Davis Aurini - As I Walk These Broken Roads

There were a few people wandering about doing their shopping, and a couple of carriages drawn by oxen. The carriages were made of welded steel and wood with a traditional design, showing no sign of automotive parts in their construction. The Mennites were all dressed in black, the men sporting long beards and wide brimmed hats, with most of them women wearing a neckerchief tied over their heads. There were no children to be seen.

Wentworth knew that the two of them stood out; even in a trade city, his own bearing combined with Raxx’s height and facial piercings made them hard to ignore; out here it was even worse. But the locals didn’t spare them a glance. It wasn’t politeness, though. The lack of curiosity felt baleful.

“I think we’re being ignored,” he said.

“Yeah, I get that too.”

They strolled over to one of the open air stands. There was a selection of fruit and vegetables for sale. Wentworth took an apple, and Raxx picked up a green pepper, walking over to the counter to pay the proprietor. She was plump and well fed, with grey in her hair.

“Good afternoon, young gents,” she said in a sing-song voice, “Come out all this way for a couple of Annie’s veggies? She’s not that famous is she?”

Wentworth smiled and reached for his money-fold. “Well I have been told that this is where to find the juiciest greens around. And driving down these roads is thirsty work.”

“Well in that case you won’t be disappointed! I hope these’ll cure what ails you.”

“Say,” started Raxx, also putting on a friendly expression, “we’ve heard that there’s been some trouble in the area recently. Is it anything we ought to be worried about?”

“Oh, there have been a few boys being boys, I’m sure you know all about that, but nothing to be concerned with, no.”

“Really?” said Wentworth, doing his best to keep his tone light. “We heard that it’s been going as far as theft, and it’s getting worse. There’s really nothing for us to be worried about?”

His prying caused her expression to freeze around the edges, though she maintained her cheerful façade. “Oh, well, ol’ Annie doesn’t get out much, gents. Might be, might be there’s been some trouble she hasn’t heard about. Best you be talking to Mr. Jenkins about what’s been happening in these here parts. He’s always been so keen about that sort of thing, you’ll most-like find him in the Church,” she indicated the barn-like building with a nod of her head. “So is that all then for you? In that case Annie has some work she must attend to.” She hurried off back into her shop, not waiting for their reply. The two of them wandered back to the truck and leaned against its grill as they ate.

“This is going well,” said Wentworth.

“Yeah. I think I’m getting an idea of why the Captain was so frustrated by these people.” He took a bite, chewed and swallowed, “So do you want to see what this Jenkins guy has to say? He sounds like one of the elders who stonewalled O’Neil. Maybe we can get something out of him.”

“Guess so. Let’s go after we finish these.”

They finished eating and walked over to the Church. For a moment Wentworth was at a loss. He knocked on the door, but the wood was too thick. His knuckles barely made a sound.

“We just walk in,” provided Raxx noticing Wentworth’s confusion, “but you should probably remove your goggles, out of politeness.” He pulled the heavy door open and stepped in.

Uncertain of the setting, Wentworth let Raxx take the lead. The interior was dim, the only light coming from narrow windows high up on the walls, and an array of candles at the far back. Immediately upon entering they were in an alcove used for hanging coats, and posting notices. An open archway led into the main room of the Church. Several rows of uncomfortable looking benches were on either side, and towards the back, in front of the candles, was a raised platform with a podium on it. Hanging on the back wall was a carving of a man nailed to a couple of wooden stakes. Wentworth vaguely recognized this as one of the gods of an old religion, and a shiver ran down his spine.

Without wasting time rubbernecking Raxx led the way into the main room, Wentworth following in his wake. Dust motes floated motionlessly in the diffused light coming through the windows, and their footfalls made echoing retorts through the building’s silence. In the left corner at the back, standing by a small hallway, stood a figure wearing robes and holding a book. His dark hair was slicked back, and beard was sharp and neat. He looked up as they entered, eyes devoid of emotion.

“Excuse me sir,” said Raxx, “Are you Father Jenkins?”

“I am Mister Jenkins young man. I am father only to my own children. You seem to have the advantage over me; I do not recognize you as being one sired in our community. Might I ask your names?”

“I apologize, Mr. Jenkins, no offence intended. My name is Raxx, this is my friend Wentworth,” he spoke quickly, with a staccato cadence, trying to get his point across quickly. “We were travelling through the area and heard rumours about some sort of trouble you’ve been having with local bandits. Annie at the fruit stand said we should speak to you if we wanted to know more about it. Have things been that bad?”

Jenkins studied them for a moment. “You should have nothing to worry about, if all you are doing is travelling across the land we steward. Through God’s grace we prosper by healing this burnt soil, but the Lord also sends us trials. There is a group of sodomites which has come upon this land and who seek to destroy us. They shall not, though; it is but a trial to bear. They have targeted many outlying farms. They have sent many to grieve, and many to the joy of eternal life; yet they would have no interest in you. You are neither a farm, to be raided for its goods, nor are you one of the brethren, to be afflicted with such a trial. As long as you do not linger in our lands, as welcome as you may be by us, you will not suffer.”

Raxx seemed to pay apt attention and nodded while he spoke, but Wentworth was coming to know him well enough to pick out the stress-line creasing his forehead. “Hm, but we heard they’ve been assaulting some of the people of some town north-east of here… Hope?”

Jenkins shook his head in sorrow, “They do not understand their place, do not know how to steward the land, and they have no relationship with the Lord, and they have inserted themselves into the situation, by their own volition, and their own miscomprehension. They do not belong, but they are here nonetheless. In the situation , I say. Thusly do they suffer. It is not for us to question the Lord, but only to obey.”

“Do you know any more about these raiders?” Raxx asked, “Perhaps we could help you somehow—”

“Enough,” said the priest, sharply, “You likewise try to place yourself where you do not belong, and out of charity I cannot allow you to also come to harm through ignorance. Though we extend you the hand of hospitality, you must understand that you are not part of our community, and can never be, though I will pray that you find your own relationship with the Lord. You must leave after you have conducted your business, and ask no more of these sodomites. It is not for you to know. It is not for you to involve yourselves in. Now I have answered your questions to such a state that you understand them as much as you need to, and I will bid you good day, gents. Please conduct your business here in peace, then leave our community to its trials.” With that he turned back to his book, dismissing them. Raxx paled. He did an about face and stormed out. Wentworth had to rush to catch up.