Page 2 of Gideon
I glanced over to the spare room. In all honesty, I had never made it into a proper bedroom. I had never needed to. It was full of this and that; odds and ends I had never really found a home for. There was really only one thing left to do. I turned on my heel, marching back down the staircase, ready to board my boat and busy myself with some ropework for the night. If my new wife wanted her peace and quiet, then she would get it.
I only made it to the front door before another thought struck me. Instead of playing with some rope on The Ataraxia, perhaps I could play with some rope on a beautiful rope bunny instead. A night at Abditory sounded much more relaxing than being alone on my boat. So, I grabbed my jacket and headed back to the pickup. If Naomi wanted to be alone, alone is what she would be.
With the first genuine smile of the day on my face, I started up the engine and took off towards St. George. Yes, this is exactly what I needed. Some space from Naomi, a place where I could be myself, and a gorgeous, willing participant to truss up in all kinds of beautiful poses. What could be better?
I had only made it about a mile down the road when it became painfully obvious I had made the wrong call.
A cluster of vehicles blocked the road.
The Reverend’s car was among them.
Fuck.
As was Father’s.
Double fuck.
I slowed my truck down as I neared them. There was no use turning around and heading home. They had seen me, just as I had seen them. As I got closer, I saw they were all out of their vehicles, standing around as though they were waiting for me.
That couldn’t be a good sign.
About ten of them stood there, all silently watching as my truck came to a halt before them. I tried to come up with an excuse, my mind doing me no favors at the moment as I came up with utter shit.
I picked up my cell phone from where I had thrown it onto the seat beside me and pocketed it quickly. The Reverend waltzed up to my door, Father directly behind him. Great. Just great.
“Where are you headed, Son?” the Reverend inquired, leaning his elbow against my opened window.
Think, Gideon, think. Something. Anything.
“Uh, just out running an errand for the new wife,” I explained with a weak smile.
“What kind of errand might that be?” he asked, his eyes narrowing at me as though he could see through me — and my bullshit excuse.
“To the store, actually. Seems I didn’t prepare for having a woman in the house very well,” I tried to laugh it off. But no one else was laughing.
“What exactly did you not have that your new bride wanted?” Father asked. His tone may have sounded kind, but I knew better. It was anything but kind. There was an edge to it that was unmistakable to any of us Temple boys. The kind of tone that said, you better have a good excuse or you might not live to see tomorrow. I knew better than to push against the man.
“She wants some ice cream. I rarely keep the stuff around, but I’m doing my best to keep the woman happy. Gotta keep women happy, am I right?” I chuckled. Luckily, a few of the Elders joined in the laughter this time. The Reverend and Father did not join. They pinned me with matching stares of skepticism.
“Elder Christian, please head off to the grocery store in town and fetch young Gideon some ice cream, will you?” The Reverend called out, his eyes never leaving mine. There was a dangerous tone to this man that matched my father’s. I didn’t want to fuck around with either of them. I just wanted to get the hell out of Dodge. One of the men behind him quickly gave a brief nod and jumped into their car, speeding off down the road. The Reverend smiled sinisterly.
“Since we’ve got you here, it seems as good a time as any to have a little chat, young Gideon,” the Reverend spoke. The Elders, including Father, all nodded along in approval. It felt more like a gang initiation than a chat amongst the church Elders. “Why don’t you step out while we wait on that ice cream, Son,” he spoke with a smile that made my stomach roll.
I opened the truck door and stepped out, feeling like I was stepping into the lion’s den.
“What can I do for you all?” I asked, my hands tucked into my pockets as I leaned back against the truck with feigned nonchalance.
“As you know, we decided to give Ezekiel a mere one week for his honeymoon, in order to usher him into working at the church. A position came available that suited him well, and we didn’t want to wait. It would seem that we rushed that process just a bit,” my father began.
“We are pleased to tell you that another position has come available, one we think is perfect for you. Now, we don’t want to rush you and your new bride too much, so we were more diligent in our planning this time,” the Reverend continued.
“What position is that?” I asked with false interest.
“Now, now, Son. It’s your wedding night. We won’t bother you with those details this evening. You’ll find out soon enough. But we’ve decided to give you two weeks of honeymoon, to give you time to handle things at home,” Father explained.
“With all due respect, a full month would give me a much better chance of carrying on the Temple’s name,” I protested with hidden chagrin.
“That’s where the due diligence comes in, Son,” Father beamed. “We took the liberty of making sure we knew when your new bride’s cycle would take place. We planned the wedding for the perfect time. She will be ovulating over the next few days, which gives you the highest chance of breeding her while still being able to get to your new position with the church.”
