A Seething Cauldron

"Okay, but I hate you're doing it all," I semi-complained.

"Yeah, I know; the load is so heavy," she faked being overworked, but her smile was right along side of her words.

Sure enough, as I left all of the few other clothes I had on, and stepped into the shower. When I came out, they were being washed, but I didn't see Janet. Getting into my sleeping gown, I stepped out and saw Janet in hers already.

"After I put all the clothes in the washer, I went into the other bedroom to shower," which a moment later I knew meant that she was naked as she put them all in.

Somehow that brought a flush of desire within me, a bit of it going to my face which I quickly averted.

"They shouldn't take long to finish, then to dry," I said.

"True. Want a cup of tea while we wait for them, then let them dry? That way we'll have yours out and ready for work," she offered.

"That sounds good; I just hate that I'm putting you out, what with you doing everything like cooking," I teased her, something else I couldn't remember doing in the past.

"True, I have slaved, huh?" she teased back.

It didn't take long for the clothes to finish washing, and I pretended to help her with the too heavy load to be dried.

"Glad you helped," she said with that beautiful smile I was loving to see.

"Couldn't let you shoulder all the load," I kept on being light with her.

When they were done, we pulled them out after rinsing out tea cups. I laid my clothes out, save my panties, that I slipped on. She set the alarm then followed me into bed. The day had been pretty stress free, and I wondered if I would still be afforded her breast to lay my head on. A welling of desire to do just that came over me, and I sensed some indecision on laying my head back. She must have noticed; that or she wondered if I'd be okay without her nearness.

"Think you can sleep, or would you like for me to hold you? I will if you think you may need it," came her wanted invitation.

"Ma—maybe," I stuttered.

"Come here," she whispered softly—too softly, huskily, I thought.

Her arm out, I rolled onto her breast, and sighed.

"Thank you," I murmured. "I may be getting too used to using you like a security blanket," I modified my feelings as I spoke.

"Whenever you feel like you need me to hold you, just let me know, okay?" she did say with bated breath.

I couldn't help it; in fact, I didn't think about it, just did it. "Thank you," I said, and kissed her breast.

Immediately I realized what I had done, felt my face grow crimson, and started to apologize, but her words cut mine off before they started.

"You're very welcome," she said, and tugged at me as if she could pull me deeper into her.

Maybe she more than liked me. Then again, maybe she was just being polite, or feeling sorry for me. No matter, I loved being at her side as I was.

Chapter 7

Moving in sync, we got up, did our morning necessities, ate, and made a lunch, then went to work together. It was all done without the need to rush.

"That was smooth, huh?" commented Janet.

"Yes, very much so," I agreed.

Thereafter there was little talk as we worked as always, save that we often smiled at each other. As I worked, I also thought, not necessarily liking my new found ability to do so, but it was necessary. I also knew instinctively that I had much more to think about, and that I had to do it alone though I might wish for Janet's security nearby.

"Would you like to come home with me again?" Janet asked as our quitting time came.

"Yes, but I think that I'd better not. I can't avoid what I know that I have to do."

"Honey, you have my number; if you feel like you need me, you can call, or come by, or I can go to you, okay?"

"Okay, and thanks," I said.

"Promise?"

I nodded.

* * * *

Home, I scrounged up a meager meal; I didn't really feel like eating, but I made myself take at least as much nourishment as I could to sustain me. Then I sat to think. This place where I lived wasn't used to me thinking, but it didn't fuss with me over it. Oddly, the first thing that I thought about was the bible saying that a father could sell his daughter, but said nothing about the selling of a son. For whatever reason, that last part didn't bother me—it was just there.

What began to take shape in my mind was how the god that we said was the one true god, and could, and was said to do, many miracles, as well as set forth all the laws that he was said to have had Moses make all Jews live by, and in our time, many did, or said they did, but I hadn't heard of any selling their daughter. Maybe no one needed to do that, or, more likely, it was against the law—our local law, that is.

Thinking back to the earliest bible days though, I wondered that any god that was a real and loving father as we were taught that he was, could say that it was okay to sell a daughter. We were led to believe that he not only cared for the sparrow, but much more for us.

