Father Nathaniel Blackadder steeled himself for the task ahead. His faith in the Lord was strong but not quite strong enough to overcome his fear. With a pounding heart and trembling hands, he pulled on his overcoat and donned his hat.
He grabbed the wooden cross, purpose-built for this evening, kissed it before slipping it into a coat pocket. Finally, he picked up his precious King James Version and kissed this too. Now, he was ready.
After muttering a last minute prayer, Nathaniel marched down the aisle of the small church and out of the main door. The building was on the crest of a hillock. He took a moment look over the small township of Brimstone below. Lacking in stature it may be but he had come here to minister to its people: it was his sacred duty to safeguard their souls. The Devil was alive and well in these parts and so far, to his lamentable shame, he had had little success driving him out. Tonight that would change.
Nathaniel strode with purpose down into Brimstone. To quell the fear in his heart he quoted the twenty third Psalm: “The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me lie down in green pastures...” not the greenest of pastures he mused, “...he leadest me beside still waters. He restorest my soul. He leadeth me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.”
“Good evening to you Father.”
Nathaniel had not noticed... it took him a few moments to remember the shabby man’s name... ah yes Joseph, a farm labourer, if memory served, with a bad habit of losing his money at the card table or squandering it on prostitutes. Sadly, Joseph was not atypical of Brimstone’s men. The Lord had not given a light burden to his servant.
“Good evening Joseph. It has been far too long since we saw you in church. Can I count on your presence on Sunday?”
“Ah well you see, Father,” said Joseph, “I would, you know I would but... erm... well you know how it is, someone has to be out there keepin’ a-watch for wolves.”
“Ain’t no wolves in these parts for many a month,” challenged the Father.
“Well there wouldn’t be would there,” responded Joseph, “on account of me doin’ such a good job keepin’ ‘em away.”
“I’m sure the Lord recognises, you’re doin’ a mighty fine job.” Nathaniel chose not to press the man any further on his lies. There was more important work to do: he had his own protecting to do from a diabolical “wolf”.
He resumed the recital as he walked, feeling less fearful after his encounter with Joseph. This poor wretch had highlighted what was a stake; he dared not allow his own weakness to bring about failure. “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff they comfort me...” cross and Bible more like he amended the lines in his head, clutching his King James Version a little more tightly to his chest. He continued out loud: “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of my enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.” He repeated the last line: “I shall dwell in the House of the Lord forever...” just as he arrived at the foot of the steps leading to Delilah’s, Brimstone’s shame, Brimstone’s house of ill-repute, where Satan lead his flock into temptation. It was a sign. The Lord and his one true son, Jesus Christ, were with him.
Nathaniel climbed the steps and passed through the doorway. He prided himself on keeping his modest church clean, tidy and orderly; cleanliness was next to Godliness after all. The stench of the saloon assaulted his nostrils: the lingering tobacco mixed with the stale sweat of men, seasoned with the floral scent of cheap perfume and there was the ever-present under-scent of vomit, which would get stronger as the evening wore on.
“Good evening Father Blackadder.” John West was stood in his usual place by the door. “Good to see you again. Charlotte’s over there on the table with the faro players.”
West’s words stung. That Jezebel, she had led him astray. He had been weak; now there was no need to ask for Charlotte, West had become accustomed to his visits. Men have needs - that much is true - but he was a man of the cloth and should be above such things and he was not or rather had not been.
West winked at him, “...but I am sure she will see to you right away.”
“Yes, yes thank you,” murmured Nathaniel. It was at this moment that God’s plan became clear: God had allowed him to fall into temptation to set him on the path that led to tonight. He truly was all seeing. “If you would be good enough...” he left the sentence trailing as he indicated towards Charlotte who was busy congratulating someone on a win. Seeing her laugh and watching her plant a kiss on the man’s cheek aroused Nathaniel’s lust.
“Of course,” said West bringing Nathaniel back to himself, “perhaps you should wait by the bar. I’m sure Delilah will entertain you ’til Charlotte makes herself available.” He gave the Bible clutched to Nathaniel’s chest a short quizzical look but chose to hold his peace.
