Corn, Cows, and the Apocalypse (Part 1) Read online

  I sat down and started picking. Without regard to the red juice that spilled down my chin and fingers, I relished the little berries. I’m pretty sure I may have eaten a bug or two as well, but that was no matter when the little bits of fruit were so sweet.

  “What the hell do you think you are doing?” Priest’s voice bellowed over my epicurean thoughts.

  I looked back at him. He was standing over me with his hands on his hips. I couldn’t see his face, because the sun was right behind him. I couldn’t see how mad he was. I blinked against the sun and spat out the green top to my strawberry. “I was just…tasting.”

  “Tasting? Is that what you call that piggery display?” He threw out his hand, and I flinched fearing the worst. “Come with me. I’ll show you how to eat strawberries.”

  I put my hand in his and he pulled me up, tugging me back into the church. When I drug behind him instead of walking beside him, he switched his grip from my hand to around my shoulders. I was used to him being proximally drunk, but the cozy guided tour up his church aisle was out of character. The fact that I couldn’t smell alcohol on him was even more out of character.

  The moans I heard from before were still coming from two women on the steps in front of the altar. They were sharing bites of strawberries Lady and the Tramp style. After each bite they kissed and moaned with enjoyment.

  “I don’t want to eat my strawberries like that.” I said as I added a little more drag to my step.

  Priest chuckled. “They’re both high on acid. They could be sharing day old French fries and they would still think it was the most wonderful food they ever ate.”

  “Are you on acid?” I asked without thinking.

  He stopped and pulled away from me. He looked at me, and for the first time I really looked at his face. He looked well rested without the usual sagging eyelids and blood shot eyes of a pot head. His face had regained some fullness like he had actually remembered to eat. “No.”

  “Why not?” I asked, simultaneously wondering when I had taken the muzzle off my mouth.

  “I thought I could use a break.” He said and ushered me forward into the front pew. “You came to see me a couple days ago, didn’t you?” He asked before moving to the altar to pick up an extra bowl of washed and hulled strawberries.

  “You remember that?” I said sarcastically. My un-muzzled mouth was on a roll.

  “Barely,” he admitted. He returned to the pew and sat next to me. “I remember the look on your face.”

  “What was it this time? Fear, anger, pity…”

  “Disgust.” He said flatly, before I could rattle off the remaining emotions I usually felt around him. That wasn’t one I probably would have listed out loud, but it was definitely high on my list. “I disgust you, don’t I?”

  I wasn’t sure why that surprised him. He was a drugged up, orgy having, former priest. What wasn’t disgusting about that? Perhaps he just assumed that his actions were so piteous that it was beyond that level of reproach. Or maybe he just finally saw the depth of my disgust.

  I shrugged and looked away. His hand pulled my chin back so swiftly I brought my hands up to defend myself. His fingers clutched my chin, while I dug my fingernails into his wrist. He either didn’t feel it, or didn’t care. “Tell me what you really feel. I’m sober now, sober enough to hear it anyway.”

  “Get your hand off me.” I said. He released my chin, but I kept my hand around his wrist, until he relaxed back into the pew. “What do you want to know, Priest?”

  “Why do you still call me that?” He mumbled.

  “Why do you still wear your collar, when you are clearly no longer holy?”

  “Because I’m mad at God.”

  “And no one else is?” I asked. “Do you seriously think you are the only one who is dumbfounded by this whole thing?”

  “I shouldn’t be here!” His voice boomed, but he didn’t move.

  “Are you sure about that?!” I yelled back. He was sober so I had no need to tiptoe over his addle brained temperament. “Look at you.” I pushed away from the pew to look at him. “You are apocalyptic road kill. You devoted your whole life to God, and when things didn’t go the way you thought they should, you not only released yourself from your obligations, you practically signed your soul over to Lucifer instead.”

