Chapter 14
Father MacClenny awoke to a prickly feeling in his neck, and amost ended his life when the face causing the feeling appeared inches away. He jumped, but fortunately, the face and the knife also jumped, and he was left with only a slight slice across his throat. The knife came right back, and he froze, making air sounds instead of words.
“Dis ‘em?” the knife welder asked.
“He’s the priest, you idiot. "
Although he could not see the speaker without moving, and he couldn’t move, Father MacClenny decided whoever it was must be the leader, and was rewarded with the knife holder removed his knife, leaving another mark, much smaller than the first one.
The leader, a uniformed military man, strode into view, pulled the Father to his feet, and demanded, “Where is he?”
“Where is who?” He had no idea who the military man could possibly want.
Instead of an answer, the military man sneered in his face. “Let’s see, Father. You got three men in this place. The first man, Nyeayea, I think his name was, decided to lie about this other man. So, he has new air conditioning in his chest. The second man is you. The third man, we want. Where is he? Now, Father.”
The dentist, he wanted the dentist. “In the storage room.” It came out before he even had a chance to think.
“Wrong. He was in the storage room. He isn’t there anymore. Where, Father?”
“I don’t know.” The knife man moved forward. “He can’t be far; he has two broken legs…feet.”
“Good going, Father. Maybe you will make it though this yet.”
The military man motioned the knife man back and let go of the Father, who fell back onto his bed. He tried to stand again, but only managed to sit, shaking.
“Who are you? You don’t sound like someone…”
The military man snapped his finger, silencing the Father. “Someone from the sticks of little ol’ Africa. Hardly. I’m from Bakersfield. Heard of it?”
Father MacClenny nodded.
“My grandfather, however, was born about 200 miles north of here. French Something Africa they called it then. Now, it’s home.”
He barked out some orders in a language Father MacClenny didn’t follow. The man with the knife left, and the Father could hear scrambling in the adjacent rooms.
“The sisters?” he asked.
“Safe and sound, tucked in the kitchen. All six of them, right?”
“Yes, six.”
“And your housekeeper, or whatever, I sent her home.” He laughed at the Father’s stricken look. “No, not home to Jesus, just home. The seven of you, and the two hundred of us. Although we did have to split up, so only about 100 of us. The rest are looking for a friend of yours. Tehpoe? Know where he is?”
Father MacClenny shook his head. “He doesn’t tell us where he…” He stopped at another burst of laughter.
The military man ambled to the door. “You don’t know, Father. I’ll take your word for it." He paused and cracked a smile. "God, Father, you’d be fun to torture. Wave, say, a hot poker in your face. And we’d know how many times you jacked off and how many strokes it took each time. You’re a gem, Father.”
The military man left the Father shivering with perspiration. He tried to stand, but knew it was no use. He had no strength left.
He attempted to focus on the situation. He was the only man to face 100 rebels, with only six others, all women, to depend on. For what? “Why, God,” he asked. “Why now? What do you want of me?”
Nyeayea was dead. Not that he was going to miss the little coward. Who was he to call someone a coward? He was far worse. He couldn’t even stand up to Sister Mary Sarah.
Sudden terror struck him. The sister. The military man said six, so he would have her. If he knew the dentist was here, he would know the sister was American. He would have two for ransom. And who knows what else? And, most puzzling, where was the dentist? Stefen? He couldn’t walk. But, they hadn’t found him yet, as the noise of searching still filled the mission.
Hope.
He prayed, “Save us,” and left it at that. Summoning all of his strength, he stumbled out of bed and to his closet for something to wear. He had no idea of what he could do. But, the military man left him alone, so he would do something.
“Dis ‘em?” the knife welder asked.
“He’s the priest, you idiot. "
Although he could not see the speaker without moving, and he couldn’t move, Father MacClenny decided whoever it was must be the leader, and was rewarded with the knife holder removed his knife, leaving another mark, much smaller than the first one.
The leader, a uniformed military man, strode into view, pulled the Father to his feet, and demanded, “Where is he?”
“Where is who?” He had no idea who the military man could possibly want.
Instead of an answer, the military man sneered in his face. “Let’s see, Father. You got three men in this place. The first man, Nyeayea, I think his name was, decided to lie about this other man. So, he has new air conditioning in his chest. The second man is you. The third man, we want. Where is he? Now, Father.”
The dentist, he wanted the dentist. “In the storage room.” It came out before he even had a chance to think.
“Wrong. He was in the storage room. He isn’t there anymore. Where, Father?”
“I don’t know.” The knife man moved forward. “He can’t be far; he has two broken legs…feet.”
“Good going, Father. Maybe you will make it though this yet.”
The military man motioned the knife man back and let go of the Father, who fell back onto his bed. He tried to stand again, but only managed to sit, shaking.
“Who are you? You don’t sound like someone…”
The military man snapped his finger, silencing the Father. “Someone from the sticks of little ol’ Africa. Hardly. I’m from Bakersfield. Heard of it?”
Father MacClenny nodded.
“My grandfather, however, was born about 200 miles north of here. French Something Africa they called it then. Now, it’s home.”
He barked out some orders in a language Father MacClenny didn’t follow. The man with the knife left, and the Father could hear scrambling in the adjacent rooms.
“The sisters?” he asked.
“Safe and sound, tucked in the kitchen. All six of them, right?”
“Yes, six.”
“And your housekeeper, or whatever, I sent her home.” He laughed at the Father’s stricken look. “No, not home to Jesus, just home. The seven of you, and the two hundred of us. Although we did have to split up, so only about 100 of us. The rest are looking for a friend of yours. Tehpoe? Know where he is?”
Father MacClenny shook his head. “He doesn’t tell us where he…” He stopped at another burst of laughter.
The military man ambled to the door. “You don’t know, Father. I’ll take your word for it." He paused and cracked a smile. "God, Father, you’d be fun to torture. Wave, say, a hot poker in your face. And we’d know how many times you jacked off and how many strokes it took each time. You’re a gem, Father.”
The military man left the Father shivering with perspiration. He tried to stand, but knew it was no use. He had no strength left.
He attempted to focus on the situation. He was the only man to face 100 rebels, with only six others, all women, to depend on. For what? “Why, God,” he asked. “Why now? What do you want of me?”
Nyeayea was dead. Not that he was going to miss the little coward. Who was he to call someone a coward? He was far worse. He couldn’t even stand up to Sister Mary Sarah.
Sudden terror struck him. The sister. The military man said six, so he would have her. If he knew the dentist was here, he would know the sister was American. He would have two for ransom. And who knows what else? And, most puzzling, where was the dentist? Stefen? He couldn’t walk. But, they hadn’t found him yet, as the noise of searching still filled the mission.
Hope.
He prayed, “Save us,” and left it at that. Summoning all of his strength, he stumbled out of bed and to his closet for something to wear. He had no idea of what he could do. But, the military man left him alone, so he would do something.
posted by John | 8:57 PM
1 Comments:
About time you posted an update...thought for a bit you were trying to steal my record!
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