Nathaniel walked across the room, casting a disapproving eye towards the men gambling but engrossed in their game and distracted by Charlotte they did not even notice him. The sawdust underfoot was still relatively fresh. He stood next to Delilah who was sat at her usual place keeping an eye on the saloon and her girls as she did every evening.
“Jolene.” Nathaniel chose to acknowledge her with her given name rather than her working one.
“Father,” she replied, smiling sweetly. Her hand went up to the charm that hung on a necklace in her cleavage and toyed with it. The movement drew attention to her bosom, shamelessly flaunted by her low cut dress.
The Devil, he thought, He tempts me to weaken my resolve but the Lord is with me.
His attention returned to her face. Of all the girls who worked here, Nathaniel considered Jolene to be the most beautiful. She was a redhead with porcelain skin and delicate features marred only by... Nathaniel had never quite been able to put his finger on it. There was something about her, a darkness. Was it world-weariness, tiredness or the shadow of the Devil over her soul? “I trust business is good this evening?”
“God willing it’ll be a good night with no trouble.” She maintained that smile, her eyes sparkled like two emeralds.
Inwardly, he raged: How dare she use the words “God Willing”, but he kept his composure. “What know thee of what God wills when thou never visit his house?”
“You are right, of course, Father,” she said, that seductive smile not even for a moment slipping from her lips. “But surely, his high and mightiness does not miss a small-time madame such as myself?”
She was taunting him; Nathaniel knew this all too well. “God loves all of his children, even those who have strayed from the path of righteousness.”
“That is as may be,” said Jolene, “Ah, Charlotte is here. Will you be plying your trade as she plies hers?” Her gaze dropped for a moment to the Bible clutched to Nathaniel’s chest.
He had allowed a mere harlot mock him but it took it; his mission was more important than her barbed words. “Charlotte”, he said, his hand dropping to his pocket to check on the cross in there.
“Father Nathaniel,” said Charlotte, “how good to see you again. I do so enjoy our time together.” Her face was rounder than Jolene’s and she carried an air of innocence. It was obviously fake, but it had originally drawn Nathaniel to her. Her hand found a loose strand of her dark hair and she played with it teasingly. “Would you like me to wait for you upstairs.” The look on her face said that butter would not melt but no one was fooled.
“Yes, yes, you do that.” Nathaniel had to call on his inner resolve to keep his base feelings under control.
As Charlotte set off upstairs, Nathaniel put ten dollars into Jolene’s delicate hand. He called over the barman. “Josiah, whiskey, the good stuff.”
Josiah put a shot glass on the bar before Nathaniel and filled it. Nathaniel downed it and considered second but thought better of it. He flipped a dime to Josiah who snatched it out of the air, saying, “Enjoy your evening, Father.”
Nathaniel was unable to make eye contact with the barman. Josiah Wise was one of the regulars every Sunday morning; he rarely missed a service. He was a good man. Nathaniel did not need to look at him to see the disapproval in the man’s eyes.
Jolene put a hand out and stopped Nathaniel as he walked passed. “You sound nervous, Father?”
His heart skipped a beat. Was she on to him? He said a silent prayer beseeching the Lord for strength. There was an awkward silence as he found his gaze locked into her green eyes. Part of him wished that he had the forty dollars she charged, perhaps it was better he did not. “Age is catching up with me. I ain’t the man I was.”
She laughed, “If Charlotte can’t get you going, no one can...” punctuating her words with a wink.
Nathaniel sidled away and climbed the upstairs. The way was all too familiar, he reflected bitterly. Was that Josiah’s cold, hard glare he could feel on his back with each step or was it Jolene’s mocking stare? After he had succeeded in his mission he would be able to look Josiah in the eye on Sunday with pride and Jolene would learn her place.
He walked straight towards Charlotte’s boudoir and tapped on the door. “Charlotte.”
“Come in,” came Charlotte’s reply, “I am ready for you.”
