Sweet Satisfaction - Thirty-One

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Thirty-One

Father’s Chevrolet screeched into the grass outside the local church, St. John the Baptist. It was a rather spectacular place, with large stained glass windows, which at the tops formed arrow shapes. The turrets and spires on the main building were overshadowed by the grand tower added onto the side.

The stones were so old some had mellowed dark brown from the weather. The front doors, also dark brown, were pushed open by Father, once we had all left the automobile. Inside, candles flickered, for dusk was gathering. Slowly, we all followed Father down the aisles flanked by many pews.

I wanted to marvel at all the curious Baptist beliefs – but I was too confused and scared. Father bowed his head, reaching the top of the aisle.

“We can only pray now,” he murmured and I looked round at the others, heart beating faster – had we let the Germans win? Or was it to do with the note? Either way, it turned out to be both.

It wasn’t completely dark yet but my eyelids were drooping, limbs ached and knees were sore from crouching down between the shelter of two pews, as Father had instructed. Suddenly, my mouth went dry. Footsteps sounded against the cold stone floor. Mother pulled Mary and I closer to her, Susanna and Emma shrinking down. We were all shaking badly. Why were we hiding in a Baptist Church? What was actually happening?

“Carlos. Lutenez.” Father cleverly curled his tongue to sound more threatening.

“Albert. Kingston,” Carlos purred back, stroking his black goatee thoughtfully, black eyes a snake’s slits.

“This is between me and you. You had no right to threaten my daughters the way you did.” My heart missed a beat and Mother’s fingers clenched tighter onto me.

“You betrayed us; your cousin was on the Lusitania. How else would he acquire the information?” Father hissed. Lusitania? Our ship that was blown up? I bit my lip, drawing blood.

“He may have other sources.” Carlos picked his words carefully and stepped up so he was eye-to-eye with Father.

“I have lost my job because you- maybe even my house soon. I have to look after my wife and my children. I made one mistake.”

“And what was that?” Father’s jawline was tight.

“You should be dead by now.”

I could feel my pupils dilating with fear. Father held a gun behind his back and his grip on it became stronger. Carlos faltered at his calm reaction but still pulled his trigger. I was so horrified, unable to scream, paralysed with terror. The bullet whizzed through time and space. Father deftly ducked, rolled and threw himself sideways on all fours and heels, nearer us.

“Move, move!” Mother hissed to Susanna and Emma but they had already crawled back, shrinking against the wall. We all flinched as the second gunshot fired, this time Father at Carlos. It smashed into Carlos’ shoulder and he staggered down the steps, gun slipping from his fingers. Bright scarlet gore spurted from the wound and Father retrieved Carlos’ gun.

“Alright, alright, I surrender,” he whimpered, as the five of us shifted further backwards, clutching each other tightly, shaking. I felt at loss to think that this was what my Father did to earn his keep.

“You seem to be in pain now,” Father said. It was so cold, so cruel, that I couldn’t help but slide up against the wall. I wanted to scream at Father, to tell him to stop. There was a purely evil glint in his eyes. Father turned to stare at me, right in my eyes. Carlos followed his gaze, distracted. I never forgot that Father used me as the decoy.

Two symmetrical gunshots – and Carlos was blasted backwards. His skull cracked on the stone, body spread-eagled. That wasn’t enough. Father used up every single bullet, the sharp, swift noise pounding in our ears.

We screamed. We mostly sobbed. I put my hands over my ears, imagining another loud noise, one that killed two innocent people. Emma flinched at every piercing snap that whipped through the air. Mary cradled Mother, tugging at my skirts, grubby face streaked with tears. Slowly, I slid back down. My Father was a murderer.

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