For the Father (Parts One - Ten)

I saw her through the dusty slits of the metal blinds. Her blonde hair was cropped short and had that messy wind blown look. She was wearing cut off jeans that barely covered the cheeks of her ass and a white tank top that had been ripped to show off her midsection. A pair of two dollar flip-flops finished off the look.

‘White trash, just like she use to be,’ I thought, shaking my head in revulsion.

I watched through my secluded perch inside the office of the cheap motel as she did her best to sale her mangled goods. Strangely enough, after one man left her room, it wasn’t long before she was walking in with another. Desperate men seemed to find what she had to offer to be exactly what they were looking for.

‘What was this world coming to,’ I thought disgustedly.

Finally the line of men slowed to a trickle, and then stopped all together. I knew this was my chance. I grabbed my time card and clocked out for the night. After locking up the front office door, I walked over to where she stood.

“Would you like a date, sugar?” she asked right on cue. I looked down at my shoes.

“Well aren’t you just a cute little shy one,” she said, placing her hand on my shoulder.

“I-if it’s not too much trouble,” I managed to say. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and the anger boiling up from somewhere deep inside.

“It’s no trouble at all honey. I’ve got a room right here. Long as you have the money, I’ll give you all the attention you want,” she said smiling at me. I felt my stomach turn.

“I have the money,” I spat out, pulling a few twenty dollar bills from my pocket as proof.

“Well just follow me then,” she sang, leading the way to her door. Money was more important to her than even her soul.

Her room was cleaner then I had expected it to be, even if she had only been here a couple of nights. Usually these people don’t give a rat’s ass what kind of filth they live in.

“Just have a seat on the bed darlin’. I’m gonna go get freshened up just a bit. I’ll be back before you know it. Don’t you worry,” she said as she scurried off to the only other room.

As I sat there waiting for her to return, my mind drifted back a few nights to when she had first shown up at the motel. She had called me ‘sugar’ then too and told me she wasn’t sure when she’d be checking out. I knew right then she was nothing more than a common whore.

I had been watching her ever since, feeling the urge burn deep within me every time I saw her go into her room with a different man. I tried desperately to keep it buried for as long as I could. After all, I had promised Father I would try not to do it anymore but I knew he wouldn’t approve of this type of filth. He’d understand why I had to do it.

She came out of the bathroom wearing only a towel. The acid from my stomach rose to the back of my throat and made me cough.

“You want me to get you a glass of water for that cough, sugar?” she asked, her face contorted in genuine concern.

“No, I’m fine,” I said, waving her off.

“Well alright then,” she said, giving me another nauseating smile.

She sat down beside me on the bed and began running her fingers through my hair. I jerked away before I could stop myself.

“What’s your name?” I asked. I always had to know their names.

“What do you what it to be?” she chimed in, trying to touch me again.

“I want to know your real name,” I said flatly, pulling away from her once more. She was trying to contaminate me and it was sending my rage into over drive.

“The one my mama gave me?” she asked giggling.

“Yes,” I said between clinched teeth.

“Well calm down sugar, I’ll tell you. My name’s Elisha,” she said.

I thought for a moment trying to recall the meaning behind the name. I knew it was of Hebrew origin. Father had made me memorize all the names who’s meanings were about God.

“That means God is my salvation,” I said glaring at her. “How could you dirty such a pure name with your sins?”

“My sins?” she asked puzzled.

She reached over and touched my hand. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I grabbed her by her wrist and twisted it feeling the tiny bones snap beneath my fingers.

“Let go of me! That hurts!” she cried out, her face distorted in pain.

“Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness. For the wages of sin is death,” I said, smiling as I spoke the good words God gave us.

“Sin…death? What are you some kind of Jesus freak?” she spat, clawing at my hand trying to get me to let go of her.

“All the ends of the earth will remember and turn to the Lord, and all the families of the nations will bow down before Him,” I said, pulling her off the bed and forcing her to kneel in front of me.

Her towel came off exposing her wicked flesh to me. My stomach lurched. She tried to squirm out of my grasp, but I held on tight.

“If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness,” I said, dragging her over to the bathroom.

“Let me go you bastard!” she screamed, her legs flailing.

She managed to reach around and grab my ankle which sent me crashing to the floor. The rage overcame me and I punched her with my free hand, knocking her out cold.

“I will bestow punishment on you for the evil you have done, declared the Lord,” I said, as I stood up and dragged her the rest of the way into the bathroom.

I picked her up and placed her in the bathtub, then went back out into the room to look for her bags. They were lying inside the closet, she hadn’t unpacked them. I rummaged through the dirty bags till I found the pantyhose I was looking for.

