[Idol Mini] Week Six: Not this path.

[strryeyedgrrl]

When she met him, Whistle was a member of the clergy. They had been set up on a blind date by a mutual friend and spent an afternoon sitting along the waterfront, coffees in hand, talking about all the things that made them tick as human beings. Internally, she'd considered ending the date early. Dating (let alone marrying) a "churchy guy" wasn't exactly on her bucket list of things to do with her life, but she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his. They were a dark shade of blue that reminded her of the Sound on cloudy days. Not entirely black, not quite blue, and deep enough to be dangerous.

Yet there he was, a man of God, explaining his position as a Christian pacifist, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something about those words felt temporary. For as long as she could remember, she always felt like a wind was about to change behind her. She felt the same way about Whistle. In the years that followed - and the changes that came at them so rapid-fire that it made her head spin - she clung to the idea that maybe they'd come back around to the beginning. Maybe his belief in a higher power would save them.

She wasn't a religious person herself. In fact, if she were to choose a position to take on the matter, she'd probably consider herself an agnostic atheist. She didn't care that she didn't know or care enough to firmly say it one way or another. Still, she appreciated that it made him happy and that he would never have tried to bring her into the proverbial fold if she hadn't expressed an interest. A few weeks before the first contact, their wedding was held in the field behind his church. It wasn't quite holy, but it was close enough to the home of his faith that it worked for them both. When the children were born, under the looming threat of the Empire, they were brought to the church for their blessings. Genevieve didn't mind. They'd already discussed that they would let the children take their own paths, different or the same, as they grew and learned about the universe around them. 

In the meantime, though, that small building with the overgrown field behind it, with walls that barely kept out the winter drafts - it was all their increasingly isolated community had. As the intentions of the Empire became more explicit, the church became a beacon of false security. Many of them knew that the weakened planks couldn't keep out the war, but when they were inside, they could pretend. Whistle would speak words of hope from the pulpit, and the children would play.

She didn't believe in his god, but she believed in him.

By the time Polly had entered the world, though, it was clear to her that Whistle was going through the motions. What news they received told tales of suffering - starvation, disease, heavy losses in fighting. As the Empire made its way into governance, restrictions were placed on different demographics. Conquered nations saw their citizens pressed into service. Rights were stripped. Whistle began to speak weightier words from the front of the church, hedging away from his denomination's stance of pacifism. In private, he told her of his growing anger at the church leadership's inaction. He wondered if they were collaborating with the Empire.

He didn't want to wait to find out.

The local rebellion began in the basement of the church. At first, it was just Whistle, Genevieve (with Polly at her breast and Alfie asleep at her feet), and a small group of their neighbors and friends. Fighting had not yet reached their small wooded community, but they could hear sounds in the distance. They were sounds they used to attribute to deer hunters, but they knew better now. It was war - and it was growing closer. They set to work preparing themselves and reaching out to the other small mountain communities near them to form deeper alliances.

Eventually, and they would never know who reported their activities to church leadership, Whistle was defrocked. In his last sermon before the congregation, he admitted tearfully that he no longer believed in a deity that would allow the kinds of suffering to proliferate under Empire control. Genevieve already knew this - secret words shared between them in the dark of night, holding each other close under the duvet. Still, her eyes misted as he stepped down from behind the podium. She wasn't alone - she heard noses sniffling amidst the smattering of applause. Not everyone agreed with Whistle, but she also knew that many did.

Enough so that their subversive activities started to feel perilous as time dragged on.

The church closed down after Whistle was removed. Church leadership had spoken of tearing down the structure and selling the land, but the markets were in such disarray that this would never come to fruition. The building sat empty for months before someone in their numbers figured out that the locks had never been changed, and no one had thought to confiscate copies of keys from past parish leadership. Though there was no electricity and no water, they retook the church and resumed their work. If the person who'd reported Whistle to the church was still among them - and many people from their community had begun to migrate away - there was never another report from within. Until the end, they were never found out.

At least, they thought.

Later, they brought the bodies of her children there to be buried in the same field where she'd pledged forever to their father. 

She wished she could get up from the wheelchair that David, one of her neighbors, pushed towards that overgrown patch of land. She wanted to put one foot in front of the other and walk into the grass as confidently as she had that day. Instead, the wheels of the chair, borrowed from another neighbor, drove a path through the waving grass. A light wind had kicked up, the sky was an unassuming shade of grey, and rain clouds threatened to unleash on them at any moment. She instinctively wrapped her arms around her now empty, slowly disappearing stomach. 

Whistle wasn't here to stand before the three graves and speak words of comfort or even action. One of their friends, Luke, did his best. His arm was bandaged from the elbow to his shoulder, a burn wound he'd received as he'd pulled his elderly mother from their destroyed home.

She wasn't listening, though. Ignoring David's protests as she stood on uncertain legs, she took two steps forward - all that her body would allow, but it was enough.

She dropped to her knees in front of the graves and lay on the ground just as the sky opened up.


I don't know if Empire is the right word for what I'm going for here - it evokes too much of a Star Wars vibe for me and I'm not trying to build a story in that landscape. It's the best word I have it for now, though, so that's what it's gonna be as a placeholder. I know I don't comment much, but the feedback on my last entry was incredible - I had no idea how many people would wonder why Gen and the kids had been targeted. Then I remembered that the story's in my head and I've been the only one living it on repeat. I hope this gives at least a little nudge of an answer.

Comments

[muchtooarrogant]

Yes, for me at least, this installment did a great job of providing the background to understand what happened to Gen and her kids.

Just an idea, but I wonder if giving the empire a specific name would help to clue readers in that this story isn't part of the Star Wars universe?

Very interested to read more of this story.

Dan

[strryeyedgrrl]

I think this is what I'm going to chew on during this voting period. Admittedly, the placeholder exists entirely due to executive dysfunction and not being able to progress with a task if I feel like something's not quite right. In my working on getting past that, I stuck the placeholder of "Empire" so I could move on with the story.

But now I have time to noodle, so I shall. Thanks for confirming that the vibe was off. :D

[erulissedances]

I have to agree with much too arrogant.. The use of The Empire is confusing and brings strong feelings of Star Wars. I'm sure there are other terms that could be used that would eliminate that association.

I loved the story, however - would love more details and depth, but it's a great scene and I want to read more about these characters.

- Erulisse (one L)

[swirlsofpurple]

Love that you've continued from your previous piece, it expands on it beautifully.

Re your note, Empire evokes a Star Wars vibe for me too, but I think that you've done more than enough here that it's easy to understand that this isn't that.

[rayaso]

This was a wonderful tale. I loved "She didn't believe in his god, but she believed in him." I wasn't bothered by the use of the Empire and it didn't make me think of Star Wars. For me, at least, Star Wars has not co-opted the word.

[mollywheezy]

I agree with Rayaso that I didn't get a Star Wars vibe from this and thought "Empire" was fine. Of course, if you decide to call it something else that will be fine, too. Excellent job of providing backstory and I love your character of Whistle. You've done a great job making him very complex and real.

[halfshellvenus]

This did a great job giving us the backstory of who "Whistle" had been, and why his children might have been targeted.

There's such loss and sorrow here, such senseless tragedy both for Whistle and for the children. You've shown that very well.

[murielle]

Every now and then I read something among the Idol entries that stays with me forever. I think this is one that will not just stay with me but will haunt me.

Very well done! ❤❤❤

[static_abyss]

I also didn't think Star Wars. I got totalitarian society instead. Like an entity/government trying to force society to their way of thinking. That's the vibe I got. That said, I love Genevieve and her story.