The Hammer of God

66

S amuel stared down at the small black coffin in front of him, afraid, but not showing it. Sister Bravo and Father Sin tied his and his brothers’ hands in front of them, something he had anticipated, but still dreaded. It would make their escape more difficult.

“Ouch,” Samuel cried, wincing as Sister Bravo knotted the rope.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’ll loosen the rope a bit.”

“Thank you,” answered Samuel, smiling inside.

Sister Bravo instructed Father Sin to do the same with Eduardo and Felipe. Samuel eyed his brothers. They’re fools. We’re going to beat them.

He watched Eduardo and Felipe fight back smiles, and looked away so he wouldn’t laugh. Sister Bravo tore a strip of wide gray tape from a roll, placed it gently over Samuel’s mouth, tossed the roll to Father Sin, who taped the mouths of his brothers. Samuel squirmed, twisted, and mustered the saddest eyes he could.

“There’s nothing I can do about the tape,” said Sister Bravo, smiling.

“But relax, it won’t be there long.” Samuel looked away. Sister Bravo knelt. “Samuel, I hope we can be friends. I want to be a mother to you and your brothers, but you’ll have to let me in. I’ve waited a long time for this day. I hope we can put the past behind us.” You’re not my mother, and you’ll never be! Samuel forced a smile through the tape and nodded. Sister Bravo’s eyes watered, and she stood.

Samuel turned his head toward the front of the room, hatred throbbing in his head. His eyes fell on Cardinal Polletto, who turned and looked back at him. The longer their eyes stayed locked on each other, the hotter Samuel’s anger burned. He didn’t care who the cardinal said he was, or what his place in history would be, he’d kill them all the first chance he got. If not that day, then another, but he was going to make them pay for tearing his life apart.

In front of the coffins lay Father Tolbert, twisting back and forth like he was in pain. Bastard! You deserve to suffer. I hope I get to see you die. Samuel never told anyone all of the horrible things Father Tolbert had done to him. He told his friends, Paul and Carla, some things, like how Father Tolbert had fondled him, but kept the worst to himself.

Cardinal Polletto began to chant. Samuel recognized it as Latin, but had no idea what the cardinal was saying. All of the adults in the room pulled the hoods of their black robes over their heads. Two men approached Samuel, lifted him up and placed him in the coffin. Samuel caught one last glimpse of his brothers, who looked horrified. Stay strong. Don’t break. We can do this.

Inside, the coffin smelled like a fresh Christmas tree. Samuel relaxed. Rest, save your energy. He closed his eyes and tried to block out the sound of Cardinal Polletto’s grating tone. He focused on the task before them. Escape.

Samuel felt the coffin lift in the air and move forward. He opened his eyes, and stared up through the slits cut in the top of the box, barely able to make out the ceiling because of the dim light. He tested the rope tied around his wrists. It wasn’t tight, but firm. He pulled and twisted, careful not to knock around or shift his weight. He felt the rope loosen, not much, but enough to spur him on. He closed his eyes again, and told his brothers to do the same.

Samuel felt the coffin tip downward. We’re going a flight of stairs..

Soon, he saw the stars up through the slits, and smelled the dampness of the lake in the night air. His ears picked up murmuring, and he imagined that the stadium Cardinal Polletto showed them the day before was filled with more jerks like the ones he’d already met.

Bright beams from the stadium lights streamed down into the coffin.

The murmurs and buzzing grew louder, and he could tell from the sound of shoes clopping wood, that they were being carried across the stage.

Samuel closed his eyes again. This time he conjured up the layout around the castle in his mind, imagining their exact location as they moved along. A few minutes later, they stopped, and his coffin touched down softly on what he knew was the extended deck. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he heard the sound of children whimpering and crying.

“Tonight is a night of triumph,” Samuel heard Cardinal Polletto bellow. “A night we all will bear witness to history, a night when the world will be born anew.”

Samuel worked harder to loosen the rope, straining as hard as he could, sweat burning his eyes, the rope cutting into his skin. He gritted his teeth to keep from crying out. The blood seeping from small cuts around his wrists lubricated the rope, enabling him to pull free. Tears streamed down his face from the pain. He quickly rolled his head from one shoulder to the next, wiping his face dry. He retied his hands, but left them loose enough to break free when the time came.

“Curse you, curse every last one of you!” Samuel heard Father Tolbert scream. “Hell is waiting for all of you! I swear it!” Samuel heard more chanting. Words he didn’t understand. A few moments later, Father Tolbert let out a terrifying shriek.

“No, get away from me, no!” screamed Father Tolbert.