Chapter 1
The thing with growing up mixed and Catholic in the nineties...? You had to do whatever your parents told you to do.
Whether you were five or fifty-five, obey thy mother and father was a verse you had to live by or you'd be struck down by lightning, burn in the pits of hell, or be struck by just plain guilt. Either way, you would pay the price if you didn't. According to ms. Veronica Palmer, it was a must to obey. It said so in the good book, as she'd often point out.
To this day it was still being taught in Sunday school and preached about in church. Obedience was one of the corner stones ensured to produce the perfect child; not some heathen who drank, smoked and grind on strange men in night clubs. Of course not! No child of Veronica's would ever be caught dead in a place like that... Not unless she told them to be there, of course.
As expected, the Palmer household was just like any Catholic family back then and still was. As a way to remind everyone who was in charge, that particular bible verse- obey thy father and mother- was printed and framed and was hung in every room in the Palmer residence. After the separation-their father leaving their mother for a younger woman-those picture frames were taken down and the father part of that quote was ripped out and a bold only was slapped on in its place. For the Palmer's, that verse now read: obey thy mother, and thy mother only. In every room of the house... Even the bathrooms. Not once had any of Veronica's kids left the toilet seat up while that picture frame was right across from the toilet pressuring them to obey. Guess it did its job.
To this day, at age twenty-eight, and living by herself-- a few blocks away from her mother-- Xianna was still being haunted by that verse.
"It is your duty to do this." Veronica Palmer stated with sardonic ordinance. Her hard eyes shone from beneath the broad rim of her signature church hat-- a black one with a face-net and a feather tucked in the side. It made her look the epitome of righteousness, a woman of faith. It was probably the reason she wore it so often. Fear god, and fear me!
It was no problem for Xia to get the message despite the pounding of some type of hedonistic music playing obnoxiously loud in the room.
She clutched her trusty bible tighter to her chest and pretend she wasn't trembling. Everywhere she looked she either saw people in different stages of intoxication or undress.
To her right she witnessed what looked like a mini orgy in a darkened corner, a man mounting a half-naked female while his friend groped her, thankfully still covered, chest.
Xia blushed scarlet and looked back to her mom, pleading with her eyes. This place made her uncomfortable.
To her this felt like the den of the devil. They shouldn't be here. Surely there must be other less crude places to spread the holy word. She felt like the longer she stayed in here the more corrupt she was becoming, ignorance is bliss and all that. She was not stuck-up by any mean, it was that certain things made her uneasy...promiscuity being one of them.
"Mother, couldn't we go somewhere else? It doesn't seem like these people would appreciate being interrupted..."
Veronica direct her shrewd gaze at Xia and it made her shake slightly with apprehension. She would be shown no mercy today, that she knew.
"You think we should minister only to those who want to hear it? It is not only those who know the good lord that we must spread the word to, for they have already heard it so why tell them again?" She gripped Xia's fist that held on for dear life unto her Bible. "We must let the ungodly see the error of their ways. That is our duty. Your duty."
Veronica pulled away then. "Now go, chose someone to spread the word to, let it infect their lives and let them know the path they are on is corrupt."
Probably not a good idea to use infect when talking about the holy word. It made it sound like it was a disease or something. Of course, Xia didn't say this to her mother, Veronica's face was set in that way it does when she would not take insolence from her daughter. Every time her mother wore that look it meant things weren't going to go well for Xia. This time was no different.
What her mother was telling her to do was basically a breach of privacy. But that was Xia's opinion. She might not agree that entering into a bar to minister to a bunch of drunk people was right- they probably won't even remember what was ministered to them by the next morning anyway. And that was if they even sat down and allowed her to say what she had to.
"But mother-"
"Your duty, Xianna!"
Xia sighed. When her mother says minister to the ungodly and the drunk, then minister she would have to. Veronica Palmer didn't do anything halfway. When she set her mind out to do something, she did it and then some. This week was spreading the word to those who need it, and that for Veronica meant going into seedy communities and brothels wielding her Bible. Now she was teaching Xia how to as well.
This was the first stop. A well-known street bar. The faster Xia got this over with, the better. She looked around again. Still unsure. "Umm, where- where should I start?" There were so many people. How would she know who needed the word? Well, that was a stupid question, if one was in a bar drinking their night away then obviously they needed it.
Veronica glanced around too, assessing the patrons who'd come in to relax after a day of work, or whatever. "There!" She pointed to the broad back of a male at the bar. He seemed to be talking to a female while drinking something... A beer, maybe? She couldn't really tell because this place was so thick with some kind of smoke wafting from the small dance floor in the middle.
"He seems to need the word instilled in him."
Instilled in him? Xia wasn't sure she could work such a miracle. She didn't want to go up to him to begin with. He looked so big and imposing, all muscles and darkness. He'd probably just swat her away with one of his big, dinner plate hands like an annoying fly as soon as she opened her mouth.
Xia trembled a little harder. "But mother, he looks like a thug. What if he hits me?"
"Oh for the love of-" Veronica glared at her daughter. "Stop being such a sniveling wuss and do what I tell you! You can't be a minister if you don't break out of your shell. Stop being so afraid all the time."
"But-"
"No buts. While you are here worrying about your safety the devil is working to get more souls sent into the pit of hell. You must work to get back those souls for the lord!"
But there were other less threatening people she could talk to, like that guy in the middle with his head resting on his hands on the table he was sitting at.
Xia had a sneaking suspicion that Veronica chose the guy at the bar in particular because he was most likely talking his way into the girl's undies. It must have brought back old wounds to the surface, wounds that had to do with dad cheating on her with countless other women in bars like this one. The reason she turned all her energy to the church and to directing Xia's life.
Again Xia didn't say anything.
"Okay..."
"Good." Her mother didn't smile, just nodded stiffly. "I'll be here watching."
"What? You're not coming with me?"
Veronica looked incredulous. "Why would I? You need to do things on your own you know. I won't always be there to hold your hand."
Now that was uncalled for. To be honest, sometimes she wished her mother would stop trying to hold her hand, so to speak, and leave her alone. Funny, now she chose to let go.
Xianna squared her shoulders and turned stiffly in the direction of the bar and the back of the big man in the red shirt. Here she goes. Still gripping her Bible closer to her galloping heart, her sensible church heels clicked soundlessly, bringing her closer.
