Read Online Life on the Preservation, US Edition by Jack Skillingstead - Free Book Online
Authors: Jack Skillingstead
Tags: Science-Fiction
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poisoned sky. They blamed it for the their loss of sexual function and for the wasting illness that was slowly finishing off the stragglers left behind after The Judgment. But Father Jim had taken to blessing the town’s catch basins after every rainfall, transforming poison into safe Holy Water. Of course, everybody was still dying.
She helped Billy sit up. He dropped the first two aspirins she gave him. She placed the next ones directly on his tongue and helped him with the water bottle. Some of it dribbled into his beard but he managed to swallow the pills. To Kylie, those little white tablets seemed frighteningly inadequate.
“Can you stand?” she asked Billy.
“If you help me.”
She tried but she was a small person and Billy was not. He leaned heavily on her, and they staggered into the living room, colliding with furniture, kicking empty beer bottles over. It reminded her of other clumsy waltzes they’d performed when Billy was blind staggering drunk. She helped him make a semi-controlled crash onto the sofa. He groaned loudly and held his hand up to his forehead without actually touching it.“Jesus Christ,” he said.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. Unless you can pull a doctor out of your butt.”
“I don’t think I can.”
She covered him with a blanket. “Spinning,” Billy mumbled and then was quiet.
Father Jim was finally quiet, too. Billy had shot him in the head, so he should be quiet. Kylie took what remained of her candle and hunkered in the short hallway where Billy had fallen. She held the candle out and above her eye level, moving it side to side, searching for the dropped pistol. The priest resumed his clotted, wet snoring. Kylie tried to ignore it. Candlelight revealed the little automatic where it lay next to the priest. She reached for it. Even in Kylie’s hand it was small.
Before The Judgment, it had seemed to her Father Jim could do anything, overcome anything. He often told the story of his ‘wayward’ teenage years and how joining the Marines had saved him, matured him. He was scary-intelligent when he wanted to be, and he had gotten into officer’s training and eventually became a pilot. Later, he heard the Lord calling him to serve a higher organization, and he left the Marines. He could still fly airplanes, though. He could still give flying lessons. Jim owned a little red and white Cessna 150. It had only two seats and was so small Kylie laughed the first time she saw him fold his body into the cabin.
It was in that little airplane that Father Jim finally took advantage of all his years of grooming Kylie. She was thrilled the first time he took her flying. She hadn’t been in the least bit frightened. “It’s no harder than learning to drive a car,” he said. “I’ll teach you.” And that’s all it was for several lessons. She was good and hooked and wouldn’t have given up those lessons for anything, the first time Jim put his hand on her thigh. He had been touching her for a while, of course, though never in front of other people and never there . But it seemed he was always rubbing her back or taking her hand, or playing with her hair.
But that first time, in the airplane flying over the Kitsap Peninsula, that he settled his hand on her thigh – that was the true start. It was August and hot even at two thousand feet. Father Jim’s hand was firm. Kylie tried to keep her thighs tight together but she couldn’t really do that and work the rudder pedals. Jim kept giving her instructions about what to do with the airplane. “Make a left turn, Kylie. Watch your horizon. Pull back on the yoke a little to keep your nose up. And keep the little ball centered on that instrument. There you go.” His hand worked around to her inner thigh, where it remained for the rest of the lesson – just that far. A week later he made love to her on a cot in the airport office. No, ‘made love’ is what she told herself. The truth was, he raped her. And from then on
She helped Billy sit up. He dropped the first two aspirins she gave him. She placed the next ones directly on his tongue and helped him with the water bottle. Some of it dribbled into his beard but he managed to swallow the pills. To Kylie, those little white tablets seemed frighteningly inadequate.
“Can you stand?” she asked Billy.
“If you help me.”
She tried but she was a small person and Billy was not. He leaned heavily on her, and they staggered into the living room, colliding with furniture, kicking empty beer bottles over. It reminded her of other clumsy waltzes they’d performed when Billy was blind staggering drunk. She helped him make a semi-controlled crash onto the sofa. He groaned loudly and held his hand up to his forehead without actually touching it.“Jesus Christ,” he said.
“What can I do?”
“Nothing. Unless you can pull a doctor out of your butt.”
“I don’t think I can.”
She covered him with a blanket. “Spinning,” Billy mumbled and then was quiet.
Father Jim was finally quiet, too. Billy had shot him in the head, so he should be quiet. Kylie took what remained of her candle and hunkered in the short hallway where Billy had fallen. She held the candle out and above her eye level, moving it side to side, searching for the dropped pistol. The priest resumed his clotted, wet snoring. Kylie tried to ignore it. Candlelight revealed the little automatic where it lay next to the priest. She reached for it. Even in Kylie’s hand it was small.
Before The Judgment, it had seemed to her Father Jim could do anything, overcome anything. He often told the story of his ‘wayward’ teenage years and how joining the Marines had saved him, matured him. He was scary-intelligent when he wanted to be, and he had gotten into officer’s training and eventually became a pilot. Later, he heard the Lord calling him to serve a higher organization, and he left the Marines. He could still fly airplanes, though. He could still give flying lessons. Jim owned a little red and white Cessna 150. It had only two seats and was so small Kylie laughed the first time she saw him fold his body into the cabin.
It was in that little airplane that Father Jim finally took advantage of all his years of grooming Kylie. She was thrilled the first time he took her flying. She hadn’t been in the least bit frightened. “It’s no harder than learning to drive a car,” he said. “I’ll teach you.” And that’s all it was for several lessons. She was good and hooked and wouldn’t have given up those lessons for anything, the first time Jim put his hand on her thigh. He had been touching her for a while, of course, though never in front of other people and never there . But it seemed he was always rubbing her back or taking her hand, or playing with her hair.
But that first time, in the airplane flying over the Kitsap Peninsula, that he settled his hand on her thigh – that was the true start. It was August and hot even at two thousand feet. Father Jim’s hand was firm. Kylie tried to keep her thighs tight together but she couldn’t really do that and work the rudder pedals. Jim kept giving her instructions about what to do with the airplane. “Make a left turn, Kylie. Watch your horizon. Pull back on the yoke a little to keep your nose up. And keep the little ball centered on that instrument. There you go.” His hand worked around to her inner thigh, where it remained for the rest of the lesson – just that far. A week later he made love to her on a cot in the airport office. No, ‘made love’ is what she told herself. The truth was, he raped her. And from then on
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