Walking back into the bathroom, I took one pair and tied her hands to the towel rack above her head. I used the other pair to tie her feet to the water faucet, and then stuffed a washcloth into her mouth. She was still unconscious. I made my way out of the motel room, locking the door behind me.

I walked down the sidewalk passed the office to the janitorial room. Unlocking the door, I looked around until I found a five gallon bucket. I grabbed it then left the room making sure to lock the door on my way out.

The ice machine was right outside her room. I looked around to make sure no one was watching. I doubted anyone would be. The people, if you could call them that, around here were too drawn into themselves to notice anything out of the ordinary.

After filling the bucket up with ice, I unlocked her door and made my way back to the bathroom. She wasn’t moving, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t awake.

I quickly poured the bucket of ice over her naked torso. She jumped and began to struggle with her restraints. Her muffled screams and mascara tainted tears entranced me for a moment.

“Let me go you freak!” she screamed. It broke me out of my trance. She had somehow pushed the gag out of her mouth and was writhing and screaming as loud as she could.

“Shut up you whore!” I yelled back, slamming my fist right between her eyes, silencing her once again.

I went back to the closet and looked through her bags again for something to tie the gag into place. I found a tattered scarf in one of the side pockets. It was filthy but would work. Going back into the bathroom, I stuffed the washcloth into her mouth once more, and then secured it with the scarf.

Once I was satisfied that I had finally confined her and silenced that loud mouth, I grabbed the bucket and walked back to the ice machine. Filling it once more, I returned to the bathroom and poured the ice out over her legs. She didn’t move this time.

I repeated this until her entire body was under ice. Her head and arms were the only parts left exposed. I sat down on the toilet seat, lit a cigarette and waited for the pain of the ice freezing her body to wake her.

I was putting my cigarette out when the clanking of the ice cubes got my attention. She was starting to stir. The ice hadn’t reached the numbing stage yet. I knew her entire body was aching by the pained expression on her face and the tears in her eyes. She wasn’t struggling against her restraints though. I guess she finally realized I was the one in control. I couldn’t help but smile at that.

I pulled out my buck knife and laid it on the edge of the sink then looked her over. Her hands were trembling, partly from the cold but mostly from fear. She had two large lumps where I had hit her, one on the side of her head and one between her eyes. Her lips were turning blue and she had lost most of the color in her face. The ice was doing its job of slowing down her blood flow.

I slid off the toilet seat and got on my knees to pray. I wanted His guidance before continuing with what I had to do.

“Dear Lord, I seek your counsel. I wish to do only what is right in your eyes. You said ‘all sinners will be destroyed; the future of the wicked will be cut off.’ I only wish to do your will. Guide me through these next hours, so that I may cleanse the Earth of one dark spot and bring glory to your name. For it’s in your Holy name I pray, Amen.”

Sitting back on my heels, I reached over and took the buck knife off the sink. Turning it over in my hand, I examined the sharp blade. It was mostly smooth but had a jagged area near the handle. The handle was made out of petrified wood with a brass tip. My father had given me this knife when I turned thirteen. He had told me he had been holding onto to it until the day I became a man. It was my most prized possession.

Turning my attention back to her, I searched her eyes. I looked for one tiny spot of hope, one spot of cleanliness. I only saw blackness and hatred. Hatred of me, hatred of the Lord and a black pit where her soul once was. Maybe if I forced her to confess her sins, God might show mercy on her.

“Do you know what honesty is?” I asked, my eyes burning into hers.

She nodded yes. I didn’t believe her. I leaned over and pressed the razor sharp edge of the buck knife against her arm. She began shaking but didn’t try to move.

“If I take off the gag, will you stay quiet, only answering when I tell you to?” I asked, pressing the knife harder against her skin. She nodded yes again. Even if she was lying this time, the knife would shut her up quickly enough.

Still holding the blade to her arm, I used my other hand to untie the scarf and pull the gag from her mouth. She didn’t make a noise.

“Good,” I said. “You doing what you’re told will make this all a lot easier.”

I looked into her eyes and secretly prayed for God to give me the words I needed.

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness,” I finally said, scanning her face to see if she understood what I wanted.

“Y-you want me to …confess?” she asked, the tears welling up in her eyes again, if they had ever stopped. I wasn’t sure.

“Yes! I want you to tell God all the evil deeds you have done in your life. If you do this with a pure heart, He might show you mercy,” I said, happy that she understood what I wanted.

“Don’t we all sin? I only did what I had to so I could live,” she said, turning her head away from me.

“Liar! There are honest ways to make a living. You didn’t have to sell yourself. That was a choice you made. You chose to sin!” I yelled.

