David Ohle - The Pisstown Chaos

She walked carefully from slippery stone to slippery stone until she got to the potting shed, then blew out the candle. She tried the door and found it locked. Wiping the dirty door-glass, she looked in at Peters, lying on the peat pile with his pants pulled down, fanning his rear with a handful of straw. Red, sitting beside him in Mildred Balls's underwear, combed Peters's coarse hair with a tortoise-shell comb. Peters's cheeks were flushed, his eyes half-closed. When Ophelia entered, the scene seemed all the more lurid for the dim lantern and its flicker.

"I hope you don't take any offense," Red said, "but I've just mated with Peters here."

Peters sat up. "I was quietly potting geraniums when that idiot stepped out of a dark corner and made advances, clumsy, lewd advances, with his big willy sticking out. I tried, but I couldn't resist him."

"Is that true, Red, that he put up resistance?"

"He lies like a rug. He clearly indicated he wanted me to sex him good and sex him hard."

Ophelia saw the pointlessness of going any further with the inquiry. "All is forgiven. Let's move past this."

"I'll serve the swan," Red said.

"Listen to me, Red," Ophelia replied. "Wash yourself carefully before you touch any food."

Peters pulled up his underdrawers, then his mud-caked trousers. "What about me? Don't I get any bird? Who chopped its head oft? It was me."

"Don't invite him, Miss."

"You hunk of dirt," Peters shouted, making steps toward a digging fork that leaned against a wall. "I'll gig you like a frog."

"See what I mean, Miss? Coarse and dangerous."

"Come on, Peters," Ophelia said, gesturing toward the house. "I'll be leaving tomorrow. Let's eat together and try to make peace. This is exactly what I feared would happen. This is what Mildred warned me about. Now, both of you, take a bath before dinner."

"Water's being rationed, Miss. I neglected to tell you."

"I already cut back on watering things," Peters added.

Red failed to disguise his delight. "So, I suppose Peters and I will have to be bathing in the same tub, in the same water.

"I suppose so," Ophelia said, lifting her dress for the slippery walk back to the house. "But I'm hoping dinner will be served before ten."

"Oh, it will, Miss."

When the time came to eat, Ophelia could only stomach a few bites of the swan's tough, oily breast. She washed them down with gulps of Jake. "Thanks for the effort, you two. My digestion isn't what it used to be."

"That's infuriating," Red snapped. "After all that work. I'd like to cut your throat with a dull knife."

"Calm down, Red Cane."

"See what I mean," Peters said, "He's just plain crazy."

Red puffed out his cheeks, wept weakly, and spat. "I'm so sorry, so ashamed of these uncontrollable urges. I'm going to hang myself."

"There's a good rope in the shed," Peters said. "I'll get it in the morning."

Ophelia had had enough. "This isn't the time for that kind of whining, or that kind of bickering. Now, you'll try to get along and look after things when I'm gone. Grandmother will be back sooner or later. So will I, probably, and Roe too."

"I love Peters," Red said, "despite all. We kissed a hundred times and mated again in the tub."

"For all I care, you can mate at will and forever. I'm going to bed."

Before sunup the next morning Ophelia's Q-ped rolled toward the estate's arched, brick entrance and was about to turn toward Pisstown proper, when she nearly collided with the postman, who said with a wolfish grin, "Whoa, slow down Ophelia girl. I've got brand new shifting orders for you. Ha, ha, ha!"

With her foot heavy on the brake, she read the orders:

SUBJECT: Order to Relocate

Dear Ms. Balls,

The Reverend requests your presence in the city of Bum Bay by 30-Nov. Report to the Templex there no later than six a.m. on that day. There you will serve in the capacity of an acolyte. Duties include but are not limited to attending to the needs of the Abbot. Additional instructions will be conveyed to you upon your arrival.

Your faithful servant,

Reverend Herman Hooker

The Abbot referred to was Dimitri Machnov, the Russian giant. Once the main attraction of many a road show and carnival, the giant had become a true believer in Hooker's teachings and had been appointed Abbot of the Reverend's Bum Bay Templex, the largest, grandest, most influential in the region.

Ophelia first set eyes on Machnov in the Temple's bath house as he floated from one side of the stagnant pool to the other in a loose-fitting pair of rubber nappies. One of his attendants stepped forward to greet Ophelia. "My name is unimportant and I'm to be your Guide. Isn't he a sight to behold? He weighs nine-o-six, his waist measures ninetythree inches and he stands eight-ten. We fear his death will be caused by a fatty degeneration of the heart, probably very soon. This is why we have resorted to bleeding him."

Another attendant waded into the pool with a bucket of leeches. "These little medical miracles come all the way from the Fertile Crescent." The attendant took leeches from the bucket and placed them at intervals over Machnov's massive body, even tucking a few beneath the nappies. The giant submitted to this with a contented smile.

Ophelia's Guide said, "What I must see are your shifting papers.

She surrendered the relocation order long enough for the Guide to gloss over it. "Welcome to the Templex. You'll have no name to weigh you down here. We're on a strict no-name basis. And, as a new acolyte, you're under a vow of silence. As a Guide, I'm allowed to speak, out of necessity. Say, haven't I heard of Mildred Balls?"

"My grandmother."

"And Jacob, the brewing magnate? The maker of Jake? Your grandfather?"

"Yes, but he squandered most of his inheritance on a dubious scheme to feed the starving millions in the Fertile Crescent. I have scarcely enough to keep the estate from falling down around me. If I'm away too long, it will collapse."

"Your order says nothing about length of stay. I can only presume it will be five years. There are quarters upstairs for acolytes. You'll be an acolyte until you're elevated to attendant, and then to Guide."

"And my duties will include?"

"Arrangements have been made for children to see Machnov tomorrow. At a reception in the refectory he will shake hands with any children who desire to meet him and fill their sacks with roasted nuts and nonpareils. He then will lead the children on a march to Hooker Park. Your duty on this occasion will be to periodically empty Master Machnov's reduction belt, which drains fatty and other secretions through a tube into a bag. You will walk behind him and carry the bag. When it is about three-fourths full, it will be disconnected and emptied into the gutter."

The Guide escorted Ophelia to her quarters, a four-byeight cubicle in a row of twelve others. A cot, a slop bucket, and a wooden stool were the only furnishings. A gel can and a box of matches sat on a small shelf affixed to the waferboard wall.

"It goes without saying that if you are heard addressing another attendant or acolyte, you will be punished with the basrinado."

"May I ask what that is, the bastinado?"

"We club your feet with cudgels until the bones are thoroughly broken and the inner tissue reduced to jelly. It means life on crutches. Around here idle talk is nothing to be trifled with. Another thing, when you are not actively assisting Machnov, you are expected to immerse yourself heart and mind in Hookerite studies. You'll find the library just off the Abbot's bathing pool, three doors into the east wing corridor. Expect, on a monthly basis, to be tested on your knowledge. Failure there means you'll be chauffeured Do you have any questions or concerns?"

"If I'm chauffeured, where will I be taken?"