Everett’s Compound

Justin Pratt felt an elbow poke his side, and only then did he realize he had dozed off. He glanced at Alice, who was sitting beside him, cross-legged like the rest of the members, but her head and eyes were facing ahead, her back straight. Two of her fingers tapped his ankle, her polite way of telling him to stay awake and pay attention.

He wanted to tell her he didn’t give a fuck what Father had to say tonight or any night, for that matter. And after last night he wished that Alice didn’t give a fuck, either. Jesus! He was so tired. All he wanted to do was close his eyes, just for a few minutes. He could still listen even if his eyes were closed. His eyelids started to droop, and this time he felt a pinch. He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face, digging a thumb and index finger into his eyes. Another elbow. Jesus!

He glared at her, but she didn’t flinch from her appropriately adoring attention on Father. Maybe she liked what the guy did to her last night. Maybe she had really gotten off on it, and what Justin thought was a grimace had actually been her expression of orgasm. Shit! He was just tired. He needed to stop thinking about last night. He sat up straight and folded his hands into his lap.

Tonight Father was going off on the government again, a favorite topic of his. Justin had to admit that some of the stuff the man said did make sense. He remembered his grandfather telling Eric and him stories about government conspiracies. How the government had murdered JFK. How the United Nations was really a conspiracy to take over the world.

Justin’s dad had said, “The old man had a couple of loose screws,” but Justin loved and admired his grandfather. He had been a war hero, getting the Congressional Medal of Honor for saving his whole squad in Vietnam. Justin had seen the medal, as well as the photos and letters, one from President Lyndon Johnson. It was pretty cool. But it was all stuff Justin knew his dad despised. Probably another reason Justin loved the old man—they had something in common: neither of them had ever been able to please Justin’s dad. Then his grandfather up and died last year. Justin still felt pissed at him for leaving him. He knew that was a fucked-up attitude. It wasn’t his granddad’s fault, but he missed the old man. He didn’t have anyone to talk to, especially after Eric left.

He knew Eric missed Granddad, too, even if he was too much of a macho-shithead to admit it. Less than three weeks after the funeral, Eric dropped out of Brown University. That was when all hell broke loose at home.

“Excuse me, am I boring you?” Father’s voice boomed across the room.

Justin sat up, but he was already sitting about as straight as he could. He felt Alice gripping his ankle, so tight her fingernails dug into his sock and skin.

Shit! He was in trouble now. Alice had warned him that daydreaming during Father’s talks could lead to punishment. Oh, what the hell. So what if he sent him out into the woods again. Maybe this time he’d just take off. He didn’t need this shit. Maybe he could meet up with Eric somewhere else.

“Answer me,” Father demanded as the room grew quiet. No one dared turn to look at the guilty one. “Do you find what I say so boring you’d rather sleep?”

Justin looked up, ready to take his punishment, but Father’s eyes were staring off to Justin’s left. And now the old man sitting next to Justin began to fidget restlessly. Justin could see the man’s callused hands wringing the hem of his blue work shirt. He recognized him from the building crew. No wonder the poor guy was dozing. The building crew had been working around the clock to remodel Father’s living quarters before winter, which was ridiculous if all of them were to be moving to some paradise soon. Surely others on the crew would speak up and remind Father of the long hours they’d been working. But instead, everyone remained silent, waiting.

“Martin, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I guess I—”

“Stand up when you address me.”

The members all sat on the floor during the meetings. Justin couldn’t figure out why the hell Father was the only one who got a chair. Alice had tried to explain that no one’s head should be higher than Father’s when Father spoke. Justin would have laughed out loud at that had it not been for the somber, almost reverent look on her face.

“We have traitors in our midst,” Father bellowed. “We have a reporter trying to destroy us with ugly lies. This is no time for any of us to be caught sleeping. I said stand!”

Justin watched the old man untangle his legs and crawl to his feet. He could sympathize with the guy. After three hours, he, too, had problems with muscle cramps. The old guy reminded Justin of his grandfather, thin and small, but wiry. He was probably stronger and younger than his weathered skin suggested. He shot a look at Justin, then looked away quickly, reminding Justin that he shouldn’t be watching. Out of the corner of his eyes Justin could see the others with their heads obediently facing the front of the room and their eyes cast down.

“Martin, you’re wasting everyone’s time. Perhaps instead of offering an explanation, you need a reminder of what happens when you waste everyone’s time.” Father waved to the two bodyguards, and the men disappeared out the back door. “Come here, Martin, and bring along Aaron.”

