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10/27/2019 10:46 PM
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reply to geo. - sample
 Only be sure that you do not eat the blood, for the blood is the life, and you shall not eat the life with the flesh. - Deuteronomy - 12:23
Hadn't his whole goal been to misbehave? And yet in the last few weeks Luke hadn't managed to do much misbehaving at all. At first he was very enthusiastic about his freedom, perhaps too trusting and a bit too naive. Leaving his compound and exploring the world was part of his rite of passage, part of his culture, so why would God forsake him for partaking in the world? He had every intention of returning and that was what mattered the most. The compound cared not what you did so long as you came back to them and resumed your humble life among them. But there were many who remained virtuous, they did not venture far and hardly did anything for their entire time away from home. That was not what Luke wanted. He'd wanted to experience the world. True freedom. Perhaps that had been his downfall.
Maybe God only allowed so much and had seen what was really buried deep inside his heart. Those sinful longings that he dreamt about night after night. He wanted to stay out all night, to drink, to party, to... have sex. The meaningless kind but not just that. Luke wanted to know what dating felt like, what it meant to have chemistry with someone, to share their interests, to find them beautiful, to not care who they had been before. In his future, there would be no concept of dating, his life would be chosen for him. In a way it already was. He'd already been selected to share a bed with Ruth, shuffled into her room late one night with implicit instructions not to touch her.
He wasn't sure what such an act was meant to teach them. Self control maybe, or maybe the intention had always been for them to lose control and seal their fate. However it was too awkward for anything like that, instead he laid awake all night, listening to her breathe, not brave enough to look at her. It worried him to think she was awake too, laying there, afraid that he might come upon her before she was ready. That made it all worse.
In hindsight, he still struggled with the idea that that was how God wanted things to be, but doubt was a terrible thing and it had planted itself within him. He'd reached out for too much and God had struck him down before he could even take it. Now he was lost, trying as hard as he could to get back into God's favor.
The searing pain still gripped his memory. At times it seemed as though he was still consumed with the blur of his intoxication from that night. He couldn't explain what had happened that night on the beach, nor any of the many days after it. Luke just knew that things were different now.
His preachers had warned him of the slippery slope to damnation. How every sin opened one's soul up to the next but Luke was blinded by acts, only to find that he was wrong. It was possible to sin even in your heart. He felt like he'd been stricken by some demonic force. It was consuming his body, making him weak to the light of the morning, the light of God. This demon was wretched. It left a hollowness in his belly, an aching, burning. At first he was certain that it was his own heartbeat pumping frantically in his ears but when others drew close the beating worsened, he felt his mouth water, his limbs shake. He smelled copper. This demon wanted blood.
Luke didn't come to this conclusion lightly. As his symptoms worsened, refusing to subside, he knew that it wasn't a cold brought on by this new climate or by being around new people. He was far beyond that point. Then he started to notice every scraped knee, every bleeding nose, even the seagulls smashed beneath motorcycle wheels. All copper, all enticing, all forbidden. And now he knew he couldn't go back home with this feeling inside him. He was no longer worthy of baptism.
"For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have given it for you on the altar to make atonement for your souls, for it is the blood that makes atonement by the life. - Leviticus 17:11
"For the life of every creature is its blood: its blood is its life. Therefore I have said to the people of Israel, You shall not eat the blood of any creature, for the life of every creature is its blood. Whoever eats it shall be cut off. - Leviticus 17:14"
He could recite the verses by heart, it calmed him, kept him from committing the unthinkable, especially when the smell of copper would trickle in. Luke couldn't place it, but the hunger was creeping in again, like a disease that made him faint, weak, useless. Especially under the judging heat of the sun. Now that the sun was vanishing beneath the horizon however, he was suffering less. He still wasn't quite ready to remove his sunglasses though. There was something about his eyes that frightened him, something different, something he didn't want anyone else to see.
