TCA

The Zinter house on U Street was turned into a ransacked mess. A hooded invader held Gabriel at knife point while two others searched through it. What they were looking for was the Windgate, the Shahar Haruach, which they kept calling the Killing Relic. It was nowhere to be found and Gabriel wasn’t volunteering the information.

So Gabriel was marched at knife point to hyz own backyard and hung by ropes from a basketball hoop. Despite hyz height, Gabriel’s feet, tied together around the ankles, dangled a few inches over the concrete of the patio.

“Cut his shirt off so he’s not wasting my time.”

Gabriel recognized the voice as belonging to that of Johnny Sunkel.

“Where is it?” a second voice said.

Gabriel knew that kid’s name too. It was Larry Porter. He said. “Where is what?”

A whistle and a crack. A six inch welt appeared on his back but Gabriel didn’t make a sound. B’nei Elohim are absolutely immune to torture.

“The Killing Relic, asshole!”

“We turned the Temple upside-down,” said Johnny. “We turned your house upside-down. Where is it?”

“I don’t know, Johnny. When I need it for Last Rites on Wednesdays Ariel gives it to me.”

The whip struck again and drew blood this time. The skin on Gabriel’s back split open with a cloud of red mist.

“Bullshit! And you don’t know my name!”

“Johnny Sunkel.”

Johnny hit him again, harder. On the backstroke the whip caught one of the other boys on the back of his leg and that kid screamed, even though he was wearing blue jeans. When the boy cursed out Johnny hy recognized the voice as belonging to Scott Hilling.

Scott said, “You Red Wingers don’t get to marry our white girls, Shybear. That was the arrangement going way back and you know it.”

“Your white girls, Scotty? When was the last time you got laid?”

That little remark bought Gabriel a fourth stroke.

“Make sure you fellows keep going until I bleed out,” Gabriel said, “and hide my body. If Jothan finds out you did this to me he’ll pick over your feet for a whole weekend with a blowtorch and knives like they were leftover turkey.”

Johnny didn’t care about the threat. “This is gonna pinch some.”

With the fifth blow it become apparent that what they were doing to Gabriel was a very ugly thing to do to any human being. They could start to see a layer of white fat under the shredded skin. When Scott and Larry saw that they turned away and puked.

Gabriel knew it was time to do hyz dance. He twisted his right hand to reach into a small hidden bubble of reality that perpetually followed him. His fingers returned to view holding the Windgate. With his teeth he extended the black shaft about a foot and cut the rope binding his left hand.

Then he switched the artifact to his free hand and cut himself down from the basketball hoop.

Johnny aimed the whip at his face but Gabriel let it fly into the Shahar Haruach while it was fully deployed as a shield. The black dome simply ate the flexible part of the whip, leaving just a riding crop for Johnny to swing.

Gabriel cut his legs free. The boys ran away, but Gabriel was in no condition to run after any of them.

They were lucky to leave when they did. Neighbors heard the attack on the Zinter household from the beginning and called it in. They escaped only moments before two deputies arrived.

At the little hospital that served Headwater, Sheriff Rod Walker asked if Gabriel saw who it was that messed him up.

“I don’t know, sir. There were three of them. They wore black hoods over their faces. They also messed up my house and they told me they messed up the Temple.”

“And did they also tell you why they were doing it?”

“They said they didn’t appreciate me marrying one of ‘their’ white girls, sir.”

The sheriff appraised his back. “I can’t imagine how much that smarts.”

“Not any worse than the last time it happened, sir.”

“The last time? You’ve been flogged before?”

“Yes sir,” said Gabriel, and his eyes drifted towards Doctor Wahkan.

“It’s a Kuwapi thing, Sheriff Walker. The young men of the People frequently camp out on the plains overnight and have at each other to see how much they can stand.” The doctor turned to Gabriel and winked. “How long until they found out you were cheating and got tired of that game?”

“Not very long,” said Gabriel, winking back. “But they came up with a new game called Peace Pipe where we have at each other in a completely different way.”

The sheriff made a sour face and quickly departed.