Nathaniel muttered a last minute prayer: “Lord have mercy. Christ have mercy,” and opened the door.
# # #
Charlotte was sprawled out on a chaise longue dressed in a thin negligee, a garment that did nothing to guard a woman’s modesty, not that Charlotte had any to guard. It was was a sight all too familiar to Nathaniel. He reminded himself that his previous weakness was all part of God’s plan.
He pushed the door to and retrieved the cross in his pocket.
Charlotte giggled, “Are you going to commit... blasphemy... with that?” She lifted one leg slightly and rested a hand on her raised knee.
Nathaniel felt his gorge rise but suppressed it, the Devil was working his tricks, nothing more. He held up the cross and began reciting the words he had spent the last week memorising: “In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord and God, and the Power in the holy authority of His ministry, I command the Devil to leave this creature of God.”
“What are you doing?” Charlotte asked, confused.
Nathaniel repeated the litany, this time with more assertion.
“Oh it is the...” she giggled, mischief danced in her eyes, “...game!” Her eyes opened wide and she grinned with delight. She lifted her foot and rested it on the back of the chaise longue.
Nathaniel did his best to ignore the sexual creature before him and continued: “God works through me, and through me, His power scatters His enemies. Behold the cross of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ and tremble.”
Finding this game tiresome, Charlotte got off the chaise longue and sauntered towards the Father with an exaggerated movement of her hips.
Nathaniel held the cross up right before Charlotte’s face. “Back, back I say. Back I command you! The most high God commands you. Back!”
Charlotte pushed the cross out of the way. “Can we just get on with what you paid for? I don’t like this game. It’s boring.”
“Touch not the holy cross, unclean beast.” Nathaniel was unaware he was shouting.
“Look,” said Charlotte, making no attempt to hide her impatience, “if you don’t want me there are men out there with money who do.” She reached for the buckle on his belt.
Nathaniel rammed the cross into Charlotte’s face and continued: “The sacred cross commands you. Its touch will burn...” He hesitated.
Charlotte backed off, her face red with fury: “What the Hell are you doing?”
“The cross...” Nathaniel looked at the cross, at Charlotte and back at the cross.
“What did you think was going to happen?” Taking advantage of the priest’s confusion, she snatched the cross from his hand. “It is just two pieces of wood stuck together. What is wrong with you?” Nathaniel had never seen Charlotte angry before. The emotion seemed alien on her.
“How can a vessel of the Devil touch such a holy object without burning and blistering, without even feeling pain?”
“What?”
“You tasted my blood,” Nathaniel held up his Bible to ward her off, “you are unclean, infested by the Evil of Satan. I must drive him out.”
“Get out!”
“Not until...”
“Get out!” She screamed the words. “And don’t come back!”
There was a knock at the door. “You all right Charlotte?”
Nathaniel realised at once his error: he had neglected to lock the door. It opened and Bonnie entered the room.
“This is none of your concern, Bonny. This is legitimate church business.” Nathaniel tried to push Bonnie out of the room but she proved as immobile as a stone wall. Bonny was the cockiest of the harlots at Delilah’s and if she were tainted like Charlotte, Nathaniel feared she would be the most difficult to save. With one hard shove, she sent Nathaniel sprawling backwards. While he regained his feet Bonnie closed the door.
“Right,” said Bonnie, the evil glare that she fixed on Nathaniel made his stomach churn. “Let’s sort this out shall we?”
Nathaniel held up his Bible and restarted his litany: “In the name of Jesus...”
Bonnie snatched the Bible from Nathaniel’s hand and threw it onto the floor.
“You don’t scare me,” said Nathaniel less convincingly than he would have liked, “Demon, I shall drive you out. In the name of...”
Bonnie grabbed Nathaniel by the crotch and lifted him several inches off of the floor. It took great effort on his part not to scream. He tried to punch Bonnie in the face but his l strength and coordination were gone. With gritted teeth, he struggled but her grip was like a vice. Her face went blurred as tears filled his eyes. He grabbed hold of Bonnie but struggled to gain purchase.
