Sundry Days (13 page)

Chapter 24

David

A Chance Encounter

We look for the captain in the morning, but he’s not around.

“Doing business,” says Cal, the cook, between mouthfuls in the dining hall. Breakfast is included with the room rate, and he seems to be enjoying every minute of having someone else cook.

“We need to find him,” I say, after Rebekah and I sit down with him, our plates loaded with food from the buffet. Cal is the only Lost Boy in the dining hall. There’s a man sitting alone at another table.  He looks to be about the age of my fathers, and smiles at us. But otherwise the place is empty. Two Birch and Bay workers—both elderly males—are starting to sweep up and put things away. I don’t know what time it is, but it seems we’re the last wave of the breakfast crowd.

“Why do you need to find him?” asks Cal. “The captain’s got things to do, you know.  Places to go. Business to conduct. Transactions to make. That’s why we’re here.  Well, that’s why he’s here, anyway.”

“We need to ask him something,” says Rebekah. “When do you think he’ll be back?”

“Hey, you look different this morning, Red,” says Cal, ignoring her question. He looks her up and down while sipping his coffee.  “All shiny and bright. You too, Davey. Already had a little fun last night? What did you two get on such short notice?  A quickie hand job on the third floor?”

I nod. I figure it can’t hurt to let him think that. I looked at the list of services, just out of curiosity. What Cal’s talking about is one of the cheapest services:
“Five-minutes of pleasuring by expert female hands.”

I wonder what happens if it takes more than five-minutes. But I doubt that happens much.

Cal proceeds to tell us that most of the others have signed up for “full-immersions” today.

“Not me. Did it once a while back, and that was enough,” he says. But then he goes on to describe what his own, personal full-immersion was like.

“I always had this fantasy, you know, about two beautiful women, very young, pleasuring me every which way, pleasuring each other, then pleasuring me again. And that’s just what happened.

“Shit. I never had so much fun. Except it wasn’t real. Must have come about three times before the drug wore off. Maybe more. That was real enough. I can still remember some of the details. Helps to remember when you’re alone, you know? Everyone should try it at least once. You boys should try it while you’re here. But I prefer the real thing. Nothing beats the real thing, if you ask me.”

Cal can’t seem to stop talking.

“I got an appointment this afternoon with a living, breathing, flesh and blood woman on the third floor,” he says.

“Young, too. Not a gray hair on her head or anywhere else. The desk clerk gave me his word. It’s not like back home where you have to do it in the dark to disguise the fact that the pleasure lady is older than your grandma. And you have to take a bath and shave first. It’s required here. This place is known for that. At other places they don’t care. But here, they won’t do anything with you or to you unless you’re sparkling clean. One of the owners, Miss D., is a stickler about that, even though she doesn’t personally doesn’t provide any services. It’s her rule, the ladies say, when they check you. Go figure.”

I smile to myself, thinking Rebekah has something in common with Miss D.

Cal pauses in his recitation just long enough to gulp down some more food. He’s chattier now than he ever was on the ship. Wants to give us all the details of his last “real lady” encounter here.  Then he proceeds to describe some of the other places in Winnipeg that provide sexual services.

Although there aren’t more women in Winnipeg than there are anywhere else, they tend to band together instead of living with multiple husbands, according to Cal.  Some of them run establishments like the Birch and Bay, only smaller, and without offering lodging to travelers.  Some have jobs at factories or do other things for a living. If they feel like having sex or getting pregnant, there’s no shortage of men to choose from. They can get “courted,” he says, by as many as they want, whenever they want. But the men don’t live with them. It’s a very informal way of doing things, and totally up to the whims of the women. Not like in the Coalition.

It occurs to me that Miss D. has to be the woman the captain wants us to talk to.  So I ask Cal—just out of curiosity, I say—where Miss D. lives.

“Oh, Miss D. lives in that big house behind the Birch and Bay,” he says, “along with the four or five women who work here. They have kids, too. Mostly boys, of course. Boys have to go off on their own when they reach a certain age. But that house is totally off limits to customers. Men can’t just go knocking on Miss D.’s door unless they want their heads bashed in.”

Since it’s clear we can’t just go over and question Miss D. ourselves, and since the captain’s not likely to show up anytime soon, Rebekah and I decide to go for a walk.

Not many people are out and about, and there’s hardly any traffic on the main road through town. But there are various shops open for business, and when we see one that sells sundries, we go in.

After we pick out few items—a new razor for me, toothbrushes, that sort of thing— Rebekah looks around for sea sponges. Her supply is running low, and she doesn’t want to run out after we get to where we’re going. Wherever or whenever that might be.

