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UNRIGHTEOUS
Our Torrid Places

Our Torrid Places

The natural landscape of Cascade, Montana, is wondrous and inviting with heavenly views and miles of healing blue skies. Snow-capped mountains, emerald rivers, and breathtaking waterfalls join together with forests of towering pines. The endless colors of flowered valleys are nature's kaleidoscope, bursting red and yellow and purple and orange. Indeed, divinity has found comfort within Cascade's borders, where the blessed and beautiful earth never ceases at any moment to be remarkable.

The picturesque section of Montana was even more so in spring, where everywhere colors new and bold graced earth's canvas. Bluebells, Black-Eyed Susan's, Mountain Lilies, and Scarlet Skyrockets; all flowers that were in brilliant bloom across golden prairies. There were gentle breezes that swept down from the mountains, swaying the thousands of pines that stood tall and proud against the rugged earth. Indeed, one could live in Cascade a thousand years and still not see all the beauty it held.

But opposing Cascade, Montana's splendor and bliss was an on-the-run drifter named Nate Hodges; an enigma whose life was scarred by heartache and struggle. He was someone all too familiar with disappointment and broken things, like hearts and homes and dreams. So much had brokenness become a way of life for him that he'd almost accepted it as permanent, since it seemed to lead to the breaking of more things in himself and others, like trust and promises and spirit. He lived a questionable life, and there was nothing to fear—having come from the broken places he had.

Even with forty-five fast approaching, Nate was beyond the level of handsome most women had ever seen. He was powerfully built, with broad shoulders on a six-foot-three frame. His thick hair was surfer-like and sandy-brown with gentle highlights falling in layers around his precision jawline. He had grey eyes flecked with fiery bits of amber that left those who looked long enough spellbound. They were like quicksand. And he had a way of speaking to women without ever saying a word, revealing seductive thoughts with only a glance.

But within his physical perfection was also veiled desperation, something profound and unsettling that women didn't pick up on in time. That particular longing was a clue to a much darker side and, the women who loved him didn't realize--or refused to accept--the force pulling them in. It was far too strong. In the end, the only thing left was why they shouldn't have loved him in the first place.

At times, Nate Hodges could be far too bitter for this world. He was an expert at keeping his heart hidden and his anger out in the open when it suited him best. Society didn't agree with men like him. It didn't agree, and it didn't approve. In most instances, where ever appropriate actions and conversation were expected, he stood out like blood in fresh milk, but he didn't mind that he did. He just kept to himself--hidden and angry and existing--until he felt he needed love to survive. Then, that blood and fresh milk would be stirred together and served up in a beautiful glass. And any woman unlucky enough to drink from it would eventually discover the truth--the ugly, dangerous truth--that falling in love with him meant a dark and terrible time in the end.

But when he decided to pass through that little known section of Montana on his way north to Canada, it felt good. He felt a sense of renewal that he hadn't felt before and, surprisingly, he didn't shy away from the idea of it. To have a chance at a better life--one far different than what he'd been used to--felt like a real possibility in Cascade. The half-square mile of paradise gave him hope and thoughts of a fresh start. Nate considered that Cascade might be the perfect place to become someone different. Somewhere where he could forget about the bridges he'd burned over the years. He figured that in Cascade, those bridges wouldn't matter any way.

Nate recognized that his jail sentences and missed opportunities could become far away notions, so much so that he could forget they ever happened. And with his past behind him, he would finally be a better man, without the mistakes that defined him. In Cascade, Nate felt that life could be better than before prison; when holding down a job and taking care of things on his own was easier. Maybe in Cascade, he wouldn't have to wake up in a different bed every few weeks, alongside yet another unfamiliar woman whose clinging heart meant nothing to him. For once, he could have a real-life to count on.

He especially felt that way when he met Jaya Doenee, a beautiful Native Indian who made him realize that maybes didn't have to be maybes anymore. When he saw her for the first time that day, his mind raced with possibilities. He stood watching her, keeping a safe distance so she wouldn't discover him and disappear before he could ask for her name. Her long black hair was like magic to him the way it seemed electrified by the sun and fell gracefully around her body. He felt lost somewhere in time while standing there fixated, wanting more of the miracle that she was. In those first moments, Nate felt overwhelmed and ready to give up everything for her to look his way and give him just one chance. And with how handsome Nate Hodges was, one look would be all he'd need.

His mind kept wandering back to that day, that first moment when she looked his way. How amazing she was to him. Even now, in the freezing dead of night, Nate remembered. The way she held his stare, the hungry look in her eyes, the wanting way she leaned into him as they talked. He could still smell her perfume. These were the memories filling his head tonight. All the memories that seemed to be swallowing him whole. 