She was trying to make excuses for what she had done. In my rage I removed the knife from her arm, then reached into the ice and grabbed one of her breasts.

“This is what you use to tempt men! I will make sure today will be the last day you do that,” I said, taking my knife and slicing through the tissue until her nipple lay on the ice, hanging from a small thread of skin.

She screamed, partly from the pain, partly from the site of her mutilated body. The wound hardly bled. The ice was working perfectly.

I placed the gag back into her mouth and secured it with the scarf.

I needed to think and I couldn’t do that with her screaming.

I wanted to think of my next move, but the anger took hold and forced my mind back to the first time…back to thoughts of her.

My childhood wasn’t an easy one. My father took work wherever he could find it, but the pay was never enough. He was a hard worker who believed, ‘God meant for man to earn a living by the sweat of their brow.’

Jezebel, or Mother as I called her then, didn’t work. She stayed home and took care of the house and me. At least that’s what Father thought.

Father had taken a job at the local distillery working the graveyard shift. He was gone from 6 at night until 8 the next morning.

Every night after Father left, Jezebel would help me get ready for bed then kiss me goodnight. I always thought she was cleaning or even watching T.V. after she left my room. I was wrong.

One night, I wasn’t able to fall asleep. So, as any seven year old would do, I went looking for my mother. I found her in the kitchen. She was wearing a long jacket, lots of makeup and had the keys to the car in her hand.

“Are you leaving?” I asked. I was scared. I had never been alone, at least not to my knowledge.

“Oh honey! You scared me,” Jezebel said, dropping her keys. “Don’t worry sweetie. I just need to run a quick errand. Let’s get you back to bed.”

“B-but I’m not tired,” I said, my lip quivering.

“Let me fix you some warm milk. That’ll help you drift off to sleep,” she said, reaching into the cabinet for a glass.

After drinking the milk, she put me back in bed. She came into my room twenty minutes later to check on me. I pretended I was asleep.

I heard her start up the old Pontiac station wagon and raced to the window just in time to see her drive off. I was alone and frightened. I ended up crying myself to sleep that night.

I awoke a little after midnight and she was still gone. I felt so many emotions. I was scared to be in the house alone that late at night, mad at her for leaving me and saddened that I didn’t seem to matter to her anymore. I sat up in my bed determined to stay up until she arrived. I wanted to know why she would do this to me. It didn’t happen though. My exhaustion took over and sometime after 2 a.m. I fell asleep again.

The next morning I asked her why she left me alone and told her how scared I had been. She started crying and kept saying ‘I’m so sorry’ over and over.

While Father was sleeping, she took me for ice cream and made me promise not to tell him about her leaving. She said the errand she had to run was for a special surprise for Father. I believed her and didn’t say a word.

A week went by before I realized she had left again. I wasn’t as scared this time, only hurt. I kept my promise though and didn’t tell Father, although it seemed odd that she would still be running errands for Father’s surprise.

I started pretending to be asleep to see how often she would leave. For a week straight she left every night like clockwork, except for the nights Father was home.

I don’t know if I did it because I was hurt by her leaving, or if it was some form of payback but I decided to tell Father about her late night ‘errands’.

He was getting ready for work. Jezebel was in town picking up the few groceries we could afford. I walked into the bathroom where Father was standing at the sink shaving. He didn’t even seem to notice me standing there.

“Um…Father?” I hesitantly asked.

“Yes, what is it?” he said, continuing to shave.

It took me a few moments to muster up the courage to tell him what I knew. Although I was angry with Jezebel for leaving me, I knew I was about to betray her.

I stared at my shoes. This was going to be harder then I thought it would be.

“Spit it out boy! I don’t have all day,” he said, looking at me through the mirror.

“It’s … about Mother,” I said, jamming my hands in my pockets.

“What about her?” he asked.

I wanted to turn and run. Something in my gut told me not to tell him, but I just couldn’t let it go. As much as I didn’t want him to know, I needed him to at the same time.

“Well?”

“S-she’s been leaving at night. I thought it was just the two times to run the errands needed for your surprise, but she’s left every night this past week except when you’re home,” I blurted out in one breath.

I looked up and saw his face in the mirror. I had never seen such anger in my life from anyone, let alone my father.

He put down his razor and turned to look at me. “What do you mean she’s been leaving at night?”

His voice sounded foreign to me. I could see he was trying to hide his anger, but it kept flashing across his face. I wished I hadn’t said anything.

“Answer me! Where has she been going?” he said, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me a bit.