All sense of time was lost to him so he had no idea how long Bonnie held him when she finally released him. He crumpled to the ground and curled up into a ball nursing his violated testicles. No ordinary woman could have done that to him. Bonnie had unnatural strength, demonic strength.
Through his whimpering Nathaniel heard Charlotte’s voice, ”We’ll have to kill him. He’s a threat. He knows or has guessed too much.”
Bonnie’s reply was punctuated with a kick in his shins, “Maybe but the Sheriff will investigate and we don’t want the mutton shunter poking his nose where it ain’t wanted.” She crouched down and looked down at her victim who could do nothing more than look back at her. “I think I may have a better idea.” Nathaniel did not like the stern look on her face. “Go and get Faith and Vanessa.” So there are four of them thought Nathaniel. Vanessa? Poor Josiah. Everyone knew Josiah was carrying a torch for Vanessa. He pictured the man’s friendly face, his neat goatee and moustache, and cheeky smile. Nathaniel wondered how many other men had fallen under their demonic spell and how many more would because of his failure.
He tried to get back to his feet but a swift kick in the guts put paid to that idea. “You weren’t thinkin’ of leavin’ where ya?”
“Please God, have mercy for your servant.”
Bonnie laughed, “Your God ain’t here to help you.”
There it was again: that stern expression on her face. Nathaniel caught sight of his cross on the floor and thought about reaching out for it but then remembered how ineffective it had been.
Bonnie must have seen him looking at it; she said, “Oh you want this little trinket?” She kicked it over to him. “Here have it, for what good it will do you.”
While she gloated, Nathaniel managed to sit himself upright.
“You know what?” She kicked over his precious Bible, “Have this as well. Keep ya occupied while we wait for the others.”
Even if he wanted to read the good book, there was no time because Charlotte was back in the room followed closely by Faith and Vanessa. Bonnie said, “Help me get him on the bed and tie him down..”
Nathaniel found himself spreadeagled on the bed, helpless and at the mercy of the four women. The last thing he saw was the four girls descending on him before he lost consciousness.
# # #
Nathaniel came to downstairs in the saloon. It must have been late at night because it was after hours. He saw Bonnie, Charlotte, Faith and Vanessa, and they had been joined by Jolene. So she was one of them, too.
Every muscle in his body ached and had a salty and metallic taste in his mouth. He could not recall feeling this bad before. “What’ve you done to me?” He put a hand to his throbbing head. “Poison?”
He saw the pretty face of Jolene. She was smiling that sweet, seductive smile of hers. “Father Blackadder.” Her voice was flat and lacked emotion.
“What have you...” Nathaniel’s voice cracked. His throat was sore. It felt like needles pricking it.
“Shush,” said Jolene, “you are still very weak. You attacked one of my sisters. We cannot allow that. To make you behave, my sisters took it on themselves to make you their… brother.”
“No!”
“Yes.”
“No!” The word was agony, Nathaniel felt like his throat was on fire.
“You will do as my sisters command. You will obey them. You will have no choice. For the rest of your days on Earth, you will be their thrall.”
Nathaniel shook his head and was rewarded with excruciating pain. “Their thrall” the two words sank in. Jolene was not one of them but she was in league with them. Was she their thrall too?
“As I said, you are very weak. Faith and Vanessa will take you home. You must get some rest. You need time to adapt.” Jolene reached out. Nathaniel tried to follow the course of her hand but it hurt his eyes too much. “Here,” she said. There was kindness in her voice and there was that sweet smile of hers. He not could recall her speaking so warmly to him before. In her hand was his King James Version. He accepted it from her with a trembling hand.
It was then that he saw it. Devoid of shame he stared at her bosom. His eye caught the light reflecting off of the charm on her necklace as a swung freely as she leaned forward but his attention returned to her breasts. Far too much of the porcelain white mounds were on display. He looked and yet he felt nothing. His testicles ached. Nathaniel wondered if Bonnie had damaged him permanently.
