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    Refugium
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Sinister - 6. Chapter 6

The attack and the aftermath.

Jesse Davis stayed at the wheel after bringing the pickup truck to a sudden stop. The other three poured out: Toby, Gabe with baseball bat in hand, and another boy of their crowd, Paul Cox. Sam and Glen stood back to back.

Naomi tried to run. Paul caught her by the arm and threw her toward the truck.

Gabe came for Sam. "You've got some nerve coming anywhere near Rachel. Stay away from her!" He swung. Sam ducked and tried to block the blow with his arms. The bat hit his right wrist with a crack, glanced off, and connected with the back of Glen's head. Glen yelled and fell forward.

Ruth ran from behind Gabe and tackled him, sending him sprawling on the ground. Noah picked up the bat and held it in front of him. Gabe turned onto his side. Sam kicked him in the stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

Toby and Paul moved in closer to Noah. Naomi planted her feet, extended her left arm and pointed her fingers at them. In a low, menacing voice she chanted:

"Fool faddam fye

Die fadda lye

Zaviz-bonza korala myde!"

Toby and Paul stopped. "Shit!" Paul said, starting to back up.

"I told you they'd put a hex on us," Toby said.

Noah glanced at Naomi, then extended his left hand along the bat and chanted with her:

"Fool faddam fye

Die fadda lye

Zaviz-bonza korala myde!"

They kept repeating the spell. Toby and Paul turned and ran.

Ruth leaned into the truck. "Jesse, you are taking us to Valley Medical, or I swear I will put such a hex on you."

Jesse was shaking. "Yeah, yeah, of course. I didn't want this. I didn't want anybody to get hurt. It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Ruth said to the others, "We shouldn't move Glen, but we have to. Put down your coats in the back and lay him on them. Keep him warm."

Noah, Naomi and Sam laid their coats down and lifted Glen onto the bed of the pickup. Glen groaned.

Gabe was showing signs of being able to move again, so Noah gave him another kick in the stomach before joining Sam and Naomi on the truck's bed.

Sam laid Ruth's coat on top of Glen. "That's it, keep groaning. Stay with us. Look at me. Stay awake."

Ruth sat in the passenger seat. Jesse started the truck slowly, then accelerated as smoothly as he could.

"Have a nice walk back to town," Sam called to Gabe, who was still struggling to breathe. Then he turned to Naomi and asked, "What the heck was that?"

She stared at him. "Shakespeare. The Tempest. You know, 'Full fathom five thy father lies.' Don't you pay attention in class?"

Noah pulled a coat closer around Glen. "Safe bet those guys didn't."

"I'm just a freshman," Sam said. "I haven't read The Tempest. I could have joined you if you'd done the witches' scene from Macbeth."

"Nah, even these idiots probably would have recognized that."

Sam was impressed. "That was great, pulling that out on the spur of the moment."

Naomi hugged herself in the cold wind. "Well, I had been practicing, just in case I ever have to make a living at it. I've got some great stuff from Paradise Lost. I just pronounce it the way our Spanish teacher would."

************

Reverend Farrow talked quietly with his attorney Ezra Collins in front of the buzzing crowd at the church. Collins was short, with a head that seemed to have settled down into his shoulders and neck, and tall, gaunt Farrow had to stoop to hear him.

Gabe Watson's mother sat next to Toby Marsden's mother. She held a handkerchief to her eye, saying, "Of course we don't approve of the lifestyle of those--" and she whispered, "left -handers," then raised her voice again, "but I never dreamed Gabe would do anything violent."

Sam held his bandaged wrist and said to himself again and again, You never should have trusted anyone. His mother was looking around her as if at a room full of strangers.

His father sat with his face in his hands. "Sam, you lied to us."

"Yes, Pa. I did. I'm sorry, but I figured I pretty much had to."

Mr. Swift shook his head. "Well, no point in going over it again right now."

Behind him, Ruth asked Naomi, "How did they know where to find us?"

Naomi's voice was shaky. "I think it might have been me."

"What? How?"

"Ben wanted to go out last night and I told him I was busy doing something with friends. He asked what. He kind of caught me off guard. I said we were just going north of town to look at the stars."

"You think he told them?"

"Maybe. I've been getting the feeling I can't trust him. I'm not going out with him any more."

"Naomi, don't worry about it. That spell you cast more than made up for it."

"Yeah. Know you enemy's weaknesses, and all that."

The pastor and the attorney nodded and separated. Farrow moved to the lectern.

"Quiet, please. We have a very serious matter before us. Last night there was an incident out on Highland Road."

The murmur started again.

"Please, let me speak. Some of our students were injured in an altercation. I have engaged the services of Mr. Ezra Collins, a fine attorney you all know, to represent the four boys, Gabriel Watson, Jesse Davis, Tobias Marsden, and Paul Cox, who clearly acted in self-defense."

