Resurrection

Chapter 35 : Baptism and Peace

Yet for the sake of peace, I would continue to be a pawn in their little game. Knowing fully well that when the time arose, I could quite easily tug on the strings of my puppet masters and tear their arm off if need be. For the sake of my own amusement, I was happy to hitch a ride in the back of the bus before the revolution began.

Normally I would be continuing my method acting but the effects, the 'comedown' from the LSD trip were more than real. Steady migraines and the overwhelming nausea continued to subdue me and I continued to stumble through the woods, eyes half open, trying to block out the sun. To the worshippers that were closing around me, I was the victim of the ritual and the initiated. My defeated persona looked pathetic enough to them as I continued down their path. From behind a copse of trees emerged Carol with no e, brandishing a wide smile. She was dressed in pure white robes and eagerly rested her hand behind the small of my back, before jubilantly exclaiming:

"Abraham! You made it! You are doing so well"

We walked on for a spell, with her guiding me along the twisted path, before I glimpsed ahead a small but beautiful lake, the crystal peaks of its rippling currents twinkling before me. Before the lake was a number of guardians, a group aligning the shores and another group forming a guard of honour with arms raised and touching, making a little steeple peak for me to walk under. At the end of this little man-made tunnel stood the Father in all his splendour, wearing a white robe with ceremonial vestments. By this time the group had amassed into many more than the hillbilly stalkers voyeuristically spying on me in the woods.

I openly started weeping in response to this, which to all who witnessed was a perfect reaction to their ritualistic plans.

Carol consoled me.

"Oh honey, I understand. You've been through a lot. This has been very tough on you, but you are nearly finished." She hugged me tight.

"You are one of our special, chosen people and you will soon be rewarded. Just one last ritual to go before you become our brethren." She assured.

The Father Brian stepped further forward, arms outstretched as he beckoned me closer toward him.

The shock of realisation dawned on me:

These sadistic fucks were going to baptise me. The real torture was about to begin.

I could feel Adam laughing scornfully at the back of my being.

The fact I was going into this willingly was the extent of pure madness, and for the very first of moments in almost an eternity of superiority I was actually afraid.

This all had better be worth it.

I trudged along - by this time Father Brian was waist deep in the lake, his left arm outstretched in acceptance, waiting for his latest prodigy to embrace his guiding hand. I dipped my feet into the cool lake waters, letting them enclose my legs as I continued to wade through to the Father.

He embraced me and looked into my eyes, ignoring the distinctive spark of my rebellious spirit.

"What are you?" he asked.

"I am nothing but a sinner." I stated.

In the corner of my eye, I saw Ned nodding his approval in earnest. Many of the followers, including the captors that tortured me shared the same look.

"Would the initiate like to confess his sins?" He declared.

"Forgive me Father Brian for I have sinned. I have lived a life of sin and I would like to change." I said meekly.

I gave Father Brian a detailed confession while we stood out in the slack tide. Of course I glossed over my juicy mortal sins. Just threw in a couple of scandalous pieces of adultery before concluding "I am sorry for these and all the sins of my past life."

I awaited my punishment as Father Brian would lay down the perfunctory religious words that would torture me in this gigantic bath of holy water, waiting for my body to start sizzling in pain and for me to start chanting Aramaic like a scene out of the exorcist.

Father Brian exclaimed: "Based upon your profession of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, I now baptize you in the name of the Father and Son and Holy Spirit. Buried with him in the likeness of his death, raised with him in the likeness of his resurrection to walk in the newness of life." At this last outcry, I felt a massive jolt inside my brain like a knife turning inside my skull. I was trying not to grimace at this immense pain and was barely holding it together when luckily Father Brian dunked me into the lake. While underwater I let out a muffled bloodcurdling scream, pushing out the pain in oxygen bubbles that frothed up to the surface. A few swirls of nausea bubbled inside my oesophagus and I started to feel weak like I may actually drown.

The father quickly pulled me back up.

"He is reborn, redeemed and pure in the eyes of our lord. He is not nothing. He is our brother. Brothers and Sisters, I give you Brother Abraham!" He proudly exclaimed.

I was met by unanimous unyielding applause. Still recoiling from the holy dunking, I masked any signs of a grimace and forced out a beaming smile while the laboured sense of nausea refused to go quietly in the night, much like the celebrations that took place at our camp.

To be expected, while there were no drunken orgies (yet) there was a lot of celebration the way good god-fearing folks enjoyed including (giving me my clothes back obviously) and a feast of epic Texan style BBQ proportions. Between all of this and many glasses of wine to drown out the migraine inducing hymns and prayer sessions, I was becoming quite heady and ready to go into a very mortal slumber. I was escorted down another long corridor and after the 1,000th time someone said welcome or 'peace be with you, brother' I was shown a much quainter room than my previous accommodation. After a day of kryptonite, this superhuman needed some rest.