Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20A | 20B | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25-26 | 27 | 28-29 | 30 | 31
PART I
SPEAKING IN TONGUES
32
THREE WEEKS AFTER school let out, Marina caught Mother looking at her strangely at breakfast, but didn’t think much of it because she was busy trying not to throw up. “May I—” She could barely get the words out. “May I—” She bolted from the table to the bathroom, slammed the door, and fell on her knees in front of the toilet, spewing almost nothing into the toilet except bile.
“Marina,” came Mother’s voice through the door. “Marina, you open this door right now.”
Marina wasn’t miserable enough to miss the fact that Mother was furious. Why would she be furious with Marina for being sick? People were sick all the time. She heaved again.
The doorknob rattled, but Marina hadn’t had time to lock it so Mother came storming in. She locked it after slamming it behind her.
“Marina Leigh Scarritt, what did you do with that man?”
What man?
For the life of her, Marina didn’t know what a man—she could only assume she meant Trey—had to do with the fact that she had the flu. She couldn’t answer because she was heaving again.
“When you’re finished, you stand up and take your robe off.”
Oh, now she had a headache to go with her nausea, and on top of that, all sorts of alarms were sounding in her head.
Finally her nausea settled and she arose slowly from where she sat slumped against the bathtub. She didn’t want to look at Mother. She was too tired, too bone-weary from her heaves, too confused, too … downtrodden.
Trey hadn’t called on her in three weeks. Now here was Mother, demanding she take her clothes off for her.
So she did. Reluctantly.
Mother pointed at her. “Do you see that?” she barked.
Marina looked down. “Do I see what?” she repeated stupidly.
“Your belly.”
She looked. She didn’t see anything. A rash?
“It’s getting tighter.”
“I’m sorry, Mother. I have been hungrier lately, it’s true, but I’ll try to control myself more … ”
“Why did I allow myself to think you could control yourself at all?”
Marina, her mind in a fog and her body in a snit, could only stare. “Mother, I’ve been hungry.”
“You’ve been hungry because you didn’t control yourself with that man. So he did get what he wanted and left immediately thereafter!”
“I don’t understand … ”
“Were you or were you not at the Muehlebach Hotel with Trey some weeks ago?”
Marina gaped at her. “I … ”
“Mrs. Dial told me she and Mr. Dial saw you and Trey in the lobby heading toward the elevators, holding hands. I told her she must have been mistaken, but she wasn’t, was she?”
“No! I mean, yes! She is mistaken. I don’t understand! What are you saying?”
“You are in the family way.”
Mother had gone mad. “I can’t be! I’m not married. You can’t be in the family way if you’re not married.”
Mother’s mouth tightened and she looked away. “No,” she murmured low. “No, you certainly can’t.”
With that, she turned, yanked open the door, and slammed it behind her.
Marina had barely gotten herself put back together and was making her bed when Mother stormed her room, threw two empty suitcases on it, and began throwing her clothes in them. Father appeared and leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest.
“What are you—?”
“Marina,” Mother said with furious calm. “We cannot have you in the house. Or anywhere near the church.”
Marina’s jaw dropped on the floor. “But why? What have I done?”
“You know what you did, young lady,” Mother snarled. “Or, should I say, young tramp!”
Tramp?!
Marina felt like she’d been stabbed in the chest.
Mother whirled and screamed at Father, “This is your fault! I told you not to let her walk out with him alone!”
Father examined his fingernails. “I could’ve married her off a month ago, big church wedding, all your friends impressed with your good fortune, but you got greedy and didn’t want to let her go at all, so she’s your problem now.”
“She wouldn’t have had time to tend me and a family!”
“And now you’ll have to do all the cooking and cleaning yourself. No more pretty clothes, either. At least, not for the next nine months. If you will excuse me, I have a meeting of deacons to head up. Marina had better be gone before I get home.”
“Father!” Marina wailed, heartbroken.
