Forked Tongue Monologue

Forked Tongue

Andrew had thought he saw smoke when he filled his jugs from the spring. The old farm had been abandoned for years, since the fire that burned the house to the ground. He wondered if what was left of the rotted barn was on fire. Andrew had put down his jugs and started through the line of trees into the field to get a better look. Half way through the acre of dead, waist high weeds he stopped. There were two men and a young woman ahead. The woman was laughing and yelled at one of the men. The man swore and said something Andrew could not hear. Andrew had not wanted a confrontation so he dropped quietly onto the frozen ground. He crawled on his stomach to get a better look, his suspenders bunched up under his heavy coat, which made it difficult to move. He wished it were summer so the weeds would have covered him better. One of
He sat beside a large oak located just inside the wrought iron fence that separated the church from the graveyard. The church had no sign of life. Andrew thoughts wondered back to the Sunday a few months ago. He shivered as he had recalled the words of Reverend Jim. The Reverend started out nice enough and talked about the poor girl he had found the night before. He had said she was a church member, around the age of fifteen, and was now recovering in Capital hospital. Her family had asked for him not to reveal her name, but to ask for everyone’s prayers. He had then started to warn the congregation to teach their daughters to dress modest and to “be sweet,” so as not to tempt this misguided soul. Andrew cringed as he remembered that remark, be sweet. Jane and he had brought their daughter, now 16 up to be independent. Having woman be submissive was another reason so many families left the original sect. He knew Reverend Jim was a man of God, who preached forgiveness, but calling a rapist a misguided soul seemed somehow wrong to