I did my best tocalm my breathing, so she’d continue.
“My mother musthave been running some sort of errand with my siblings, because we arrived toan empty house. Walking into the foyer, still in the flow of our conversationand feeling emboldened, I asked him about something that had always puzzled me.I asked my father why he needed a security team to protect him. After all,Jesus himself told his disciplesnotto protect or defend him on the dayhe was delivered to Pilate. He even healed the ear of the Roman guard who Peterattacked.”
“What did yourfather say?” I asked.
“For the longesttime he didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, and I remember feeling likehe had the ability to look through my eyes and into my soul.”
“Were youfrightened?”
“I’m not sure Ihad the good sense to be scared yet,” she said. “At least until he spoke.‘Stand over there and face away from me,’ he’d said, pointing to one of thelarge, Grecian style pillars which flanked our entryway. I did as heinstructed, thinking he was about to use some pastoral stage craft as he wasprone to do on Sundays. Often times he’d choose one or two of us from the youthgroup to get up on stage and help him illustrate a point. I figured I was aboutto star in my very own after church special.” She swallowed, fisting her handsin my shirt. “Until he spoke again. ‘Take off your dress.’”
“What the fuck?”I hissed.
Tears streameddown her face as she nodded. “I turned to look at my father and asked him thesame question, without the curse word of course. ‘Turn away from me and takeoff your dress, right now,’ he said in a tone that told me this was no play. Iwas shivering so hard I could barely work the zipper but somehow managed todisrobe, bursting into tears as my Sunday dress fell to the floor. I was justin my little camisole and panties, and I covered my body as best I could withmy hands.”
I instinctivelypulled my tartan further over her body as she shivered against me.
“‘You want toknow why I have security ministers when Jesus had none? Was that your question,Lennox?’ I’d turned my head to answer, which was the wrong thing to do becausehe’d bellowed, ‘Keep your eyes forward, daughter.’ I shook my head, sobbing asI did and hearing him unbuckle his belt. ‘I’m going to teach you why. Now placeyour hands on that pillar.’”
I felt Lennoxfade into herself. Go to a place I was concerned she may not come back from.
“Please, daddy, I don’t wantto,” I’d cried. “I’m scared.”
“Good,” hesaid. “I want you to understand how afraid I get sometimes, sweetheart. Notonly for myself, but for my family. And also, for you to know how afraid Jesusmust have been when those Roman soldiers came to take him away.”
I placed myhands on the pillar.
“Good girl.Now, I’ll answer your question. The reason the church employs securityministers is to prevent the righteous members of my family from suffering theway Jesus did at the hands of Pontius Pilate. For instance, the way he wasmercilessly whipped.”
The firsttime his belt hit my back, it took a few seconds for the shock of what had justhappened to wear off before I felt the pain. But when the pain did come, itsent me to my knees.
“Stand up andput your hands on the pillar.”
I knew I’dget worse if I argued so I got back to my feet. The moment my palms touched thepillar, he whipped me again. And again. By the time my mom came through thedoor, I’d lost count of how many times he’d hit me. She and my siblings camehome to see me in our foyer, stripped to my underwear, standing in a pool of myown blood.
“Let yoursister be an example to you kids,” my father said. “Never question yourfather’s decisions about what’s right for this family. Do you understand?”
“Yes,father,” they answered in terrified unison.
“Good. Now,go and clean up for lunch. Your sister and I need to finish our lesson.”
“Lennox?” I cupped her face,trying to get her to look at me but her eyes were glassy and unfocused. “Honey,I need you to look at me.”
She blinked afew times and then finally met my eyes. “He kept going, Phin. He kept beatingme until I passed out on the foyer floor.”
I stood withLennox in my arms, releasing her so she could stand. “I need you to go back toyour room and stay there until I come and get you.”
“Why?”
“Just do it,Lennox, please,” I said. “Do not come out. No matter what you hear.Understand?”
She settled herhand on my chest. “Are you okay?”
“Go, love.Quickly,” I rasped. “Take the tartan.”
She nodded,wrapping the blanket around her, and rushing down the hall.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
