7. Going Off List
7. Going Off List
~ brIDGET ~
I was walking down the aisle at Walmart, frowning at the list. I’d gotten all the medical supplies quickly—bandaids, disinfectant, bandages and medical tape all in various sizes and lengths, ice packs, and a thermometer. Even a wrist-brace, a reversible sling, and some finger splints, which made me raise my eyebrows. But none of that was entirely unexpected. He’d said there would be several hunts. And since I was presumably going to live through all except the last, I supposed it made sense that I might need medical supplies in the aftermath.
The entirely black, athletic clothes were easy to figure out, but harder to find. It seemed like everything had little pops of color, visible brands, or those mesh cut-outs. Yet, I got there.
There were a few other random items that weren’t hard to find, but the last few things had me stumped. I was definitely going to need to go somewhere else after this.
A burner phone I could understand, I supposed. Though they were hard to find prepaid these days. And it wasn’t like there wasn’t already a trail on my computer to him. I mean, it would take some FBI hot shot with a grudge to find him. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew nothing was completely hidden anymore. Plus, I had screenshots.
But a silk sleeping mask, a tube of lanolin, four jar candles in scents that I liked—with wooden wicks and lids that could stand up on their own… and a bible?
I’d had to read that one several times before I was sure I wasn’t hallucinating.
Then I laughed.
And then I went shopping.
And now I had everything but the bible. And that little niggle in the back of my head kept making me snicker to myself. Because it was too perfect. How had he known?
He hadn’t, of course, it was a coincidence. I knew for certain Gerald wasn’t running in any of the circles that Cain did. But it did make me look over my shoulder for a while. Because it was too perfect.
But then again, why not? Gerald would be so proud.
So, once I had everything paid for and packed into the car, I looked at my phone, decided I had time for the forty-minute drive, and set off. Because I wanted to get started. And I couldn’t do that until I had all these things.
And if I was going in hunt of a freaking Bible of all things, and Gerald wanted me to talk to the one person who’d give me good advice without needing anything from me… well… two birds with one stone.
Richard would have a bible I could have. I was certain of it. And it gave me an ice-breaker when he freaked out because he hadn’t seen me in several years.
I was surprised about how nervous I was on the drive. Richard had always been clear that I was welcome anywhere he was. And in recent years, he always sent a Christmas card with a handwritten note, and he’d emailed a couple of times, too.
He was semi-retired now, and so close, it was a shame we didn’t see each other more. Wouldn’t I like to jump in the car sometime?
Last Christmas was the first that passed since high school where I didn’t get a card from him. I hadn’t had an email in a few months either, though. So maybe he was giving up on me. Maybe I’d finally pissed him off by ignoring all his efforts.
I prayed to the God he worshiped that wasn’t the case. It would be good to see him again. And since I wasn’t going to be around much longer, it would be our last chance.
Not that I’d tell him that. But still.
When I finally found the church in the little backwater named Dayne, I was surprised by the size of the parking lot. But it was right next to the highway, and there was a big truck stop just half a mile down the road, so maybe they were the kind of place that got a lot of travelers.
I pulled the visor down in my car and checked my hair before I got out, which was stupid.
Father Richard—I called him Father Dick, which always made his eyes twinkle—had to be almost eighty by now. Or maybe he wasn’t that old if he only retired a few years ago. Maybe he just felt that old because we met when I was fourteen and he already had gray hair.
Well, I was going to find out. I caught myself smoothing my shirt down nervously and stopped myself. Richard was the warmest, sweetest person on the planet. If he didn’t smile when he saw me, no one was going to.
That thought didn’t make me feel better.
It wasn’t until I got up to the top of the stairs and realized that the arched, double front doors were locked that it occurred to me that churches didn’t stay open all week like businesses.
And I felt so dumb.
I’d just driven forty minutes to stand on a step at a church alongside the highway and feel stupid. Because of course no one was there on a Thursday afternoon in August. I quickly read the sign next to the door that said services were Sunday mornings, Sunday and Wednesday evenings, and that group meets were in the hall behind the chapel.