His arm rose and fell quickly, just a bit more and he would be done painting. Of the graffiti that had once read 'LIVE FOREVER' in big bold script, only the very last intricate swirl of the 'R' at the end remained. Once Luke had covered it, rolling his brush over the final remnants of the graffiti, he ran his wrist over his brow out of habit, to find that despite his long hours of toiling in the California sun, not a single bead of sweat had bubbled to the surface.
He furrowed his brow at what he saw to be just another sign of the differences he was trying to ignore. Luke was used to working hard, he'd had to since he was old enough to hold a hoe, but humans were meant to sweat, even when they were already accustomed to working all their lives. Humans? What was he thinking? Was it possible to be anything else but human? And yet…
Searing pain in his neck forced his hand to shoot up and grip his nape, but it was only a memory.
Luke shook his head, pushing away the thoughts. His work was done, why should he stand around absentmindedly while the night was young? Not that he would get himself into much trouble anyway. He was abstaining from just about every vice. In his mind that was the only way to atone, to clear himself of whatever lurked deep in his belly. This wasn't quite the Rumspringa he'd had in mind when he'd first started out but in the end he was grateful just to see a world he'd never seen before. He allowed himself little things like appliances, mostly TV, and eating just about anything he came across. Such a wide variety of foods, that was his favorite part.
He examined his hands, they were covered in blotches of white paint, so were his black jeans and t-shirt, by what he could feel there was some on his face as well. It didn't bother him much. Luke figured he could just take a walk to the beach and get into the water to clean up a bit, if not, there were plenty of fountains for that very thing all along the boardwalk. He wasn't very keen on making the trek back to the RV he was sharing with Izzy and his younger brother Tommy just for a quick change of clothes, when he could do that later.
He walked around the corner and into the entrance of Joe's Surf Shop with a triumphant look on his face.
"Hey! Hey! Watch it boy! You're trailing paint all over the linoleum!" Joe's booming voice caused Luke to stop in his tracks.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied, lifting his foot to look under at the paint spot covering his soles.
"No worries, luckily it ain't much, just don't move," said Joe. "Just got the floor waxed yesterday."
"I'll clean it up, sir," Luke said, his voice was extremely apologetic, he honestly hadn't meant to make a mess. "I just wanted to come in and let you know that I was finished. You can go out and look if you please." The twang in Luke's voice was subtle but it was just enough to let anyone he spoke to know that he wasn't a native Californian. In a way, his voice was almost a remembrance of a time long gone away. Like his demeanor, it made him feel almost alien.
"No need for both of those. You're just about the most polite kid to come in here, honestly. I'll get your cash and you can be on your way. I'll come to you, just stay right there."
Luke did as he was told and didn't move a muscle, waiting patiently as Joe made his way around the counter to the back. After a moment, he began to glance about the shop, studying the boards on the walls, most were a sandy brown color like the interior of a tree but others were painted in tropical finishes. They were curved at various angles and cut to various lengths but all had this fascinating sheen to them, made to repel water. There were skateboards too, mostly on the far wall, so he couldn't get as good a look at them. He planned to come back here and get one in the near future, he imagined it would make getting around a little easier at a reasonable price.
"Alright, one-hundred and fifty dollars, it's all there," Joe's voice broke Luke from his reverie.
"Oh… yes," he replied, reaching out to take the proffered bills.
"Feel free to count it before you leave but I gotta get back to work, watch your step on the way out."
Luke couldn't hold back his grin. A hundred and fifty dollars! Some might call it a measly sum but after these last few days of penny pinching, it felt like a small fortune to him. He'd buy Izzy and Tommy something to eat, it was the least he could do. Truthfully, they were the reason that things weren't all bad. In the first few days that he'd arrive in California, they had been quick to befriend him, show him the ropes, they even gave him a place to sleep - though it was just a rickety old RV, Luke was forever grateful for their hospitality. It was easier than he expected to get jobs once he was settled. He wasn't very good for anything else besides odd jobs, the kinds of things other people didn't really enjoy doing, luckily on the boardwalk there seemed to be plenty of those available.
