Obloquy

  Chapter Six

  Dad and Greg were at my hearing. One glance Greg’s way told me that he wasn’t as keen on going through with this as Dad. Dad was pissed though and wasn’t about to back down.

  When Judge Whitteker asked me as to why I stole from my own father and church, I told the truth – That living with such a controlling father and husband was pure hell and I would do anything short of murder to be free of them.

  I could see by the look in the elderly judge’s gray eyes after scanning my father’s stern, cold face and my reluctant-to-comment husband that he felt kind of sorry for me. However, he had to abide by the law in passing sentence. At one point he did ask Dad if he was sure he wanted to follow through with the charges, and Dad didn’t hesitate in replying that he did.

  I had a court-appointed attorney, but when the petite Asian female by the name of Doris Lee asked me how I wanted to plea, I said that I was guilty.

  I was sentenced to a month in the county jail. I know that the sentence could have been more severe, but it was more than apparent that Judge Whitteker didn’t really feel I belonged there.

  Although I knew that Greg wasn’t as bent on punishing me as my father, he still didn’t have the balls to stand up for me. So, when he tried to come visit me in jail, I refused to see him. As far as I was concerned, we were done.

  Greg did have a letter delivered to me in jail. He said he loved me and that he was sorry for all that had happened; that he knew he was just as much to blame as anyone. He also hoped that I would come back to him after I was released from jail, but he did understand if I should choose not to. He also told me that the door would always be open, and if I chose not to stay with him, that I could pick up my things whenever I was released. I didn’t bother to reply, but I felt a little better, knowing that I could get my things without an argument.

  I felt that Greg did speak from the bottom of his heart, but I knew all too well from past experience that he could change and be good to me – for a while – and then he would, most likely, revert back to his old behavior, once he felt as though we were on solid ground again. I had been there and done that more than once, and it was one time too many for me. It was like the old saying, ‘Trick me once, shame on you. Trick me twice, shame on me.’

  I wasn’t sure where I would go when I was released. There were numerous parishioners I could have stayed with had I not been labeled a common criminal, but I was sure no one would take me in now; positive Dad had made me out to be the worst of sinners.

  The only person I felt I might confide in was Nancy. I hoped, oh how I hoped, she was still working for Baskin Robbins and knew of some place I could stay, and where I might possibly find a job.

  Of course, there was Erick, but I wasn’t entirely sure just who he was. What’s more, I had no clue how to get in touch with him, other than maybe hanging out around the park. There were no guarantees with that scenario either. Just because he had been good to me in the past, didn’t mean he would take me in.

  The day I was released, I went straight to Baskin Robbins only to learn that Nancy had moved away. I also quickly learned that the middle-aged Hispanic woman I spoke with had taken Nancy’s place. There were no more openings. Discouraged, I slowly walked to my car. At least, I still had that. Problem was, I had no money, and when the half tank of gas ran out, I wouldn’t be able to buy anymore. So, not knowing what else to do, I drove to the park that I had run to before. There were a couple of parking areas. I could, at least, park my car there during the day. I wasn’t sure if I could stay there at night, though.

  I almost wished I could go back to jail. There, I had a roof over my head and regular meals, even though they weren’t always that good. Still, it beat going hungry.

  I had been apprehensive to return to the house in spite of Greg’s making it clear that I was welcome. I still felt uneasy about seeing him. Most of all, I did not want to see my father. By now, I truly despised him. In fact, I was pretty sure that I had no love for him at all anymore. He had, quite successfully, killed it.

  I did have my iPhone that Greg had been nice enough to keep the bill paid – which I fully intended to reimburse him for – and a car charger. It was something to do. I went online and began searching the web. I came across the Joy of Satan website. It had been elaborately done and caught my eye right away. The inverted pentacle in red sparkled and turned as though it were a chime in the wind. I’m not exactly sure why I remained there for any length of time, considering my strict Christian upbringing. But then, maybe that was the very reason I was compelled to continue.

  Nothing else had worked for me in any positive way.

  Not Christianity and certainly not Wicca! That had backfired big time!

  I’m not certain what really came over me at that moment: defiance, anger, hatred, and complete loss of faith, whatever. Then maybe it was all those things combined? I feverishly began reading all the testimonials on how dedicating to Satan had changed lives for the better. I couldn’t believe it! How could dedicating to Satan possibly make one’s life better? The thought of dedicating to such a powerful being that I had been brought up to believe was the very epitome of evil simply terrified me.