Maybe there would be someone there? I could go look, and while I was walking around, I’d check my email and send him a message just in case he was close. Maybe he had a cellphone number on it.
Or maybe I was stupid and this had been a dumb idea all along.
I was surprised by how disappointed I felt. I’d been making excuses to avoid Richard for years. And yet, maybe I shouldn’t have, because now I kind of felt weepy. That was even dumber.
“Idiot,” I muttered, tucking my hair behind my ears, as I started to turn, looking for the path around the building.
“Well, that’s a little harsh,” a thin, warm voice said behind me. “If you’d told me you were coming I would have made sure we had the parade ready!”
I gasped and whirled to find a beaming, white-haired old man with craggy lines around his eyes, and a fully-bald pate ringed in scrappy white whiskers now. When I gaped at him, his smile got even broader, if that was possible.
“It really is you, Bridget! Thank God!” His eyes were misty as he threw his arms wide.
“Dick!” I squealed and threw myself into his chest.
He laughed as he stumbled back a step and almost toppled down the stairs. I gasped and grabbed for him, pulling him back up until he was steady.
He patted my arm, still beaming. “Thank you, dear. I’m not as steady as I was. But goodness… I am just so glad I left my phone here. Otherwise I would have missed you. See how God works, Bridget. We call this a divine appointment. And there I was muttering about the drive back to get it… Gosh, it’s good to see you.”
That pinch in my eyes came back as he lifted a soft, wrinkled hand to pat my cheek.
“It’s really good to see you too,” I said honestly. “And I’m sorry I didn’t warn you. It kind of happened on a whim and… is there somewhere we can go to talk?”
“Yes, yes! Of course. Come with me—we’ll go make some coffee in the manse. I have a Keurig now,” he said proudly.
I swallowed a snort, but nodded and took the arm he offered because he was an old school gentleman. Then walked with him, down the stairs and around the building, through the parking lot, past what must have been the hall the sign talked about, then through a high wooden fence that looked like it had only been built recently, and down a cute garden path to a small cottage at the back of the chapel.
The whole walk—which was long because he was old—he asked me questions about my life and the people I’d gone to high school with, none of whom I’d kept in touch with. But he had. He’d been the chaplain of our fancy private school, and the only actually good person within those walls, in my opinion.
I apologized for having no gossip for him, but it didn’t matter, because he had plenty.
I heard about how the class of 2015’s chastity-belt wearing princess, Katrina, had eventually married and had kids with the former manwhore, Jimmy. And since there were progeny, that meant they’d definitely had sex.
Richard chuckled. “I didn’t get to do the service, but they invited me to the wedding, and it was beautiful.” He continued as we walked, telling me what he’d seen that day—and all the familiar names who’d been there, which gave me a strange pang… these people were all still friends?
Then he ushered me through the gate in the fence and up a short path to the cottage.
“Would you like normal coffee, or the hazelnut flavored? That’s my favorite,” he asked warmly as we stepped into a small, dingy, but comfortable little place, ushering me into the small entryway that was right next to an even tinier, galley kitchen,
I hesitated. I didn’t usually drink coffee. It wasn’t good for my heart. And, while I wouldn’t really care if Richard gave me the cup that ended up killing me, I’d feel terrible if watching me die gave him a heart attack. The man had earned some time to live without dealing with other people’s shit. Specifically, mine.
“I really don’t need coffee,” I said hurriedly. “I just wanted to talk to you Richard. I don’t mind if we don’t have drinks.”
“I also have ice water, or maybe a coke somewhere…” he said, frowning as he bent to look in the ancient refrigerator in the corner of the tiny kitchen. “What could I get you?”
I shrugged, and it just came out.
“I don’t suppose you have an extra bible?”
I had to bite my lip when he stood up so fast he banged his head on the inside of the fridge and the bottles inside clanged. Then he stepped back and straightened more carefully, muttering and rubbing the back of his skull.
