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A horse drawing a carriage clopped briskly down an unmaintained dirt lane. Deep gouges drew the wheels toward the sides of the road. Leah held her infant son Matthew in her arms, making a pocket of peace for him to sleep amidst all the shaking and clattering. Her mother sat silently to her left. To her right, her father Darren yanked at the reins.
"Come on you," he shouted. "Pull us out of this rut."
The horse reared and chomped at her bit and strained to pull the cart laterally onto level ground. Finally, with a jolt, they were free of the rut. There was a crash as the PC tower case that was jammed awkwardly into the back storage space fell over.
Leah looked back. The computer had fallen off its blanket and was now jumping up and crashing down on wood with each bump in the road.
"Is… is that ok?" She asked.
"I do not care," Darren said.
"But Mary always talked about how fragile her computer was and treated it with such care."
"Then she should be here to take care of it," he snapped.
"Mother," Leah pleaded. "If we break her computer I don't know if… if Mary will ever come back."
"It is because of this that she is gone, Leah," her mother said with disgust. "She has been… drawn into it. Pastor Meshach says…"
"Meshach," Leah countered, "Doesn't under…"
"Pastor," her father shouted her down. "Pastor Meshach is saving us from this machine and all the modernity that has been creeping in and poisoning us for decades. You've never known, Leah, but when I was your age we lived the true life. We did not have computers or even electricity. We worked hard and drew all we needed from the Earth. When we succeed we rejoiced. When we fell short, we suffered. You know nothing of life."
He reached over and put his hand on Matthew's sleeping face.
"But Matthew will know it. Oh, he will know hard work and suffering. He will grow, grow strong from it and, one day, lead the whole congregation." His eyes lit up. "Pastor Meshach said just last Sunday that when when he looked at this boy he saw his own eyes. Can you believe that, wife?"
"The angels are around this one," she said touching his sleeping chin with a bent finger.
"Indeed," he said. "We've lost one generation to modern ways," he said darkly, looking at his daughter. "But the broken bough sprouts new life in the next spring. If left on the bough, it will die. But that new growth can be spliced to a healthy trunk and thrive."
They drove to the church in silence. All eyes were forward except for Matthew's. He was awake now and his pupils were dancing along the bottom of the treetops passing by.
The cart rattled in past the old gates and parked on the lawn next to the converted-barn church.
Most people still showed up in old, rusted out cars.
"Going back to the old ways is going to be hard for many of these people," Darren said hitching the horse. "But they will. Pastor Meshach will see to it. He will also see us hewing to the word quickly and be proud."
He walked around back and snatched up the computer by its power cord. The tower case swung and then fell into the mud as the cord pulled out.
He grunted and tucked it up under his arm.
It was the regular crowd for early morning prayers. Solemn, steely-eyed locals dressed in their best, often not much, shuffling through the dewey grass of dawn. This morning was an odd sight, however, as many of them carried laptops or even complete desktop computers. A couple of families had stereos with them.
One man lurched slowly forward off-balanced, clutching his microwave.
Pastor Meshach stood by the door resplendent in his ceremonial robe, cut from shimmering black fabric and lined with sparkling red ribbon. He held his hands out touching the sleeves of those who passed. He frowned when Leah and her family reached the steps.
"Where is Mary? Where is her computer?"
"Pastor," Darren stammered. "My daughter is… disobedient."
"Another disobedient daughter?" Meshach said raising an eyebrow sharply and looking at Leah.
"It seems," he replied, maintaining a thin mask of composure over his shame, "that obedience skips generations in our family. Mary has decided to hide this morning."
"I fear for her."
"As do I."
"And I'm beginning to fear for your household, brother Darren. Where but one strays the devil may not stay. Where two look away the devil may lay.
"Anyway, you have brought the machine. Good. Bring it to the table before the alter and take your place in the pews. You are the last family to arrive today. We will begin as soon as you are ready."
Darren was livid.
Later there will be rage, Leah said quietly and sweetly to quell Matthew's fussing.