  I stood up to face him. “Maybe he left you behind because he knew you were weak and would break like a Faberge egg.” Priest started to object to that statement, but I put up a hand to stop him. “You thought you saw disgust in my eyes, well you did, but not for the reason you think.” His urgency to interrupt waned, and he started to listen again. “You think I’m disgusted because you are a drunken, lecherous, drug addict, who wallows in his own self-pity, but that’s not what disgusts me. What disgusts me, is that you are all of those things, and you still think your better than the rest of us!”

  I didn’t wait for a response. I headed to the door. I had said my piece, which was more than I ever expected to be able to say. Even if I had remembered that I needed holy water I wouldn’t have cared at that point.

  When I reached the doors, Priest had caught up with me, and interposed himself between me and my exit. “Wait.” He said with pleading eyes. “You’re right.” He put his hands up to touch me, but didn’t actually make contact. “Please don’t leave.” I must have looked as confused as I felt. I had just told him he was a selfish, egotistical, fuck up, why did he want me to stay. “You need more holy water, don’t you?”

  “I can get it another day.” I made a move to the door, even though I had no hope that he would move.

  “Another day I may not be sober.” He said finally grasping my hands. “Please, Lenore, I sobered up just to talk to you. I wanted to hear you without the clutter of my crutches. I don’t know if I’ll be sober tomorrow. Stay with me today while I am.”

  “Why?” I looked him over for the trap.

  “Because, my harem—as you call them, are not good conversationalists when I’m not as high as they are.” I glanced back at the two women who would be content for hours with their strawberry kisses. When I turned back to offer an excuse or a stipulation, Priest squeezed my hands hard. “You are the only sober friend I have left in my life, Lenore.”

  I had never really thought of myself as his friend before, but that was probably because I didn’t think he thought of me as a friend. I could always use more friends. “You do realize that you’re just using me as a crutch to avoid your other crutches?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want you here as much as I need you.”

  “I’ll stay, but not in here.” I motioned back to the women. “You need to get some sun anyway.”

  -Sunshine and Other Natural Remedies-

  Priest took in a deep breath as we sat looking over the pond just behind his gardens. The silence must have been relaxing to him, but to me it was uncomfortable. He brought the strawberries with him, but hadn’t offered them, so I was still waiting for snack time. The blanket we were lounging on was a tattered quilt that looked like it had a story. The smell indicated that it was an old story.

  “I love this place.” He said eventually. “I used to fish back here. I probably still could, if I could manage to stay sober.”

  “You need to get the hell out of here, Priest.” I leaned back on the blanket to absorb the sun’s warmth.

  “What? Why?”

  “You’re like a divorced couple who insists on living together, when you clearly hate each other. You and God might be broken up, but it doesn’t mean you should just hang out and continuously hurt each other. Just walk away. Let the festering pain of loss be healed by time and distance. Get a dog or something.”

  Priest laughed. It was the first time it didn’t sound maniacal to me. “A dog instead of God, is that supposed to be meaningful?”

  “No, I just like dogs.”

  “You have an interesting logic, Lenore.” He leaned back on the blanket as well, resting on his side, facing me. “Honest, but s
imple.” I shrugged in response. I wasn’t sure if simple logic made me simple minded, but I was sure it was meant as a compliment. “What about you? How are things going with your foursome?”

  “We aren’t a foursome. We are a group of friends.”

  “You’re polygamists.”

  “Is that judgment I hear?” I tipped my head as if to better hear his answer.

  “Nope,” Priest quickly corrected.

  “Life is just lonely. Taboos just don’t matter right now. Besides, I’m not sleeping with Devin.”

  “You’re not?” He asked incredulously.

  “Why does that sound so strange to everyone?”

  “Because I’ve seen how you look at him: puppy crush and then some.”

  “I guess I’m just more of a monogamist than I thought.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes we just want what we want. Speaking of want, do you want the strawberries now?”

  “It’s about time.” I said reaching for the bowl as he brought it over.

  “Uh-uh-uh.” He said pulling the bowl out of my grasp. “I still have to show you how to eat them.”