Finally, she asks the clerk. She also asks him if he’s got any of the herbs she needs. He doesn’t raise an eyebrow, just gets them from the back and wraps our purchases in brown paper and string.

Strolling through the town, we pass by a few factories, a brewery, a school for boys, a couple of bars and restaurants, and a Church of the Designer. We also notice several establishments that, according to their signs, offer some of the same kinds of services as the Birch and Bay.

When we come to a store called the Ready to Wear Emporium, I suggest to Rebekah that we go in and spend some of our money on dry clothes.

“I don’t know about your shorts and socks,” I complain, “but mine are still damp. Body heat didn’t do the trick, like you said. Washing them in the tub last night was not a good idea, in my opinion. We would have been better off wearing them dirty.”

She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t object to more shopping.

We’re the only customers in the store until a man comes in who looks familiar. He’s the same man we saw at breakfast in the dining hall. While Rebekah is examining items on a table at the back, he walks over and starts talking to us.  It’s not as if he’s a complete stranger, and he seems friendly enough.

“You two with the captain?” he asks.

“Do you know him?” Rebekah pipes up.

“Well, I know of him. Everyone does around here. Winnipeg’s economy is dependent to some extent on the smugglers, and he’s one of the most persistent. They bring in lots of Coalition money. Me, I can do without it. My people rely on trade and bartering to get what’s needed.”

“Your people?” I ask.

“Forgive me. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Jacob Mack. I’m from Eden Falls, which is about three days northeast of here by horse and wagon—horse and wagon is how we usually come. But it’s only two hours by sun-cycle.  That’s how I came this time, by myself, to negotiate terms for our milled grain.”

I tell him my name. Rebekah introduces herself as Rob Fine.

“Rob is it?” says Jacob, looking at her quizzically. “Well, if there’s anything I can help you with, David and Rob, while you’re in town, let me know. I’m very familiar with the entire territory. Lived hereabouts my entire life.”

Rebekah and I look at each other. We’re both thinking the same thing.

For some reason, the two of us seem to attract strangers who end up helping us.  Harry and Todd gave us a place to stay when we first started out. And if it weren’t for Keira and Elizabeth, who knows what would have happened to Rebekah. Or me.

So we’re inclined to trust this man, Jacob Mack.

Rebekah asks him, just out of curiosity she says, if he’s familiar with any of the monogamist settlements.

“Well, you could say that,” he replies as a big grin spreads across his clean-shaven face. “Eden Falls is a place where people live the way we believe The Designer intends for us to live. Not like here or in the Coalition. For us, it’s one man, one woman, bound until parted by death.  We don’t call ourselves monogamists, though. We call ourselves The Righteous.”

“Do you welcome outsiders to Eden Falls?” asks Rebekah.

“Well, Rob,” he says, pausing before the word Rob, as if he already knows it’s not Rebekah’s name, “most outsiders think there’s something wrong with us.  We’ve heard that they call our way of life an abomination in the Coalition. Which we think is kind of ironic. In Winnipeg, people don’t seem as concerned. They trade with us, though they tend to keep their distance.  But, to answer your question, yes, we do welcome outsiders. Not everyone, though. Only young women and young men who’ve seen the light and are committed to living the way we do. By our rules.”

I don’t know if we’ve seen the light. Rebekah and I just want to be together. But maybe this man is our best chance to do that.

We purchase the items Rebekah has picked out—some underwear, socks, a few shirts—and head back to the Birch and Bay. Jacob Mack walks with us. He says he’s going back there, since he left his sun-cycle at the charging station next door. Which is where ours is parked, too. He tells us more about Eden Falls along the way.

It seems to be what we’ve been looking for.

Jacob says he sensed something special about us from the moment he saw us in the dining hall. He says he feels The Designer has sent him to meet us. I get the feeling he knows we’re not brothers, and has somehow come to the conclusion that Rebekah is not a boy. Otherwise why would he be so interested in telling us about his monogamist settlement?

Back at the Birch and Bay, Rebekah and I agree to meet Jacob in a couple hours. He says he’d like to talk with us more before he heads back to Eden Falls.

“What do you think we should do?” I ask when we’re back in our room.

“He knows I’m a girl, David.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“So should we go with him?  He seems real religious.”

“Well, maybe there’s nothing wrong with being religious.  Maybe it’s a good thing to be.  When Elizabeth was cutting into you, Rebekah, I was probably the most religious person alive.  And The Designer answered my prayers.”

We take off our clothes, including our damp underwear, and get comfortable in bed. Which leads to sex.  Which is good. It’s always good. But it’s clear we’ve both got something other than sex on our minds.

