Page 4 of Ezekiel
A way out by means of a scream.
I opened my mouth, letting loose a cry of agonizing grief. Grief that this was a thing for me. Grief that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape the burden that was my condition. Grief that no one in this godforsaken place even cared enough to try to understand. Even my own brothers. Everyone was happy to write it off — write me off — as the town weirdo, the mentally retarded Temple brother who just couldn’t be explained.
I wasn’t mentally disabled. I wasn’t disabled at all, though my condition hindered my ability far more than I wanted it to. I screamed until my lungs ached. The freezing, wintery air filled them between each scream, shocking my system with its severity. It should have been enough. That cold air should have quieted the panic and unease, but it didn’t work. Not this time. I doubted anything would work this time.
My mind raced with thoughts of the day, from the repeated lectures my father had given to the ceremony that had been nothing more than a sham of a joke, to what had happened in the bowels of the church beneath the fellowship hall. I felt the bile rise up in my stomach, my guts turning at the thought of what had occurred. The Elders of the church, those lecherous miscreants in sheep’s clothing, had closed in on her — on Talia — and leered at her as she was touched, examined, and prodded under the guise of protecting the purity of God’s holy matrimony.
My cell phone buzzed in my pocket, pulling my attention as my breath heaved and panted in my chest. Malachi’s name blinked across the screen. I answered, not speaking a word.
“Was that you?” his gruff voice spoke.
“Yes.” My voice came out in a hiss. Whether it was out of frustration, pain, or something else, I wasn’t sure.
“I’m on my way.” The line went dead. I didn’t have to wonder how Malachi would find me out on his property. He just knew. It wasn’t long before my prediction was proven right. I saw him running across the field in my direction.
“What happened?” he panted out, his breathing labored.
“Did you run here from the house?” I asked, ignoring his question all together.
“I was out at the barn. Small issue. Doesn’t matter. What happened?” he reiterated.
“How did I get here?” I asked, mostly rhetorically and definitely more to myself than to him.
“I’m pretty sure you walked here. On your own two feet. Because you’re a crazy person,” he deadpanned.
“Not funny, dude,” I scoffed derisively. I stood there with my hands on my hips, looking up at the expanse of sky above me.
“I mean it, though. How did I get myself into this mess? And no, I’m not looking for an answer.” My attitude was shit. I didn’t mean to snap at Kai, but better him than Talia. At least Malachi understood, on some level.
“That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time.” He pulled out a cigar from his back pocket, lighting it with a few smoky puffs. “This whole plan of Levi’s could have been executed better. Fuck, the plan was never supposed to be to get married.”
“Kai, you know it’s not that simple. Levi’s plan–”
“No! Levi’s plan was for us to get the fuck out of dodge. We all agreed. This place is shit, and it was time to leave. Years ago,” he interrupted, his own ire building.
“You and I both know that’s not true. For fuck’s sake, I wasn’t even on board until just over a year ago,” I tried to reason with him.
“Well, that’s because you’re a goddamn idiot,” he deadpanned.
“It just took me a little longer to find my place, that’s all,” I clarified.
“All I’m saying is that it should have been simple. We all discovered Abditory and found kink. Check. We all realized the fucked up nature of Zion. Check. And we all were supposed to pack up shop and get the fuck out. But no, Levi had to go all martyr complex and save the innocents,” he huffed out in exasperation.
“And why is trying to save a few innocent women such a bad idea?” I asked.
“Because women are stupid.” I chuckled, rolling my eyes at his stubbornness. I, of all people, knew that Malachi didn’t actually mean that.
“I don’t know. This is all insane. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this plan got blown way out of proportion,” I sighed heavily.
“I’m rarely wrong, brother,” he smirked.
“I know this is the right thing to do, but Jesus Christ, could we maybenothave to do the right thing? Just for once?” I whined, holding my hand out for the cigar. I rarely smoked, especially compared to Malachi, but tonight was not a normal night.
“Hear, hear,” Malachi agreed with a humorless chuckle.
“How am I supposed to be in that house for the next week and not lose my damned mind?” I took a quick puff of the cigar, the smoky, sweet flavor filling my mouth.
“Week? Don’t you mean month?” he chuckled, teasing me with his tone.