  “Open, insert, chew, chew, just gimme.” I reached out my palm for an offering.

  “Close your eyes.” He said softly.

  “What? No way, I’m not doing anything kinky.”

  He grimaced at that. “Have I ever acted inappropriately toward you?” I shook my head. “Have I ever hurt you?” I shook my head again, starting to feel sheepish. “Why would my being sober change that?”

  I didn’t bother answering. I just settled into the blanket and closed my eyes. I still didn’t trust him and flinched when I felt his hand move across my body to place the bowl. “Relax, Lenore,” he drawled. “I promise this isn’t sexual, it’s just savoring life.”

  When he asked me to open my mouth and I opened like a fish out of water he laughed at me. “Not so big, just…forgive the scenario, but…just pretend you’re about to kiss someone. Part your lips to receive it.”

  Instinctively, I licked my lips and opened slightly. When I felt the strawberry touch my lips, I tipped my chin to eat it, but he pulled it away. “Not so fast. See why you have to be taught. Food is about more than taste. Trust me, I used to be celibate, I know how to enjoy a meal.”

  I laughed at that and parted my lips again. Priest dragged the bitten strawberry across my lips. It was cool, sweet, and despite Priests intentions it felt in no way plutonic to me. “Lick your lips.” I did so enjoying the distinct taste that only strawberries could provide. “Open.” I opened and he rested the strawberry in my mouth. “Chew slowly, imagine it’s the last food you will ever eat.”

  I chewed slowly, only swallowing when my saliva threatened to choke me. Priest repeated the procedure again, offering me a smell of the berry first. When we were on our fifth berry I not only felt full, I felt like I no longer cared if Priest’s intentions were honorable. Somewhere between taste and touch, I had lost track of what I was supposed to be getting out of this experience.

  “What’s going on here?” August’s voice called from above us.

  I sat up even before opening my eyes. I hit Priest in the forehead on my ascent, which ushered him back hissing in pain. “August?” I said blinking away the sun. “What are you doing here?” She was standing over me, eyeballing the blanket and the strawberries.

  “You’ve been gone two hours. How long does it take to get holy water?” She looked mad, as if she had just caught me making out with my boyfriend on the couch.

  “I didn’t realize I was expected back at a certain time. I could have taken the four-wheeler or the bike.”

  “Never mind that, what’s going on here?”

  Before I could answer, Priest stood up. “What does it matter, August? We’re eating strawberries. I asked her to stay. She is my friend.”

  “I don’t want you influencing her, Matthew. I need her sober.”

  “Strawberries, August.” Priest pointed to the bowl. “Not cocaine.”

  “Lenore, get your holy water and get the truck back home. I don’t want you hanging out here all day.”

  “I’m not going to just start using drugs, because of him.” I defended.

  “No, I’m not really worried about that. What I am worried about is your hopes getting caught up in…this.” August twirled her finger over the scene. “He won’t stay sober for long, Lenore.”

  I looked up at Priest. He didn’t offer any objection to this. “I know.” I said somewhat forlorn. “Let me enjoy it while I can.”

  She looked a little put off by the comment, but she nodded and left us without another word. Priest shuffled about angrily, before sitting back down on the blanket. “I’m sorry.” He said.

  “For what, she’s my friend. I should be apologizing to you.”

  “No, I’m sorry that she’s right. Addict or not, I just don’t want to be sober in this world anymore.”

  “I never expected you to sober up for me. I didn’t even know we were friends until today.” He looked hurt by that; I grimaced apologetically. “I know now.” He smiled and reached over to touch my cheek. He closed his eyes and whispered something that sounded Latin. When he opened his eyes, he looked sad. “What did you just do?”

  “I blessed you, and asked God to protect you.”

  “You guys are on speaking terms now.”

  “I never stopped talking to God.” He said flatly. “He just stopped answering.” He winked at me, to let me know that he wasn’t intending to sound crazy. “I should get you your water, so you can get out of here.”

