Page 30 of Cloud Storm

I wanted to scream and kick, but I was so afraid. I had seen my father’s fury before.

“You have brought shame to our home,” my father yelled at me as soon as I crossed the door, while he pulled my crimson apron out of my hands.

The house was still dark, no lamp had been lit. Did I mention that we didn’t have electricity?

Even in the murky foyer, I could see the silhouette of his hand rise to hit me, but then Joshua, my older brother, stood between us.

“Leave her,” he shouted at my father. “Ariel is still a girl, she doesn’t know what she is doing.”

I was shaking, for me as much as for my brother. I knew what his defiant attitude would earn him.

And it wasn’t anything good.

Not at all.

“She is a woman. At her age your mother was already pregnant with you. What she needs is an iron hand,” he warned. “The time has come to look for a man who puts her beneath his rein, who holds her to the will of The Lord, as the word says.”

I looked for my mother, needing her support, but she was in the corner of the room, dwarfed, totally still and unable to intervene. I doubted she even had the courage to contradict the one who had been chosen as her husband.

My mother was very similar to me, at least physically. From her I inherited my complexion and my almost-white hair. However, the five of us had the same gray eyes as my father. From her husband, a taxed husband, you could bet.

It was true, freedom was a value that was not known. We lived oppressed by the submission generated by ignorance and discipline. We were well-dominated sheep, in The Villa the use of firearms was not allowed, but over our heads hung a very powerful sword, which was manipulation. Our existence was governed by rules written in an old book and nobody had enough courage to dare to raise their voices and say it was easier to flee.

In that restrictive environment, we couldn’t even choose the person with whom you would share the rest of your life. And it was something I was terrified of.

An arranged marriage. Living in another house, away from my brothers.

I cried my eyes out that night despite the fact I did not receive a beating, however, there was no reason to rejoice. My four brothers would be whipped the next morning on the pole that was located outside our house for such a purpose. All our neighbors would be there in attendance as an example was made of the rebellious youngers.

I felt tremendously guilty as that night I cried silently, surrounded by their arms. The only ones who had always been there for me. Joshua, Aaron, Ezekiel, and Nahum hugged me in silence, and during the whole time the sky was lined with dark clouds, not a single star in sight.

We only had each other. And we were incredibly tight.

My four brothers always protected me. And I loved them so much.

When I was a little girl they always took me with them on their strolls. They taught me how to milk a cow, how to fish and even how to harness the plow around the ox my father had.

Joshua was the first one who was allowed to go to the outside world to sell baked goods and cheeses with my father. He always brought home a little treasure for me, hidden in his socks. Nothing too big, a postcard full of colors and happy images. A coloring pencil or a pretty ribbon. When Aaron, and the others joined him, they did the same.

They said they were spoiling me. I treasured all those little things and to this day, they are in a beautiful box on the top of my dresser. I don’t open the lid often, though, it hurts too much.

That night a new chapter of my life was written.

A crucial one.

Even though they were the ones who would be beaten as soon as the sun rose over the horizon, they knew that I was the one who needed their comfort.

“You have to leave here, sister,” Joshua murmured when it was almost dawn. “You should not have to get married if you don’t want to.”

He said it with such conviction that I believed him. It was a great act of sedition to even dare to suggest that. If my father found out, Joshua would surely end up dead, we had been raised to obey, like honeycomb bees.

“But where am I going to go?” I asked, scared to death. I had dreamed a thousand times of getting out of there, but saying it was one thing, actually doing it was something else entirely.

“I’m sure you’ll find your way. It’s got to be better than staying here and being forced into an arranged marriage, that’s why you have to leave.”

We heard noises coming from the other side of our old house and they left my room, fleeing like rats in a shipwreck. Poor guys, their problems would increase if they were found there.

Shortly after, I heard the voice of our father calling from the kitchen. I opened the door of my room to see them pass in order of birth, but not before giving me some of their many looks of love.

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