“I gave you a chance, Marina,” he told her matter-of-factly. “I’ll admit, I didn’t see that coming, but I should’ve, I suppose, which means Mother was right. He disappeared three weeks ago, so I will assume he had some ulterior motive, although I’ll never believe sex was it. He had to have another reason, because you look just like your father and he was ugly as a rotten scarecrow. I honestly never understood what a grown man that attractive with money would want with you enough to—” He glanced her over and grimaced a little. “I still don’t.”
Then he was gone.
“Mother!” Marina wailed. “What—”
“You are not our daughter,” she snarled, raising something that looked like a snake. Marina screamed when something sharp tore the skin of her calf.
“Mother!” she sobbed, cowering away from the belt that continued to whistle through the air and connect with her body.
“You are just like your mother!” she screamed. “Filthy sluts, the both of you!”
Slap, went the belt. Now it was the buckle. Marina curled up in a corner, trying to protect her head and front.
“Stand up and turn around, you filthy Jezebel!” Slap. “I’ll beat that baby out of you if I have to!” Slap. “I took you in!” Slap. “I raised you!” Slap. “You owe me! Stand up!”
Marina tried. She really did, but she slipped on the floor she kept polished to a bright shine, falling under the weight of the belt, sobbing in terror and confusion more than the pain. “Mo-mo-moth-mother p-p-pl-please!”
“STAND UP!”
Marina couldn’t. Her legs were too weak. The floor was too slick. The nightgown was too tangled around her legs. She could only curl up and protect herself—
She gasped when her hair was yanked from her head and she was dragged to her feet. She squirmed to get the hand out of her hair, bending, twisting, slipping and falling again.
But the hand held on and pulled her back up, tossing her on her bed like a rag doll and exposing her belly.
WHAP! went the belt on her midsection. Marina was exhausted, but not quite frozen. At the second strike of the belt she twisted over on her side and clawed the edge of the mattress to get away.
“You—” WHAP. “—and your mother—” WHAP. “—just like—” WHAP. “—that bastard—” WHAP. “—I married!” WHAP.
The words barely registered, the belt catching Marina about her exposed head, but every time she had a grip on the mattress, Mother’s hand wrapped around her ankle and pulled her back.
“I took you in!” she screamed. WHAP. “I gave you everything you could want!” WHAP. “I gave you freedom I never gave your mother!” WHAP. “I hid you from men!” WHAP. “And what did you do with it?” WHAP.
Marina couldn’t think with Mother over her with that belt. She had nowhere to go. If she could roll off the bed …
She dropped onto the floor between the bed and the wall, but instead of landing on her feet, she landed on her hip. “Mo—mo—mother!” she wailed, holding her arm over her head, trying to crawl backward, but there was just wall on one side and bed on the other. She tried to stand again, but slid and landed on her stomach, flinching every time the belt came down on her back, her ears ringing from Mother’s screeches.
“STAND UP!”
She turned her head to avoid being hit by the buckle and saw the other side of the room under the bed. She wished she hadn’t kept the floors so nicely polished and waxed because it was really too slippery to … Now she had a way and she tucked her head under the bed frame to protect it while Mother rained strikes and curses down upon her.
Marina felt the wall with her foot, found purchase, and shoved herself under the bed.
Mother screamed in rage and frustration, but Marina curled up under the bed against the wall where Mother couldn’t reach her without getting on the floor and grabbing her. She certainly couldn’t wallop her again.
She lay on her side with her legs up to her chest, her arms wrapped around them, sobbing as Mother began tearing Marina’s room apart. Glass crashed. Paper tore. Books dropped off the shelves and thumped the walls. Marina simply lay on her side and cried softly, completely unable to think or move any more. She didn’t know what to do.
Father wanted her to be gone by sundown.
Marina wanted to be gone right now, but she was barefoot, in her nightgown. She had nowhere to go. She was powerless and terrified.
She could stay until Mother calmed down and then perhaps she could be reasoned with enough to get out of the house with some clothes and money, but Mother had never raised her voice to Marina at all, so she didn’t know if that would work.
