A Just Farewell by Brian S. Wheeler

history expressed by those tattoos, and he thought that perhaps
whatever meaning was to be read by the marks a ward husband placed
upon his wife was to be shared only between them and the Maker.
     
    Yet that thought didn’t at all help Abraham
imagine what he would tattoo upon Alexis and Cassandra’s face when
Josef placed the inking needle into his hand.
     
    Echoes from the ladder announced the high
cleric’s arrival, and the community’s spiritual shepherd smiled as
Josef’s wife offered a cup of tea before retreating out of the
central chamber. No one said a word for many minutes as the
assembly enjoyed Josef’s tea service, which tasted strong, and a
little bitter, upon Abraham’s young tongue. The silence magnified
Abraham’s anxiety, and he was pleased when the high cleric spoke as
he poured everyone a second helping.
     
    “Your wife brews excellent tea, Josef. I
must remember to ask her for advice before returning to my quiet
study. Forgive my tardiness in accepting your invitation. I stopped
by a home to hear another family describe the strange, colorful
cockroaches lately seen scurrying about our community.”
     
    Abraham gulped, and his eyes locked on the
contents of his cup.
     
    Rahbin’s eyebrow arched. “My wife claimed to
have seen such a thing this morning. Do you think the great devil
might have sent spies into our flock?”
     
    The high cleric sipped at his tea before
answering. “It is too early to tell, nor have I seen such a bug for
myself yet. Perhaps the Maker sends color into those bugs to remind
us that even cockroaches count among his blessed creation. Or
perhaps such bright shells are merely the handiwork of a foolish
child.”
     
    Abraham shivered at scurrying sound that
echoed from opposite wall’s shadows. It was so faint that he
doubted he would have been aware of the noise had it not been for
his recent familiarity with the creature responsible for the noise.
The bug hid well in the shadow, but Abraham spotted its orange
carapace a second before it retreated from his vision, perhaps
nesting deeper within some crack in the wall, or perhaps exiting
Josef’s home altogether through some concealed and tiny tunnel it
had already burrowed through the ground. Abraham’s instinct led him
to suspect, however, that the bug remained close, its fine antennae
no doubt wavering in the air, its eyes likely finding a nook from
which it could spy on the gathering. What if the great devil
watched them through that bug? What if the Maker looked through the
cockroach’s sight? The uncertainty pained Abraham, but perhaps that
too was another challenge of his year of man-making.
     
    The high cleric softly cleared his throat,
and Abraham thought the cleric’s eyes stared in the direction of
the bug’s shadow before the old man’s dark eyes squared upon his
own.
     
    “I realize I haven’t asked you yet, Abraham,
but do you agree to serve as the Maker’s husband to Josef’s
daughters, Alexis and Cassandra?”
     
    Rahbin quickly answered. “The Maker will
bless Abraham with twins. He is honored to accept.”
     
    The high cleric shrugged. “Tell me, Rahbin,
has your son dug his own hole?”
     
    “He has.”
     
    “And did you not notice the injuries your
son carried home after that digging?”
     
    “I did, and they made me proud.”
     
    The high cleric frowned. “And yet you ignore
them?”
     
    “I do not,” and Rahbin’s eyes cast upon the
floor.
     
    Abraham took a breath when he saw a fire
catch in the cleric’s eyes. “Then you will show your son the
dignity he has thus far deserved and close your mouth before I cut
out your tongue.” In a breath, the high cleric with the long beard
was once more the instrument of the Maker’s law and wrath, and
Abraham dared not deny anything that high cleric demanded. “So tell
me now, boy, will you be the vessel for the Maker? Will you open
your body to the Maker when he chooses to plant his creation within
their wombs?”
     
    The