Beneath a Bethel Page 2

  NO.

  He grabbed my hair, pulling my head back before slamming it into the hard wood, pain sparking through me, my vision darkening. His hands gripped my wrists, throwing me back onto the mattress so forcefully that it slid along the dirt floor. He poised to leap at me, his knife held ready and expression set with fierce determination.

  Suddenly, the faint sound of voices floated down the tunnels towards us, snatches of conversation and soon, the beam of lights. Panic filled his eyes now as they darted between me and the door, a different kind of the terror to the type he had inflicted on me.

  He fled from the room, dashing into the shadows with his knife still drawn and my teeth in his pocket. The door banged in the frame even as the voices passed, becoming faint with their ever-growing distance, though whether they gave chase, I was too lost in pain to tell.

  I curled into a ball, holding myself as my claws dug into my flesh, my eyes tightly closed as I tried to hold it all inside. Not just the pain as I had practised, but the betrayal, the disgust.

  He would hardly remember me now that he had what he sought, but for me, his face was burned into my heart and it would be that that I saw every time I looked in the mirror, not my own.

  Every time I saw my empty gums.

  2

  The darkness of the tunnels consumed me, my stumbling feet dragging me forward as blood poured from my gaping mouth, one fist clutching my retrieved coat and trailing it through the dirt. It was all I could do to keep myself moving forward; everything else was a snarled noise forced to the back of my mind, held at bay until I found freedom. What sort of freedom would I be entering? I had no idea, only that I must reach it.

  I feared that I would find Gillis down in this maze and he would finish the task he had started, but either he had long since gone, or luck was tentatively siding with me, as I found the stairs without incident. My hands trembled with shock as I hauled myself upwards, pulling my body towards the door, the fluttering light matching the beats of my heavy heart. I expected the night to have slipped by once I finally ascended to the top and pushed through into the alley, but I found the moon still shone overhead as if no time had passed.

  How could that be? I felt I had been trapped for years beneath, the torture inflicted on me drawn out and slow. Surely it should be day at least, some sign to show me the world had moved while mine had stopped?

  The frozen wind delighted in my exposed flesh, nipping my sleek-furred limbs, so I hastily pulled my coat on, my movements clumsy as I staggered down the alley. What a change; where before we had run breathless and joyful, now I limped alone, my boots barely able to lift in the snow, my limbs hanging as snowflakes drifted down to cover me. It was as if I had been stripped of not only my teeth, but also my soul.

  The sun was rising to her throne when I finally shuffled through the streets surrounding my home, smoke already drifting from the painted chimneys as parents rose early to bake simple loafs or smoke freshly caught fish. No curtains twitched as I passed and no playful children spotted me, a blotch of red and black in the fresh snow of the day.

  It was my sister who discovered me, her screams piercing the bright morning when she saw her broken brother, a trail of blood streaming behind him from gums that would not stop bleeding. Chaos followed, a chorus of screams and shouts, of rushing feet and hands gripping me, hauling me into the house. I could feel my mind slipping from me, shock causing my limbs to shake. Soon, voices that had seemed so shrill only moments before began to fade away, no longer sounding as close as I knew them to be. Unconsciousness sneaked up behind me, laying its heavy cloak of the void over my shoulders, easing both pain and sorrow from me until I was nothing, until there was nothing.

  Those feelings only returned to me when I finally woke, my wet eyelids twitching, the lashes glued together with spent tears. I lay inert, unwilling to reclaim my senses but unable to blot out the hushed sounds of conversation floating from nearby, amongst the clang and clatter of everyday life.

  I turned my head, holding the hiss of pain the action inspired tightly in my mouth, the softness of the pillow beneath me doing little to ease the ache of my swollen jaw. The scent of my mother filled my nostrils, the home-made soap she boiled, fat, lye and pine needles overwhelming me. Tentatively, I reached out, my fingers stiff as they slid over the patched quilt tucked around me, the rough stitches raised and tactile.

  I had been returned to my bed, a place I had only the night before dreamed peacefully.