Jothan paid a visit later in the day. When he saw Gabriel lying face down in a hospital gown with his back bandaged up against infection he said, “What the hell is this?”

“Keystone Cops, with a whip.”

“Who?”

Gabriel didn’t want to spill it. Johnny, maybe, deserved what was coming but the other two were just stupid kids who fell in the the wrong fellow.

“You know the rules, Gabe. We gotta keep this crap from happening again.” He guestured at his back. “Obviously our deterrence needs some freshening up.”

Gabriel remained silent. Jothan tried running a hand up the back of his cousin’s bare thigh affectionately but Gabriel warned him off. “I’m spoken for now, Jothan.”

“Tell me who did it.”

Gabriel sighed. It’s not like he didn’t warn them. “Okay! Johnny Sunkel, Larry Porter, and Scott Hilling. I told ’em they better finish me off, otherwise Thanksgiving would come way early this year.”

Jothan unsheathed his ceremonial blade and held it up, smiling. Plains Indians knew something about retribution. He said, “Gobble gobble.”

When Earl Warner came to the hospital three days later certainly it was not to visit Gabriel, who had been released the same day he checked in. Instead he came to see Gabriel’s attackers.

Dr. Wahkan was still muttering about the “animals” who had slowly turned their feet into so much ruined hamburger, requiring a clean amputation of each one.

Every time the three boys were visited after their surgery, first by their parents, then by the sheriff, and finally by Warner, they took to sobbing miserably. It was not so much from the pain they were still suffering but from the memory of the hell they had already suffered. Their tormentors worked day and night, in shifts, just like Gabriel told them would happen.

The perpetrators wore no hoods and even gave their real names as they went about their bloody business. Yet even now their victims refused to identify them at all, other than to say they were Indians.

“Where’s the Killing Relic?” Hansen demanded.

“Gabriel had it the whole time.”

“You searched him, strung him up like a pig for slaughter, and horsewhipped him, but he had it on him the whole time? So where did he have the relic hidden, Johnny, in his asshole?”

“I don’t know!”

“Did you mention he ought to forget all about the Zinter girl and every other white girl in the Church, or did that slip your mind too?”

“I did tell him,” Scott Hilling whined, “but he wouldn’t listen to me! What’s the world coming to when you can’t even get a little respect?”

“Jesus H. Christ on a crutch!” yelled the Prophet of the Reformed Headwater Fellowship. “Well, I guess it’s true what they say, if you want something done right, you gotta do it yourself.”

When Alfred Shoenherr and Earl Warner approached the Temple office the door was opened by Gabriel an instant before they pounded on it. Earl said. “How did you do that, son?”

“The Seer foresaw that you were about to knock,” hy said, and that was absolutely true. But in the office Alfred and Earl saw no one except Gabriel, Dory, Jael and Ariel. It soon became apparent the men knew Doriel only by name. Quelle surprise the former Elder and Deacon never troubled to get to really know anyone outside of the White Wing of the Church.

“I came to speak to the Seer.”

Dory pointed to Ariel and told him, “Sha’s right there.”

“All I see are three kids who broke into the Temple and are running loose. Where’s Jashen Shybear?”

Gabriel said. “He’s in a better place.”

“He’s dead?”

“No,” said Ariel, “but he blamed himself for the schism and stepped down.”

“He was right to blame himself, but if he left you in charge he must have gone demented in the end.”

Alfred threw in his two cents. “It is written, ‘I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over men.'”

“You’re going to have to show me a little respect, fellas,” said Ariel, “as I am indeed the Seer of the Headwater Fellowship, notwithstanding whatever Shaul may have written in the First Century about womenfolk.”

Alfred was incredulous. “May have written?”

“The pastoral epistles are not part of the undisputed Pauline corpus. Did you even go to the Academy, Mr. Warner? No? And you want to be officers of the Church?”

Disgusted, Ariel reached into a desk drawer and withdrew a leather-bound green book.

“I know you’ve seen this before, Mr. Warner. It’s Joshua Lange’s handwritten copy of the Book of Green Dome. He called it the Printer’s Manuscript. The first few sheets on the inside cover are an official Church document.”

