She could not see Father Abraham, nor Mother Sarah, nor their son, Isaac. She hoped they had escaped. She felt so alone, so helpless. It was the first time in her life that she was outside, away from home, without supervision. She had never before had to ask herself where she should go next. She was not sure she could decide now.
Suddenly, the door at her back opened. A hand grabbed the loose cloth of her garb and dragged her into the building. The door shut, and she found herself in a dim hallway which smelled of urine. Beside her was a slim girl about her own age, fourteen. The girl still held the black cloth of Rebecca's long, loose, hooded dress, a dress which resembled a medieval nun's habit. With her gloves and sanimask, Rebecca was completely covered, indistinguishable from any Godly girl her size. The other girl was practically naked.
"What's your name?" the strange girl said.
"Rebecca. Rebecca Rausch."
"I'm Marva. You could get hurt out there. You'd better come with me." Marva led Rebecca into a small, cluttered room. "Sit. Make yourself at home. Would you like something? A Coke?"
"No, no, thank-you. I mustn't eat or drink anything. Could I use your phone, please? I'll just call the police, and they'll come and get me."
"Phone's not connected. We move around a lot," replied Marva. "Wait till my mother comes home. She'll know what to do." Marva looked for a while at Rebecca, who said nothing. Frightening noises from the street filtered through the old brick walls and boarded windows, but there were no police or fire sirens. "What's a Godly like you doing downtown in an alley?"
"I don't know. It's all some awful mistake." Marva coaxed Rebecca to go on. "About a year ago, we moved to Uncle Noah's farm, north of the city, but we still attend the Godly Church in Centerville. While we were driving home on the interstate, there was an accident up ahead, a trailer truck blocking the road. Traffic was all backed up, so Father Abraham turned off at an exit, to try to get around the blockage. People in the street blocked our way. We turned this way and that; we tried to get back on the interstate, but then, out there, we ran over something and our tires went flat. When the car stopped, someone threw a gasoline bomb. We had to leave the car or burn to death. I jumped out and ran to the alley. I don't know what happened to Father Abraham and Mother Sarah, and Isaac. I hope they are all right." Having spilled it all out, Rebecca began to cry.
"I hope so, too," said Marva. "There are crazies out there. It's like Sodom and Gomorrah. I wouldn't dare go out there now, and I live here."
Rebecca sniffed behind her mask, unable to wipe away the tears, ashamed that she could not control herself, especially in front of Marva. Rebecca forced herself to look at Marva, who was dressed obscenely in a tee shirt and jeans. Marva's hair was loose and uncovered, and Rebecca could see the shape of Marva's breasts, the smallness of her waist, the curve of her hips, and the tightness of the fabric covering her thighs. It was disgusting, but she reminded herself that Marva was trying to be nice. "Why did they do it?" Rebecca asked.
"Envy. Is it any wonder? Of course, most of us wouldn't dream of hurting you, but those are crazies out there. The virus gets to the brain, eventually, and people go out of control -- no sense of right and wrong."
"Can't the police control them?"
Marva laughed. "You must have strange ideas about the police. But I suppose you would. You don't get out much, do you?"
"No." Rebecca sniffed again.
"Why don't you take off your sanimask? It's kind of strange, talking to a mask."
"I can't. I'm not allowed to. The virus. It's not true, what they say, that you only get it from intimate contact or dirty needles. There are mutations out there. You can get it the way you might catch a cold. It's God's vengeance."
"What's it like, being Godly?" asked Marva.
"Living behind electrified fences and all that."
"I don't know. What do you want to know?"
"Do you go to school?"
"We do our lessons on the screen, at home."
"Do you always wear that mask?"
"Yes, except when we eat or bathe."
"Why do you wear those funny black clothes?"
"We believe that's the Godly way, to avoid tempting any man to sin. God says a woman must cover her hair and all of her body except her face and hands, when ever she might be seen by a man who is not a close relative. And then, of course, we cover our faces with sanimasks and our hands with antiseptic gloves, but that's not God's commandment; that's just good sense, to avoid exposure to the virus."
"You wear that stuff always? You sleep in it? What about sports, or taking a shower?"
"No. In your bedroom, anywhere in the women's part of the house, you can wear anything you like. And, of course, a husband and wife alone together don't have to wear the Godly garb."
"What do you do for fun? Do you go out with boys?"
"Oh, no! That's not Godly. Do you?"
"Sure, I have lots of fun. I have a steady boy friend. Why do you call your parents Father Abraham and Mother Sarah?"
"They are not my real parents. I went to live with them when I was ten. When I'm fifteen, I'm to marry Isaac, so Father Abraham will be my father-in-law."
"What happened to your own parents?"
"Nothing happened to them. I see them every Sunday in church."
"Then why do you live with Abraham and Sarah?"
"That's the way we do it. A girl goes to live with her future in-laws, so that they can make sure that she is clean and chaste. And she can get used to her future husband. He serves her at meal times. Then, when they are married, if she is disobedient, he can say, `How can you not obey me, I, who raised you from a little girl?'"
"Ugh!" said Marva. "How did you choose them? Or did they choose you?"
"My parents arranged it. They were lucky they had more daughters than sons. The Hopewells, that's Father Abraham and Mother Sarah, had two boys and a girl. Ishmael, the eldest, could exchange his sister for a wife, but they had to buy me for Isaac."
"Buy you?"
"Yes. A Godly girl child is very valuable. They agreed to a hundred thousand down and twenty thousand a year for five years."
"Wow!"
"If I took my sanimask off in a place like this, or did anything else which might expose me to the virus, why then they might send me back to my parents and demand a refund. And if my parents couldn't prove I was clean, I would be sent away."
Marva whistled softly. "That's...that's incredible. You're worth two hundred thousand?"
