A Just Farewell by Brian S. Wheeler Page B

be long before dark glasses
covered their green eyes, before their hair was stained that color
of silver known by each woman among the Maker’s faithful
tribes.
     
    Abraham gripped the ready needle and
approached the girl to his right. Josef pinned his daughter’s
shoulders against her cot, and Rahbin squeezed her legs, the men
using their strength to keep the child from squirming. Abraham
resisted his urge to flinch as the girl struggled against her bonds
and captors. He set his knee upon the girl’s chest, and with his
free hand pressed a side of her face into the cot so that the
opposite cheek provided an unmoving canvas. Reminding himself to
work with a steady and strong hand to show that girl kindness,
Abraham poked the needle in and out of his subject’s cheek, his
fingers suddenly confident of the design needed to be etched below
the skin’s surface. His needle worked efficiently, as if the Maker
himself entered Abraham to guide the boy’s effort. Abraham left a
red, bleeding mark upon the girl’s face and then applied his
efforts to the other sister. The high cleric smiled to watch the
boy work. As he hoped, the task of killing those creatures he had
delivered to that child had well prepared that boy for the needle.
The high cleric never doubted the ability of Abraham’s artistic
craft.
     
    Josef clapped his hands as he looked upon
the blossom of swirls Abraham left on each of his daughter’s faces.
“What a glorious beginning. I don’t doubt that with time you will
see those swirls expand and grow to write such a wonderful history
upon Alexis and Cassandra.”
     
    “The Maker moved within you, Abraham.” The
high cleric nodded.
     
    Abraham breathed a long sigh of relief. He
felt proud of the marks he placed beneath the skin. His hands had
not shaken and trembled so badly to force a poor effort with the
tattoo needle. And most importantly of all, the high cleric said
that the Maker moved within him. The designs etched upon the faces
of those twins, those swirls that were very similar to those
Abraham had painted upon an orange shell of a cockroach, were not
tainted inspirations delivered by the great devil. They were
glorious decorations whispered from the divine Maker’s grace. He no
longer needed to fear that the great devil possessed him. A future
and a place within his community and tribes unfolded before
him.
     
    Rahbin gave his son a short embrace. “You
transform into a man before my very eyes.”
     
    “He’s not a man just yet,” spoke the high
cleric. “Abraham must undergo another passage before he acquires
his tribal cape.”
     
    Josef rubbed his hand through Abraham’s
hair. “Oh, but I’m sure we won’t have to wait long.”
     
    “We shall see,” the high cleric nodded.
     
    A rare, salvo of joy rushed Abraham out of
that room. Rahbin invited Josef and the high cleric back to his
home, where his wife greeted them with a celebratory feast.
Neighbors and other clerics visited briefly throughout the
afternoon to congratulate Abraham on his engagement to Josef’s
daughters, and the high cleric even excused Abraham from any
afternoon duties within the butcher shop. Abraham no longer felt
like such a frightened child. He felt like a man, whose faith in
the Maker was rewarded with a long and grand future.
     
    No one invited the twins Alexis and
Cassandra to share in that feast thrown in Abraham’s home to
celebrate their coming marriage to a boy who promised to be the
vessel of the Maker’s love. They were left alone in their dim
chamber, left in their bonds until they calmed. They were left tied
to their cots so that their hands did not scratch at the marks that
burned upon their cheeks. Though their father had tied them very
tightly, their gags couldn’t choke their sobs.
     
    Thus, they were helpless when a strange,
ugly cockroach with an unnaturally orange shell decorated with
swirls scurried out from the shadows. Their eyes widened with fear
to watch the bug scamper onto