  Rather than be filled with relief, I felt fear soaring within me. I had disgraced my parents, chosen a path that had led to my own ruin, made decisions that had left my soul dirtied, my gums devoid of my innocent teeth and with nothing to replace them with. How could I face them? How would they look at me knowing that I had thrown our traditions aside, snatched away their chance to see me into adulthood? It was as much my fault as it was Gillis’s, for I had given him the opportunity. All because I had wanted to be other than I was.

  “Angora?”

  I turned my head towards the sound, opening my eyes so that I gazed into the face of my sister, her shining eyes and pale, white cheeks right beside the edge of the bed. Her small, blunt horns poked from the riot of black hair curling forth, her tiny ears hidden beneath.

  “Eve…” I spoke hoarsely, my throat burning. My fur was no longer covered in blood, my ceremony smock removed and plain breeches and a shirt cladding my form instead. Someone had taken the care to brush my own curls and furred mane, ridding it of dirt.

  She reached forward slowly, running her small, clawed fingers down my cheeks, and touching the curled horns on my forehead. Her fingers never strayed near my mouth, instead tracing my eyes and nose, all the while her face lost in thought, as if she was trying to understand if I was the same person, if such a change could really happen so quickly.

  I could have easily told her this if she had only asked, that though my body would heal, it was inside where the change had taken place. Like so many great shifts in our lives that are never visible to others, I had been altered. Deep inside, my life had already been carved in two, before and after.

  “Mother and Father wish to see you. I promised I would take you to them once you woke,” she whispered.

  I nodded, noticing the worry that flashed in her eyes. Slowly, I reached out a hand, silently asking for assistance, and she gently helped me to rise, supporting my frame when I could not. Though the force of the attack had been upon my mouth, it had left my whole body reeling. Everything ached, and livid bruises were already pulsing along my back and arms, hidden by my sleek fur. With Eve’s help, I managed to sway across the room, my head thick and heavy with each movement.

  The houses in this district were not like the ones cupped beneath the mountains, though they mirrored them in shape and colour. Everything was smaller and cramped, buildings huddled together as there was no other protection from the winds. Large, dominating fireplaces raged in many of the rooms, smoking and burning flames to ward off the chill. They stained the already faded wallpaper with soot and made the weak cough. I had heard in the grand houses that they had servants to clean, metal guards to catch the soot, and such large and glamorous rooms with steep chimneys, so for them, the smoke proved to be no problem.

  Our chimneys were cracked or toppled and the paint that had once been so lovingly applied to the outside of the houses was worn bare by ice and wind. It gave my family's house and the ones surrounding it the appearance of an elderly person who was once a beauty, still trying to cling to what was.

  “Angora, sit,” my mother said as Eve lead me into the communal room, leaving her own battered, wooden seat and helping my sister to guide me into it, the surface still warm from her body. My eyes took in the details I had previously taken for granted: the worn hangings upon the papered walls, hiding the spots where it had began to peel. The cauldron over the hearth, already bubbling with fish stew for the evening.

  Finally, I couldn’t avoid my parents, looking to each of their closed fac
es, their mouths thin lines and eyes shuttered, hiding all feeling behind them.

  I opened my mouth to speak but no words tumbled out, silence continuing to fill the small room. My courage was brief and I found myself unable to keep eye contact, instead focusing on the shelves of jars and plates above the cracked sink. The deep grooves in the table where countless fish had been gutted, and the stout chairs surrounding it.

  “Angora…” Father began, but his voice faltered, his hand over his mouth as he closed his eyes, finally giving away his emotions. Eve moved to his side, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head against his stomach.

  “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I only wanted…” I began, but how could I explain to them what I’d wanted? I had barely been able to grasp and understand it myself before Gillis, and even then it had been wreathed in star-light, not the hard truth that it had really been.

  “I wanted to be different, for my life to be different,” I whispered, the closest explanation I could offer for the tangle of wishes inside my chest.

