The Twins of Noremway Parish (13 page)

“
Decon?” Plague asked looking to the friar.

“
You heard her.”

“
Aye. I trust your judgment. But if I conclude that there is no way to save them both, then leaving them together is not an option. We would be condemning an otherwise healthy child to death.”

“
Sure,” Decon said. “Teret,
if
both can’t be saved—”

“
Please don’t talk about it. You can save them both. I’m sure of it.”

“
I plan on it, Sister. No child’s death is inevitable–not even this one. You can be sure that before I operate I will ensure all possible scenarios have been mapped out. Even if there is a way to keep them living together. They may not lead a ‘normal’ life as we see it, but it may be better than giving one a death sentence. I’ll consider any option that does not condemn them both to death.”

***

That night they called a parish meeting by sending the riders out to go door-to-door to make the announcement. Brother Decon, Sister Teret, and Dr. Plague decided together that it would be best if the parishioners knew what was going on. They gathered within the cathedral.

Teret felt sorry for the twins when she saw Plague holding them. She loved them already–she barely knew them, but she loved them with all her heart. It was true. She felt it. She never would have believed it was possible to love someone so deeply. Of course, she missed her students at the end of the day, but there was always a detachment there–professional or otherwise, the detachment was there. The twins had the possibility of being her own. Children she could raise, hold, mold, and love unconditionally.

Plague brought the twins onto the pulpit. The broken fountain in front of them was a reminder to the three of them of where these twins had come from.

The twins were wrapped tightly in a gold and red blanket. She knew immediately that Plague’s interest in the children was purely medical; there was nothing paternal about the way he held them. Jealousy ate at her innards as she stood with Decon facing the parishioners that night. “Decon, I’m so scared for them,” she whispered.

“
Don’t be,” he replied. “They’ll be fine. We got this.” The feeling he had felt before continued to eat away at his stomach as nausea threatened to make a mockery of his artificial composure. The woman he loved would be devastated if he couldn’t be by her side to care for the twins, but, on the other hand, the parish law would fall apart if he were.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t know what to do.

When everyone had arrived for the gathering, Decon addressed the crowd. Lanterns lit the edges of the hall to ensure good lighting. It was hard to tell what the citizens were thinking as the shadows danced across their faces. “We saw most of the seasonal rains this afternoon. They were early, but what a downpour it was!” Cheers erupted throughout the cathedral; even Rita Morgan joined the jubilation. “This piece of good news comes on the tail of yesterday’s tragic events. Tomias and Lynn Waterman have passed on, but they are in a better place now. A garden of the luscious green awaits us all in death. The promise of this garden reminds us that all is not lost in our world. The beauty of the ancient lands still exists for us on another plane of existence. As many of you recall, Dr. Plague and I went to their residence last night. We found them dead; killed by wolves.”

Light talking rippled among the crowd: fearful: the wolves. There were rumors of witchcraft or dark sorcery. Ignoring this, Decon continued. “But that wasn’t all we found. Their child had been torn from his mother’s womb by these same vicious wolves. As many of you who came back to the cathedral last night saw, we had the child and gave him a baptism before we even attempted to save his life. By some mysterious work of God, and by the blessing of Ragas, the child dissolved in the holy water.” A gasp rang throughout the chamber.

“
Witchcraft!” Rita stood up and cried. “We have a witch among us–the witch in red…Teret Finley!” Teret’s face went as red as her hair. No one spoke up, but based on how uncomfortable they looked, Decon knew that no one felt the same way. “Witch! Witch!”

He saw the tears rolling down Teret’s face. Large droplets welled in her eyes and then traced a clean trail down her face. “Rita Morgan, I order you to bite your tongue. You
will not
talk thus to any parish leader: Not in my presence and most certainly not in the cathedral! Do you understand?”

“
I understand that you are a tyrant. Come on, James. We’re going to the chancellor to get this friar and his harlot removed.” She stormed away with James following slowly behind. Decon could tell by his posture that he was embarrassed to be married to the woman that made it her duty to build mountains out of molehills.

Several other people stood with intent to follow Rita and her husband out of the cathedral. Then several more joined them, walking to the back. They followed like the sheep that Rita and James kept behind their orchard, without thought, but with an unshakable sense of loyalty to the one—Rita Morgan—who fashioned their outrage.
This is why we need to be careful. Tread softly or some will claim to be treaded upon.
He wasn’t quite sure what this thought meant; it was just something that had occurred to him. Then a follow-up, this one more precise:
Those first to complain about encroachments upon liberty are usually the biggest extinguishers of the same.
His heart sped as frustration enveloped him. He’d given all to the parish and sacrificed so much, yet so many would see him as a tyrant just on the word of Rita Morgan, she who would dispense with all liberty save her own if she ever got the chance.

Meanwhile, the twins stirred in Plague’s arms. The blanket hid the deformity within. As soon as Rita, James, and their group of followers were gone, Decon said, “Thank God they’re gone.” Relieved laughter filled the air. Someone shouted, “You said it, Brother!” He looked over to Teret who was smiling despite the tears in her eyes. “And now the most important reason for this meeting. We have a new member of our little town. I’ll be perfectly honest with all of you, I’ve never heard of anything like this occurring in nature before, but this child—these
children—
are the Watermans’ heirs. Unwrap them please, Bartholomew.” He uncovered the children.

Rita, leaving her husband and crew outside, had stepped back into the cathedral to give Decon one last piece of her mind. Maybe she had heard his “Thank God” barb, or maybe she just wanted to stir up more trouble. Either way, she saw the twins clearly as Plague revealed them. “
It’s the devil!
” she screamed. “
The devil!
”

Suddenly, both of the twins erupted into ear-piercing screams. The shouts had scared them from their deep slumber.