Angry and filled with regret, Nate could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into that place he never wanted to go, not in Cascade, not in the new life he'd started building for himself. But it was rising inside him, and he could feel that mess of emotions beginning to surround him. His intense jealousy was as real as boiling water splashing on his skin. His thoughts turned to where Jaya could be, and with who. He shoved his seat halfway back and opened a beer. After a couple of deep breaths, the tightness in his chest eased, and his breathing steadied. Imagining Jaya beside him, he took a long drink and looked down at his leg. He recalled the warmth of her hand there, twirling her fingertips in unpredictable patterns, just like she did whenever they would drive somewhere together. Nate lit a cigarette and closed his eyes.

He imagined them slow-dancing to their favorite song and Jaya's body tight against his, her long, soft hair tickling his skin. In his mind, he could see her sensual smile and her getting lost in his eyes, the eyes she loved having on her all the time. He remembered when she'd wanted his every breath and every moment to be hers. And he couldn't stop remembering. Nate opened his eyes and wiped away the cold sweat from his forehead, thinking about the intense love they'd had, wanting it back so desperately he could die. He turned and studied the red bouquets on the seat beside him, inhaling his cigarette deep and holding the smoke inside his lungs. He wanted Jaya to have the roses by now while they were still perfect. He wanted Jaya's love and forgiveness by now, and his apologies accepted. He wanted make-up sex, too. But he wasn't getting any of it. And at four o'clock in the morning, with six hours having passed and Jaya still refusing his calls, it was becoming painfully clear that Nate was never going to have what he wanted.

With worried eyes, he traced the ribbons of cigarette smoke floating in the air. Drinking from the icy bottle in his hand, he contemplated the mess their love had become and how he was far worse off than he'd been before Cascade. His bones ached from the freezing temperature, yet Nate couldn't leave or let go. He wanted Jaya far too much. He wanted her energy and her light, and for it to break apart the darkness in his world. And to keep it broken. Nate was desperate for Jaya's love, and lying to himself--and lying to her--was justified if it meant having her back. He would do anything to hold her again. If she feared him more than ever now, that would be something for him to fix. Some empty promise he would make. Even if having Jaya back meant he would probably hurt her again, then so be it. He would fix that too. Giving up on Jaya was something he just wasn't willing to do. Nate wanted Jaya back, and that was it.

As the wind whistled outside, he rubbed his eyes and fought against the splitting pain in his head. He zipped up his jacket and pulled the hood over his head, seizing upon the shred of warmth left inside the truck. On the stereo, a Led Zeppelin song played. He finished the last of his beer, and with slurred speech, sang along. "Oh, pilot of the storm who leaves no trace...like thoughts inside a dream. Here is the path that led me to that place...yellow desert stream. My Shangri-La beneath the summer moon...I will return again." He closed his eyes to dream.

                                              ______________________________________

In the harsh morning air, Nate awoke and stared down at his watch. 6:36 a.m. It glowed brightly and burned his eyes, which he rubbed in small circles with the heel of his hand. The roses on the seat came into view as he focused. He thought about the way they still looked in full bloom despite the frozen air. The night was behind him now, along with all the long, cold hours he'd waited. He grabbed the bouquets and stepped out of the truck, stretching his arms out wide. After a careless rearranging, he headed toward the locked gate with the flowers in hand, then placed them on the ground beside it. The two padlocks on the chain caught his eye. His big fists suddenly curled as he stared-down at the one that hadn't been there the day before. The sight of it gave him a sinking feeling.

With a blank look in his eyes, he jerked down on the locks and twisted the heavy chain. Was Jaya that afraid of him now? Caught up in the idea of it, Nate kicked at the snow hard, then again and again until a dirty mound built up beside the roses. Suspicious thoughts bombarded him, of Jaya and where she might be. He scanned her property left and right, tilting his head and listening intently for any sound or movement. There was nothing out of the ordinary that he could tell. There wasn't a different truck in the driveway, God forbid, or an unfamiliar voice in the distance. He couldn't hear Jaya's voice at all, or the boy's. And there was nothing that would lead him to believe she was doing something she shouldn't. But all the quiet threw him, and he couldn't escape the sudden heavy feeling pulling down on his gut. It never lied.

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Something must have been going on long before their terrible fight, and it had to be something serious enough to make her stay gone yesterday and last night, and now this morning; hiding and avoiding and ghosting him, hour after hour after hour. Every argument and fight before, Jaya had always given in, answering his calls and eventually talking to him long enough for the two of them to make-up. But it was different this time, and obvious to him that her heart had changed to something solid and immoveable; something that he felt powerless to overcome. A wave of nausea hit him as the acid inside his empty stomach churned. 