They took their seats in the front pew, left side. As Pastor Meshach led the opening incantations, a small, skinny man with frazzled hair futzed at the computer table. He was plugging them in, setting up monitors, keyboards and mice and turning them on.
Leah sat for what seemed like forever. Fortunately Matthew lay content grasping his toes with only the occasional screech.
Pastor Meshach held the congregation silent and still until the odd monk gave him a thumbs up.
"Today is a monumental day in our journey back to the old ways," Pastor Meshach said at last. "The time has come for us to break the grips that the modern world has upon us! To close the channels that the devil himself has extended through these machines! Today we will stop the streams forevermore!
"We are blessed to have Cleric Jokim here with us. He has traveled widely in The Lord's Kingdom withdrawing the profiles of the righteous. He has closed countless channels, dammed countless streams.
"Now he has come to do so here.
"Now, he is standing before one of these vehicles of evil. Who's is this?"
A woman stood up near the back.
"That is my son's, Pastor. He is here!"
"Send up your son and we will begin right away. Now everyone, this may not be comfortable to watch. Just as one's blood may rush out when an arrow is pulled from flesh, much poison may spill when the profiles of web are ripped from soul."
The boy was sixteen, Leah's age. She had many fond memories of him playing and praying. Now his face was taught and pale.
"Do not fear, my son. And all of you do not look away! We need all eyes on him if our blessings are to heal his wounds."
The young man sat down in front of his computer as the room fell silent. He looked over to the oddly shaped cleric hovering over his shoulder. Jokim gestured to the screen.
"You may have heard," the Pastor resumed as the young man typed something, "that the devil comes in the form of lies, lust and lethargy. He does indeed, but those things aren't at the core of the channels we are closing today. No, what you have just witnessed was this boy logging into the computer. Logging into an account that he created.
"Who among us can stand before the Lord and tell Him that His creation is not enough? Who among us dares to create of ourselves beyond what The Lord has bestowed?
"Who dares to register?"
Murmurs rose from the pews.
"I… I didn't know…" Leah herd one woman behind her say. "I bought him the computer. I… I put it in his room!"
"Say then with me now," Pastor Meshach boomed, his hands in the air and his cape spread wide behind him. "We shall not log in. We shall not register."
The entire congregation repeated as one, "We shall not log in. We shall not register."
"This, my friends, is at the heart of the devil's assault on us all. He has fooled us into creating logins, accounts, users, personas, call them what you will. He tricks us into creating these things that are not our Godly selves then acting through them to do evil. Satan pulls us through these things from God to Him. So you see, it is not the computer that is the channel, there are many channels through the computer. The channels are in the computers. They are of a web that seeks to ensnare us all."
Another murmur of "in the computers" spread across the crowd.
Mary saw brother Jokim look up at the crowd with a peculiar expression.
"But do not fear! Wherever in that digital domain the devil has touched, Jokim will find it. No matter how many times the web has wrapped around you, Jokim shall cut you free. Lo, no matter how deeply you have logged into these channels, he will pull you back to righteousness.
"Let us affirm together as the good cleric performs the first cleansing."
Meshach raised his arms and began a chant.
"We shall not log in. We shall not register. We shall not…"
The drone rose from the congregation. Leah watched as the cleric hunched over the keyboard and mouse. From her front row seat she could just barely hear what he was saying to the young man.
"Ok, so I have your email, four social media accounts, two messenger accounts. Let me see your web history. It looks like you have been spending time in a few other communities. Let's start logging into them."
Leah felt bad for the poor boy. His face was pale as Jokim rattled off the list of accounts.
"Look, kid. I don't want to be here all day. Just log into them, will ya?"
"We pray for him to give up these accounts! We pray for him to renounce them!" the Pastor boomed over the drone. "Do it now, boy! Do it now!"
Shaking, the first renunciant started clicking and typing. Jokim watched, nodding. Then, when the last key had been stroked, the cleric made eye contact with the Pastor and nodded.
"He has done it! The boy has opened up all of the channels! Now is a crucial time. Keep praying as our cleric takes control of these devil personas. Make no mistake, he is in danger even as he sits here among all of us. We must be vigilant!"