Marina melted in despair and could do nothing except wait and try to catch her breath. She couldn’t move because her body hurt too badly. She couldn’t stop crying. There was something very deep inside her that was crying for someone to come rescue her, but she had no one.
I don’t need a preacher to help me speak to God.
Marina didn’t feel like she could talk to God. She was so small. So stupid. So ugly. So insignificant. She didn’t have any right to talk to God.
No Dot.
No Trey.
No Bishop or Sister Albright.
Father wanted her out.
Mother was going to kill her before she ever got her on a train to … somewhere … and Marina was covered in blood to prove it.
No one was going to rescue her.
She couldn’t get out by herself.
God was her last resort.
She took a trembling breath and whispered, “Please help me.”
32
If you don’t want to wait 2 years to get to the end, you can buy it here.
Wait a second. Marina’s dad thinks his wife is a filthy slut?
Or is Marina not their biological child?
Marina is her grandchild.
Ah I had figured she was the fruit of one of the Rev’s peccadilloes.
Yeah, that’s what I got out of it.
Yikes. Wonder where mom is.
Mom got beat up and run off too?
Whoah. 😲
Now, how exactly does this disgrace Scarritt that he gets run out of his own congregation – if she just goes away?
It’s in God’s hands now. 😉
And we do know the Lord works in mysterious ways.
The twists and turns. Never saw that part coming.
As a grand parent it would be impossible to treat a grand child physically like that or emotionally either for that matter.
Off Marina goes, to the Home for Wayward Girls. Thanks, Moj.
Trey had better ride in on his white horse and rescue this damsel in distress, after he collects his bet, though. I’m worried about the pregnancy, could cost Trey the bet is those belt buckle blows did anything. Now to wait another week. Damn it.
You know it’ll be worth it.
You mean we aren’t going to get a “To read the rest, buy the book at…”?
Ummmmmmm … I kinda sorta forget to say that. Also, it’s in the post, at the bottom.
Don’t be ashamed to engage in shameless self-promotion.
I bought the book anyway but it’s more fun reading it this way.
Thanks!
It does give it a certain flavor that just reading the entire thing straight through does not. I hadn’t noticed before I started putting these up a chapter at a time.
Wow.
Kids will make you angry, but wow.
Pretty intense.
Marina didn’t feel like she could talk to God. She was so small. So stupid. So ugly. So insignificant. She didn’t have any right to talk to God
God’s going to fuck her with His turgid manhood.
I think I need to get off Twitter. I love it so much it’s killing me.
Moj this book you’re writing, can I buy it in book form?
Yes, right here.
I too love Twitter.
wELL THAT compromises all the rest of my jokes
I guess from now on it’s just literary criticism.
I’ve had a weird couple weeks I guess I’ll relate, I’ve been reading Douglas Adams’ Dirk Gently novels, and there are bizarre references because he’s English and also really really bizarre that I just don’t get, like Tsuliwaënsis.
What is the matter with you people.
Short attention spans.
does what now
Huh?
Yeah, everyone’s REAL happy THEN
Why shouldn’t they be? Ungrateful bastards.
TARGET TWO IS REENGAGING
tHAT WAS A Simpsons reference…
I’ve already ordered like five of your novels
I’ll hand them out to my best friends.
Awww, thank you!!!
one of them will be my mom, Moj don’t you recall??
Christ, I ha
I don’t recall what I had for breakfast this morning or my children’s names most days. My memory can’t be relied upon for anydamnthing.
CHRIST that’s why I love you.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6W0oP-KXIOQ
Mother and father certainly have an interesting dynamic[/dysfunction].
Finally her nausea settled and she arose slowly
Oh I think I’ll be ill. Ew. Altogether ew.
Did you read James Clavell? I ask her
And she say No
and I rot in the little prison cell I’ve built myself, wondering, has she read James Clavell? And she’ll never have
Nothing like listening to your child tell you about her missing expedited freight, freight with no bills of lading and clueless billing offices, and the way some customers pack their trailers.
I know why that freight went missing. A fairy godmother needed it for her current client and it went POOF off the trailer. Just like that.
Shift happens.