"What??" Sam's mother jumped to her feet.

Now there was no containing the shouts of the crowd.

Reverend Farrow's booming voice cut through. "They were in fear of their lives. Spells were being cast. Witchcraft was being used. One of the spells paralyzed Gabriel Watson."

Sam's mother stepped forward. "Four star athletes armed with a baseball bat come after younger kids, and you call it self-defense? A boy is lying in ICU at Valley Medical and my son has a broken wrist as a result of Gabe Watson's 'self-defense'?"

Sam had never seen or heard his mother like this.

Reverend Farrow held his hands forward. "Mrs. Swift, I know you're upset."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Sarah, sit down." Mr. Swift reached toward her.

"I will not sit down."

Farrow continued, "The sheriff's office is investigating the incident to determine if any criminal charges are warranted. Meanwhile, the church will be conducting its own investigation. While we do, we are strongly recommending that the students Samuel Swift, Naomi Green, Ruth Morris and Noah Blackburn be confined to their homes for four months or until cleared by the church council." A strong recommendation from Farrow was effectively an order.

The meeting was deteriorating into shouts and accusations. Sam rocked back and forth. Four months' confinement! Softly, as if just to himself, he started singing:

Tell old Farrow, Let my people go.

He sang it a few times. Naomi, Ruth and Noah joined him. Their voices got louder. Then Mrs. Swift sang strong and clear:

When Israel was in Egypt's land,

and the four young left-handers sang with her:

Let my people go.

Rachel North joined them:

Oppressed so hard they could not stand,

Mr. Swift and Naomi's parents and Ruth's and Noah's joined:

Let my people go.

Reverend Farrow was ordering everyone to sit down. He called for silence, in vain. Mr. Tubman and a number of other joined to sing:

Go down, Moses,

Way down in Egypt's land.

Tell old Farrow,

Let my people go.

It didn't stop the yelling in the room. In fact, something close to a riot was erupting. The singing wasn't beautiful. Everyone seemed to be in a different key. But it was the first time anyone could recall that Reverend Farrow commanded silence from a Hillcrest crowd and didn't get it.

************

Mrs. Swift waited in the lobby of Valley Medical after driving Sam there. She thought about how much flak she was going to get from Reverend Cooper for it.

Glen had been released from ICU. The nurse warned Sam to keep his visit very brief. Sam pulled the privacy curtain aside.

"Kinda hard to knock on a curtain."

Glen moved a hand in a weak wave.

"We missed our appointment."

Glen blinked.

"We're going to get out. We'll get out if we have to walk."

Glen's lips moved.

"What?"

Glen whispered, "Libra -- truck scales. Aquarius -- bridge."

"I'll remember, Glen. Even if you can't get another radio. We'll come back for you. I promise."

Glen smiled.

Next: How to proceed?
Copyright © 2016 Refugium; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

There is no easy way to resolve this situation, -any solution will cause pain for
someone else it seems. This wicked, self-serving zealot Rev. Farrow needs to be
disabled or removed from power. That won't likely happen though, unless some
some sort of scandal involving him emerges. Such people as him almost always
have some big sins hidden in their lives. Egomaniacs make the rules; so they truly
believe that they're above these rules so they feel that they alone can break them.

 

Let's find this man's sin and expose him. Ruin that evil creepy dude! I'd love to
discover the vile sin that he's hiding. This sin needs to be something creative.
Fraud or an extramarital affair are too mundane for this story. It needs to be
something bizarre or nutzo, -and so shockingly taboo that these bible-thumpers
will fall out of their prayer benches and never go back. You could have a little fun
with that too. Then you could give him a weird and ironically strange death.

 

You were seriously asking a question in your ending comment, weren't you?
If not, then never mind...

On 05/24/2016 07:39 PM, Stephen said:

There is no easy way to resolve this situation, -any solution will cause pain for

someone else it seems. This wicked, self-serving zealot Rev. Farrow needs to be

disabled or removed from power. That won't likely happen though, unless some

some sort of scandal involving him emerges. Such people as him almost always

have some big sins hidden in their lives. Egomaniacs make the rules; so they truly

believe that they're above these rules so they feel that they alone can break them.

 

Let's find this man's sin and expose him. Ruin that evil creepy dude! I'd love to

discover the vile sin that he's hiding. This sin needs to be something creative.

Fraud or an extramarital affair are too mundane for this story. It needs to be

something bizarre or nutzo, -and so shockingly taboo that these bible-thumpers

will fall out of their prayer benches and never go back. You could have a little fun

with that too. Then you could give him a weird and ironically strange death.

 

You were seriously asking a question in your ending comment, weren't you?

If not, then never mind...

He could turn out to be left-handed. But I do like the idea of something bizarre. Now you've inspired me; the ideas I've been mulling seem too mundane. I hate to drag the bighorn sheep into this, but if I must...

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