As the prayers continued Leah could see Jokim click a few times, look down to a little notepad, carefully type a bit, then double check and click some more to start the cycle over again. He did this about a dozen times as the young man looked on in horror.
"You can't change my passwords," he shouted, suddenly standing. "You can't just, just, take over my accounts!" In an instant two strong churchmen stepped up behind him and sat him back down again. "You can't do this!" he yelled. "No! No!"
"Keep praying all! For the love of God keep praying! You can see the poor boy's soul being bled of the devil's toxins. You can see how painful it is to him! Show him your love! Your love must fill the space left by this poison!"
The cleric looked up and gave another nod to the preacher.
"There! Brother Jokim has taken control of the channels! He has separated the personas from this poor sinner's soul. Passwords," he crooned, "are reset! Now, though, comes the hardest part. Now that we have reclaimed these personas in the name of God we must thoroughly examine them. We must learn what the devil does when he manages to turn good folk away from the light, when he manages to break off shards of our very kin's souls and scatter them across the digital wasteland.
"Before we let him leave today, we must see how far he has gone and what he has done there.
"If you would be so kind to escort this young man to wait in prayer back in the rectory until we receive confirmation from the good clerics from Jokim's home church that all the accounts have been thoroughly searched, transmuted and destroyed. If should only be a matter of… hours Jokim?"
Jokim looked up and nodded, then turned around and distinctly mouthed something that seamed profane. Leah immediately realized that she must be mistaken, though, as this was he highest order of business of the lord. It was her own sinful nature that would even think he would say such a thing.
There was a scream in the back of the church. A woman yelled, "No! Get off me." She kicked her way to the end of the pews and ran back up the isle for the door. Her high heeled shoes made tiny echoey taps on the stone floor. Then her thin screams echoed again as she heaved against the locked doors. Gasps and murmurs ripped across the room.
"I'm sorry sister, but you may not leave until you have renounced your channels up here. Will you do it? No? Ok, gentlemen. Please. This is not uncommon. Take her to the waiting area until she tires. Once her strength leaves her the devil can no longer move her against God's will.
"Now, we have what, twenty three more computers to go? Twenty eight? Oh that's glorious! Let us move forward then. Will the owner of this laptop please come down and renounce the channels that the devil has dredged into your soul? We shall sing from our book of songs. Everyone open to page four thousand and ninety six."
Renunciant after renunciant renounced. Some did so born again into into graceful crafted splendor, others broke down into tears. The few who refused were removed from the room along with their equipment. When Jokim had finished working on the last machine he gave a thumbs up to the Pastor.
Before the ceremony could conclude, a shaky voice rang out from the pews.
"Pastor! Pastor! I believe I have been passed over!"
"We may have just one more! Jokim, have we missed one?" He turned off his mic, but Leah could still just barely hear what they were saying from the front row.
"Yeah, that's the guy who brought in this microwave," Jokim said.
Meshach covered the mic and leaned down toward Jokim. "He brought in a microwave?"
"Yup."
"Well, here's what we can do," the pastor whispered. "Set it for twenty seconds, hit start and lay your hand on top of it."
"You want me to run it for twenty seconds with my hand on it? Like this?" Brother Jokim said incredulously. "Should I use defrost or full power?"
"It matters not. Just put your hand on it just like that. Ok, go, go, go."
He came back before the mic.
"You are right sir! We did miss one. This may sound crazy to all of you but I am not prepared to miss any channel that may have found its way to any of my flock. If one resides here, with Jokim's help I will be able to shut it down. There, can you hear it now?"
The whirring of the microwave's fans and the thumping of it's ill positioned rotating tray carried remarkably well through the room.
"Now! I command you… stop!" At that very moment the whirring stopped. "In the name of the father," Beep, "the son," Beep, "and the wholy spirit!" Beep.
The room fell into dead silence, only broken by Jokim lightly patting the top of the microwave.
"It is done."
The service ended and the family clip-clopped home in silence. The bulk of the congregation left trying to integrate what had just happened into their world views. Leah could see a few of those who had been separated from their accounts. Those were the ones silently wailing.