"Oh," Luke called out before he left, "If you don't mind, I'd very much appreciate it if you refer people to me if they need anything done."
A simple thumbs up was Joe's answer and once Luke was done counting his money he stepped out the door into the night air.
It'd grown dark faster than he was expecting it too, but then again it was never truly dark on the boardwalk, not with all the colorful flashing lights at the tops of shops and the carnival displays blinking in the distance. Somehow the boardwalk always managed to become more packed after sundown than during the morning hours and that was saying something, considering Santa Carla was a major tourist destination. That was part of the reason why he chose it, after being isolated from people all his life, this was his chance to experience people of all creeds.
The sensation hit him almost as instantly as the night air had, carried on the breeze from not so far away. He'd smelled the copper for about the last half hour but the scent had steadily grown. Gradually and then suddenly his stomach was aching again. The sort of hunger that all the food in the world couldn't quell. The sort of thirst that no amount of water could quench. Before he could even register it, his feet had carried him to the source. He was jolted from his daze by a blood-curdling scream and then another and another.
"Oh sh*t! It's Tommy!"
It took several minutes before Luke could make out anything coherent through the shock and commotion. The name shook him awake, adrenaline coursed through his veins.
"He's dead!" another voice cried out.
At first there was denial. There were so many people named Tommy weren't there? There was no reason to believe that it was his Tommy, Izzy's Tommy.
"Get the police. Yo! Get Izzy!"
He could have sworn his heart had stopped right then and there and yet the blood was coursing through his ears like mad. Whooshing like waves, as though he'd submerged himself in the ocean that only lie two-hundred feet away. He ran forward, pushing past the crowd of people that had formed, straight into the bathroom. Luke stopped only when he saw the blood streaming down the dingy grey tiles that must have been white when they were first installed but had grown dirty from years of neglect.
Luke's gaze followed the trail of blood down to the body slumped over on the floor. Though the corpse was ashen and rag doll limp, there was no mistaking that it was indeed Tommy. Tommy's eyes stared out at him into the emptiness. The spark of light that'd once graced his pupils had gone. His neck was torn open into a gaping wound still oozing the tiniest stream of blood that was beginning to coagulate.
Copper.
Luke was frozen on the spot. Overwhelmed with the desire to vomit but nothing would come, only weak, dry heaving. He was ashamed and disgusted but mostly with himself, because what he felt more than anything in that moment was the itching desire to collapse to his knees and lap at the puddle beside Tommy's throat. The pull was so clear, so plain to him that it disturbed him. He felt his stomach turn. It was like he had swallowed needles and he could feel every point scraping on the way down to his intestines. Luke felt like he could die - doubled over from the ache.
He needed to escape. Get away from his friend's body. Get away from the enticing scent that made him feel like a deplorable animal. It was so difficult to pull himself away, but it began with just a few footsteps back and then he was turning and running as fast as he could. Luke didn't stop until his feet hit the sand.
After that he walked, shivering all the way down to his feet. He was stricken with fear, paralyzed from the waist up. Luke stared out at the sea, silent as the warm breeze that whipped his shoulder-length hair against his face and the curve of his neck. If he could see himself in the mirror, he was certain he'd be as pale as Tommy's corpse had been. He could still smell him on the breeze, all the way from here.
The scent of blood mixed in with another; smoke - cigarette smoke. He heard footsteps coming toward him, drawing closer. Luke wanted to turn and shout at whoever was there and tell them to go away. But his muscles wouldn't respond and the words refused to form.
Sirens rang out in the distance, drowning out the screams. To Luke it was like they were chiming in his ears. His vision went blurry, doubled, spreading out so wide that there were two crescent moons perched in the sky. Luke wrapped his arms around his belly and bent forward, he coughed and tears trickled over his cheeks. There came another cough and another, until finally, he vomited.
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