, strength, and protection. Could she believe in that kind of God?

***

Chloe ended a phone call with Gracie and laid her baby down for her mid-day nap. She prayed. She washed her dishes and prayed. The phone rang. Chloe and Gracie spoke again. The conversation ended. She prayed. The baby woke up, lunchtime, Chloe prayed. 10 PM. It’s time for bed. Still, Chloe prayed.

Three lots down the street, a light was on. Inside, a small group gathered. There was no cheery laughter. All faces were somber, for the matters at hand were serious. So serious they were, and they prayed. 12 AM, they prayed. 2 AM, then 5 AM passed. They prayed. 10 AM the next morning came and went, and still, they prayed.

***

Maxine awoke with a start. Gracie stood over her bed with her hands upon Maxine’s head, praying. Maxine strained against the older woman, trying to sit up, but Gracie’s grip was firm on her. Panic filled Maxine as she remembered the strange babbling of the lady, the locked door, and now this.

A light filled her room, and a being appeared, barely perceptible to the naked eye. Its robe was not made of cotton or linen or any earthly thing. Was it made of…feathers? Millions of tiny feathers glowed the same brilliance as the angel himself. Was she awake, or was she dreaming?

A warm sensation spilled through her. Peace and strength ran through the very fibers of her broken body and spirit. The beautiful being began to fade. The warm sensation that had washed over her waned. Once again, Maxine fell into a deep sleep.

***

Rich lay awake, another night spent staring at the ceiling. What was this feeling he had? The darkness of living in the System had been with him for so long that this fleeting moment of peace felt completely alien to him. The moment of peace seemed to have something to do with Maxine. She must be ok, or he wouldn’t have this feeling now, right? And what, he thought, had been a visitation by something other than a source within the System left him to believe that a more pure and powerful being had been present just now. But why him? Why here?

Rich pulled himself out of bed and went to the kitchen for a cold beer. The nighttime shadows loomed over him in an eerie manner, which he was sure, was enhanced by his imagination. If Maxine was here, everything would be all right. Her presence always provided him with the safety she was sure he was providing for her. A wave of guilt swept over him. She had never been safe. Eighteen years of marriage had been a lie, and now it was over.

A half-empty beer bottle shattered against the wall, and its remnants ran down Maxine’s cheery rose-patterned wallpaper, staining it. She had no idea that he was an alcoholic. His adoration of her caused him to painstakingly hide it from her for years. He never wanted to hurt her. He was just doing his job. She always believed that he looked unwell because he worked too many hours.

Then she would pray for God to heal him, and he would play the game of...