The Butterfly and the Flame - Chapter 1

Printer-friendly version

the-butterfly-and-flame.jpg

"There's something you need to know about Emily..."

In the year 2404, America is no more. In a land ruled by the oppressive theocracy known as the Dominion of Divinity, being gay is a capital offense, adultery is punished with the lash, women are forbidden to work, and forced marriages are common.

Fifteen-year-old Emily La Rouche faces an impossible choice. On her sixteenth birthday, she will be forced to marry Jonathan Marsh, the son of her landlord. If she refuses, her family will lose everything. If she takes his hand, it is certain that her life will end by a hangman's noose in front of an angry mob. All because Emily has been hiding an enormous secret for years-she was born a boy. As the wedding approaches, Emily's parents realize the only way that she will be safe is if she is to escape the Dominion.

With her brother Aaron at her side, Emily flees across post-apocalyptic America in search for a new home. With vile bounty hunters on her trail, only time will tell if Emily will ever find a place where she can live and breathe free as the person she was always meant to be.

Chapter I

April 4

Ma once told me that God watches over everyone. I wish I could still believe that. But with the arrival of the New Year, I am becoming acutely aware that I’m on my own.

It’s only four weeks until my sixteenth birthday and my wedding day. I am so frustrated with this whole arrangement, because even though I am the bride-to-be, I have no say in this marriage. I never chose to marry Jonathan Marsh. We don’t even like each other. Yet his father foolishly forced this engagement on us when we were only children. It was when he took our family’s land.

I fear for my safety–so much so that I am having trouble sleeping at night. The nightmares of my married life haunt my exhausted mind. Ma and Pa keep reassuring me that everything will work out fine and that this wedding will be canceled, but I don’t believe that anymore. All these years they have been promising that this day would never come, and yet here we are, only twenty-eight days away from it.

With so little time left, it seems like such a waste of an afternoon to spend it in church. But our routine isn’t going to change on my account. Ma is so stubborn that she’s not only making us go to the New Year services, but she is also making us adhere to the traditional fast that comes with it. My God, I am starving! I haven’t eaten since supper last night, and I would do almost anything for a little bread. I realize our ancestors didn’t have a lot of food during Divine Retribution, but it’s absurd to insist that we should fast, especially when we already live on the brink of starvation. I know Ma is trying to be a good Christian, but I really don’t believe that eating a few vegetables or scraps of meat will land us in hell.

Out of all the church services in a year, Divine Retribution has to be the hardest to get through. Today, while people celebrate the birth of the Dominion, all I can do is mourn. I mourn for the death of America–and for the death of freedom, and a place where I couldn’t be bought and sold like an animal, and a place I could be safe.

If God is watching over me, he’s the only one who can save me from the future.

A knock came at the door, and Emily La Rouche looked up from her diary. “Are you almost ready?” her mother called.
Emily set her pen on the nightstand next to her. “Just about,” she called back. She set her diary aside and reached down for her necklace. Her necklace was an old American quarter dollar that she had been lucky enough to find when she was a child. Her father had punctured it and threaded it with a length of twine in order to keep her older brother, Aaron, from taking it. She lifted her auburn hair and tied the necklace around her neck. Emily got up from her bed. She pressed down the sides of her long, slate-gray dress and joined her family in the eating room.

Within twenty minutes, the family was ready to go, and they all made their way to the horse-drawn wagon that waited outside. Her parents took their usual places at the front. Aaron hopped on the back and extended his hand to help her up. As soon as she was seated, he lapsed into an irritated silence.

It was the first time that Aaron was returning to Seaton since he had received ten lashes in the town square for the crime of adultery. As they drew nearer to town, Emily could sense his anger rising. She couldn’t understand why her mother was making them go to church today. She wanted to curse the weather. Had it been raining, the roads would’ve been too muddy to traverse, and they would’ve had to stay home.

Emily let the thought go as they reached the sprawling tenements of the only city she had ever truly known. The poor quarters of the city of Seaton stretched for almost two miles around the center of town, where the cathedral stood. Every time she passed through the tenements, she couldn’t help wondering if life was like this everywhere. Did everybody live in rotten houses of decaying wood and tin that reeked of human waste? Were there always hoards of barefoot children who went to bed each night with empty stomachs?