  Still, compelled, I read on.

  What this website was saying was that the stories of the Bible had things all twisted around – that Satan was actually the good God! What? I realized I was shaking, I was so unglued. How was this possible?

  There was something about the tree of knowledge actually being a metaphor for the Kundalini Serpent. What, I asked myself, is the Kundalini Serpent? I read on to see that it is this part of creation, of our true spirituality, that lives inside all of us. And if one opens themselves up enough that the serpent will rise and we will suddenly awaken to the true realities of the universe and creation. That, in essence, we all had to potential to reach godhood!

  What’s more, Satan not only wanted, but still wants, this for all of us.

  The other religions of the world had been keeping this knowledge from mankind for thousands of years. Why?

  To control the masses out of fear!

  My first reaction to all this was fear. I got off the website and sat there trembling. I couldn’t believe that I had let myself read that much.

  What was wrong with me?

  I’m not sure how long I sat there, doing my best to process all that I had read, and that was only the beginning. There was much more information on that website; something about Ea (pronounced Arya) being Satan’s real name.

  I suddenly had the urge to pee really badly. I stuck my phone in the hip pocket of my jeans and got out of my car, locking it, and headed for the brick building about half a block to my left where the bathrooms were. It was pretty dark inside, in spite of the many lamps situated around the park. There weren’t any inside. I did manage to relieve myself though, and then promptly washed my hands and dried them the best I could with one of those blow driers. I always hated those things. Paper towels worked far better. But I could see where it might be more economical money-wise and tidy-wise to not have a bunch of paper around.

  I stepped just out the door, and someone to my right said hello. I snapped my head around. “Erick!”

  Again in jogging attire and his hair in a ponytail, he smiled warmly from where he stood, leaning with his back against the building. He’d been waiting for me! “Kind of late for a young woman to be alone in the park,” he said, eyebrow hiked questioningly.

  “I have no place else to go,” I honestly replied.

  “There are shelters. But I admit that they aren’t necessarily the best places to stay.”

  “I know. I’ve seen them when doing charity work for the church.”

  He sniggered slightly as though he found something funny.

  “What?”

  “Not laughing at you, Brenda. Just at the irony of it all.”

  “Irony of what?”

  “The world. The corruptness. One: churches supposedly helping the needy and homeless but on
ly if they will come to their church. Two: Once they get the poor souls there, they call them sinners and make them feel even worse about themselves than they already do. But, if they will confess their ‘sins’ to the Lord, etc…etc… then they will be forgiven! But they have to live a life of self-denial.”

  I was astounded by Erick’s words. And I wondered at the timing. Did he know what I had been doing before I went to the bathroom?

  He turned his bright blue eyes – and yes, they were very bright for it to be night – to me and said, “It’s all a big joke, you know?”

  “Ah… I’ not sure what you mean?”

  “Think about it. Sex is frowned upon and promoted as evil. Yet, without sex mankind wouldn’t be here. And not only mankind, but the rest of life! Sex is the generative, creative power of existence! There is absolutely nothing wrong with sex! The true evil is the ugly, twisted and perverted ideas driven into the minds of unknowing souls.”

  I think my jaw dropped about a foot.

  He grinned at my reaction but continued. “There’s that double standard that I’m sure you are all too aware of. It’s okay for a man to look but not for the woman, so forth and so on. A man can have an affair and it pretty much be overlooked, but not a woman. And the Christian church is not the worst. Just look at the news. There are other religions far worse.”

  I hadn’t been paying too much attention to the news lately, but I had heard about all the warfare going on overseas. I nodded yes.

  “You know, stifling the natural urge for sex is not only harmful for your body, it stops your spirit from growing.”

  Remembering what I had read about the Kundalini, my eyes widened at that. “Say what?”

  Again, he apparently found my astonishment somewhat amusing. He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You’re tired. Why don’t I walk you back to your car? If you want, I can stay with you until morning?”

  I wasn’t sure how to react to his offer.

  “Don’t worry, Brenda. You will be more than safe with me. I will sit in the back seat while you get some z’s. How does that sound?”

  For some reason I knew I could trust him. I nodded yes. “That would be awesome. Thanks!”

  He laid an arm around my shoulder and escorted me back to my car. There he slipped into the backseat, and I slid in the front. I turned and looked at him. “You sure you’ll be okay back there? You’re kind of tall, and this is a Kia Rio, not one of the bigger cars.”