  The silence invaded once more, pressing in on us until all I could hear was the throbbing in my own head as I held it in my hands.

  “And now you are,” Mother breathed, shattering the silence despite her words being barely audible. Unlike my father, she was still managing to maintain control of her emotions, the eyes that met mine hard and full of resolve.

  Yes, now I was different but not in the way I had ever wanted. Understanding flashed between us and I knew my fate before the words even left her mouth, her red teeth mottled from a combination of poor workmanship and years of use. I had once delighted in their ruby colour but now they too closely mirrored my own violated maw.

  “You can’t stay here, Angora. Your father and I will provide all we can for you, but you understand that now you are a Pariah.” She sighed, running her hand over her untidy plait. “It would taint us all for you to stay.”

  Tears trailed down my father’s face while Eve sobbed openly, soaking his worn shirt with her tears. Their anger and fear filled the room with buzzing voices as they argued with her, pleaded with her, but I took no notice. Of course, I had no teeth now and would be neither a child nor an adult. I was caught between worlds, a creature that shouldn’t be, and therefore I couldn’t be in the world either. I was adrift, caught between stages.

  I had heard of Pariahs before, rare though they may be. People left at the mercies of the elements, scrounging for a living from the fringes of the city. With no magic and no teeth, they were less than a person; no longer a citizen, but an animal.

  “I understand,” I spoke, the words leaving my mouth unbidden, somehow managing to be heard over my father’s increasingly angered protests. “I understand, I will go.”

  “No Angora! You’re our son, we will not cast you out; there must be something else we can do…” He shook his head violently, coming towards me and placing his hands on my shoulders while looking wildly between me and my mother. “You are my son; surely there is something…”

  “There is nothing! Do you think when our neighbours hear of this, they will allow us to stay here, that they will allow him in their midst? He is bad luck; an ill omen. He’ll curse the youths to befall the same fate; he will tempt them.”

  “He will not!” he cried, holding me close to him, surprising me with the tenderness of his embrace. “He is none of those things!”

  “You think I don't know that! Of course he will not bring sorrow or blight but despite that, that is what they will say. It goes against our traditions, everything we have been taught. If he stays, we will all soon find ourselves Pariahs. Is that what you want for Eve? She has a chance at life, a chance to earn her teeth. Angora has thrown that away. We must think of her,” she answered, sitting down heavily in another chair, her hand to her forehead as angry tears cascaded down her pale cheeks.

  “No! We have to stay together as a family!” Eve exclaimed, running to my side and flinging her arms around me. I looked down, catching sight of her perfect white teeth behind her pink lips. So pure and unmarked.

  “No, she’s right. I have brought this on the family, so I must leave,” I concluded, already able to see the events that would follow if I did not. First the whispers, rumours spreading like melted snow until no one would trade with my family, their money unwanted. Then my parents would lose their jobs, one day arriving to find no place for themselves. Then the thinly veiled threats, the blame laid at our feet, the rumours spreading from a trickle into a raging stream, one ready to sweep my family away.

  Father and Eve might not have seen it, but for me and Mother, it was a path already paved and all it would take for us to be upon it was for me to stay one more night, to cling to them in denial. Her eyes met mine over Father’s shoulder and I saw deep within them how it tore her asunder to cast me out, that she wouldn’t just be losing me but Father’s love and Eve’s devotion. But, I also saw that she would do it, to keep them safe, to protect our family from my mistake.

  I understood, through the pain and sorrow, though it felt as if she was sacrificing me for Eve. I understood that for her, this was the only choice. I did not know if I could ever forgive her, for what child could accept being cast out by their parent?

  But still, I understood her reasons and I accepted them.

  To spare us all, she hurriedly packed away provisions for me, a thick cloak and sturdy boots that would perhaps give me a chance against the cold. I tried to form the words for goodbyes, Father holding me tightly and wordlessly until Mother pressed the bag into my hands. He tried to smile, exposing his cracked blue teeth, an attempt at easing our emotions.