The first entry on the inside cover said APOSTLE JOSHUA LANGE, SEER, SEP 1, 1866, followed by Lange’s signature.

This entry was followed by the First Decree, which read, THE SEER OF THE CHURCH SHALL CHOOSE, FROM THE WING OF THE CHURCH OF WHICH HE IS NOT A PART, ONE WHO SHALL HOLD THE OFFICE OF ELDER. It was dated Sep. 1, 1866 and also signed by Joshua Lange.

This was followed by the Second Decree, which read, IN THE EVENT OF THE DEATH OR RESIGNATION OF THE SEER, THE ELDER SHALL ATTAIN TO THAT OFFICE, dated and certified Sep. 1, 1866.

The next entry, in the same handwriting, read, JASHEN SHYBEAR, ELDER, SEP. 1, 1866, followed by Jashen’s mark and again certified by Lange’s initials. Ariel said, “We hold September first to be the day of the founding of the Headwater Fellowship, seventy-six years ago.”

The next entry was written in a different hand. It said, SEER JOSHUA LANGE, RESIGNED, MAR. 6, 1930, and this was initialed by Jashen. A diagonal line was drawn through the remaining blank space to the bottom of the inside cover and this, too, was initialed by Jashen.

The next entry on the inside cover pages of the Printer’s Manuscript said, SEER JOSHUA LANGE, RESIGNED, MAR. 6, 1930, and this was initialed by Jashen. The facing page read, ELDER JASHEN SHYBEAR, SEER, MAR. 6, 1930 and this was signed and initialed by Jashen.

The second line on that page read, MR. EARL WARNER, ELDER, OCT 9, 1931, signed by Jashen and Earl. Ariel showed Warner the entry and said, “Until I read this myself I wasn’t even aware the Church had gone so long without an Elder. Did Jashen find the choice such a difficult one he was willing to risk breaking the order of succession with his own death?”

Earl said, “At the time you were probably too young to care about Church politics. We forced Jashen’s hand and made him create the office of Deacon to prevent it from ever happening again.”

“Almighty Earl,” sneered Jael. “You forced him.”

“Jael, please. Anyway, that does explain the next line.” Jashen had writ ten a Third Decree on the same day as the appointment of Warner. THE SEER SHALL APPOINT, FROM ALTERNATING WINGS OF THE CHURCH, A DEACON TO SERVE THE SPIRITUAL AND MATERIAL NEEDS OF THE WHOLE CHURCH. IN THE EVENT OF THE DEATH OR RESIGNATION OF THE ELDER, THE DEACON SHALL ATTAIN TO THAT OFFICE.

The following line read MR. ALFRED SHOENHERR, DEACON, Oct. 9, 1931. This was signed by Alfred, and initialed by Jashen.

Ariel asked the visitors, “Does everything appear to be in order, gentlemen?”

Alfred nodded agreement, and Earl said it appeared to be so. So Ariel indicated the next line, which was so recent none of the men had ever seen it: ANY OFFICE OF THE CHURCH SHALL NOT BE TERMINATED EXCEPT IN THE CASE OF THE DEATH OR RESIGNATION OF THE OFFICEHOLDER. This was signed by Jashen and dated January 10, 1943.

Sha said, “Jashen told us the Fourth Decree be came necessary following the events of Wednesday the 5th of January instant, when you went out from us. But let us go on.”

The next line read ELDER EARL WARNER, RESIGNED, JAN. 10, 1943, and this was signed by Jashen. Warner grew angry and objected to that. “No! I never resigned from the Church!”

“I was there in that barn you call your temple,” Ariel countered. “I’m White Wing, remember? You introduced yourself as the Prophet of the Reformed Headwater Fellowship, with Mr. Shoenherr as your Apostle.”

“What of it?”

“When your words reached the ears of our previous Seer he took them to be your official resignation as our Elder. How did he put it, Dory?”

“My father said, ‘No man can serve two masters, for either he will hate the one, and love the other; or else he will hold to the one, and despise the other.'”

Ariel said, “In fine, Mr. Warner and Mr. Shoenherr, if you’re an officer in the Reformed Headwater Fellowship you cannot also be an officer in the actual Headwater Fellowship.”