As if to answer her question, a man-sized poster caught her eye. It featured a stout, well-fed young man, smiling, with a caption that boasted: “Three square meals a day, guaranteed! Join the army of God.”

She placed her hands on her abdomen as her stomach growled. There was no way to escape hunger’s clutches; it had pervaded throughout her life, and it was the sole reason that David Marsh had been able to take over her family’s land and force her to marry his son.

But, unlike the people of the tenements, her family had a safety net to catch them in times of absolute desperation. She might be hungry, but she’d never starve. She might get sick, but there would be medicine; she might be in need, but she’d at least have clothes. David Marsh would always provide the basic minimum necessities–just as long as she made it to the altar.

The dirt roads gave way to brick-lined streets, and the slums of the outer city were replaced by the manors and mansions of Seaton’s elite. At last the cathedral came into view. The building was adorned with dozens of flags that symbolized the Dominion. The flags, white banners bearing a dominating golden cross over the smaller, blood-red continents of man, fluttered majestically in the morning breeze.

Even though they were early for the morning services, there were crowds of people gathered around the entrance of the cathedral. Aside from Christmas and Easter, the New Year celebration of Divine Retribution was the most-attended service of the year. At this time the cathedral would be filled with people who rarely attended services.

Emily left her family to go and secure the horses, and then she made her way to the crowded cathedral. Her mother had charged her with finding them a seat. Given how crowded it was today, that could be a difficult task. Last year she had had to sit by a complete stranger, because they had arrived late and there hadn’t been enough space to sit together as a family.

The crowd gathered in front of the cathedral did not thin out as she walked inside. There were fifty rows of two pews on each side of the nave, but it seemed that the only space that wasn’t occupied was the narrow aisle she was standing in. Emily frowned and scanned the nave once more. It was there she found a space, on the left side, five rows up, that would be just large enough for her family to squeeze into.

Emily claimed the space, which her family filled a few minutes later. When everyone had been seated, Emily felt an awkward silence creep around her. She glanced at the man in front of her, who made a point to look away as she made eye contact. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the man next to her staring at her brother. Emily glanced at Aaron, who cast a fierce scowl at the man until he looked away. She tensed up; she was surrounded by the very people who had cheered during her brother’s lashing. Coming to church today had been such an awful idea, and she longed for the service to begin, so it would block out the sea of gossip that flowed around her.

“All rise for the coming of the Lord!” boomed the aging voice of Bishop Joseph Aldridge.

A melodic tune echoed from the pipe organ, and the entire congregation stood at attention and faced the narthex. The acolyte, a boy who was no more that twelve, carried the scepter bearing the golden cross down the aisle. Behind him followed Bishop Aldridge, Cardinal Nathanial Stanton, and Pastor Raymond Gertz. The entire congregation gradually turned as the procession made its way to the altar. The music reached its climax as the acolyte gave a slight bow and handed the scepter to the bishop.

“My children, may God be with you on this New Year’s day. It is only good and right that we affirm our faith and allegiance to God and His holy kingdom. Please join with me in reciting the Oath of Affirmation …”

Emily mouthed the meaningless words as she impatiently waited to take her seat.

After Bishop Aldridge had seated the congregation, he and the cardinal took their seats in the throne-like plush chairs that flanked the altar.

Pastor Gertz approached the pulpit.

“My children, God be with you on this day as we celebrate the anniversary of Divine Retribution. Today is a day for celebration, for three hundred and forty-five years ago, on a spring morning much like this one, Almighty God cleansed a sinful world with fire, so that a new era of righteousness and purity would reign for a thousand years. As told in the Holy Book of Revelations, God unleashed the Four Horsemen upon the Earth to punish the generations for their sins, and on that day four mighty asteroids, as big as mountains, fell from the heavens and brought to the nations war, conquest, famine, and death.”