Moving toward the truck, he felt his heart pound and adrenaline rushing in. Once inside and settled into the seat, Nate tried steadying his breath. But as quickly as his hand flew up, an empty beer bottle crashed against the dashboard. His mind was overwhelmed. What if he couldn't handle the truth that Jaya was hiding? What then? Nate cradled his head in his big, gloved hands. What the hell would happen to both of them then? 

                                            ________________________________________

High Court of the Divine Council, in the Year of Our Lord Two Thousand Sixteen.

Opposite Sapphrael, across the vast tribunal, the Heaven's Court Bailiff stood. He was suited in a black, buttoned jacket and holding a large scroll firmly in his hands. He unrolled it and proceeded to read aloud with great emphasis.

"Defendant, Guardian Angel Sapphrael of the Cheyenne People, present here today for criminal trial, commanded by Almighty God. Current offense: November 2016: Violation of Sanctions previously imposed; Interference with God's Ordinance for Mankind, years 1985 through 2016. Angel Sapphrael does now submit to testimony before the Divine Council for determination of appropriate and required sentencing recommendations for criminal actions against God and man."

The Court's Bailiff then swept a purposeful hand toward the witness stand made of mahogany and gold, directing Sapphrael to be seated.

Once he was there and collected, the magnificent angel's testimony began: 

"I remember that fateful day, too, when they first met. It was Springtime, and joy and anticipation filled the air. Jaya was, of course, the main focus of my concern, for I knew this man, Nate Hodges, was a dangerous storm. And I knew Jaya was heading straight for him. She couldn't see the darkness in his heart like I could. She had no idea of the evil hidden inside him.

In those first moments, he was like a predator moving in for the kill, and I was afraid for her. Jaya was unaware of how his breath froze the moment he first laid eyes on her. She was unaware of how he positioned himself in perfect stillness and watched her every move, and that an overwhelming feeling of excitement stirred inside him. She had no idea of his sudden criminal desire or that he was capable of uncontrollable rage. Jaya simply had no perception of all of this, as I did.

Jaya Donee was Nate's stimulant from the very moment they met, a honeyed object to tantalize his flesh and the one beautiful dream he could finally realize. She was a breath of life to his dead soul. Jaya Doenee was his Utopia.

As I stood invisible beside him that day, feeling the beat of his heart in the atmosphere, I knew he was starving for all of her. I knew his obsession had begun."

The beautiful angel lifted his sapphire eyes to the Judges before him, urging them to understand his fear.

"If only I would have done something more to protect her that day. If only I would have warned her then, in some way or with some sign that she could have recognized as a reason to be alarmed."

                                       __________________________________________

Lying on a wool blanket against the winter ground, Jaya touched the red marks on her neck with guarded fingertips, carefully measuring the length and height of each one. They had turned into thick welts by now, and the pressure of her fingers even lightly brushing them made them burn. Nate had crossed the line, into a dark place she'd never wanted to go. A place where the violence had been more intense than ever before. Their last fight was beyond anything she'd experienced with him, and she could never allow what happened between them to happen again. Jaya knew. She would never be lucky enough to escape his ferocious grip a second time.

His anger had been escalating in recent weeks so that any little thing she said or did set him off. Some days, his rage would appear out of nowhere, and a lightning-fast hand would strike her across the face. Other times, he would yell uncontrollably and threaten physical harm during profanity-laced tirades that left her shocked and afraid. And though he promised never to do it again, Nate continued to hurt her. Even with his endless apologies, and Jaya forgiving him every time, his violence toward her just kept getting worse. The phrase he most often said, "I love you to death," made her realize it was never his own death he meant when he said it. She hated Nate's memory now and wished she'd seen the truth about him sooner; that he was capable of immense harm and brutality.

She recalled the sound of Nate's drunken voice, hateful and cursing and hammering away at her. She struggled to block the experience from her mind, all the raw sensations and graphic images she so vividly remembered. The crazed look in his eyes as he watched her struggling to breathe, his wild hands tightening around her throat with incredible force, his hot saliva dripping onto her skin. Every terrifying thing about that night sickened her.

Fighting back the tears, Jaya considered her elders and what they might think. Without a doubt, they'd be terrified by how badly she was hurt. But they'd be especially angry if they knew it was because of Nate Hodges, a man they never wanted in her life in the first place. He wasn't Cheyenne. He wasn't Native American. And he certainly wasn't like the men she'd always loved and respected who were honest and caring and gentle in spirit. Nate Hodges wasn't any of those things. Instead, he was the reason for her bruised body and broken heart, and everything her elders feared and despised.