Ariel hardly needed to tell them what the next line said, but she did any way. It read MRS. ARIEL SHYBEAR, ELDER, JAN. 10, 1943. Ariel had signed it, and Jashen had initialed.

“The upshot of all this, Mr. Warner, is that in the view of Seer Jashen Shybear you quit, and he chose me to replace you. And Gabriel was chosen to replace you, Mr. Shoenherr, by precisely the same principle.” She turned the Codex to let them both see.

When Ariel advanced to the next item written on the page, reading SEER JASHEN SHYBEAR, RESIGNED, JAN. 10, 1943 and carrying his signature, it finally seemed to grab the attention of Shoenherr and Warner. She said, “Now I will show you gentlemen how we closed out that rather eventful Sunday.”

She flipped the page over and showed everyone the next entry: ELDER ARIEL SHYBEAR, SEER, JAN. 10, 1943. This was signed and initialed by Ariel, exer cising her authority as Elder under the Second Decree.

Underneath that was the final entry in the manuscript, which read MISS DORIEL SHYBEAR, ELDER, JAN. 10, 1943. This was signed by Ariel and affirmed by Deacon Gabriel. Ariel said. “Now that we have established our creden tials as officers of the Church, what have you come to say?”

“There’s an FBI agent named Bill Sloane who is looking for you and your brother.”

“Gosh, I think you’re right, Mr Warner. I guess you better call it in. I’ll have to resign. That means Dory becomes the Seer.”

Earl was silent while he gnawed through his options. At length he realized he had to go along with these foolish kids playing clergy. He said, “We pray for the reunion of the Church. Were the Killing Relic to alternate in possession between members of the red and white wings, as the office of Deacon presently does, that would go a long way towards sealing the breach.”

“So link the office of Deacon to the Windgate? That is easily enough done.” Sha took up her pen and wrote in the leaves of the Green Book, THE WINDGATE SHALL REMAIN IN THE POSSESSION OF THE DEACON OF THE CHURCH AS MINISTER OF THE LAST RITE. And she dated it January 15, 1943.

This was not entirely to the liking of Warner, who imagined the sacred relic somehow caused the one who possessed it to age very slowly, but he could think of no way to object to it. “That is acceptable, if and only if you enter a Fifth Decree that enshrines God’s eternal and immutable law forbid ding non-consanguineous marriage.”

“Again, that is easily done.” Kim inked the following into the manuscript: MARRIAGE IN THE CHURCH OF GREEN DOME SHALL BE SOLELY BETWEEN PERSONS WHO SHARE AT LEAST ONE GRANDPARENT, OR AT LEAST ONE GREAT-GRANDPARENT, UPON PAIN OF EXCOMMUNICATION. She dated it January 15, 1943 and signed it.

“Good. Now, when do you announce the end of your engagement?”

“Never. The decrees of the Church don’t work ex post fucto.” Ariel displayed har wedding ring and Gabriel flashed hez own. Sha did not mention they were wed in Kemen and they’d been married for a year already, because he would never believe it and he would just be confused anyway, as confused as he would be should Ariel reveal she was the daughter of Joshua and Miriam Lange.

For hyz part Gabriel found it hard to believe that his wife needed to remind Warner of the contents of sacred scripture. Hy said, “Yeshua himself taught that if a woman puts aside her husband to marry another she commits adultery against him. That’s one of the Lord’s non-negotiables.”

“I wonder why you look so surprised, Mr. Warner,” Ariel added. “You must not have been paying attention to how I signed my entries in the Green Book as Mrs. Shybear rather than Miss Zinter.”

Warner and Shoenherr stood up ready to depart in a huff.

“I agreed to see you fellows today,” said Ariel, “but if you act like a couple of Academy high school students and storm out for not getting your own way, it will be the last time I ever agree to meet with you.”

It was a serious threat. With her talent Ariel could easily avoid such-an-such a place at such-and-such a time and they would never bump into each other again. It was the same way she kept herself and Jael out of Bill Sloane’s clutches.

