“I’m returning two prodigals to the fold,” she said. “Though prodigal probably isn’t the right term. They didn’t run away. They were sold to Poppa Poppy by one of your devoted parishioners.” There was just as much confrontation in her voice, and just as much distaste, with an extra added edge of sarcasm.
Pastor Pureway’s frown deepened. “You are mistaken. None of my flock would do such a thing.”
“You are either a liar or a fool. No, I take that back. You’re both, and we both know it. Your repulsive little cult might as well live in a prison camp. No surprise people would want to escape any way they can. Being here sure makes me want to get fucked up big-time.”
His upper lip curled and his face reddened with anger. “You are a sinner, coarse and unredeemed.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Trub agreed with a grin. “Much as I’d love to spend the rest of the day pissing you off, I’m a busy woman and I’ve got more dirty jobs to handle after I finish with you. So here’s the deaclass="underline" When your people sell their children, children you condemn as being lesser beings since they weren’t conceived by your brain-damaged rules, the stink is on you since you’ve set yourself up as the one in charge. Breaking the rules like this will not be tolerated. If it happens again you will be punished.”
The man drew himself up stiffly. “Only God rules here.”
Trub laughed in his face. “Yeah, right. Like it or not, the B’hlug are in charge here. They can send your puckered butt back to Earth any time they want, and it’s only their fascination with just how stupid people can act that’s keeping you here. They provide your air, your light, and most of what you eat and use. You are here on their sufferance. They are tolerant—far more tolerant than I am. But the mistreatment and selling of children will not be tolerated. By me or them. That’s the law here. Period.”
The cult leader wasn’t having any of it. “We follow the dictates of God, not alien heathens.”
“No, you make shit up and call it commandments.” She got right in his face. “I swear, if this happens again I’ll ship your ass back to Earth and dump you in the worst place I can find. I’ll empty Purity and scatter everyone in it all across the Hoop, arranging it so none of them ever find any of the others. Now get out of my way so I can talk to these kids’ families.”
The big preacher stared hard at her, lips white and muscles jumping in his jaw. Trub was a foot shorter and weighed half as much but radiated such furious energy and coiled menace that he had no choice but to back down. He turned abruptly and stalked back toward the village.
I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
Trub’s face softened, but only slightly as she turned her attention to the two women and one man who had accompanied their leader. They shrank back, tense and frightened as arrestees before a hanging judge.
“I know it wasn’t you who sold these poor kids to Poppa Poppy.” She pointed at one woman. “You, Sandy, it was your husband Clay, and I know Purity rules say you can’t have any say in what he does. You two are their aunt and uncle, tried to stop him, but failed. I’m releasing them back to you. But I warn you, unless Clay quits huffing what Poppa Poppy is selling because he can’t cope with the way that charlatan runs things, he’s going to do that or something even worse again.”
“I’m so sorry,” the kids’ mother said in a small voice. She could not look directly at Trub, but peered fearfully out from under hanging bangs. Her face wore a look I had seen before, seen too much when I did some posto for a women’s shelter.
“Then do something about it!” Trub’s voice was harsh enough to make them flinch. “Grab these kids and take a mystery door somewhere else. Get away from this cheapjack pulpit-thumper while you still have some self-respect left. He’s no holier than you or me; he’s a sadistic control-freak and a bully. If you want to let him ruin your lives, I can’t stop you. But there isn’t the slightest goddamn thing righteous about putting children in danger.”
I had kept my mouth shut so far. Not that I didn’t have things I wanted to say; my tongue was nearly bloody from being bitten. I was baffled by Trub’s returning the kids to the very people whose knothead beliefs had put them in danger. I wasn’t going to say anything about that in front of these lames, and thought maybe I wouldn’t need to if I helped Trub drive her point home.
“I just got here today,” I said. The cult members seemed to find it easier to look at me than Trub. She stared at me blankly, as if mildly surprised I could talk.
“Just a few hours ago I had a whole gang trying to kill me. They almost did too.” I shook my head. “Poppa Poppy makes them look like a bunch of Muppets. He’s a monster. He’s—” I tried to summon an image that would resonate with them, that would bang their brain like gongs. “He’s the Beast. You get me? The Beast.”
I paused to let that sink in. They were staring at me wide-eyed, and the two women’s hands now clutched the heavy crosses they wore around their necks, as if my naming the Beast could summon him, and the crosses could save them.
“Listen to me,” I said, making sure I had their full attention before continuing. “That man will take whatever pleasures he wants from these or some other kids’ bodies, and he will eat their souls, slurping them down like raw oysters. And your souls will be eaten at the same time if you do nothing to prevent it.”
My spur of the moment sermon delivered, I risked a quick peek at Trub to see how she was taking my butting in. Her face was harder to read than psychedelic Arabic.
After a moment she spoke up. “I can take you away right now. Take you and these kids someplace safe, someplace nice. Your choice.”
The adults would not look at me or Trub. They wouldn’t even look at the kids, who were still clinging to me, silent and forlorn. The girl was old enough to understand that her fate was being decided. The little boy looked ready to cry. I had a hard time looking at them; it was too much of a heartbreak.
“I…” the man began.
We waited for him to say more.
Finally he shook his head. Having said nothing, he was done talking. His face and posture exuded curdled shame.
“We will try to protect them,” the aunt said, with so little force no one was reassured.
“Will you move away?” Trub demanded.
“We—we will try.” This came out even less convincing that her promise to try to protect them. “Can we have them back now?”
I looked to Trub for instructions. She nodded curtly.
Although it was the last thing I wanted to do, I handed the little guy over to his uncle. The girl let go of me but didn’t go to her mother or aunt. She stood there by herself, lost inside my coat, shivering with the effort it took to hold back tears.
Trub stared hard at the three adults with that one good eye, then spun on her heel. “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” she growled, then began walking fast, taking the path away from the village on the hill.
I hurried to catch up, taking a last glance back over my shoulder just before the path curved. The three adults and two children were together, but if there was even one single spark of joy in it, I couldn’t see it.
Trub kept walking, fast and determined. I didn’t need to be a mindreader to tell that she was trying to cool off, to put some distance between herself and the mess we had just left behind.
After a few minutes I couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Was that the right thing to do?” I asked, carefully keeping any hint of blame out of my voice.
“Probably not,” she said tonelessly.
“Then why did you do it that way?” Again sounding confused rather than accusing. Because I was confused. According to what she’d told Poppa Poppy, the Bugs gave her the juice to do damn near anything she wanted. Yet she had done very close to nothing.