Of course, in those days, selling anybody was a common thing, no matter if it was a son or a daughter. Maybe it was a law because of it being common in those days. God did make the law to partially protect the daughter if she was sold. But why couldn't he not allow it? He was god almighty, and he could, and was said to do as he saw fit, so why not buck the selling of one's flesh and blood even if it was just a daughter? That didn't fit, no part of it seemed right—but why just a daughter? Were we of less value?

How could the one true god of many miracles, a god who led armies of Jews against many cities, against monstrously huge men, who could part rivers for his leaders and prophets, worry about possibly offending the sensibilities of other nations, nations that he was said to allow his armies to destroy?

It didn't make sense. It just didn't make sense.

It was true that I didn't know the bible, only knowing what my parents taught me and what the preacher taught them, so it wasn't surprising that this one thing in the Old Testament was the only thing I could ever remember reading. I was ignorant of what the bible really said. Truly ignorant, I admitted to myself. Believing what others told me: parents, preacher, other teachers, few though they might have been at my age, did not constitute any real knowing on my part. But the one thing I finally could say that I knew was that god as preached, did not make sense, and that clung to me like pollen on a bee, and that pollen was sticking strongly to me. I couldn't let the thought go.

When it was time to go to sleep, I found myself feeling for Janet's presence. I sorely missed her. A few tears seeped out as I felt a longing for her nearness, to cuddle up with her and feel her hand in my hair, her breast on my cheek. It was desire! That desire welled up in me as my body squirmed as if trying to conjure up her body so that I could find the comfort that she had so swiftly provided to me.

Knowing that, my longing for her was becoming such a strong pull, a pull I enjoyed feeling, and thinking that, I finally fell asleep with my admitted new feeling supplanting all that had troubled me before.

* * * *

"Are you okay?" Janet asked worriedly as she saw me.

"Yes," I said, noting her concern.

That concern made me think that I wished that my parents had shown a little of the concern that was evident in Janet's asking after me. That gave me fodder for my next round of thoughts.

As we worked, I told Janet of my thoughts about that one scripture she had given me..

"Sounds as if you were doing some real heavy thinking," she said.

I snorted quietly. "Any thinking I did had to be called heavy whether it was or not," I said.

She laughed. I loved her laugh.

"Still want to go to your place?" she asked.

"I have to, Janet. You've opened up to me that I could, and maybe that I should, think, and I have so much to think about. I can't hide from it any longer, can't keep closing my mind off to any thinking so that I don't think about those unthinkable things that I've been hiding from. They won't go away by me avoiding them; in fact, they may never go away, but I have to face them or they'll keep me from all else. They nearly kept me from you, and I can't have that. Goodness only knows what all I've missed so far."

"Okay, honey, but don't forget to call me if you need to, or just feel like it. Okay?" she emphasized that last word.

* * * *

When I considered my parents' part in all that happened, the possibility that how they left us in the care of strangers, that apparently no one knew anything about, to be somewhat like a father selling his daughter, but in this case, of parents selling their children. It was a nebulous connection, but it was there.

Still, when I thought of it, it was true that they'd not known of how the so-called counselors would be, or even if they were qualified to be counselors. I'd not heard of that when we had returned, or much else, for that matter, but had our parents asked about their qualifications, or did they simply put their trust, and our lives, in the hands of the church? As far as I knew, that had to be the case.

Continuing to think, I wondered if they truly mourned the death of Matthew, or worry about where Rebecca might be, or how she was, or of the shape of Sarah's health—her mental health? It troubled me that I couldn't be sure, at least not really.

Did they even think of how we had all been affected? If so, how was it that I didn't know of it, only that they continued to go to that church, and to be staunch believers, especially enough so that they decided to return to the Lord's field, as they put it.

My anger started to return, and threatened to grow into a rage, and it wasn't only at my parents, but at the church that continued its so-called mission. More, the way the congregation reacted to the presence of Matthew, Sarah, Rebecca, as well as myself, wanted to turn my near rage into an explosion.