  “I’m not in a rush.” I said handing him the flask from my back pocket I brought for him to bless. “After that display I’m obligated to stay longer just to flaunt my independence.”

  “August didn’t come here to get you to come home. She came here to tell me, that I’m not good enough for you.” He closed his eyes and blessed the flask. When he opened his eyes he was looking directly at me. “She’s right.”

  I sat up further on the blanket. I didn’t know how to react to this. Until now I didn’t know I was friends with Priest, and now that I did, he was essentially telling me we couldn’t be friends. “Priest…” It was all I got out before he handed me the flask.

  “I’m sorry Lenore. I wish I could be more than selfish, but right now, all I have left in this world is arguing with my ex.” With that Priest stalked off to do who knows what sin. I didn’t follow.

  -Fires Within-

  It was hard for me to be mad at August. It was hard for me to be mad at anyone I loved, because I hated conflict, but it was especially hard with August. She was like my mother, sister, and best friend all rolled into one and I couldn’t bring myself to defy her or fight with her, even if I did think her opinion about Priest was wrong.

  Technically she was right, Priest was not going to sober up just because I told him he should, but she was wrong that I was going to get hurt by him. She thought that I had hopes that Priest would go back to the way he was. I had no hope of that. All I wanted was for him to stop wallowing in misery. If he wanted to drink and smoke pot, then at least let it be for the pleasure of it, not the numbing of it.

  I managed to stay out of everyone’s way until the weekend was over. We went to a few parties that ended the same way they always did. I went home early on the four-wheeler to snooze, while everyone else hung around to schmooze. As usual, the early night shift lacked any major glimmer grim, at least nothing I couldn’t simply drive around and away from.

  When I got home early for what had to be the eighth week in a row, I made a decision. I was going to sleep with Devin. It shouldn’t have received the cresting excitement that I felt, but I wasn’t going to sleep with him for reasons of love or even lust. I was sleeping with him because I was mad.

  I’m not quite sure how being mad meant that I should sleep with Devin, but in my head it made sense. I was going to piss off Haden, but I didn’t care. I was sick of spending the apocalypse like a prude
while everyone else was living it up.

  Truthfully, I think what I really wanted to do was sleep with Priest to piss August off, but as I said before, it’s hard for me to be mad at August. To outright go against her wasn’t going to work. However, sleeping with someone she approved of, while pretending it was someone she didn’t approve of, might offer me the revenge I desired, without the repercussions. Yes, that actually sounded logical in my head.

  Monday night was fairly boring, or it would have been had my decision to sleep with Devin not encouraged a good number of stupid follow up decisions.

  First, there was the liquid courage. I certainly couldn’t just tell Devin I wanted to sleep with him, because I’m a coward, and that would be anticlimactic considering how long he’s been waiting for me to give in.

  The second stupid decision was the dress. I didn’t have a lot of sexy clothes, so I altered a long dress from my closet to make it a short dress. It was a little too short, and after I removed the sleeves and cut into the bodice to add lace, it was much to revealing. It was a few pounds too tight as well. When I finally slipped it on, my breasts were shoved up like I was laced into a bustier.

  My third stupid decision was making my intentions known to Devin in front of everyone. Alas, all the other decisions could have been erased if I would have only discreetly drug Devin upstairs like a normal rendezvous.

  By the time I made it down to the bonfire in the backyard, I was thoroughly toasted. My three friends were illuminated by the fire they were sitting around. When I arrived August started speaking before the firelight had illuminated me.

  “Oh, Lenore, at last, I want you to…” She trailed off as the fire revealed my very little black dress. “What are you wearing?”

  “I wanted something nice to mark the occasion.” I said or slurred, depending on how it sounded to them.

  Devin whistled. “Well, well, well, Lenore. I wasn’t sure you had any shape under those t-shirts, but there you are.”

  “Shut-up, Devin.” Haden snarled.