Latter-Day of the Dead (11 page)

“I s’pose that was traditionally done,” Verdell agreed, tossing the potato sack to Kib. “Y’all stay back here until it is time to bring Benjamin up.”

Verdell went around front to address the parishioners. We stood on high alert this time, not letting our guard down for a moment around Benjamin. No one talked, and the eye contact went away while we awaited word.

The opening prayer had been completed by the time Verdell sent for us. There was a quiet commotion in the crowd as everyone tried to get a glimpse of Benjamin. We brought him up to a wooden step ladder that sat under a heavy branch of the oak tree. Kib grabbed my arm for guidance to the correct spot. I pivoted back to see he had placed the potato sack over his head, but no one had cut eye holes in it.

“Take that off, Kib. I’ll cut some eye holes out.”

“No. I can’t let anyone know it’s me.”

“You might have wanted to make a different outfit choice then,” I half-joked, staring at the light blue suit again.

“What do you mean?” he asked with concern, looking just to the left of where he was guessing I was.

“Nevermind, Kib.”

Verdell stood atop an apple crate so everyone could see him. “My brothers, it pains me to see Satan’s influence work its way into our homes, but it has. And I hope you all see the damage and destruction that can be caused by following the ways of the wicked. We have lost two of God’s children at the hands of evil. But you can know with certainty that immoralities like this will be met with equitable retribution. The Devil himself will know his rancor has no place amongst our brethren, and we will thwart any future attempts with the same vigor and vengeance. With undoubted certitude, I hereby sentence Brother Benjamin Gardner to death.”

With that said Benjamin was escorted to the ladder and led up to the second-to-last step. Two men stood one step below and strained to keep their balance and remove the birdcage from Benjamin’s head. Once it was off they quickly placed the rope around his neck and jumped off the ladder.

I scanned the crowd and saw uneasiness on many of the faces. They could now see the soulless blackened eyes and Benjamin’s decrepit skin with the birdcage discarded. A few of the mothers were covering their children’s eyes.

Kib had me walk him over to the base of the ladder. A blue-suited, potato sack-hooded hangman posing next to a possessed killer standing on a step ladder with a rope around his neck was quite the sight. I felt sick to my stomach again.

“Should I just kick it?” Kib whispered to me, but again looking to the left of where I was. I just moved to where he was looking to make it easier.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Okay, line me up.”

I positioned him at the side of the ladder, figuring it was a good angle.

“It’s right in front of you when you are ready, Kib.”

He took his time just standing there. It was hard to tell what he was thinking with the potato sack masking all emotional tells. His leg began to twitch, like he was trying to convince his brain to kick the ladder and be done with it.

Finally ready, he took one step forward and swung his foot straight into the side of the ladder. There was a perceptible gasp from the crowd when his foot hit, but he didn’t kick very hard. The ladder shook but remained standing. Everyone looked to Benjamin for his reaction. He swayed but maintained his balance.

Once he reconfirmed his footing he snarled loudly at the crowd. The front row all pushed back into the rest of the group at the sound, with a few letting out a scream themselves in fear.

“Is it over?” Kib asked through his shroud.

“No. You have to kick it harder this time,” I explained.

Kib was realigned for a second attempt. Benjamin would not look away from the crowd, continuing to snarl at them in an animalistic, lecherous way.

“Hurry and do it!” someone from the crowd anonymously yelled.

Before Kib could convince himself to give another, harder kick, Benjamin gnashed his teeth at the masses. He put his left foot on the top of the ladder and inexplicably leapt at the crowd. Folks roared in panic, unprepared for the attempted attack.

Benjamin soared shortly through the air before the rope around his neck snapped him back. His body swung back, crashing into the ladder. The ladder crashed on top of Kib, who couldn’t see what was happening. He and the ladder tumbled onto the ground, creating a small dust cloud.

Benjamin’s body swung violently from the tree, the rope gripping tightly onto his neck. The tree branch creaked from the burden. The catheter bag I had given him for his injury swung out of his pant leg.

He became quiet and the swinging momentum slowed. The measured sway reminded me of the pendulum in the grandfather clock my dad has in our living room. I will never look at that oak tree the same way I used to.

The small group of us that walked Benjamin out gathered around the hanging figure to get him down.

“Leave him,” Verdell ordered.

“What?” I asked.

“Leave him. He will not be afforded an honorable death or burial. This image will serve all as a reminder to those who choose to forsake Christ and the Brethren of the Last Days. Leave him.”

“For how long?” I asked, already knowing not to.

“As long as I see fit, Brother Elias.”

***

The pensive group of onlookers slowly migrated into the church. The usual lively chatter amongst the parishioners was absent. Kib removed the potato sack and entered the church with me. The blue of his suit was now tempered by a scattered coating of dust from his fall.

“How are you, Elias?”

I turned to see Keturah, aglow in a long, yellow prairie dress with white lace cuffing her wrists and neck. She was a welcomed sight for my increasingly heavy, dry eyes.

“I am well, Keturah Dawn, thank you.”

“You’ve always been an awful liar, but I s’pose that’s a good thing.” She smiled warmly, adding to her glow. “And Brother Kib! Are you all right? It looked like that ladder hit you pretty hard.”

“Me? Oh no, no, Miss Keturah…I think that may have been…someone else,” he fumbled.

“Oh, well,” she paused while looking over his dusted suit, “I must be mistaken, I apologize.”

“No problem. I think it was someone that wasn’t me. I’m pretty sure.”

“Okay,” she agreed while he walked away, spooked that he was pointed out.