I had to stop thinking. Thinking was enlightening, but uncontrolled, it was also dangerous. At last I knew why I had refused to think for all of those years. Might I have wound up like Sarah, maybe shared a nearby room with her if I had thought as I was doing? Yes, it was possible. Perhaps something in me realized it and kept me sane until I was otherwise ready—but was I really ready?

In bed, my thoughts returned to Janet, her patience, her care, her warmth, and her touch. My longing for her also returned as did my growing desire for her. What was it that I desired of her though? Her nearness, her touch, her words, her person? Whatever it was about her, I knew that I needed her, and if possible, I wanted to be with her, but I also knew that I wanted to be as a whole person.

That would take more thought, more knowledge. I had to keep on seeking that knowledge.

* * * *

As before, I was drawn by Janet's worry over me, and drawn by her person. I told her of my thoughts, but not of my desire to be with her.

Through the rest of the week, it was the same, and after our last day of work, I had another decision to make.

"How about coming and spending the weekend with me again, honey?" she asked.

"Thank you; I'd love to, but I have to see how I am alone on a weekend. This isn't easy for me; in fact, it was a little easier when I didn't think, but I know I can't continue that way."

Just before we parted, we simultaneously hugged each other, and surprising to me, we both kissed each other's cheek. That kiss was so precious to me.

* * * *

That weekend after work, I was full of various thoughts, thoughts that I couldn't answer or fathom, though I did think about that one verse on selling one's daughter. As before, it niggled at my mind, and even made me wonder about just how true the bible could be. However, once that thought entered my mind, guilt and shame hit me, as well as the fact that I was being blasphemous. Fearful, I stopped my thinking, but then recanted my fears, thinking that it couldn't be blasphemous to seek the truth.

Several times I thought of calling Janet just to hear her voice somewhere other than at work, somewhere that I needn't consider who might be near and hear me.

Back to work again, each day I talked to Janet, answered whatever question she had for me, and each day I thought of how she truly was concerned about me, about my well-being.

The hug and kiss after parting from work became something that was as a habit, we did it so automatically, spontaneously. The last day of work though, I said yes to her invitation to go to her home for the weekend. Needless to say, my heart jumped for joy the moment I said yes. It was as if it was patting me on the back for a good and proper decision.

Chapter 8

"Welcome again," Janet said just before kissing my cheek again.

I took advantage and held our hug, then kissed her cheek.

"Thank you. I've missed being here," I said honestly.

"And I've missed you not being here. Just in case that you said yes to coming again, I put a roast on in the crock pot. I hope you like roast and vegetables."

I smiled; I loved them. I nodded.

"Good. I bet they're ready, but are you?"

"I guess I could be if you are."

"Let's wash up, then we can eat and relax and maybe talk if you wish."

"Okay," I said, and we both went to her bathroom where we got in each other's way as we washed amid mild laughing.

I helped her set it up, and she dished it out, then we enjoyed her ready meal. I liked her crock pot. The meat was tender and delicious, the vegetables well cooked and just as delicious.

We had talked little while we ate, but cleaned up, and washed the dishes as if we were old friends visiting and used to being together as we were. It was nice, but I was already longing for more than being friends, but if that wasn't what was in store for us, then I would be happy, just as long as I could be near her as often as possible. I was in love, and I knew it, though I had no idea what a love between us would entail. Whatever it was, if it could be, I wanted it regardless of whether or not we had only known each other for only a couple of weeks to all intents and purposes.

She brewed us a cup of chamomile, and we sat and talked on her sofa.

"Anything else to tell me?" she asked.

"Actually, no. I think I've gotten it all in at work."

"Tell me, honey, how did it really go over the weekend," she queried me, meaning the last weekend where I was alone.

"I nearly called you," I said with an embarrassed laugh. "In fact, I was tempted to call you several times even before that."

"I wish you had."

That statement was said tinged with meaning that I hoped I understood aright.

"I will next time," I promised in a near whisper.

"So, any more thoughts?" she asked after we'd paused, measuring each other, it seemed.

"Not really. Anything with you? You know," I didn't give her time to answer, "we never have talked about you, or what your take is about all that we've talked about."