  “The money we had saved for your teeth; it’s not much, but it will buy food for awhile…” she sobbed, her hands clutching mine tightly and briefly before she stepped back.

  “Angora, please don't go! Please!” Eve whimpered, her face swollen and red with her grief as she grabbed at me, pulling at my clothes.

  “I must, I must,” I breathed, bending down to her eye level and gripping her shoulders. My head throbbed, my jaw numb, so my words were slurred but I forced all the love I felt for her into my eyes, wishing I could show her in more ways, wishing I could offer a false smile as my father had. “We will see each other again, I don't know how or where but we will. I promise.”

  I left the house for the last time, mindful of their eyes watching my retreating form as I staggered forth, tears freezing upon my cheeks. Though it hurt to lose them, my already torn heart being rendered with blow after blow as I walked away, I knew it was for the best. They were full of tomorrows, hopes and plans and I was a void. If I had stayed, I would have only pulled them into the darkness, made them forget that they had a life ahead of them. Mother was right; I was caught, neither a child nor grown. An anomaly, a creature that had no place.

  If I wasn't a bad omen now, I would become one, given time.

  3

  Elbridge took on a sinister quality now that I was no longer one of its citizens.

  For those growing up on the edge of the river, it had always borne a glittering, mysterious veneer despite the fact that we traversed the same streets as those born in its central areas. Though we might tread the snowy paths made by sleighs and peer through windows showcasing intricate displays of confectionery and wares, we were always reminded that for us to step inside the grander stores, we would need to be far wealthier than we were. I had thought that a childhood of such poverty would have prepared me for being a Pariah, but Elbridge lost even that appearance, becoming vile and dangerous. I was no longer even permitted to gaze into the world to which I didn’t belong, but cast off the front steps of shops and chased down streets.

  My first nights were spent huddled in alleyways, wrapped in my thick cloak and trying to keep the warmth in my limbs. Wind ripped through the streets, howling and threatening, but I dared not go into the labyrinth of tunnels Gillis had shown me. Instead, I made nests for myself from rubbish, piling unsteady walls around me and curling up wi
th newspapers and cast off blankets. I stayed in those nests for most of the day, only moving on when I was found, the owners of the houses either side of me displeased with having one such as myself loitering there. Whenever I was met with aversion, taunts or anger, I made sure to keep my mouth closed, hiding my lack of teeth.

  Unlike other cities in warmer climates, Elbridge had few vagrants on the streets, if only because of the simple fact of the weather. While exploring the alleys and crossing over the many bridged streams in those first days, I had come across a frozen body. A young woman, curled with layers upon layers of clothes heaped on her slight figure. At first, she had seemed to be just a pile of fabric and no doubt that was what everyone else had seen. I had only looked closer as I had hoped to salvage some of it, my eyes noticing the thin hand bare to the sun, the black fingers already showing signs of purple rot.

  The snow and ice purged the city of its filth, the unwanted souls swept away in frigid water or trampled in collapsed tunnels. Without the fires to keep them warm, with scant food and only river water to drink, there was no need of the authorities to take action; the climate did it for them.

  Still, that did little to stop the citizens making sport out of me, chasing me when I attempted to beg on the steps or shop-fronts when the little money I had ran out. When they spotted my form at the edge of crowd, some of them would holler abuse. I kept my mouth clamped shut, but even without the evidence, they guessed what I had done. I was filthy, shameful, less than them.

  Sometimes aid was offered in the form of a hunk of bread or a coin, but besides horror, the reaction I most often faced were the citizens’ eyes glancing over me, completely unseeing.

  Despite this, there was beauty to be found in the streets and in the face of such animosity, I craved it, devouring the sights of dawn and the hectic day that followed it. Radiant colours washed the star strewn sky in shades, growing purple and orange as the sun rose. Pole bearers came to smash the ice that had thickened on the streams over night, spiked spears driven deep into the water as they balanced on the bridges, calling greetings to each other. Clouds of smoke rose from chimneys, and curtains fluttered as people rose from their beds.