Wild Orchids: Chapter Sixteen
By Denise Main and Ian Chisholm
Previous Episodes
Arch had tossed and turned, twisting his sleeping bag into a tangled tube. He groaned, trapped in a dream. Women wearing the Blessed People head scarves over their uncut hair had circled him stomping their feet, jeering, shouting insults, calling him the Devil’s Slave. He woke, just on daybreak, a cry of anguish escaped his lips as he clawed at the sleeping bag which had shifted and heavily covered his face.
George spluttered, snapped awake. ‘Jeez mate, what are you up to, you’re making enough noise to wake the bloody dead,’ he groaned, turned on his side and before long, resumed his rhythmic snoring.
Archie lay quiet; the rhythm of the snoring helped him relax enough to sort out the quandary he found himself in after months of feeling free from them. Tomorrow, I must get onto it, find out if there is a Blessed People community living and worshiping nearby. Sleep wasn’t for him, so he planned his moves. The first stop was to see Beryl at St Vinnies.
‘Hi ya Archie,’ Beryl, greeted him from behind the counter. ‘Glad to see you’re finding the Ugg boots comfy. You’re certainly walking much better.’
‘Thanks Beryl, yes they are super comfy, the chilblains have healed, thanks to you,’ he replied looking down at his boots and fleecy covered feet with a grin of satisfaction. ‘
‘Is there anything I can do for you today?’
Archie had decided he would buy something to have an excuse for a chat.
‘Yes, I could do with a new book; I have the pleasure of reading other than the bible these days and have finished ‘Cannery Row.’ Mind you, I still read from the bible each night, he hastened to add, ‘that’s a pretty good read.’
‘OK Archie, come with me and we’ll see what you might like.’ Beryl led him to the paperback section, where they flicked through the many books on the table.
‘Beryl’, Archie asked, as casually as he could, ‘just out of curiosity, after talking about the bible and religion, I was wondering if you knew of any different places of worship around Fingal Sound? I was thinking about people who seek other than the traditional places of worship.
‘Anyone in particular?’ Beryl asked.
‘No, not really, just curious.’
She sat on the nearest chair, which gave out a loud creak under her voluptuous figure, crossed her chubby legs and began naming the churches in the Sound; five in all, but did not name anything that resembled the Blessed People.
‘Is that all?’ he asked.
‘Yes, that’s the lot here. But I do know there’s a Jehovah Witness community in Merton, and Plymouth Brethren in Denton, but that’s quite a way from here. I think there used to be a religious group called the Blessed People here at one time, but they moved to Denton. I don’t mean to pry, but are you looking for a church?’
‘Maybe. I’ve a friend who is keen on the Salvos, might give them a try. No hard feelings. Vinnies do a great job and Beryl, so do you. I enjoy coming in here and having you help me out, I do appreciate it,’ he said shyly.
‘Here’s another Steinbeck, ‘East of Eden’, will that do?’ Beryl said waving the book at Archie.
‘Sure, how much?’
‘Fifty cents to you Archie. Good luck with your research.’
‘Thanks Beryl, cheers for now.’ As he left the shop he thought, damn, Blessed People in Denton. That still doesn’t explain why those women were in Fingal Sound. Could be a problem. Must be on my guard. ‘Might have to move on,’ he muttered miserably.