In my fear, I told him everything that had happened. Not just about the first night and the panic I had felt then, but all of it. The talk at the ice cream parlor, the second night I noticed she was gone, my pretending to be asleep to see how many times she would leave…everything.

He didn’t say a word, just turned around and went back to shaving. I stood there not sure what I should do next.

“Well go on. I have to finish getting ready for work,” he said.

I turned to walk out of the bathroom when he called for me.

“Yes sir?” I said, my voice shaking.

He turned and faced me again. “Don’t tell your mother we had this little talk. I’m not mad, so you don’t have to worry about that. I’ve got a little surprise of my own for her.”

I nodded and walked back to my bedroom. Somewhere in my seven year old brain I knew he was lying. He was mad. I didn’t know how I knew it, I just did.

I stayed in my room for a while replaying the whole conversation in my head. If Father was angry and something happened, it would be my fault. I regretted telling him more now then during the conversation.

I left my room to go see if Jezebel was home yet. I thought if I was there when she returned, Father might not be so upset, at least not in front of me.

Father was sitting at the kitchen table having his usual cup of coffee before work. He was staring at the painting that hung above the stove of and old man praying before having a slice of bread. I decided not to disturb him.

I went and sat quietly on the couch and waited for Jezebel to return. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen, I just knew I needed to be there.

The house had never been so quiet. The ticking of the clock that sat on the mantel sounded like thunder crashing. I didn’t dare move.

It seemed like an eternity had passed before I finally heard Jezebel pull into the drive of our old farm house. My whole body stiffened and my stomach transformed into a million knots.

“Go help your mother with the groceries,” Father said. The next sound I heard was the back door slamming shut.

I got out on the porch in time to see Father’s truck pulling out of the drive. I had to breathe a sigh of relief knowing nothing would happen…not yet at least.

“Where was he off in such a hurry?” Jezebel asked, as she walked up the steps with both arms full of grocery bags.

I just shrugged as I ran past her and out to the car. I gathered as many bags as I could. I just wanted to get the groceries inside and go hide in my room.

As I was getting the last of the bags out of the trunk, I noticed a truck parked on the trail that lead down to the river. The trail cut through a thick patch of woods so the truck was fairly hidden. If it wasn’t for the headlights of a car turning onto our road reflecting off the grill, I never would have seen it.

When I brought the last of the bags into the kitchen, I couldn’t help but notice there were a lot more groceries than usual. Jezebel said it was because Father had worked overtime, but I knew he had been home at his usual time all week.

I gave her one last disapproving look, hoping she would tell me the truth. Even at seven years old, I knew the bible said not to lie. She was sinning, and I couldn’t help but wonder what other sins she had committed.

She didn’t say another word, and I couldn’t be in the same room with her anymore. My feelings were confusing. She was my mother after all, but something wasn’t sitting right with me. I just knew I had to get away.

I spent the rest of the evening in my room, only coming out for supper. When I finished eating, I took my bath and got ready for bed.

I went on to sleep after Jezebel kissed me goodnight. I couldn’t help flinching when she did. She seemed dirty to me for some reason. I just wanted sleep to come and those feelings to go away.

A loud crash woke me up. I turned over and saw it was 2:34 in the morning. I jumped out of my bed and slowly walked out into the hall. Another crash and the yelling voice of my father hit my ears. Then I heard Jezebel scream.

I ran out into the living room. It looked like a tornado had come through. The couch was over turned, the coffee table was in pieces and the T.V. screen was cracked.

Neither of them noticed I was standing there. Father was too caught up in his anger, and Jezebel was too overcome with fear. I had never seen them acting this way. I closed my eyes hoping when I reopened them, everything would be normal again. It wasn’t. I crept back a few feet into the hall. It just felt safer for some reason.

“You are nothing but a Jezebel, a whore! Did you really think I would be okay with this? You have taken the vows we made in front of God and spit on them!” Father yelled.

“We needed the money. I wasn’t about to let him do without. I was trying to help our family,” she pleaded.

“Help our family? You’ve disgraced this family. In the eyes of this town and more importantly in the eyes of God,” he said, taking a step closer to Jezebel.

“Don’t! Please don’t! I’m…I’m pregnant. Please don’t hurt our child,” she said, backing up until she hit the wall.

Father’s eyes took on a look that scared me. They seemed to turn red. He was angry, more angry then I had ever seen him. I didn’t understand. Shouldn’t he be happy that she was going to have a baby?

“Our child?! That thing growing inside of you has nothing to do with me. It’s from your sin. It’s from the Devil!” Father spat. He took another step closer to Jezebel and grabbed her by the shoulders.

