I saw everything.
Even if I didn’t have to see everything, I did. Sometimes he clicked when he wanted me to do something, sometimes he didn’t. It was a test for me. A test of loyalty. Of intelligence. And I was intelligent. I wasveryintelligent, I knew I was. I had to be. A lifetime of being silent. Of listening and thinking and being trapped in my own mind. I had to be. I learned to be. I was.
We sat there for quite some time before I saw Thomas’s leg flex under his khaki-colored slacks, and I prepared myself to stand exactly one Mississippi after him.
One whole Mississippi. I counted; I had to because he didn’t always click. It was his favorite time for me to wait. One Mississippi. Except when we were walking. When on the move, I was always one step behind. If he stopped and took one step back, he had to touch me, that was the rule. Sometimes it was difficult because I was short, so my steps didn’t match his, but I did my very best, I always did my very best.
I stood one Mississippi after he did and kept myself exactly one step behind him as he walked towards the stage where the podium sat. We joined Pastor Masters, and he and Thomas spoke about the message until those eyes rested on my skin again.
I kept my eyes on the floor where they belonged, even when the scent of the sea surrounded me. Fresh salty air, a hint of cedarwood, and warm sand, there was something sweet too. Something really sweet, what was that? I thought hard about everything I had ever smelled before the word finally came to mind.
Pomegranate. He smelled like the sea and pomegranates.
I wanted to inhale, but drawing attention to myself and away from the new guest was against the rules. My hair was already a problem, if I did anything else to draw attention to myself, I would be punished for sure.
Black leather shoes appeared in my line of sight just two Mississippi’s after the scent had already reached me. His toes were pointed slightly out, his black slacks were pressed and fell across the tops of his shoes just as they should. He had a dark red wood cane, but he didn’t stand as if he had a limp. I wondered why he held a cane. What was the purpose of it?
“Welcome to our church,” Pastor Masters greeted. “What brings you here today?”
There was a little tension in his warm words. I could hear it. Something about the man made Pastor Masters uncomfortable, which was contradictory because I knew he always liked seeing new members, and Iknewthis man was there last night. I knew he was. So Pastor Masters must have known him, unless they didn’t speak at all. Unless the man got in and out of there without seeing anyone from this church. Unless he had been wearing a mask last night like many of the other members.
“My soul needs to be saved,” he hummed.
His voice reminded me of the sea too. Calm and quiet, a song of sorts. It held a kind of quiet, unending, untethered rage beneath it. As if he had some kind of storm brewing under his skin just waiting to break free.
Even if he was just some civilian who saw the advertisements, or a Leader coming to study, he was so far different from the others that I couldn’t help but imagine what that storm would do to this place. The torrential downpour it would bring. The hurricane-like winds. The destruction.
I wondered how fast the waves would sweep me away if he allowed it to rage.
He couldn’t have been a Leader, I decided, Pastor Masters knew all the Leaders and every church, so maybe hewasa civilian, or even worse, an Elder. They were elusive. I had never met one, even though our church was the largest of them all, we had yet to host them.
Elder’s held so much power that they could tear down entire churches if they wanted. I heard that they were so powerful, they had the ability to control people like the Governor. If they truly were that powerful, then we were in trouble.
Maybe the Leaders had done something bad, and this man was here to correct their mistakes.
Maybe their rule breaking had finally pushed the Elders to snap.
“Then you’ve come to the right place. My name is Garret Masters, this is my son Thomas, and this woman is his fiancé.”
It would make sense that even Pastor Masters wouldn’t know who they were. I didn’t think anyone even knew their names or how many there were. There were just stories of them, nothing else. Stories of the men who created this church. What better way to spy on the church than be an elusive member of the people who the Founder hired to build it?
The man was quiet, and I could feel everywhere his eyes touched. Did he like what he saw? Pastor Masters asked that of all worthy enough men.
If he was an Elder, he would have the ability to have me alone. No Thomas, no one to make sure he was following the rules.Elders had full access. In fact, I heard a rumor that claimed that Elders were even allowed to penetrate without ruining the Favorites. It was considered an honor to be penetrated by them. A blessing on both the Favorite and the owner.
But he would have to make himself known as an Elder in order to have that access and if he was studying the church, he might not do that right away.
“She looks too young to have that label,” he commented.
Just over 15 and a half now.
“It was love at first sight,” Pastor Masters assured him. “But don’t you worry, the wedding isn’t for a few more years. Now, I didn’t catch your name.”
He was quiet again and it led me to wonder what he was thinking about. So much silence, I knew a thing or two about that. “Azrael Thorin,” he spoke. “I don’t shake hands.”
No. A man named Azrael Thorin wouldn’t shake hands with a man like Pastor Masters. He was the embodiment of the sea, and the sea didn’t bow to anyone, not even a messenger of God.
“Very well. Welcome again, I hope you enjoy your stay.”