Finally, we decide that we’ll go downstairs and look for the captain again. But he’s nowhere to be found. When we run into Nick, he says the captain probably won’t be back until sundown, and that we should get packed up and be ready to leave in the morning.

Maybe the captain forgot about introducing us to Miss D. We go to the front desk and ask the clerk if he could get word to her that we need to see to her. He glares at us. We’re crazy, he says, if we think he’s going to bother Miss D. Why would she ever want to set eyes on two young punks like us?

If we wait for the captain it’ll be too late to go with Jacob, whose settlement sounds as if it’s just what we’re after.

Neither one of us knows what to do. So we go ahead and meet with Jacob in the lobby, when the time comes, and ply him with more questions.

Eden Falls is a farming commune, he says.  The people there also operate a dairy, a mill, a generating station, and try to be as self-sufficient as possible. The settlement has more men than women, of course.  But every woman has just one husband, Jacob emphasizes, and everyone respects the bonds of matrimony.

“You would both be very welcome,” he says, “as long as you commit to live as we do, and promise to remain monogamous if you marry.  And by the way,” he admits, “I know you’re not a boy, Rob.”

“My name is Rebekah,” she tells him. “I’m a trained nurse, and David is trained in engineering.”

Jacob looks as if he’s just received a special gift from The Designer.

“Well. That’s wonderful,” he says. “I’d be so pleased if you’d come home with me—make Eden Falls your home. I have to leave soon. I need to get back before dark. You could follow me there.”

I ask him if maybe we could go tomorrow, if he’d give us directions.

“Can’t be done, I’m afraid,” he says. “Eden Falls is near impossible to find unless you know just where you’re going. You’d never get there by yourselves. And I’d be more than sorry to lose you.”

Rebekah and I go back to the room to get our stuff.  We leave a note for the captain at the front desk.  We don’t run into anyone else from The Lady May.  Not that any of the Lost Boys would care very much that we’re deserting.

“You won’t regret this,” Jacob says as Rebekah and I mount the sun-cycle and then follow him to Eden Falls.

I hope he’s right.

Chapter 25

Rebekah

Eden Falls

Jacob is right. I don’t see how anyone could get to Eden Falls without knowing the route in advance.

We ride along a dirt path that twists and turns through a forest and around small streams. Whoever drives the horse-drawn wagon to Winnipeg must be very skillful.

Just before sunset, we approach the settlement, which is situated in a verdant valley beneath a huge waterfall that flows into a lake. It’s very beautiful from a distance.

As we get closer, Jacob points out the mill and generating station. And finally we come to the town proper—if Eden Falls can be called a town. Built within shouting distance of each other, in a sort of semi-circle, are maybe a dozen sizable two-story houses constructed of wood, with wood shingle roofs. At the center of the semi-circle is what appears to be a church or meeting hall. Farther out are some barns and other buildings, a pasture with horses and cows, and, in the distance, fields for growing grain and other crops.

We park behind the meeting hall, where three other sun-cycles are lined up at a charging station.  By the time we walk around to the front of the building, a group of men, who all look as old or older than Jacob, have gathered. I also notice some children standing off to the side, but no women.

“Brothers,” Jacob tells the welcoming committee, “The Designer has truly blessed us. Meet Rebekah and David. They’re joining us. Rebekah has been posing as a boy to avoid plural marriage in the Coalition. But be assured, she’s a girl.”

I dust myself off, stand very close to David, and try to smile.

Some of the men smile back, some don’t. But I feel every eye studying me as if I were a newly discovered life form.

“The girl looks as if she’s been used,” says one of the men who doesn’t smile.

That sounds like an insult to me.  But I don’t say anything. I just grab David’s hand.

“She’s made the decision to live a rightful life,” Jacob says. “So has David here. And that’s the main thing. We can sort everything out when we have a meeting.  Do you want to have a meeting now or in the morning?”

They decide on now, so we all go into the meeting house, which is one big room with a center aisle and rows of benches on either side. There are small, clear windows on opposite walls, but it’s growing dark outside. Someone turns on the light, and everyone takes a seat.  David and I are told to sit on a bench at the front, facing the others, and Jacob stands next to us. Then the questions begin.

“How old is the girl?”

“I’m almost 20,” I say. There’s some murmuring.

“Rebekah tells me she’s been trained as a nurse,” says Jacob. “And   David has mechanical skills. He can be very useful at the mill and hydro-works.”

“Have they been living in sin?”

I don’t like this question. I don’t like the tone of any of the questions and comments.

“We intend to get married as soon as possible,” says David. “We’ve always intended to, it just wasn’t possible until now.”

I slide closer to him on the bench until our arms are touching. I hold his hand very tightly.