Earl dug in his heels. “It is you, rather, dear so-called Seer, who has one slim slim chance to reunite the Church. Alfred is Deacon again and I’m the Elder again or the reunion will never come to be. Those terms are nonnegotiable.”

Ariel sighed and turned to her husband. “Will you, Gabriel, resign the office of deacon?”

“I will not.”

“You can’t push a rope,” said Earl, and he resumed his preparations to leave the office with Shoenherr, muttering a string of curses that com pletely obscured what Dory was quietly saying. Ariel asked Dory to repeat herself. “I said I will resign as Elder of the Church.”

The foul language coming from Warner trailed off to silence.

Ariel opened the Printer’s Manuscript of the Green Book once more and penned the following entry: ELDER DORIEL SHYBEAR, RESIGNED, JAN. 15, 1943. Dory signed it and Ariel entered her initials. Then she said, “It’s done. The office of Elder is vacant. Will you, Mr. Warner, or Mr Shoenherr, take her place, or is not getting Deacon still a sticking point?”

Earl turned to Alfred. “A temporary setback, I assure you. One that will be remedied soon enough.” Alfred nodded his assent. Earl said, “Very well, Mrs. Shybear, I will take the office of Elder. Make the appropriate entry.”

She did notice that he declined to call her Seer Shybear. So petty. She could think of no one less qualified for the job he so desperately wanted back. Sighing, she wrote MR. EARL WARNER, ELDER, JAN. 15, 1943 and turned the book for his inspection and signature. When he was done, Ariel applied her initials. Then she said, “I just had a vivid daydream of someone in in 2043 reading this and wondering what it must have been like, this whole sudden flurry.”

Alfred said, “The Reformed Church is gathering this morning to meet down at the new temple. Will you meet with them, Mrs. Shybear, and affirm our schism has reached an end?”

“I will not do so,” sha said.

“Why not?”

“As you previously mentioned, there’s an FBI agent looking for me. I can keep him out of the Temple, but who knows about your barn? He might be down there already waiting for me to show up.”

In point of fact sha knew the barn was completely empty.

“I can go down there and send most of the people packing,” Warner said.

“Why not all of the people?”

“One of our parishioners passed away during our little disagreement. The deacon should perform the Last Rites today.”

Dory was incredulous. “You want to have the Last Rites in a barn?”

“With the Seer present as well,” added Alfred. “It would do much to bring healing between the Red and White Wings of the Church.”

“This matter should wait until Wednesday,” said Ariel. “By our tradition that’s when Gabriel can perform the Last Rites properly here in the actual Temple.”

“But it has already been a week,” said Earl. “The poor lady is beginning to grow unpresentable.”

Ariel sighed. “We should do it, Gabriel. It’s of a piece with the other thing Sophia told me about.”

“Back at Hell’s Half Acre you were dead set against doing the other thing Sophia told you about.”

“That was a moment of weakness. Now I fully trust Binah to take care of me.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to watch it,” said Dory.

Ariel, Gabriel and Dory were speaking of Ariel’s impeding death but Alfred Shoenherr completely misunderstood them. He said to Dory, “You wouldn’t be welcome down there anyway.”

Dory caught Ariel’s eye. “I don’t recognize my own church anymore.”

Ariel saw how utterly sad her friend had become and moved in close to comfort her.

Gabriel said, “Last Rites on such short notice. I need to go fetch the Windgate.”

“Then go fetch it,” prodded Earl.

“It’s not here in the Temple.”

“I got a truck,” said Alfred.

“The location of the Windgate is classified,” said Gabriel. “You’re not an officer of the Church.”

“That’s not a problem,” said Warner. “Alfred can drive Ariel down to the new temple and I’ll take you in my own truck to fetch the Killing Relic.”

Ariel and Gabriel agreed to this arrangement. They shared a long kiss be fore they parted, one more thing to throw in the face of their tormentors.

Gabriel’s talent as one of the B’nei Elohim was such that the Windgate was always near at hand. He could have pulled it out of the next mailbox down the road if he so desired. Since this Earl bozo and his buddy were about to kill his wife, no matter how temporary that would really be, Gabriel thought he would have a little fun. He said, “We need to go to Lake 13.”