“Please no,” she cried. “If you hurt this child, I’ll….I’ll tell. I’ll tell everyone! The church, people in town…everyone! I won’t let you get away with this!” she said, trying to sound stronger then she was.

Something in me told me that what she just said was the biggest mistake she could ever make. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to run, get away from what I knew was about to happen but I was frozen. I wasn’t even sure if I was still breathing.

Father picked Jezebel off the ground and threw her as hard as he could. She landed in the middle of the living room, hitting her head on the corner of the couch. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out.

The breath was knocked out of her, but she was still awake. He pulled her up by her hair and she cried out. This just made Father more angry. He punched her hard in the face. The hit sent her flying backwards. I looked over to where she landed and saw that she was bleeding. There was a large gash across her cheek.

“Father no! Please don’t,” I said, somehow making my body move again.

I ran across the living room to where he was and grabbed his hands. They were shaking. He looked down at me and the anger in his face softened.

Jezebel moaned but didn’t wake up. I looked up to my Father, my eyes searching his for answers. Until now, I had never seen him hit Jezebel.

“Father?” I asked softly.

He just kept looking at me. I wasn’t sure what I saw in his eyes. The anger was still there, but so was something else.

Finally looking away from me, he went over to the side table by the recliner and picked up the book that sat there. He looked over to me and made a gesture that let me know I should join him.

As I reached the chair, I realized he was holding the Bible. I sat down at his feet and waited as he turned the worn pages of the Good Book.

“I need to tell you about a woman, a woman God talks about. It will help explain why I’m so angry,” he said, looking over to Jezebel.

I nodded my okay and waited for him to start reading.

“I’m reading from Revelation chapter two. ’Nevertheless, I have this against you: You tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess. By her teaching she misleads my servants into sexual immorality and the eating of food sacrificed to idols. So I will cast her on a bed of suffering, and I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways. I will strike her children dead. Then all the churches will know that I am he who searches hearts and minds, and I will repay each of you according to your deeds.’ Do you understand what God has said here?” he asked, putting the book back on the table.

“No…not really,” I said sheepishly. “What does that have to do with Mother?”

I shouldn’t have asked the question but I couldn’t help myself. Father’s eyes lit up with anger once again. He tried to calm himself before speaking to me again but he wasn’t able to.

“Your Mother has been leaving you home alone every night just so she can go out and have sex with other men for money!” he bellowed. I thought the vein in his neck might pop.

He didn’t get up, and neither did I. I was scared to breathe and I knew he wasn’t finished.

“Don’t you see what she has done? God hates whores and she’s become one! On top of that she’s pregnant! One of those disgusting men who have no love of the Lord, coupled with my wife, your mother and spawned evil…pure evil!”

With that he got up and went over to where she lay. She was starting to stir. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t stop the burning feeling that was forming in the pit of my stomach.

“Do not lust in your heart after her beauty or let her captivate you with her eyes,” he said, picking up Jezebel by the hair and forcing her to stand up.

Jezebel’s eyes flung open and she started to scream. Father clamped his hand over her mouth and spun her around.

“For the prostitute reduces you to a loaf of bread, and the adulteress preys upon your very life,” he said, using his other arm to pin Jezebel’s arms at her side.

She began to kick at his legs. Her whole body shook trying to get out of his grasp. The fear on her face made me cower behind the side table.

“Can a man scoop fire into his lap without his clothes being burned? I won’t be burned by you Jezebel!” Father yelled as he picked Jezebel up and slung her against the front door.

Her body fell to the ground like a rag doll. One leg was bent behind her, one spread out beside her. Her arms were crossed over her face. One had a large cut on it and I could see something white poking out.

I didn’t dare move, mostly from fear of what was happening, but part of it was I knew somewhere in my heart that my Father was right. Jezebel had sinned and deserved punishment. I just wasn’t sure if she deserved this much.

“Look up to the barren heights and see. Is there any place where you have not been ravished?” he said, walking over to where she had fallen onto the floor.

He positioned her body so she was laying flat on the floor. He moved her arms away from her face and put them at her side.

The injured arm was facing me and more of the white thing was coming through. I felt my stomach lurch when I realized it was her bone. I had never seen the inside of someone before.

As much as it repulsed me, I couldn’t help but watch everything. There was a lesson to learn here. That much I knew.

“By the roadside you sat waiting for lovers, sat like a nomad in the desert. You have defiled the land with your prostitution and wickedness,” he said, getting up and going into the kitchen.

He return with some rope and began to tie her hands and feet together. I could have sworn, for one moment, I saw a single tear drop from his eye. As soon as the tear left his cheek, the flaming rage returned.