“No, wait…” Martin protested as he made his way to the front, stepping carefully around the members who sat in an unorganized fashion on the floor. “Punish me,” Martin said, weaving his way, “but leave my son out of this.”

However, the fair-skinned, blond Aaron was already making his way to Father’s side. Justin figured him to be about his age, only small and wiry like his dad, and strangely eager to assist Father.

“Martin, you know there are no fathers and sons here. No mothers and daughters. No brothers and sisters.” Father’s voice was back to its calm, soothing tone. “We all belong to one unit, one family.”

“Of course, I just meant—” Martin stopped when he saw the guards return, carrying what Justin thought was a huge, long hose.

Then the hose moved.

“Shit!” he said under his breath, then quickly glanced around, grateful no one had heard him over their own gasps. Because what the guards carried between them was the biggest fucking snake Justin had ever seen.

He stole a glimpse at Father’s face while everyone else returned to silence. Father was smiling, watching the crowd’s reaction and nodding as if in satisfaction. Suddenly, Father caught Justin’s eyes and the smile turned to a scowl. Justin looked away, lowering his head as well as his eyes. Jesus! Was he in trouble now? He waited for his name to be called and realized his heart had begun slamming against his ribs. In this fucking silence would the sound betray him?

“Aaron,” Father called instead, “I want you to take this snake and place it around Martin’s neck.”

There were no gasps, only more silence, as though the entire room of people was collectively holding its breath.

“But Father…” Aaron’s voice sounded like a small boy’s, and Justin cringed. Stupid kid. Don’t show weakness. Don’t show him you’re scared.

“Aaron, I’m surprised.” The reverend’s voice was soft and sweet, and it made Justin cringe even more. “Didn’t you come to me just last week and tell me you were ready to become one of my soldiers? One of our warriors for justice?”

“Yes, but—”

“Stop your sniveling, then, and do as I say,” he yelled, causing everyone to jump at the change in his tone.

Aaron looked from Father to Martin and then at the snake. Justin couldn’t believe the kid was considering it. But what choice did he have if he didn’t want that fucking snake around his own neck? Surely, this was only a test. Yeah, that was it. Justin didn’t know much about the Bible, but wasn’t there some story about God telling a father to kill his own son? Then at the last minute God stopped the guy. That had to be what this was.

Justin took a deep breath, but no relief seemed to come with his sudden realization. Instead, all he felt was Alice’s fingernails digging deeper into his ankle.

Aaron took hold of the snake. Martin, who had stood tall and firm all this time, began to sob, so violently he shook as Aaron and one of the guards wound the snake across the old man’s shoulders and neck.

“We must not be caught sleeping,” Father was saying, his voice calm again as though this was just another one of his instructive lectures. “Our enemies are closer than you think. Only those of us who are strong and obey the strictness of our rules will survive.”

Justin wondered if anyone was listening to Father’s words. He had difficulty hearing them over the pounding of his own heart, while he watched the snake squeeze and Martin’s face swell, turning crimson-red. The old man’s fingers clawed at the snake as panic overrode fear.

“All it takes is one person,” Father continued, “to betray us, to destroy us.”

Justin couldn’t believe it. Father wasn’t even looking at Martin. Surely, he’d call it off any second now. Wasn’t this enough of a test? The old man’s eyes started to roll back in his head, his tongue hung from his mouth. His head would explode. It was going to fucking explode all over the place.

“We must remember…” Father stopped and looked down at the puddle forming around his shoes. Martin had peed his pants. Father lifted one foot, his face contorting with disgust. He waved to his guards. “Remove the snake,” he said, as if only because he didn’t want his shoes soiled any more than they already were.

It took both guards and Aaron to pull off and unwrap the snake. Martin collapsed where he stood. But Father continued as though this had only been a minor distraction, stepping over Martin’s body and turning his back to him as the old man crawled away.

“We must remember there are no loyalties, no bonds except for the greater good of our mission. We must free ourselves from petty desires of the material world.”

Father seemed to be addressing a specific group, especially one woman, who sat in front. Justin recognized her. She was one of the entourage that the reverend kept close at prayer rallies, one of the group of about a dozen members that was bused in for the meetings. They all still lived and worked on the outside and had not yet entirely joined the community. Alice had explained that these were people with important ties to the outside, or ones who had not yet fully proved themselves to Father.

As the meeting ended, Justin watched Father go to the woman, giving her both his hands to help her stand and hugging her. Probably feeling her up and getting in a few extra squeezes. Justin couldn’t help thinking she looked like one of his mom’s country club friends, wearing a navy dress and that bright red scarf.