As he dropped his family off at home, Leah's father looked her in the eye and said. "Do you know where your sister is?"
"No, father," she sputtered.
"Shut up you whore. Tell me do you know where she is?!"
"… no," Leah managed.
"As soon as you see her you send her straight to me, got it?"
Matthew started to cry.
Darren looked at him, then to her and slid into his car.
"As soon as you see her…" he slammed the door and sped off.
That night Leah snuck out. Matthew wouldn't sleep. He'd start fussing, then let out a cry. If he woke up her father, it may not go well. How bad, exactly, she had no way of knowing.
Best to get out.
Leah slid out of bed and scooped up her bundled jacket, shoes, extra blanket, and diaper bag. That diaper bag was a heavy burden to carry. It was her aunt who had first told her that she needed to protect her child, and showed her some basic ways to do this. Leah felt that weight every time she picked up that diaper bag.
Funny how that happens.
The house was old and creaky, but she knew which boards would and wouldn't sound the alarm of her departure. She zigged, zigged, zagged, then took the big step to the top of the stairs that required steadying herself against the wall. In daylight she often noticed the wear she left in that one spot on the wall. No one else would ever guess what that particular scuff was from. Much like the power and responsibility of the diaper bag, that knowledge was hers, and her alone.
Leah opened the front door silently. She oiled it every week and ensured there was nothing hanging on it that would rattle or jingle when it shut.
The summer night rushed into her ears and nose as she stepped outside. The difference between inside an out was shocking. It brought Leah to take a deep breath. The exhale always came with a bout of tears that she was convinced that couldn't afford to understand, but the first few hundred feet along the path mowed into the weedy barley always calmed her down.
It calmed Matthew down too.
Her eyes fell on his as they walked the familiar path through the darkness outside the house.
His eyes were becoming so alert now. She thought a tiny baby would zone out and drift off out in nature. To the contrary, his gaze would always dart between her face and the moon. Then all of the sudden he would change his attention to something else. Sometimes he would glance over the tree tops, or the high barley, or the sharp triangular shape of the old barn pointing to heaven.
Leah could feel him growing and flourishing with every moment. She could feel the freedom that formed within him. The eternity of the species laid its benevolent finger over her fearful mortal mind and said, shhhhhh, you've made your mark in the future and that is all you can do.
This feeling was something totally different than the devotion that Pastor Meshach and her family demanded of her. She attributed her tears to this shock. I was just like the release you get when first stepping from a cold shower into a warm reality.
The latest thing he started to do during the day was to grasp his hands together. When his mother saw this she called her father over. Look, he's learning to pray.
Leah pushed that thought aside a bit. I mean, maybe, she thought. It rubbed her deep in the wrong way. Maybe he's rubbing his hands together trying to make the sounds of those cicadas, she would secretly counter.
They continued past the big old barn full of abandoned farm equipment coated in tetanus, followed the path back into the woods, then to another field by the old lake. This was her favorite place to sit at night. She'd been coming for the past couple of years at first by herself and now with Matthew. She was glad that he seemed to love it as much as she did.
They sat for a while watching the moon shimmer on the water and listening to the din of the cicadas. This was a prime year for them. She changed Matthew, dunking his little butt in the shallows. He kicked and cooed as she dried him. Then he ate and fell asleep.
Now you will sleep all night, she said to him.
Time out there was usually peaceful but this time Leah couldn't relax. She couldn't help worrying about her sister. Mary had always rebelled against their parents. She never accepted their faith and only begrudgingly attended the bare minimum of services, just one per day and only twice on the ceremonial days, to pacify them.
This time felt different, though. Things had changed now that she was a professional. As soon as she got that job, the arguments switched from attempts to get through to adulthood to fading arguments to stay in this house.
Pastor Meshach called in the computers the day before. Leah had expected Mary to fight tooth and nail. But no, there was none of that. She just agreed to it, and even agreed to to go off with her mother to a month at the nunnery to refocus herself on what was important: god and family.
Mary gave in way too easily and now she was nowhere to be found.