No one responds to what David has said.  The men just start talking amongst themselves.

“Where are they to live?” someone finally asks out loud.  And Jacob takes the lead again.

“I thought David could stay with me for now, so I can get him acclimated. And maybe Brother Walter, if you’re willing, you could take Rebekah to your house and have your Sally look after her until we decide what to do with her.”

“Wait a minute,” I protest loudly. “You’re not going to do anything with me. David and I stay together. That’s why we came here. So we could be together always. We’re only going to stay together.”

“That’s right,” asserts David, backing me up in a very firm voice. We’re both pretty worried at this point. He puts his arm around my shoulders and holds me close to his side.

“There’s no way we’re going to separate places” he says.  “We’ll camp out for now if we have to. Or we’ll go back to Winnipeg as soon as we can charge our sun-cycle. But we’re staying together.”

“Now, David, you can’t go back to Winnipeg. And only people who are rightfully wed can be together.  I thought you understood that,” Jacob tells him calmly, in a tone that might be used to correct a small child. “You and Rebekah are not rightfully wed. That’s a fact. And no one lives in sin in Eden Falls.”

What are we going to do?  This isn’t what we planned. This is terrible. Worse than terrible. But maybe we’re over-reacting. Maybe they just don’t want us sleeping together until we’re married.  That’s not unreasonable. Maybe we just have to respect their customs. 

“We’ll be happy to get rightfully wed right now, however you do it here.  Or as soon as possible.” My voice is shaky, but I jut out my chin and refuse to cry.

“The way we do it here, is the way The Designer intends,” replies Jacob. He sounds as if he’s losing patience. “And right now The Designer intends, and we intend, for you to do what you’re told.”

“So how long will we have to wait?” asks David.

“Wait for what?” grumbles one of the men.

“The young fool thinks he’s going to get to keep the girl,” says another. “What have you brought us, Jacob?  He’s going to be more trouble than he’s worth, and she looks too ornery to tame.”

“The boy brings skills.  The girl, too.  And we need fresh breeding stock. We‘ve all agreed that’s what we need.  When I was in Winnipeg, it was as if The Designer Himself sent these two directly to me. I felt His hand in this.

There’s no more arguing tonight. The men agree to Jacob’s plan for our temporary living arrangements. David is grabbed by two of the bigger men, who take him by the elbows and lead him away. He looks back at me in desperation.

Walter, who appears to be the oldest of the men, takes me roughly by the arm and half-drags me to his house. Several of the children follow.

A young woman opens the door. I figure she must be Walter’s daughter. I figure wrong.

“Wife,” he says, “take this girl and lock her up with Willa.”

“Girl?” The woman thinks I’m a boy. Who can blame her?

Then Walter, who’s holding my arm so tightly that it hurts, gets an inspiration.

“We’d better strip her first to make sure.”

He drags me to a bedroom, and the woman follows. I scream, kick and claw at him, but it’s no use.

“Stop that,” he orders. “I don’t want to beat you on your first night here, but I will if I have to.”

He holds me down while the woman—who doesn’t say a word but looks at me as if she’s sorry—peels off all my clothes.

Walter’s old, but not so old that he isn’t also disgusting.  He leers at me, as I curl my naked body into a ball on the floor.

“Get her dressed,” he orders the woman. “Put something decent on her.  Then lock her up with Willa.”

After he leaves the room, the woman comes over and tries to soothe me.

“Hush now,” she says, patting my shoulder. “Be calm. Crying won’t help.”

She gives me a shapeless, long sleeved brown dress to wear, like the one she’s got on. It’s made of a rough, itchy fabric, and covers me from neck to toes. But it’s better than being naked.

“I’m sorry for you, honey,” she says. “But you better just do what you’re told from now on if you don’t want to get beat.”

I stare at her in contempt. David and I have been betrayed. Tricked.  It’s our own fault. My face is wet with tears, my nose is running. I’m terrified. I want to die. I want David. I want to scream. But what would be the use?  We’ve been fools. And now we’re doomed. I’m doomed.

“My name is Sally,” the woman says. “I’m the mother of this house. I’ll try to help you get adjusted the best I can. But you better just make up your mind to accept your fate.  Pray to The Designer for comfort.  That’s the only comfort you’re going to get from now on.”

She takes me to a small, dark room, turns on the light, and I see a girl sitting up on a narrow bed.  There’s no other furniture.”

“Mama?” she says, blinking.

“Willa, honey, this is Rebekah.  She’s new.  She’ll be staying with us for a while. She can keep you company while you wait to be wed. And you can help teach her about Eden Falls.”

Then Sally turns out the light, closes the door, and locks it.