Calvin Baker - Dominion

The Englishman defended himself. “He is an agent of the pope.”

“It does not take an agent of the pope to know God would never hide His wisdom from us,” the other countered. “And if not for theology then for the sake of philosophy, but he is illiterate and ignorant as dirt. If he were not, he would not so disregard the doctrine of Telos, as described by Aristotle in his thesis of metaphysics. Sophia is no more lost than a bird in winter, but fulfilling her function according to divine plan, which is mysterious. Anyone who claims to know it is a bigger blasphemer than Satan himself.”

In all this the crowd began taking sides, arguing either from religious, superstitious, or philosophical views about who was right and who was wrong, as others ignored both men and kept moving toward the woman, some shouting as she touched them, others falling down in the aisle and weeping. The most profound feeling among all of them that morning belonged to Purchase Merian.

After the last congregant had finished wailing he walked up to the healing chair and sat down. Somewhere inside himself he knew what he did amounted to bad faith where God Himself might have been concerned, but the religiousness of his feelings was undeniable. He had made his way to that chair with a palpitating heart that quickened when Mary Josepha put her hands on him. As he sat there under her hand, every desire within him was to join with her. If she were truly a vessel for the spirit, he would accept conversion and serve her God. If she were vessel for some other concern that stood unseen behind her, he would serve that instead, so long as he could keep her hands on him. He held his eyes closed and allowed what she offered to course through him. He knew there were unknown forces in the world that he had felt, unbidden or else in deep moments of contemplation. When she touched him he did not know what it was that she offered, and it reminded him not of the energy of creation, as he had known it before, but something just as white hot in his breast. When he opened his eyes he thought he knew what it was and shivered. To his surprise he also felt her hand trembling as she held it there on his forehead. He knew not only what it was then, but that it was also experiencing out of the ordinary for either her church or any other. In that instant he almost pulled her down into his lap, but he stayed still and rigid in the chair, receiving her touch.

The other preacher looked at them with a fiery stare that spoke not of spiritual disapproval but erotic jealousy. Whether she herself struggled with religious notions or the more earthly ones that sometimes pulled on them, he did not know, but Purchase was certain he would win her over for his own.

As he sat, there was a shot fired in the audience, and people began climbing over each other to leave the tent, which was quickly brought to lean on one side. Magnus reached for Sanne and Merian, and they began making their way toward the exit. Someone pushed against their back, and Sanne was knocked down to her knees, and her purse disappeared. While the two men made a cordon around her with their bodies to give her room to stand, they were manhandled by the crowd and nearly toppled over, as the other side of the tent came down and full pandemonium erupted. Finally they were able to get Sanne to her feet and, with brute strength, force their way out of the commotion.

When the tent finally cleared, it was collapsed everywhere but under its main pole. There Purchase still sat in the healing seat, with Mary Josepha’s hands still on him.

Their congress when it was finished had lasted a full ten minutes, through all the bedlam, and if Mary Josepha had possessed healing power Purchase would have been cleansed and fixed of all that ever disturbed him. Instead, he was possessed by a great wanting, and when she removed her hands from him he was afraid such as he had never been before — of being without her touch.

She looked slightly wild about the eyes, and her girdle was misaligned. After she took her hands down she did not know what to think of the man who had sat so calmly through all the commotion without flinching, as if he were afraid of nothing in the world. When he finally stood and took her arm to find them a pathway out of the fallen tent, she felt hot beneath his hand and realized she had been wanting for him to return her touch the entire time he was seated there.

Outside, Purchase placed her on his horse, mounted the animal behind her, and rode off. Mary Josepha had a prearranged meeting on the edge of town with her husband, Oswin Palmer. When Purchase rode in the other direction, however, she did not protest.

Purchase took her to the same room in back of his workshop where he had asked her to wait for him the last time they met. This time, instead of going off, he went inside with her and bolted the door. There they spent the entire rest of the day in the thrall of each other’s embrace.

They were still there the next day, when Magnus came round from Stonehouses looking for him. Sanne had been very distraught that he had not come home after the chaos at the prayer meeting and worried he was hurt in the mayhem. Magnus, though, who had observed him as he sat in the chair, suspected he had finally conspired a way to be alone with the preacher woman.

When Magnus knocked at the door there was no response from inside at first. He knocked louder, finally calling out, until Purchase responded. “What do you want?”

“Open the door,” Magnus said.

It was silent inside, but after a while the worn wooden door creaked open and Purchase stood there, looking as though he had not slept for many days.

“Sanne wants to know what happened to you.”

“Tell her I’ll be around for dinner.”

“Will you?”

When Magnus came back without Purchase, but told them he had found him in his workshop, Sanne was quieted. Merian, however, grew suspicious.

“What was he doing there?”

“Repairing a wheel,” Magnus answered.

“Likely,” Merian returned. “Any sign of those two preachers around town?”

“None that I have seen,” Magnus said.

“You’re a remarkable poor liar,” Merian said. “That’s a marvel for a slave, but it’s a sign of your mother’s character, not your own. You would lie if you could; you just can’t. You are trying your mighty best, though.”

“He says he will be here at dinner.”

That afternoon, as Sanne and Adelia put food out for the family, Purchase came through the door, and Magnus was relieved to see his brother had not gone mad enough to bring the woman with him.

During the meal he answered all their questions glancingly, hiding his secret thoughts, and departed as soon as the table was cleared. Merian watched him go with a heavy heart, for he could see the beginning of unhappiness in his son, who until then had seldom known the evil of tears. At least that is what Merian imagined. Purchase to all the world looked elated that afternoon, and, when he took his horse and galloped off in a frenzy, anyone watching would have thought it was a youthful hunger for speed and experience rather than eagerness to find heartbreak.

When he returned to the shop that evening, Mary Josepha was gone again, as were all of her things, and the room was carefully straightened. Next to the place where they had made their bed, he found a coin with a strange marking on it he had not seen before. When he realized she had abandoned the place, he felt as if he had just walked through a sheet of glass and was only waiting for the noise to reach him. He knew then he could not hear the noise because he was inside it and its sound was pain itself.

He sat there awhile, still hoping her departure was only momentary and that she might come back through the door with all her things proclaiming the desire to stay with him, until he could no longer bear the atmosphere of the room and soon went out and mounted his horse, intending to ride a spell so that he might gather himself. His feelings were still tender in his breast three hours later when he stopped the horse in front of the roadhouse.