Taking in the vast expanse of forest around her, Jaya considered the main reasons she had come to it over the years. For strength and discovery, because of death and loss, and for healing and escape. Avoiding Nate all together wouldn't be easy, but at least she could manage it better out here--away from the main roads and beaten paths that were more familiar to him. Jaya was one with the deepest parts of her beloved Montana, rugged as it was. And she felt far safer knowing he couldn't easily find her there.

Looking at the mighty cottonwood tree overhead, Jaya thought about her parents. She felt a sense of relief they would never know the terrible things Nate had done; the terrible things she'd herself allowed. Her choice to be with such an evil man would have broken both their hearts--this she knew for sure. Jaya choked back tears, longing for how much better off she would have been, were they still alive. They would have helped her through the recent dark times in her life. They would have protected her from all the physical and emotional pain she had to suffer. Jaya imagined the massive network of branches wrapping around her like the arms of the mother and father she no longer had. She whispered an apology to them both, convinced they could hear it from heaven.

She gazed up at a narrow ray of sunlight, rare in a cold November sky like this. Her eyes burned as she stared longer, worn, and red from not sleeping nearly enough. Jaya thought about God and the timing of fate. A mathematical equation formed on a white space in her mind. Unspeakable Violence + Husband = Gone. She knew she'd played with fire and gotten burned, yet fate had still been gracious enough to intervene. And like a watchman stepping in to handle things on her behalf, it seemed to know the exact time Nate had to exit her life. Jaya felt relief that it had. Recounting her sins and saying a prayer of forgiveness, she felt comforted by the hope that her own overwhelming truth might stay hidden. So the one man she feared--and the one man she truly loved--would never have to know.

As the ground beneath her grew colder, Jaya focused on the jagged twists and turns of the dark limbs above, comparing them to the treacherous relationship she had with Nate. She hated herself for looking his way in the first place. She hated his roller-coaster emotions and intense jealousy, and she hated the suffocating burden he'd become. But regardless of all the mistakes and harsh consequences, of all the unspeakable violence and fear...one truth remained. Jaya would have to be ready for whatever it was that Nate might be planning. For whatever sick scenario he might have in his mind for revenge should she break it off for good, meant Jaya would have to prepare for the worst, or she might never survive. 

                                       _________________________________________

The magnificent angel sat with downturned eyes, a curtain of sleek black hair obscured his face. The ornate throne chair he sat upon was made of gilded wood, richly carved, and its red velvet upholstery framed his ample wings. His testimony continued in a sorrowful tone.

"It appears that, yes, once again, I have turned away from God—my creator whom I adore—to stand before you in judgment. It seems that once again, I have been unrighteous and crossed the boundaries set down for me when time first began. But I implore you--please realize it was the history of the Cheyenne people, and all they have endured, that caused my disobedience to God."

Sapphrael lifted his sparkling, blue eyes and leaned forward in his seat, an expression of self-condemnation across his face.

"To destroy the love my Creator had for me was never my intention, this I promise you. It's true that I entered their world and followed them closely for many years, but this Cheyenne mother and child--and the grave danger they were in--made it impossible for me to resist. Even knowing I might forfeit my place in Heaven and eternity, I was helpless to the fact that they needed saving. Jaya, of course, lost herself to the world, and immorality and sin. Tragic consequences found her, as they should have; because of them I feared for her soul. I felt terrified she might die by the hands of this one wicked man, this catalyst for my downfall and my slipping from the hand of God."

Sapphrael moved the hair back from his eyes, sweeping it aside in a languid motion. He looked toward his Judges, who appeared unmoved by his beauty and explanation. Already, he sensed their scorn.

"Certainly, I questioned who I'd become...no longer God's beloved Sapphrael, but his enemy instead, hidden in the distance and fighting against his will. This marvelous, angelic form--perfect as it appears--was no match for withstanding their suffering, please understand. I was drawn to them so profoundly that I couldn't resist existing in their lives. As their guardian angel, I found myself immersed in every struggle and tragedy they endured. I watched over them and longed for their suffering to end. I hungered, as they did, for peace."

Sapphrael studied the Judges with cautious eyes, troubled by the idea they might believe he loved Jaya in the way of man and not of Heaven. He struggled to contain his emotion as he examined the tips of his blood-stained wings, caressing their edges with a trembling hand. He was aware that his heart on trial, as well.

"Indeed, I wondered if I were even capable of following the path God created for me, to be the guardian angel of the Cheyenne people, the messenger of comfort and hope. Knowing I had to witness their destruction without being allowed to stop it and carrying the shame and remorse for eternity was all more than I could bear. I could never ignore such evil, regardless of how wondrous God formed me. 

So I ask you, please, consider my turmoil regarding this circumstance, this incomprehensible expectation that imprisoned me before ever being condemned."

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