“Now,” snapped Jolene, “if you have finished admiring my chest, we can get to the business at hand. My sisters will talk to you. You will find yourself compelled to obey them. Don’t fight it. You won’t, can’t win. After you’ve had your little chat, Faith and Vanessa will take you home. Like I said, I suggest you get some rest.”
Jolene stood and left. Bonnie, Charlotte, Faith and Vanessa formed a semi-circle before him. blocking his view of the departing madame.
“Father Blackadder,” it was Bonnie speaking. By reflex action, he moved his free hand to protect his crotch. She laughed, “I shouldn’t worry about that if I were you. You won’t be needing it. Why so puzzled?” She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “It doesn’t work anymore now you are one of us.”
Nathaniel gulped and immediately regretted it, yelping in pain.
“Now to business,” said Bonnie, her tone very stern and authoritative, “You need to understand your situation. Get off your big, fat, ugly ass and kiss Charlotte’s shoes.”
Nathaniel was already on his knees bending down before he knew what was happening. He tried to speak, to utter a prayer, to draw strength from his faith and devotion but it was useless. His best efforts to resist did little to slow him down and his lips touched shoe leather.
The four women laughed and there was nothing he could do about it.
# # #
Father Nathaniel Blackadder woke up on his bed, still in his overcoat but his hat was nowhere to be seen. He had had a terrible night’s sleep. He felt far from refreshed: little wonder after the nightmares. With most dreams, the memory faded shortly after waking but these they stuck. The memory of the harlots at the saloon was foremost in his mind. He saw their faces. He heard their voices. It was like they were there with him inside his head. He could see the four of them: Charlotte with her faux-innocent smile, Faiths’s haughtiness, Vanessa at her most playful and Bonnie, she was dominant and Nathaniel was afraid.
“Begone. Leave me be.” He could even smell their cheap perfume.
He rolled off the bed and staggered over to the bowl of water he kept to freshen his face in the morning. He did not like the look of it. He wondered how long he had been asleep. A walk to the well to draw some fresh water would do him good.
Outside it was still dark. No matter, he threw away the dirty water and pressed on to the well. He released the bucket and then hauled it back up. It seemed harder than normal. Perhaps he had a malady, doubtless the Devil’s work to keep him from his holy mission.
The cold water felt good on his face. It felt fresh and yet was un-invigorating. He gulped some of it down to slake his thirst. The water went down easily and into his belly but it made no difference. He still felt the same undiminished thirst, that and hunger. It was not the usual hunger a man might feel. There were no pangs in his stomach; it was more like a longing for nourishment, a craving.
Back in his house, he went into the kitchen. He found some stale bread and hard cheese. Nibbling on them did nothing for him, not even a feeling of nausea.
Nathaniel dropped to his knees, put his hands together and looked up to the ceiling. “Heavenly Father, look down on thy poor servant. I know I am weak, please fill me with Thy strength. Guide me now so that I might find my way out of the darkness and into Thy light.”
His prayer solicited no response. He wandered back outside. “What am I to do?” He shouted up at the sky. His reply came in the form of the barking of a dog. It was coming from the direction of Joshua’s hut. The old gravedigger kept a dog both for company and to frighten off anyone or anything that might disturb Boot Hill’s graves at night. Some of the townsfolk thought the animal was part wolf.
Nathaniel saw it surprisingly clearly; he could smell it too. He must have woken the animal. The dog knew him therefore when it recognised him it should quieten down. He crept forward holding out his hand. “Quiet boy, it's only me, quiet boy.” The dog did stop barking but it held its position and growled. “Easy boy. No need to get excited. It’s only me.”
The two of them stood there, facing each other staring at each other in some kind of bizarre standoff. Nathaniel looked at the dog. His nostrils were full of its scent. He could sense the dog was full of life. Was this the sign the Lord had sent to him?
He crouched down, the craving grew stronger within him, almost overwhelming. “Here dog. Come here to Father Blackadder. Here dog. I shalt hurt thee not.”
Also in the Brimstone series: "Jolene White", "Hubert Alderman", "Bonnie" "Bartholomew Carlisle", "Charlotte" and "Ingrid Baxter.