She can't really be gone, can she? Leah whispered to her sleeping baby as she started back toward the house.
She was about to turn up her driveway when she heard a whisper coming from behind her.
"Hey. Hey, Leah."
"Mary? What are you doing out here?"
"Waiting for you. I'm glad you came back when you did. I was about to give up. Did you take him to the lake?"
Leah nodded.
Mary kissed Matthew on the cheek and pursed her lips into a hardened smile. Then she looked up.
"I'm leaving," she whispered.
"You're leaving? Where are you going?"
"I'm going to New York City. There is nothing for me here anymore."
"New York City? That's just a dream. Your family is here."
Mary teared up a bit. "This isn't family, Leah. Family is something that you're part of. I'm the daughter that needs to find a husband. That's all I am here but that's not who I am. They're going to take away everything else from me until that's all I'm left with."
"But it's the Lord's love that holds us…" Leah recited.
"Leah, no. Please stop. Don't say those words." She composed herself. "I don't want the Lord's love unless I get his respect along with it. Do you understand?
"… Listen, come with me. Let's leave together."
"What? I couldn't possibly."
"I can take care of us. I've already lined up a job through the company I work for now. I can afford an apartment and food. We can…"
"Mary," Leah blurted out. "No, you can't leave. I can't leave… we can't leave," she whispered nodding down to her sleeping child. "I need to be here for Lenny. It was so rough for him today in church. I promised I'd be here for him when he gets out."
"When he gets out? Do you hear how insane this all is? We can't stay here!" Mary shouted a little too loudly. They both looked through the trees to the house in fear of a light coming on. "Do you remember what happened when you became pregnant at sixteen? They sent to you to all those nights of deep prayer and penitence at the church. It took months before Pastor Meshach agreed that Matthew could possibly be pure. Do you remember that?"
"No, no, that was necessary," Leah was shaking now. The shame and pain they'd driven deep inside her began to rise up. She packed it back down with ruthless efficiency. They had given her those techniques too.
"Do you want Matthew to grow up with all of this? Now that you can't be married, you've become the slut daughter only narrowly redeemed by birthing them a grandson who the Pastor approves of. That's all you'll ever be to them. Do you know how lucky you are that Matthew is a boy?"
"I'm not just their daughter. I'm his mother."
"For now. But you know they will raise him as they choose. Who are they going to make him? Our parents have plans that he will take over for Meshach when he grows up. Is that what you want him to do? What if he doesn't want that? What will his life be like?"
"I'm his mother. I won't let them harm him."
"Oh, Leah. How do you plan to stop them?"
"I won't let anyone harm Matthew!"
"There's only one way you can stop them. Come with me now. Bring Matthew."
"There's another way. I can't leave."
"Why not? Is it because of these?" Mary tapped a well defined lump in the outer pocket of the diaper pouch. It rattled with the impact. "These pills make you weak and stupid."
"That is not true!" This time it was Leah who yelled a little too loud. "That's not true," she dialed it down. "These are prescribed for pain and anxiety."
"Prescribed by who? Meshach. He isn't a doctor, he…" she trailed off.
"Mary, I can't come with you. This is my home. This is our home."
"Damn it, Leah. Ok. Stay. But if I mean anything to you as a sister you need to take this and keep it safe. Hide this. Do not use it in the house. Do not let our parents ever find out."
She handed over a pouch. Leah opened it and peered inside. It contained a glassy rectangle and a wire.
"That's a phone and charger. My number is programmed into it. Please, please call me if you need to get out of here. Goodbye."
Leah watched as Mary's silhouette disappeared down the road. The phone felt alien in her hand. She slipped it in with the diapers and wipes. The diaper bag became even heavier.
Mary turned and walked down the street. Leah reached out for a second, then turned back toward the house. She became, once again, as if nothing had happened and snuck back to her room.
She put Matthew in his crib. He was still out cold. She, on the other hand, felt as though her heart was going to beat out of her chest. She brushed her teeth in the pitch-black, powerless bathroom and swallowed a pill.
That was better.
These little things took so much of the vulgar world away, whatever Mary had to say.