“Say that again?” he said hoarsely, frowning in confusion.
Fucking priceless.
As Richard tried to get over his shock, I made up a story about just doing some research about various religions, but not knowing what books to read. Richard hurried off and got me one and talked at length about where I should start. I thanked him, but couldn’t really take it in because the moment I had the book in my hands I realized… I had the whole list.
I was prepared.
I could send the image to Cain and this hunt would be on.
It was hard to sit for another hour and catch up, but I made myself do it because Richard was a wonderful man and I was trying to be nicer to people. Plus, Gerald was going to cream his jeans when he learned that I’d already spoken to someone like he asked.
Of course, it wasn’t all easy.
At some point Richard gave me The Look—brows furrowed, eyes pinched with concern, voice spoken softly and with too much care.
“So… how are you doing? Have you heard from your father?”
I wanted to slap fifteen year old me for her moment of weakness when she’d shared our past with Richard who had gingerly tried to enquire about why, in the past year, I’d developed a penchant for opening my legs for a new boy every week or so. And being a complete bitch to everyone else.
“I’m fine. I’m still in counselling. Dad’s still in prison. And I don’t want to talk about him,” I said, honestly.
Richard sighed, but nodded, and turned the conversation to other things, which helped me breathe.
I was still clutching that bible tightly in my lap an hour later, though, when I told him I had to get home. And of course, he argued and didn’t want me to leave, even when I assured him that I had other commitments this evening and wouldn’t be alone.
Of course, I didn’t tell him those commitments included proving to my Primal Dom that I’d successfully followed his instructions, but one thing I’d always loved about Richard was that he didn’t pry.
He did, however, insist on feeding me before I left. And I didn’t want to argue, especially when his kind blue eyes got all pleading and sad. So I compromised and met him at the truck- stop diner down the highway, figuring at least then when I went home I wouldn’t need to worry about food.
I was going to be too nervous to eat later anyway.
“Promise me you’ll come again. Soon. And I don’t mean four years later, soon,” he said in the closest thing this sweet man had to a reprimand.
“I promise. I’d… kinda like to talk to you about some stuff sometime. If you have time. My, er, counsellor thinks it would be a good idea.”
“Of course! I’d love to help if I can!”
And that was how I ended up making an appointment to see him again in less than a week, which felt a little bit soon, but I had his number now, so I could change it. And Gerald would have kittens when he heard that I’d gone beyond the necessary. So I’d made two old men happy at the same time. It seemed like a win.
As fall closed in on us, the Pacific Northwest air was getting chilly at night. But I kept my car window down and didn’t feel it because I was humming with adrenaline. I couldn’t stop bouncing in my seat, impatient to get home.
By the time I did it was already growing dark and that just made me even more excited. I had everything on Cain’s list. And one thing he hadn’t asked for, but he was going to get. All that was left to do was arrange it all so everything could be seen in the same photograph, post the image in the forum. Then wait.
God, I hoped he didn’t make me wait.
When I got home, I made sure the garage door was closed before I carried the bags inside, which wasn’t necessary. It wasn’t like I had drug contraband, or something. But I was more nervous than a virgin on prom night… if the virgin was also horny and excited.
It took a surprisingly long time to arrange everything so that every single item could be seen in the same image. I’d wanted to make it look like a gift basket, but that just sucked. Then I thought about taking a wide shot with myself laying naked on the floor in front of it, only posting the part of the picture with the stuff in it on the board, but showing him the wider shot later. But since it was possible my death would make the news and Cain would be investigated, I didn’t want that living in perpetuity on the internet.
So in the end, it was a picture on my hardwood floor that looked like a neighborhood marketplace picture of a bad lot from a garage sale. But it did the job.
My fingers trembled as I logged into the VPN, then accessed the forum. I mistyped the title of the post three times, and cursed until I got it right.
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IT’S ALL THERE
Image.png
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I sat back in my chair while the site buffered, then blinked, then the post was live.
Holy shit. This was really happening.