"What there may be to be said about me is unimportant by comparison to you, so we can talk about me later. However, I have done something while you've been gone. Since you expressed so much thought of whether or not the story you've been told about the bible is true or not, I did some inquiring. I remembered about where I had heard that verse I told you about a father selling his daughter. I asked a few people and I found out, and more. Anyway, the lady I ended up talking to had some pretty interesting information and gave me a name and number I could call to learn more. Are you interested?"

She had my rapt attention immediately, and I was on the edge of the sofa as she ended.

"Yes; what did you find out?"

"Let me give you a run down on how all this came about, or so they tell me. It seems that there was a lady called Liv who met another named Paula, and they fell in love. Liv, though, was researching the bible for what she called the truth of the lies. Anyway, she started a class on finding contradictions and errors and other assorted things that fell into an odd category, if not outright lies, in the bible.

"She said that they generally congregated with friends in a lesbian club, where they knew another lady called Jabs. This is important because Liv was murdered by a religious nut, and as she and Paula had also fallen in love with this Jabs lady, Jabs took over the classes. They get pretty detailed. Oh, by the way, I verified that Liv was murdered. Anyway, Paula was kind enough to send me some of their material. I checked some of it out. You know that I'm not a church type person, and don't know much about the bible, but this stuff was interesting. Ready for some of it?"

"Yes," I said emphatically, and maybe I was over anxious to find out what she had.

She reached for the bible, which I hadn't paid attention to its being nearby, and handed it to me.

"Just a couple of things, and you can check them out. Anyway, they say that Moses couldn't possibly have written the first five books of the Old Testament as many commonly believe, but more on that in a moment. To start with in the bible, in the first chapter of Genesis, right off it's said that on the third day that god had the earth with grasses, herbs, and fruit trees yielding fruit, but there was no sun yet. We all know, or at least many of us, that the sun is a requirement for growing anything, but there was no sun until the fourth day.

"Another verifiable goof is Abraham. Most think that Abraham was born sometime in about the year 2000 BC, or BCE as it's now called, that is if he ever did exist. The goof is in his going to the land of Philistines and talking to the king of the Philistines."

She gave me where to find this, and sure enough, it was written as it had been given to Janet. She also gave me more on "Philistines" said to be in Abraham's and Isaac's time, but the Philistines were not known until after Ramses the Great died, and in the time of his son, in about the year 1180, or about 900 years after Abraham was said to have lived.

Though I wasn't up on history as such, yet I knew that Goliath was a Philistine in the time of king David, or so the story went, which I was now wondering if it was indeed all a story. My head was nodding as Janet waited on me.

"They call some things lynch pins, meaning things that in the bible, the Jews, and Christianity hang their hats on, so to speak. Another comes in on the Exodus. Though it doesn't give any actual dates, or who the Pharaoh was at the time of the Exodus, the bible does give two different conflicting times for it, the one in Exodus itself as being in the land of Rameses wherein it says that they settled Jacob and his children in Genesis, then at the start of the book of Exodus, it also says that they built the city of Raameses. Ramses the Great is known as the great builder, but he lived in the 1200s BC.

"The trouble comes in First Kings where it says that the Exodus occurred four hundred and eighty years from the time of the fourth year of the reign of king Solomon, which is said to put the Exodus as somewhere in the 1400s BC, or two hundred years earlier than the first date given for it. That's another lynch pin shot, they say."

I looked up those passages, and it was also as Janet read it. I was stunned! She went on after I looked up at her with quizzical eyes.

"Now here's what they call the bridge between the Old Testament of the Jews, and the New Testament of Christianity. Jesus is said to refer quite often not only to Moses, but to Daniel, and as in the book of Daniel, he picks up on the resurrection and preaches it. They say that the problem with that is that the book of Daniel has so many lies in it, as well as bad history, and that it makes the stories of Daniel in the lion's den, and the three youngsters in the fiery furnace look more like stories than you can imagine. Also, the resurrection is never mentioned until Daniel, and the Jews before that didn't believe it, as well as many after that either."