Pastor Gertz rested his hands on the pulpit in front of him. He paused to let the words take effect. “Our Almighty God wiped away the world’s decadent democracies, which continually polluted so much sin into his beautiful world. I need not remind you what this place was like before Divine Retribution. America was a land of sinful, vengeful people. It was a land consumed with technological idolatry, greed, and pleasures of the flesh. It was a truly ravenous society.”

“But I tell you, brothers and sisters, God had a plan for these people, a plan that was as old as history itself. God gave fair warning to the wicked people of America. He warned them in the holy book of Revelation. But yet they ignored. He even sent His Holiness, the founder of our church and our country, Pastor Elijah Kane. But his warnings were shunned. All the signs of the coming of the end were there, but the people went on living their wicked lives. But when the holy day of Divine Retribution came, they were consumed with sin, death, and everlasting damnation.”

“For over two years a cloud of ash blotted out the sun, and as the old world passed away, a new kingdom was born to take its place. In the city we now call Divinity, Pastor Kane and his flock, our ancestors, were safely sequestered away from the dying world.”
“Indeed, the hardships our ancestors faced continued after the sun returned. Resources were scarce. Much had been destroyed in the fires of Divine Retribution, but most of it had been wasted needlessly by the Americans. But, by the sweat of their brows and by the grace of God, they survived and thrived and have forged this kingdom, the Dominion of Divinity, to rule on this Earth until the great day of final judgment.”

Emily bit her lip and detached herself from Gertz’s sermon. She grabbed her necklace and spun the coin on the rope until it no longer held her interest. She looked up at the masses in front of her. It never failed to amaze her what a difference only a few pews could make. The wealthy landowners and church patriarchs were sitting up front in their best attire. The men were dressed in their pressed cotton suits and had stuffy brimmed hats, while their wives and daughters had donned elegant white-and-blue satin gowns that were bustled tightly to show off their feminine forms. But in a matter of a few feet the styles and clothing changed abruptly. Here, further back, most people dressed in clothes that were ragged from everyday wear. They were dusty and dirty, and there lingered the smell of sweat and grime that enveloped the laborers’ existence.

Emily examined each parishioner closely, playing a game she had taught herself to occupy the long New Year services. The game was quite simple. She would look at each parishioner closely to see whether or not they were observing the fast. It was usually pretty easy to tell. Those who did were tired and had trouble concentrating on the sermon. Instead, they closed their eyes and tried to drown out the hunger built up within their bellies. Those who ate breakfast looked alert and energetic and had no problem concentrating on the pastor’s message. She looked across the sea of faces toward the chancel, where Cardinal Stanton and Bishop Aldridge sat. Both men were sturdy, and they looked over their flock with somber and steadfast gazes. Clearly, they both had had breakfast fit for a king.

Emily looked at her family. Her mother, who clung to tradition and stubbornly did not make breakfast, somehow managed to find the strength and resolve to stay focused on the sermon. How she did remained a mystery to Emily. It was the same sermon year after year–powerful the first time you heard it, but after the fifth time she could practically preach it herself.
Her father, by contrast, looked as if he were about to collapse. He had dark circles around his swollen, bloodshot eyes, and he rubbed his face endlessly in an effort to stay awake. He looked far weaker than a man should halfway through a twenty-four hour fast. His face bore the expression of a man who was in desperate need of sleep but had the misfortune to be trapped within a mind that would not shut off.

Her brother still looked fiercely annoyed. She thought he was just upset at having to come back to church so soon after being whipped in the town square–not that she blamed him. If it had been her, she would never have come back. Aaron, however, was staring at something toward the front of the church. She followed his glaze to a brunette woman in a white gown, sitting along the aisle near the front of the nave. It was Elizabeth Mason–Aaron’s lost love.

If things had been different Aaron and Elizabeth would have been married by now. He had braved the fierce January cold to come into Seaton to propose to her, only to discover that a man named Alexander Rothchild was using her family and had arranged for Elizabeth to be his wife.

After the wedding, Rothchild had had Aaron arrested for stealing Elizabeth’s chastity, and he used his influence over the courts to have Aaron whipped in the town square.