“The Killing Relic is at Lake 13?”

“Not at Lake 13, sir. In Lake 13.”

“The lake is frozen!”

“I’ll make a hole.”

Earl muttered various oaths, then made the appropriate turns. After a pause, he said, “The sight of you kissing that girl was disgusting, do you know that? You’re not cousins. Hell, you’re not even the same species!”

Gabriel found it difficult to conceal his own disgust with the way Warner looked at the world, but it was something that infected half the Church. And he was wrong in any event. Ariel actually was his first cousin.

He said, “Sir, the Bible and the Book of Green Dome acknowledge only ethnic differences. We read of peoples and kindreds and tongues, but no whites and blacks and yellow men and red men. Races are artificial things.”

“What the hell do you mean races are artificial? Are you asking me to doubt what I can see with my own two God-given eyes?”

“Sir, consider the aborigine people in Australia. They have Caucasian and Mongoloid genes, but they are as dark as Negroids. It only has to do with where you live and how you’ve adapted to the sun. Even Lord Yeshua was a handsome coffee-with-cream brown.”

Warner grew angry at that last remark and pulled his truck over to the side of the road. “Jesus was brown? Get out. I can’t stand to be anywhere near a blasphemer, let alone one who entices white women to become traitors to their own race.”

“And the Last Rites, sir? Don’t you have a barn with some of the faithful waiting for me?”

“What would be the point of sanctifying a body if the minister of the Rite is a blasphemer? The Lord is the color of coffee? Get out!”

Gabriel did as he was commanded. Earl Warner peeled out in the snow, leaving Gabe stranded on the side of the road. Hy decided to hoof it back to the Temple where hyz sister was waiting.

Outside of Headwater the borders of South Dakota, Nebraska, and Wyoming came together at a single point in a little fenced-off corral. When Warner arrived he saw that only Alfred Shoenherr’s truck was parked there, and only Shoenherr could be seen standing in the lot. A bloody lump of dead and naked girl flesh lay at his feet. She was covered with blood that was almost cool enough to freeze.

Alfred stood there staring at Ariel’s body, not quite believing that he actually did it. He kept repeating, “I’m going to hell!”

“Shut up, Alfred. You’d only go to hell if you didn’t do it. Did she put up much of a fight?”

Alfred shook his head. “No. That’s the damndest part of all this. She put up no fight at all.”

“Is that the knife?”

Alfred nodded. He had entirely forgotten about the murder weapon, even while it was still grasped in his gloved hand. That tiny fact disturbed Earl most of all. Alfred’s invincible stupidity could be their undoing.

Earl said, “We can’t afford to be caught anywhere near that thing. Throw it away right now. Anywhere. But throw it as far as you can.”

Alfred hurled the blade off to the snowy waste in one of the neighboring states. He didn’t even know which one. It flashed in the morning sunlight and disappeared from view.

Earl said, “Good. Now help me lift her on this.”

There was a short post and a sign about chest high that marked the exact place where the three states came together. This sign was canted at a forty-five degree angle. They draped Ariel’s body across the sign, letting her head and arms bend backwards and her legs droop down. It looked positively New Testament.

Between Ariel’s legs was a little pink doughnut instead of the usual vertical lips, and the men wondered about that for a bit. Then Warner circled the area a few times to make damn sure Alfred hadn’t dropped anything. The snow was covered with their footprints and the girl’s blood but there was no debris. He said, “Walk with me back to my truck.”

In the bed of his pickup were two sets of coats and clothing laid out beside a cardboard box. New boots were up front in the cab. The men took off the boots they were wearing and threw them in the box, along with their blood stained coats, shirts and trousers. In the cold of high plains January Earl and Alfred quickly put on new outer garments, then stood there in the snow with their socks getting wet.

“Cheer up, Alfred! I’m the Seer now. You’re going to be the Elder. We just saved the Church, you and I. If that girl had any children it would have meant the end of both the White Wing and the Red Wing. There wouldn’t be anymore wings, just an unholy hodge-podge of mud people growing like a cancer on the Church until it ate everything.”