“You adulterous wife! You prefer strangers to your own husband! Every prostitute receives a fee, but you give gifts to all your lovers, bribing them to come to you from everywhere from your illicit favors,” he said, forcing her to sit up.

He slapped her across the face to wake her. It worked and the fear returned to her eyes. It took her a moment to realize she was tied up and couldn’t escape, yet she tried anyway.

Father straddled her legs and grabbed her face in his hands. He just sat there looking at her for the longest time. I don’t know if he was trying to make up his mind on what he should do next or if he was searching her face for some sign of remorse. Jezebel didn’t make a sound. I never understood that.

“So in your prostitution you are the opposite of others; no one runs after you for your favors,” he spat. “You are the very opposite, for you give payment and none is given to you.”

With that he threw her head onto the floor. It made a cracking sound as her skull connected with the hardwood.

My fear was about to get the best of me. Father had only been speaking in bible verses since he finished reading me the passage from Revelation. I didn’t understand everything he was saying, only some of it.

I wanted to run and hide in my room but I didn’t want to anger Father any further. I had never seen him this way and I wasn’t sure if or when it would turn on me. I had, after all, waited a full two weeks before telling him about Jezebel leaving at night.

He looked over to where I was hidden behind the side table. I felt my heart leap into my throat. ‘This is it,’ I thought. ‘It’s my turn to be punished.’

He motioned for me to come to him. I hesitated for a moment, unable to move. Finally I found the courage to get up and walk over to where he was.

“My son, give me your heart and let your eyes keep to my ways, for a prostitute is a deep pit and a wayward wife is a narrow well,” he said, looking straight into my eyes.

He reached down and pulled his Buck knife from its sheath that was attached to his belt. I felt my knees try to give way but somehow managed to keep standing.

“Like a bandit she lies in wait, and multiplies the unfaithful among men,” he said, taking the knife and ripping open Jezebel’s dress.

I turned my head not wanting to see Jezebel naked. This all felt like a nightmare. One I wasn’t sure I’d ever wake from, yet I still couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something I was suppose to learn from all this.

“Don’t look away boy! Haven’t you been hearing me? God has given us the right as His children to rid the Earth of such filth. You can’t look on her as your Mother any longer. She is now and forever will be…Jezebel, a harlot and a filthy whore. We must do God’s will son. We must send this evil and the evil that grows inside her, straight to hell!” Father said, slamming the blade of the knife into the hardwood floor, catching what remained of Jezebel’s dress and pinning it there.

I willed myself to look back. There my Mother, no…Jezebel laid, broken and battered. Her stomach was round to make room for the baby that grew inside her. I feared what would happen next but I also longed for her to be punished. She had chosen a life of sin over her family. Father was right; she didn’t deserve to live any longer, and that was the great lesson I had to learn.

“What do you need me to do Father,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

Turning to me, Father smiled but didn’t say a word. I think he was still planning everything out. We sat there in silence for a long time. I waited for his instructions, he prayed for God’s guidance.

“The Lord wants her but He’s giving us the devil child,” he finally said. His voice sounded like a stranger. “We’re going to need more rope.”

I quickly got up and ran through the kitchen then out the back door towards the shed. I knew father had a long piece of rope out there. I had used it just a few days ago to make a fort. I grabbed it and headed back to the house.

When I reached the back door, I heard Jezebel scream. I ran into the kitchen crossing through the doorway of the living room. My feet stopped moving. I stood there like a statue, unable to understand what I was seeing.

Father was straddling Jezebel’s legs and had her arms pinned above her head with one his hands. With the other, he was dragging the knife across her stomach.

At first, I thought he was just trying to frighten her but then I saw the blood from her belly start to pour over her side. It began pooling on the floor around her.

“Bring me the rope,” Father said, without even looking up.

Walking those ten steps from the doorway to where my Father and Jezebel were was the hardest thing I had ever had to do…up to that point at least. Somehow I made it though.

“Just lay it down over there,” Father said, motioning with his head for me to drop it beside Jezebel.

I stood there staring at my shoes until I heard Jezebel make a sound I had never heard before. It was like a muffled scream and whimper mixed together. The sound sent chills up and down my spine.

Looking up from my shoes, I saw that Father had cut an upside down cross down Jezebel’s stomach. He dropped the knife he had in his free hand and reached through the wounds and into Jezebel’s stomach.

“Father! What are you doing?” I screamed, then immediately wished I hadn’t said anything.

“What needs to be done,” he said sternly, without looking up from the gaping wound on Jezebel’s stomach.

Jezebel was moaning and moving around a little but wasn’t screaming or fighting Father anymore. I didn’t know why she seemed so calm then but now I know she had went into shock.