Wes Anderson is in need of requiting your shipping needs.
Message to Hype delivered.
And I always love the inside work stories. Too many people think no one would care, but I did consulting long enough to get to the point of enjoying learning the ins and outs of other businesses.
In the south Bronx it was incredible how much stuff fell off the back of the truck.
That escalated quickly.
You know what escalates quickly? My cock when it sees a First.
Some interesting articles today
https://www.nationalreview.com/news/wagner-chief-to-pull-mercenaries-out-of-bakhmut-over-ammunition-dispute-with-russian-military/ (assume it’s not paywalled since it’s news and not commentary)
———————–
From Charlie Cooke https://www.nationalreview.com/2023/05/florida-republicans-cant-stop-winning/
I’m impressed with their current crew. All the writing is good. Even when I disagree, they make me think. The one arguable exception is Madeline Kearns who often argues from religious principles.
We’re leading into the “big Ukrainian counterattack “
Everything from the front is going to be disinformation right now. I’d be suspicious, particularly of news that would alter potential plans.
Check out The Duran on YouTube for more information on this, the main guy is a good analyst and he goes into that in a fair amount of depth. Wagner’s head did in fact post a video hurling accusations but they attribute it to both immense pressure on this guy who doesn’t have a military background, a desire to hedge and take the glory if they win and displace blame if they ultimately lose, and laying the battlespace for a future political career.
the flame of anor’
I am the servent of the secret fire
the flame of anur SHALL NOT AVAIL YOU
YOU CANNOT PASS
How would you know? You’ve never seen me in a dress.
lemme peek that vag bud
Buy me dinner first.
Fuckin TEASE
LOL
Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.
https://www.nationalreview.com/news/cdc-director-rochelle-walensky-steps-down/
Gandalf rides out against the Nazgul in case you need to know
Featuring the song of Eru Iluvatar.
If you needed to know. It should be obvious.
Gimli surpasses Faenor
You can hear Eru here too, a brief intercession in the affairs of man.
WTF did you change your label Tanqueray??
Good morning, Glibs.
A song for today’s festivities: https://youtu.be/e8PSeQNlpBQ
I’ll catch the highlights later.
Ps – Moj, that was a harrowing read. You have a flare for violence. I finally listened to your interview on Tom Woods. You came across very well and probably more so than many, you present as an effective ambassador for the first principles.
I went to turn on Aussie football and noticed the Brits are up to something lengthy on NBC.
I’ll wait for the soundtrack. I liked the marches from the last two but I guess Walton isn’t around to write another one.
I’m more of a Sousa man myself.
So… How’s Chuckie doing? Is he all “Vivat Rex’d” now? Did his heir present him with the head of the dutchess of Sussex as a coronation gift?
I am kind of kicking myself for not casting the horoscope for that place and time. It’s so rare we get to use the SCIENCE! of astrology appropriately.
“I didn’t vote for ya.”
The dude is having Lionel Ritchie perform at his big shin-dig. Caligula he ain’t.
That after-party is gonna be lit.
Caligula would be doing blow and buggering the palace staff and half the guests at his hootenanny. Charles is way, way too old for that.
I don’t know. I will just imagine that there was a fantastic ceremony in a big cloud city and the Nimbusian Guards were flanking the great procession into the Stratothedral on their flying giraffalos and rhinocerpotami. Charles received the Orb of Wonderment and now he can use it to form great structures out of lightning like battlements and trebuchets which will be used to vanquish his enemies like climate heretics, catholics, and the Duchess of Sussex.
Link for the lazy: https://www.cbsnews.com/philadelphia/live-updates/coronation-live-coverage-king-charles-iii-camilla-ceremony-2023-latest/
Morning.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=qE-gdNIL8WI
🎵🎵
Sparkly shirts. Nice.
Catchy.
Mornin’ all
🌞☕
Afternoon, tardypants.
suh’ fam
whats goody yo
Good news for you: https://www.nbcnews.com/business/business-news/jenny-craig-shutting-down-employee-layoffs-details-rcna82603