"Yes, as long as I'm virus-free."
"Well, you are safe here, Rebecca. Just don't go near the windows or anything. If the crazies found out you are here... Well, Mother will be home in a while. She'll know what to do. She'll bring some food home from work. You can eat, then, if you want."
"What does your mother do, at work?"
"She's a waitress in a restaurant, down the street. She brings home leftovers. That way, we can use the food stamps for other things."
"She works in a restaurant? Is that legal?"
"Hey, the whole world's not Godly. People still have to eat."
Rebecca looked uncomfortable. After a while, she asked, "Marva, could I... could I use your bathroom?" Marva indicated a door. Rebecca went in, locked the door, and stayed a long time. When she came out, she looked embarrassed, as much as one can when wearing a sanimask. "There's no bidet," she said.
"Bidet? What do you need a bidet for, Miss Godly? What's wrong with ordinary toilet paper? I haven't sneezed on it or anything."
"I can't use toilet paper. It's the chastity belt."
"God! A chastity belt? What's it like?"
Rebecca was ill at ease. "It's... it's like the ones you see illustrated in the dictionary. Well, mine's nicer. It's titanium, lighter than steel, perfectly stainless, and a lot stronger and harder to cut off."
"How," puzzled Marva, "do you go to the bathroom?"
"Well, there are sort of doors, front and back, but when they open, they stick out, with spikes, so no one can get at you. You can't even touch yourself. Mucous membranes are terribly susceptible to infection."
"You wear it every time you go out, like you are afraid you will get raped or something?"
"Yes, of course. Actually, Mother Sarah makes me wear it all the time. You can't be too careful."
"You've worn it all your life?"
"No, there are different things that little girls wear. My sister, though, has worn a belt since she was very small. That's expensive, because you outgrow them so quickly, but it was necessary. She used to, you know, touch herself in bed."
"You mean she masturbated? Hell, I do that all the time. I thought everyone did."
Rebecca recoiled. "Don't use that awful word. Please, don't. Doing that, it's a terrible sin. With my sister, they had to take her to a doctor. He injected a permanent nerve block, so she wouldn't feel anything, you know, down there. They thought it would stop her. I've heard of girls where they had the doctor sew them up. That proves they are a virgin. Then, when they get married, they visit a surgeon, so they can, you know, have babies."
"Come on! You have to be exaggerating. What about boys? I never knew a boy who didn't play with himself."
"Well, they can't do the nerve block thing with boys, because then they couldn't be fathers. But all the boys have chastity belts, a different design, of course."
"Rebecca, I can't believe it. How can you live like that?"
"Marva, it's the Godly way. How can you go through life knowing you will die an early death and burn in hell for having a boy friend and touching yourself? How can you be so... inhumanly animal? You know the virus is everywhere, yet you act as if you can live just as you please."
"Who are you to be so critical, Miss Godlier Than Thou?" Marva shouted. "I may not live long, but, by God, I'm enjoying the life I've got. Yes, I touch myself. It feels good. I fool around with boys. That feels even better. In fact, I may be pregnant. I hope I am. My mother had me when she was fourteen, and I hope I live to see my children grow up, too. You Godlies may hold the political power, now, but we're in the majority. We die young, but we breed like rabbits, and we like it. What makes you so sure God wants it your way? The majority doesn't think so. You just wait. Some day, you'll see. Power to the people!"
Rebecca was horrified. She cringed in a corner. "Don't talk like that. Oh, I want to go home."
The door opened, and Marva's mother walked in, carrying a bag which had grease stains on it. The smell of fries penetrated Rebecca's mask.
"Hello? What have we here?" asked the mother, putting down the bag. Rebecca thought the mother looked more than sixty, but she could only be about twenty-eight, if Marva was to be believed. She was certainly a sicky, maybe even a crazy.
"She's a Godly girl, Mother," said Marva evenly. "Some crazies set fire to her car, and I took her in, to hide her where she would be safe. Wasn't that nice?"
"I want to go home," whimpered Rebecca.
"Mother," continued Marva, "we have to be very careful with her. She's a virgin, and if anything happened to her, why her parents would be out two hundred thousand. Her name is Rebecca Rausch. We've gotten to be good friends, haven't we Rebecca?" Rebecca nodded.
"There, there, Rebecca," said Marva's mother, pausing to cough. "Of course you want to go home, but it's not safe out there on the street. We'll take good care of you. You wait here, and I'll go and call the police to come and get you. You'll be home in no time. Don't worry; just wait here."
Marva's mother left, coughing softly. Marva began to wolf down fries. "You sure you don't want to eat?"
"No, thanks, I'm sure," whispered Rebecca, still backed into a corner of the room. For a while, she had sort of liked Marva, even if Marva was a wretched sinner, but now Rebecca felt only revulsion. She longed to be home, safe on the farm. She fixed her eyes on the clock, willing the digits to change, counting the slow passage of the minutes.
In twelve minutes, the mother was back. "Now, Rebecca, the police are on the way." The mother coughed, making Rebecca thank God for her sanimask.
There was a gentle knock on the door. "That's the police, now," said the mother. She grabbed a handful of Rebecca's Godly garb and pulled her toward the door. "You just go with the nice policemen, Rebecca." The mother pulled open the door and pushed Rebecca through.
Rebecca screamed as she saw three roughly dressed men, crazies. "You're not policemen!" she screamed, but her screams were muffled as one of the men pulled a bag over her head. The other two pushed her roughly against a wall, wrenched her arms, and began to tie her hands behind her back.
Rebecca heard the mother yelling: "Remember, she's a virgin. You better get a good price, and I get half."
Then she heard Marva squealing with delight: "Mommy! We're rich!"
END