Father’s hand began to come out of the wounds and in it he held what looked like a tiny bloody ball with a cord connected to it. I had no idea what I was looking at until I heard the baby cry.

Father grabbed his knife from the floor and cut through the cord. Jezebel’s eyes had rolled back into her head and she wasn’t moving. I thought she might already be dead.

I felt nothing when I looked at her ‘lifeless’ body. The baby though, was another story. It was just a bit bigger than Father’s hand. Beside the blood, it was covered in some kind of white stuff that looked almost like wax. I had never seen a baby look like this. In my eyes, it became an alien…the evil Father spoke of.

Only its cries reminded me that it really was a baby. I wanted the cries to stop. They made me feel confused. I felt hatred and fear of this thing but I also felt bad for it.

I shook my head trying to get rid of the sympathy I was feeling. God had given Father and me a task. We had to destroy the evil that was this thing.

“Go get one of the empty shoe boxes from my closet,” Father said. His words had no emotion. It was as if he was in a daze, just following orders...God’s orders.

I ran to the back bedroom and rummaged through his closet until I found the stack of empty shoe boxes. Jezebel always kept them. She always used to say, ‘Never know when they will come in handy.’ I was pretty sure she had never imagined them being used for something like this though.

I came back out to the living room. Father had gone to get an old sheet and was ripping it up. He took the strips and wrapped them around Jezebel’s wounds.

‘Was he going to let her live?’ I thought. I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not.

I stood there and waited for Father to finish his bandaging before handing him the shoe box. He had set the baby on the floor while he was dealing with Jezebel. It was still screaming.

‘Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!!’ I thought, trying to will the thing to be quiet. I couldn’t stand its screaming.

Father took the baby and placed it in the shoe box, covering it with the lid. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind. I was just glad its screams were a bit quieter now.

“It’s time son,” Father said, looking up at me. “Before we do this, we need to ask the Lord for guidance once more.”

He got up and walked over to me, then kneeled down gesturing for me to do the same. When I got to my knees facing Father, he took my hands in his and began to pray.

“Dear Lord, we come to you tonight as nothing but humble servants ready to do your will. We seek your council in this matter of evil that has invaded our family. My son joins me in this prayer to you and your son, Heavenly Father. We both ask that you guide our hands and thoughts, filling them with power and strength, to carry out this deed the way you see fit. Lord, give my son the wisdom to learn the lesson from what we do tonight. Give him the courage to go forth and do what you have asked of him. Calm his fears and place in his heart the will to do your service. For it’s in your Holy name we pray, Amen,” Father prayed.

With his words, I felt the Lord touch me. I knew what I had to do.

“Amen,” I said, looking at my Father. He smiled down at me, then stood. I did the same.

He picked up Jezebel off the floor and put her over his shoulder. I reached down and grabbed the box that contained the baby. It started crying louder, as if it knew something was about to happen.

I followed Father out the back door and into the yard. An eerie hush seemed to fall over the place. Not like you heard much anyways. Our closest neighbor was over a mile away. The property was surrounded by woods though, yet there were no normal nighttime animal sounds coming from them. The only thing that broke the silence was the crying coming from the box I held.

We walked through our backyard into the field behind the house. We passed the vegetable garden and the dog pen. Father hunted wild hogs and had quite a collection of black mouth curs and bulldogs. They didn’t even bark as we walked past them.

Once we reached the edge of the woods, Father placed Jezebel on the ground and walked over to me.

“I want to explain what God has shown me, son,” he said, kneeling down to get eye level with me. “When we prayed for His guidance, in my mind I could see what he wanted me to do. I am to take this Jezebel’s body out in those woods, tie her to a tree and let nature…God kill her. He didn’t want me to do it with my own hands, only to help Him. Do you understand boy?”

I nodded my head and looked out past Father and into the woods. Everything was still quiet…too quiet, except for the baby. The more it cried, the more I wanted to shut it up…for good.

“I think you felt God talking to you tonight, didn’t you son?” he asked.

I went to respond but the minute I opened my mouth he began talking again.

“I think God is giving you this chance to be a man and stand up for what is right for your family. He knows you love Him and that you are willing to do what is right,” Father said, looking down at the box I held in my hands.

I knew what he was implying. The baby would be my responsibility. I would have to rid the Earth of the evil that lay crying in this box. I was scared and not sure how I should go about killing this thing. Yet, I knew God would give me the answers I needed.

“Yes Father, I know what I have to do. I won’t let you or God down. I promise,” I said, a sense of pride coming over me.

“I know you won’t, son. You are the only thing in my life I know I did right,” Father said, putting his arms around me and hugging me tight.

