“He doesn’t think I’m wicked at all,” I whisper in awe, throwing my arms wide and twirling in a circle—
I come to an abrupt stop when I see my mother standing just outside the office window, her face pinched with disgust. Did she see me kissing the preacher? No, I would have noticed her before. That’s just her default expression. Why is she here and not sitting in our usual pew, listening to the rest of the sermon?
Hesitantly, I sidle toward the window and open it slightly. “Hi, mama.”
It’s only when she gives me a once over and breathes the word slut, do I realize I’m still in my slip, the water having made it transparent. As quickly as possible, I cross my arms over my chest, just in time for my mother to reach through the window and wrap her fist in my long hair.
“‘Direct channel to His grace,’ my left foot,” she sneers. “Get out here, you little tramp. We’re going home.”
“No!” I dig my fingers into the windowsill but it’s too late, she’s yanking me through the opening and I’m crashing to the ground, rapping my head on the earth. I try to scramble to my feet and run, but I’m too dizzy and…and I can only stumble blindly behind my mother as she drags me toward the station wagon.
“If you open your mouth, I’ll belt it shut, do you understand me?”
“Yes, mama,” I sob, casting a longing glance toward the church.
“You were always a willful child. Daydreaming when you were supposed to be doing schoolwork or chores. Maturing way too early, like you’d been sent straight from the devil—”
“No mama, you’re wrong. The preacher told me—”
Her backhand catches me across the mouth and I’m too stunned, my ears ringing too loudly, to do anything but let her push me into the backseat of the station wagon. “If the preacher told you something different, it’s because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings. Now you listen to me, young lady,” my mother says, her eyes catching mine in the rearview mirror. “I’ve already been forced to endure the humiliation of two husbands leaving me behind. You will not embarrass this family any further, do you understand? Naked in front of the preacher—I’ve never seen the like. It’s over for you. Starting today.” She shakes her head and revs the engine of the car, pulling out onto the dirt road leading to the main junction. “How am I going to show my face in church again after the stunt you pulled?”
“I’m sorry, mama. Please just let me go back.”
“Why? So you can harass that poor, God-fearing man? No ma’am. We’ll be lucky if he agrees to come over and perform the exorcism on you.” My mouth drops open, but she only nods. “I plan to call him soon as we get home and tie you up.”
Stars wink in front of my eyes and blackness hits.
Next time I wake up, my mother is tying my wrists to my metal bedframe, muttering about heathenism and this country’s youth being oversexed thanks to the television. One of my wrists is already bound and I can tell from the painful bite of the rope that attempting to free myself is futile. I try anyway, Joseph’s name sticking in my throat in the form of a wretched sob. I want to ask if she called the preacher to come perform an exorcism yet, but I don’t want to come across overeager, lest she cancel the idea and I don’t get to see him. The man who kissed me so tenderly.
What if mama was right, though?
What if the preacher was only being nice by telling me I don’t have the devil inside me? Isn’t mama always ranting about how men will say anything to make women lay with them? Maybe I tempted him so terribly with my wicked ways that he turned into a lying sinner—and it’s all my fault.
Tears fill my eyes and the fight goes out of me. My mother leaves the room and I see her pacing back and forth in front of my bedroom, phone pressed to her ear. “Why won’t he answer?” She screeches. “This is an emergency!”
Shame swamps me and I turn my face toward the window, unable to witness her disgust with me a second longer.
The sound of screeching tires makes me stop breathing.
Is it the preacher? Did my mother get a hold of him?
If he comes in here and performs an exorcism on me, I don’t know if my heart will be able to stand it. I don’t want proof he thinks I’m a bad seed.
An engine cuts out in front of my house.
Silence falls, briefly. Then there’s a jarring crash at the front of the house. The door being kicked open? Boot steps move purposefully across the floorboards toward my room and I see my mother backing down the hallway, laughing nervously.