Emily tensed up as she thought about her brother. Whenever she thought of him being whipped in the town square, it was a reminder of what could happen to her if she didn’t marry Jonathan. Arranged marriages were fairly common throughout the Dominion, but that fact offered her no peace of mind or reassurance whatsoever.

It was absurd the way the elite could just choose who they wanted their children to marry. Seaton’s wealthy families rarely intermarried because of the acrid competition between them, and all too often, their spoiled sons would use their wealth to cherry-pick their spouses from the community. Many times they would base their decisions on nothing more than a girl’s physical beauty, but every so often they would steal their brides from the arms of their true loves for nothing more than an act of retribution. It had happened to Elizabeth.

In her case, Emily had so often wondered why David had cherry-picked her to be his son’s bride. After nine years of living under this marriage arrangement, she had never found an answer. Her mother had one explanation. She believed it was because David’s wife, Andrea, had never had any other children besides Jonathan and coveted Emily so much that she sought to make her her own daughter. Emily didn’t necessarily believe that, but it was an idea that she could never fully dismiss.
When the service concluded, Emily and her family made their way back to their wagon, but they were detained by the polite musings of their landlord, David Marsh.

“Happy New Year to you, James, Julia,” David said to her parents. “James, I hope you don’t mind, but there are a number of things we need to discuss.”

David pulled her father aside to discuss matters of the farm and other business in private.

While Emily waited impatiently for her father, she noticed that Jonathan was making his way toward her. She shivered at the prospect of having to talk to him. Every memory she had of him was unpleasant. When they were children, he was the boy who’d pulled her hair or tried to look up her dress, or find something to say that would make her cry. He hadn’t changed much since then, except that he was now talking about either sex or how rich he was going to be.

“Afternoon, Emily,” Jonathan said. “You know, after we’re married, I’ll throw us the biggest dinner reception you’ve ever seen, and you’ll have the biggest feast you’ve ever eaten.”

She didn’t reply but instead glared into the distant horizon in the opposite direction and waited for him to leave.

“And you won’t have to sleep in that shack you live in now. You’ll have warm rooms with comfortable furniture and a big bed to sleep in … with me,” Jonathan flashed a sly smile.

Emily, mortified with the thought, turned around and shot him a gaze filled with abject disgust and loathing.

“You know, I happen to like where I live now–because you’re not there,” Emily said. She promptly turned and walked away.

Her father had concluded his discussion with Marsh and was making his way back, when David interrupted him again.

“Oh, James, why don’t you bring your family out to our house next Sunday for a little pre-wedding celebration?” David called out.

“And, Emily, we need to find a time so you can be fitted for your wedding dress,” Andrea said.

“Looking forward to it,” Emily said. And she was, too, even though she hoped to God that she would find some way out of the wedding. But the dress-fitting would give her a chance to wear something other than the same old tattered clothes she’d always worn.

“Okay, we’ll be there. What time?” James asked.

“Be there about five thirty. We’ll make an evening of it. I’ll hire a photographer friend of mine to take some good pictures,” David replied.

“We’ll be there,” her father said.

Silence washed over the family as they made their way back to the wagon. Emily looked at her father, who looked as if he had a fresh burden loaded on his shoulders. She couldn’t help but feel that she was the reason.

Read the first five chapters here:
http://www.dana-deyoung.com/Five%20Chapters.pdf

Or purchase the full novel through Amazon.com
http://www.amazon.com/Butterfly-Flame-Dana-Young/dp/14502887...

up
40 users have voted.
If you liked this post, you can leave a comment and/or a kudos! Click the "Thumbs Up!" button above to leave a Kudos

Comments

WOW!

"Dana," it's thrilling to see your story here. Your long work has really paid off - this is very good. Please keep it coming. Rianna

Wow Is Right

terrynaut's picture

This is quite the tale. I can't understand how Emily could very be raised as a t-girl in that society but I'd like to read more to find out how it happened.

I can't click the kudos button for some reason. I'll come back and try again later.

So thanks and hopefully kudos.

- Terry