He stood, picking Jezebel’s body back up and headed into the woods. I fell to my knees and asked God to show me what to do.

In my mind I kept seeing the dog pen. It was confusing and I still wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do.

“Lord, I need a sign. Please tell me how you want me to carry this out. I am afraid but willing to do what you ask of me,” I prayed, hoping for a quick answer. My anger grew with every cry that came from the box.

“Let the hounds of hell take back one of their own,” a strange voice said.

I opened my eyes and scanned the field to see who had spoken. I saw no one. It had to be God talking to me. This was my sign.

I looked back at the dog pen. All the dogs had lined up against the fence and were sitting on their back legs just looking at me. It was as if they were waiting for a promised treat.

I slowly walked over to the pen. Reaching through the fence, I touched the nose of one of the curs. It lifted its head and licked my hand gently. Father had always told me never to touch these dogs. They were mean and vicious and only obeyed his commands. Yet, tonight something had changed. They seemed to …respect me.

The baby screamed out breaking the peaceful silence once again.

“Would you shut up already!” I screamed while shaking the box. It only made the baby cry louder.

In my frustration, I removed the lid. At that moment, I thought I could have strangled the thing with my own hands and not felt anything, but that wasn’t what God wanted me to do.

The feeling of anger and frustration completely left me though when I looked down into the box. The baby had stopped crying and was looking up at me. Although it was still covered in half dried blood and whatever that wax looking stuff was, it for the first time registered that this was not only a baby but also my brother.

His hands and feet were so tiny. I reached into the box to compare one of his hands to the size of my finger when he grabbed a hold of it. His grip was strong. I couldn’t help but smile.

At that moment, the dogs started howling which caused the baby to jerk then start screaming again. Right before my eyes, the baby changed from my ‘brother’ back into the evil I knew it was. It had tried to trick me, make me feel sorry for it and I had almost taken the bait.

I was furious. The dogs howling and the screaming of the baby seemed to make that anger more intense. Looking down at the evil creature once more, I knew what I had to do.

I threw the box that held the baby into the dog pen. It landed with a soft thud, and immediately the baby’s cries turned to screams of pain. It had fallen out of the box and rolled through the dirt a few times, coming to rest on it’s back. It was now covered in a muddy mix of blood and dirt.

The dogs began to circle it. Some closing in enough to sniff at the writhing bloody thing I had given them. I watched as the bulldogs started to bare their teeth at it.

The two largest dogs jumped on the baby, one grabbing its feet and the other grabbing its head. A low hungry growl came from the back of the dogs’ throats. They started a tug of war to see who would win the prize.

The baby had stopped crying. I was pretty sure it was already dead but I kept watching to see what the dogs would do next.

The other dogs began barking as if they were cheering the warring hounds on. I heard a ripping sound and saw the dog that held the feet of the baby stumble backwards, two tiny legs dangling from its mouth.

At that moment, I heard Jezebel scream and my Father calling my name. I lifted my gaze from the pack of dogs and headed into the woods, following the sound of my Father’s voice.

It took me a minute but I finally found where he had taken Jezebel. He was standing there with the rope in one hand and pinning her to a tree with the other.

“Hurry up and come help me,” he said, sounding out of breath. Jezebel was putting up quite a fight for her life. I guess I couldn’t blame her.

I ran over and grabbed on end of the rope, but then just stood there because I wasn’t sure what Father wanted me to do.

“I’ll hold her down and you wrap the rope around her tight. Just make sure you don’t cover her stomach,” Father said in one breath.

I did what I was told. When there was only a few feet of rope left, Father took it from me and secured Jezebel to the tree.

“You bastard! God will punish you for this! And how can you involve him?” she yelled, looking from Father to me.

“Shut up Jezebel! You are getting what you deserve, don’t forget that it was you who put yourself in this position…not me!” Father yelled back.

Father took his knife and cut away the bandages he had placed over Jezebel’s wounds. He then cut through the few scabs that had started to form, causing the wounds to bleed again. Jezebel said no more, just screamed.

Taking a step back, Father admired his work for a moment then said, “This is all we can do. The wild animals and bugs will do the rest.”

With that he put his arm around my shoulder and we walked back toward the house. As we passed the dog pen, I looked over but saw no trace of the baby’s body.

“Did you do what God had instructed you?” Father asked, stopping in front of the shed.

“Yes, exactly the way He wanted it,” I said, looking out to the dog pen.

Father smiled and squeeze my shoulder a bit. He was proud of me and so was God. I couldn’t help but smile back.

That night, after Father had tucked me into bed, I fell asleep to the muffled cries of Jezebel as the animals ravaged her body.