  “I’ll be fine. You just get some rest.” He winked at me then and stretched out the best he could with his long legs and leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  “Okay… Night.”

  “Night,” he responded without opening his eyes.

  I woke up right before dawn and he was still there, apparently sleeping. At least, he appeared to be. So I fell back to sleep. When morning came and the sun was out bright I woke up again to find him gone.

  “Okay,” I said to myself. “I never even heard the door open.”

  I sat there briefly, trying to get my bearings. I needed to pee again. So I got out and made it to the bathroom and back. I desperately needed to bathe and change clothes. I decided that maybe I could find a restroom at a service station and sponge bathe there. I didn’t trust cleaning up in the park bathroom, as there were no closed doors on the outside. Just short brick walls that turned the corner until you entered the bathroom. Doors on the stalls, but that was all.

  I slid back into my car and started the ignition. That was when I was startled by a knuckle knocking on my window – Greg! I shook my head no. I didn’t want to talk to him.

  “Please! Just hear me out,” he begged.

  I rolled down the window. “I’m not coming back to you, Greg. Don’t even try to talk me into it.”

  He looked hurt, but didn’t let that deter him. “That’s not why I’m here, Brenda. I wasn’t able to sleep at all last night, wondering where you were and if you were okay.”

  “Really?” I said flatly, not sure I believed him.

  “I had a feeling you might be here at the park. So I decided to come look. And here you are.”

  “And I’m about to leave.”

  “Please! Just let me finish?”

  I exhaled with frustration but said okay.

  “I am not asking you to come back to me. And I know you don’t want to be my wife anymore. But, as someone who does care about your wellbeing, I can’t just sit back and wonder if you are in an alley somewhere… possibly hurt… or worse… dead.”

  “What are you getting at, Greg?”

  “I told you before that the door is open to you.”

  I shook my head adamantly. “I appreciate that, but I’m not coming back!”

  “Not asking you to come back to me. Just asking you to take advantage of my offer of a place for you to stay until you get a job and can get your own place.”

  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that.”

  “I promise not to try and get you back! Just be free to bathe, fix yourself meals, etc. Don’t even worry about cooking for me. And you can stay as long as it takes for you to get on your feet. Promise! No strings attached!”

  I could see in his eyes that he was sincere. He meant it. “But you can’t stop Dad from trying… Greg, I won’t put up with Dad.”

  “I talked to him already. Told him I wanted you to have a safe haven, and without our bothering you. I admit, it took some doing, but he finally agreed.”

  I blew out air and looked off at some crows in the tops of a tall tree. I did want a decent bath something awful. I turned back to his hopeful face. It would make him feel better if I agreed. And I realized that part of it was his being able to live with himself. As a devout Christian he couldn’t justify himself in knowing he didn’t try everything he could to keep his wife safe. “Okay,” I finally said. “But only until I get a job and my own place.”

  He closed his eyes in gratitude. “Thank you, Jesus!”

  “I’ll be over that way in a few minutes.”

  Eyes open again, he smiled with great relief. “Okay. See you then.”

  Truth was, I wanted to drive around the park and see if I could spot Erick anywhere, even though he’d probably gone on home. Wherever that was? I didn’t see him, of course, so I drove on to the house.

  Greg was standing outside Dad’s house talking to him in what I could see was kind of a heated argument, but he smiled and waved for me to pull on in, so I did. I wasted not a second in getting out of the car and letting myself inside. Fresh coffee was made. I rushed over and helped myself to a cup. A caffeine fix was something I really needed at that moment.

  Greg came in then smiling marginally, but I could see things weren’t just right.

  “Dad’s not happy, is he?”

  “Not really. But he’s agreed to keep his promise.” He helped himself to coffee and joined me at the table. “There are eggs and bacon, if you want to cook yourself breakfast? I already ate.”

  “Maybe in a little bit, Greg. I just want to sit here and savor this coffee and then I’m going to take a long hot shower.”

  He sat there for another minute or two and finished off his coffee. I know he wanted to say more, but also understood that there wasn’t anything that was going to change my mind. He stood and gently laid his hand on my shoulder. “Gonna go discuss Sunday morning’s sermon with your father. Just make yourself at home. You know where everything is.”

  “I do. Thank you, Greg!” I said, allowing myself to smile.

  That seemed to make him happy. “You’re welcome.” He left and headed across the way to the church.