The Cultist's Wife by BJ Sikes

Author:BJ Sikes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: motherhood, Independence, Occult, Bahamas, Sacrifice, Adultery, Betrayal, Escape, monster
Publisher: BJ Sikes
Published: 2024-02-06T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 29

Clara drifted down the path towards her hut, her mind lost in a fog after her cleansing session with Ward. The afternoon with him had passed by in a blink, leaving a sense of euphoria. He had promised an enlightening activity but she would first have to rise above physical abasement. She wasn't exactly sure what had transpired during the session. She remembered kneeling and his eyes, boring into her from above.

A bright green bird fluttered past, startling her out of her reverie. Her clothes were covered in mud and rotten fruit juice and she smelled of sweat. What exactly had happened? She would need to wash and change her clothes before dinner. That would mean heating water. Which would mean building a fire. A wave of exhaustion hit her but she couldn't rest while stinking and dirty. Her euphoria evaporated. She looked around the clearing. The children were nowhere to be found. Reginald appeared to have recovered from whatever ailment he had come down with. Elsinoe had been quite truculent the evening before about how she had nursed her brother. Clara had been too tired to rebuke her impertinence.

Clara gathered her wash cloth and towel with some clean clothes, then put them down on her cot with a sigh. The fire needed to be started first and then water. Couldn't Theophilus even get them a house with a stove or some other way to heat water without resorting to an open fire on the ground? At the thought of her husband, the image of him and Lydia walking off together that morning rose in her mind and red-hot anger filled her. Clara slammed her hand against the door jamb of the little hut, making the structure shake. She stamped out to the fire pit and saw wood in it, in preparation for a fire. She sighed with relief. She had no clue how to prepare a fire so that it would burn without smoking. An actual pot sat on one of the rocks surrounding the fire pit. It hadn't been there that morning. It would do well enough to boil water in. There was even one of those round, green gourds full of water on the ground. She picked up the gourd and poured water into the pot but the pot slipped to one side and the water ran on to the ground, sinking into the sand. Clara cursed under her breath. Now she was going to have to fetch water. She cast a longing look at the hut. Her astrology books were piled under her cot but she hadn't had a chance to cast a horoscope since arriving on this wretched island. Perhaps the stars were not favourable for this venture.

“Mars must be opposing the Sun,” she muttered.

She picked up the empty gourd and trudged along the path towards the well. The heat oppressed her and mosquitoes buzzed around her face. She slapped at them and pushed tendrils of hair off her sweaty forehead. Children's voices drifted along the path towards her.

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