Taking a deep breath, I refastened the gown’s top buttons and undid the ones starting at the bottom. Sara’s exposed skin dotted with goose bumps as I laid the fabric of her nightgown aside. With the blankets down, she was now visible from her toes to past her navel. All the right parts were covered. No doubt in the dark, the world outside The Light, she’d worn less on a beach than what she wore now as panties. That didn’t matter. When she’d been in the dark she hadn’t been my wife. Now she was, and having Newton’s eyes on her pissed me off.
I held my tongue and concentrated on her cast. The damn thing went halfway up her left thigh. Since only her tibia was broken, the cast could easily have stopped below her knee. It was one more piece of the psychological warfare, part of the plan to wear her down, take away her abilities, and make her dependent. The more physical limitations she endured, the easier it was to instill psychological limitations.
The Light had a job, a calling. Its original followers had been predominantly male. Father Gabriel’s teachings originated from fundamentalist roots. Women were appreciated for the strength through which they fulfilled their duties—and because men had needs. According to Father Gabriel’s teachings, those needs were best served by wives. While some women found their way to The Light of their own volition, others—like Sara—were acquired. The acquisition and indoctrination process was in a continual state of revision. Each case was gauged by its success or failure. Though the entire community participated in the acquisition, ultimately it was the participants in each acquisition who were responsible for the outcome. In our case that would be Sara and me. Because I was her husband, my role was infinitely important. The only road to my continued success within The Light was through her.
I took Sara’s hand again in mine. We will not fail. The mantra repeated like a chant in the recesses of my mind. I’d witnessed failure, and I’d labored too long to allow that to be my end. Though Sara’s hand trembled, I refused to let emotion cloud my objective. We would succeed.
“Squeeze your husband’s hand when I touch a place that hurts.”
The asshole went for the epicenter, directly above the broken ribs. As he did, Sara moaned and squeezed with all her might, before clamping her lips tightly together.
“There,” I said, looking up to the doctor’s raised brows.
“You broke at least one rib in your accident,” he explained.
Her lip was back between her teeth as she nodded her understanding.
“There isn’t much that can be done. We’ll have to wait. They’ll heal in time. Now what about here?” The doctor continued his exercise until he’d discussed her broken ribs, broken leg, and possible concussion. He explained that her cheek had hit the steering wheel of the truck. If she could have seen herself in a mirror, she’d have known that wasn’t the case, but she seemed to take the doctor at his word. Touching her tender throat, he asked again if she had pain. Her squeeze was softer than before.
“Does that mean that it doesn’t hurt there as much as before?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I believe you’ll be able to talk within a day or two,” Dr. Newton said. “Tomorrow or Friday we’ll remove this cast and set a new one that’ll allow you to walk. Your bone was broken, but luckily not severely. It didn’t break the skin. That’ll help with your recovery.”
“What about food and drink?” I asked.
“How are you feeling now?” he asked her. “Did you handle the lunch OK?”
She nodded.
“Another day of bland and then we’ll reevaluate.”
“I want to take her home.” I’d agreed to accept the Commission’s and Father Gabriel’s power, but I didn’t like Newton’s. I’d seen too many things over the past three years that I’d been at the Northern Light. In my opinion even the Commission didn’t fully trust him—if they did, he’d be part of the Assembly.
“We’ll need to watch how she adapts to the walking cast and alert the Commission. Where she goes from here is ultimately their decision.”
By the way she flinched at his last statement, the process was working. She was beginning to understand how much the Commission ultimately controlled. Tomorrow at Assembly they’d ask, and I’d be honest. I’m sure they’d be quite proud of themselves—the recent refinements with the indoctrination process were proving effective. The old ways produced slower results. As a member of the Assembly, I normally would’ve been pleased too, but this time was different. I wasn’t only an Assemblyman—I was her husband. The tighter Sara clung to my hand, the less content with the process I became.
Freeing my hand, I began closing the buttons of her nightgown. As I did, Sara raised her arm and pointed to her eyes. Father Gabriel’s teachings instructed me to reprimand her, to remind her of a rule she’d never heard, that females answered questions—they didn’t question. Instead I inwardly smirked at her ingenuity. The only rule she’d been told was not to speak, and while she obeyed, she’d found a way to communicate.
My wife was smart and resourceful. She’d learn quickly and we would succeed.
Newton’s beady eyes widened and met mine.