“But it most definitely was him, right?” Keturah asked me once Kib was out of earshot.

“Most definitely.” We shared a smile and for the first time during this bedlam I felt at peace.

Keturah was such a natural comfort for me. Everything in my body told me I was supposed to spend eternity with her. Why would that feeling be so unyielding if it were not part of the Lord’s plan?

People continued to file into seats in the church before sermon. Keturah and I took a seat next to each other. I had never in my times heard the group so quiet. Many of them were probably trying to appropriately process what they just witnessed.

“So…do you think you will go through with it?” I pried.

“Go through with what?” she asked while opening her book of hymns.

“That was way too forward of me. It’s none of my business.”

“Wait…Elias Quinn!” Keturah looked in all directions to see if anyone is listening. “Are you talking about going through with marrying the prophet? Why would you ask such a thing?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“You ask as if I have some choice. What if I didn’t go through with it? How would that play out for me?”

“Poorly,” I responded weakly.

“It is best not to fill our heads with options based in impossibilities.”

“You’re right. These deaths have gotten to me. I’m questioning things I’ve never questioned before. The finality of these matters has me looking at my own time here.”

“Well, yeah I get that I guess,” she began, “but are you questioning what I do because you care about me in that sort of way?”

I sat back against the bench and let out a sigh. “No point filling our heads with more impossibilities, right?”

chapter nine

I
couldn’t tell you any of the morality shared over the next hour of church service. I was inside my own head, replaying all of the recent turmoil. I thought about myself. About Keturah. About Benjamin’s body dangling in the breeze outside.

After the last hymn was sung I snapped out of it, knowing Verdell would be dismissing us with final prayer. I rubbed my face with both hands to help keep myself in the present.

Verdell stood poised at the podium. I stared at the crimson mark smeared across his face, shamefully wondering how Keturah could honestly look at him lovingly for the rest of her life and all eternity. He was an elderly, stain-faced man. I actually shook my head before telling myself to stop.

“Brothers,” Verdell started, “dark days are brought to us from time to time to ensure we see the true glory of the bright days afforded us. We must show genuine appreciation for the joy our lives are. As your leader I will take the responsibility to pull you out of these dark days in the name of the Lord. I prayed long and hard, searching for an answer. God said we must show our resilience. We must create the bright days we seek. And with that, I see our opportunity to not wait for the next day of glory, but to turn this very day itself into one of celebration. We will outshine the darkness of earlier today by making this evening one where we celebrate God’s plan. We will move the marriage he himself has asked to see between Keturah Dawn and myself to this evening. We will show him that the Devil showed his face and we stood strong, and we will triumphantly continue along God’s path.”

People were clapping or cheering or something. I stopped listening. Keturah stood and was swarmed by the usual well-wishers. I stayed seated and was swallowed up by the crowd. I couldn’t see anything. I stopped trying.

I fought through the crowd and headed down the front steps of the church. Everyone else was still inside celebrating the announcement. Was I really the only person that did not want them to wed? Since I was still the only person outside it appeared so. I felt alone. Just me and a pendulous body in the oak tree.

Out of morbid curiosity, and needing to get my mind on other things, I walked over to look at Benjamin’s remains suspended in the tree. He was once one of us. I kept thinking about that as I drew closer.

His feet were right at my eye’s level. I looked up at what I thought would be a listless face. I could have been seeing things, but it looked like Benjamin’s eyes were moving back and forth under his closed eyelids. I stepped back to look from a different angle, figuring maybe I was seeing the shadows of branches flitting across his face. It still looked like his eyes were moving.

The rope was clenched around his neck so tightly that maybe it was causing the twitching. My studies never covered strangulation, so it could have been anyone’s guess at that point. The only thing I could think to do to satisfy my curiosity was to check his pulse.

I let one of the families exiting the church walk past before grabbing the ladder that was still lying on the ground. I would need to be fast before the retiring crowds, or more importantly Verdell, saw me messing with the body. I moved the ladder to the right of Benjamin.

In moving so quickly I stepped on a large branch that snapped loudly against the silent yard. I flinched at the noise and looked straight to Benjamin. I can’t say for sure but it did look like his eyes moved to the direction of the sound under the closed eyelids. I stood still for a moment and watched nervously before stepping to the ladder.

My eyes stayed on Benjamin while I cautiously climbed each ladder step closer to him. My heart raced. I couldn’t help but hold my breath once I got up close enough to be face to face. At that point I had already built a pretty good argument on why I should have stopped a few rungs down and just checked his pulse on his wrist.

The uncontrolled shaking of my hand as it reached towards Benjamin’s cadaverous neck made it hard to stay balanced on the ladder. I could see red blistering on the part of his neck the rope was gripping relentlessly. His skin was cold. I pressed my index and middle finger against his neck multiple times trying to find a pulse. Nothing.

Before heading back down the ladder I studied his shifting eyelids. I leaned closer for inspection and conservatively said, “Benjamin?”

His eyes opened halfway, exposing his pitch-black eyeballs. Startled, I moved back quickly, losing my balance and falling from the ladder. I landed square on my back. If I had to describe the fall in two words at that time I probably wouldn’t have been able to because it knocked the wind out of me.

I gasped unsuccessfully for air while on all fours in the dust. I crawled towards the base of the tree, unsure of what Benjamin was doing above me. A crowd of people that were leaving the church heard the commotion and headed over but kept their distance. Sitting against the tree I was finally able to catch my breath.

Benjamin’s eyes were now partially open, but he was not moving. I got myself to my feet while keeping my eyes on him. The gathering crowd was trying to figure out what I was doing.