“
No, no, no calm down. Calm down. These children are not the devil. In fact, they are a miracle. Bartholomew will help explain these children’s deformity. And Rita, I am asking you nicely to leave. If you continue to persist, I will alert the sheriff and have him drag you out of here by force.”

Plague handed the twins to Teret who wrapped them back up in the blanket. They immediately stopped crying. Decon approached Rita, trying to look tougher than he felt, in an attempt to frighten her into leaving and staying gone. She executed an about-face and stormed out to meet her husband at the exit.

Plague explained the nature of the child’s deformities. That they were twins—a special type known as
conjoined
twins.

Within minutes the people in the crowd began to relax. Some came up to the stage to see them up close (the blanket prevented them from seeing much). Others stayed back, afraid of what they couldn’t explain. Ortega Gool, the local black smith, climbed atop the pulpit and attempted to take the twins from Teret’s arms. “How else do you explain it? This monstrosity must be the work of the devil,” he roared as he made a grab for the bundle.

Decon sympathized with Ortega; they were all confused and didn’t understand it at all. A lack of understanding often lead to fear and prejudice, but this was not a time to let those things win over their common decency, especially when the subjects of hostility were a couple of newborn boys who happened to have a deformity never before seen in Noremway Parish. “Listen,” Decon said, pushing him away from Teret and the twins. “I understand where you’re coming from, I really do! But just think…you are afraid of a couple of young children—
newborn children
—who have done no harm to you.”

“
I do not believe it,” Ortega retorted. “Something mischievous is in the air, and if you aren’t going to stop it, I will.” He put a hand in his cloak and pulled out a revolver. “Hand over the demon. I’m going to shoot it dead.”

“
Ortega—” Decon said.

“
Silence! Sister Teret, hand it over
NOW!
”

“
No,” she said.

“
Ortega, listen to yourself,” Decon reasoned. Plague stood off to the side, looking unsure of what to do. Should he step in and risk provoking the man into pulling the trigger, or did he hang back and allow Decon to appeal to the man’s reason?

Ortega looked Teret straight in the eyes, “Best you hand them over or the friar dies where he stands.” He now aimed the revolver straight at Decon’s face. The people in the crowd stood in rapt attention, unsure of what to do. No one moved until, seemingly out of nowhere, an arrow passed through Ortega’s back. He looked down at the arrowhead protruding from his chest as Decon grabbed his wrist and twisted the gun from his hand.

“
Who did this?” Decon shouted, even though he already knew. There was one man in the parish that carried a crossbow. When Ortega fell to his knees, the culprit’s identity became clear.

“
Sorry, Brother Decon, but I had to,” Franz Phoenix said. He approached the friar, and held out his hand for the revolver, which Decon dutifully gave him. “You alright, Decon? Teret?”

“
I’m alright,” Teret said.

“
Just fine. Get him out of here. He’s staining the floor.”

“
Not very forgiving tonight, are we?”

“
Not particularly. Should I be? He had a revolver on Teret.”

“
He actually had it on you, Decon,” Franz corrected.

“
Decon, please. I’m taking them to your office,” Teret said and quickly walked off the pulpit with the bundle in her arms.

“
You’re the friar. If you can’t forgive, who can?” Franz, of course, had no interest in discussing the nuances of
forgiveness
. He just thought he was being funny.

Plague spoke up, “I’m fine by the way.”

“
Good to know,” replied the sheriff.

Ortega lay bleeding on the ground. The puddle was spreading on the stage, creating a crimson pool. “Help me get him up,” Decon said to the doctor. “Now, everyone, I need you all to stay calm. Learn from this example. If we let fear get the best of us, we only stand to lose.”

“
Words of wisdom, folks,” Franz said holding up his crossbow. “Now I’m an arrow short. This won’t do.”

The sheriff and Plague started to carry Ortega to the infirmary. “Alright,” Decon said, calling everyone’s attention. “Ortega Gool’s reaction was just what we don’t want to see. We are all scared. I just want to reiterate what Dr. Plague said; these children are conjoined twins. Instead of being two separate individuals in mind and body, they are only separate in mind. Their bodies haven’t quite made the full split.” There was a low murmur in the crowd. He took this as a sign in the affirmative. “What we need to do is come together as a community and welcome these children as citizens of Noremway Parish. In the meantime, Doctor Plague will be working on a process to separate them so they can live normal, healthy, and productive lives. So, is this all set? Or is there anything else that needs to be addressed?”

The eldest citizen of the Parish, Mica Jones, stood up from the front pew in which she’d rested her brittle bones. She supported her old, frail frame on a cane. Her muscles shook as she stood. “Brother Decon, Sister Teret, may I see this child?” Mica usually stayed out of the public eye, preferring to participate behind the scenes through her home at the outskirts of town. She had a long memory, claiming to remember everything important that had happened in the parish in the past 100 years. She claimed once to have been kidnapped by the caravan-folk of the desert lands, saying they were nothing short of the mythical creatures. Sometime her memory was spot on, other times not so much.

Teret brought the twins over to Mica. She put her free hand on each of their foreheads. “They have strong souls,” she said. “Most powerful I have ever felt. They need to be separated as soon as possible. This one,” she said pointing to the more docile of the two—the head with a complete body, “must not be allowed to die. The spirit of Ragas is strong in this one.”

“
Neither should be allowed to die,” Teret said.

“
In a perfect world, my dear, I would agree, but the world isn’t perfect, is it? Don’t condemn this child to die because you want to save them both.” As she spoke, the incomplete child opened its eyes and stared in Mica’s. “Oh dear, you must get it away. Remember my words,” she said and then ambled home with her cane as her only aid.

Part Two