This is a work of creative nonfiction. The events are portrayed to the author’s memory. While the story is true, some names and identifying details have been changed to protect the privacy of the people involved. The conversations in this piece all come from the author’s recollections, though they are not written to represent word-for-word transcripts. Rather, the author has retold them in a way that evokes the feeling and meaning what was said and in all instances from the authors perspective. The essence of the dialogue is accurate.

** writers note: I believe in a higher power. I believe in freedom of religion. I am grateful for the upbringing my parents chose to raise me in around good hearted people that congregated, prayed and hoped for a better world. I have wonderful childhood memories from all of the people I met for the 20 years I was a part of this religious group.

It is unfortunate that some use religion to abuse power under the guise of spiritual counsel. It is my experience and belief that  it is verbal sexual molestation to question women about sexual encounters under the guise of prayer and scriptural  counsel. For three adult men to question  any woman  and especially females under the age of 18 about sexual encounters is  grossly inappropriate, sexually abusive and should not be allowed.

by Rebekah Marcano

YOU

     WILL

           BE DESTROYED AT ARMAGEDON 

…Brother M says  to me while leaning back in a folding chair tempting it to collapse beneath his over 200 pound body fidgeting the same way a nine year old boy does at dinner when he doesn’t want to eat his vegetables. Two other brothers –Brother A and brother Z  are sitting on each side of the fidgety Brother M trying to not be annoyed with his non- stop movement. The three men are elder leaders from our bible study congregation. I sit in the center three feet away from the three men. We all hold our breath when a stench of rotten eggs fills the room making our lips curl up towards our noses.

 There is a quiver in the  right corner of Brother M’s  lip like he is going to cry. His eyes bug out and become wider than his lids as his lips purse tight together to hold in tears or maybe farts until he blurts out:

AND YOUR SON TOO.

this is a fragmented flashback….

Welcome . It’s a good one.

I will call it- the bible study break up–

                          FOR-NI-CA-TION

                                               flash-BACK!

I try not to laugh with the words AND YOUR SON TOO because for one I don’t want to inhale the fart stench and  for two- I am thinking of the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz when she says: I will get you my prettttttttty-and you’r little dog too! I think of brother M with green face paint and a squinty eyes acting the part of the wicked witch telling Dorothy her fate: and your little son too. 

The room feels like a hidden cave with us four in the small room held after hours-after the English speaking Sunday morning service and before the Korean congregation comes for the evening service. The room is only 16 by 16 square feet. The walls are covered floor to ceiling with fake wood paneling and dark mahogany real wood  bookcases line the south wall filled with colorful books of all shapes and sizes and many languages: Spanish, English, Vietnamese, Korean, Polish.There are so many books that only a few are duplicates- dark blue pocket size books, leather bibles with gold rimmed pages, simple bibles with soft covers, light tan song books, an old frayed pink song book, 81/2 by 11 notebook size dark green books with titles boasting of a new world order, examining the scriptures daily, happy family life, you can live forever, the greatest teacher that ever lived,my book of bible stories, the great teacher, creation or evolution, the truth,  reasoning from the scriptures, theocratic order, bible advice for teens, bible advice for families, paradise earth, and so on and so on. 

 They are counseling me about my fornicating sins- deciding if I should be expelled from the congregation. My younger sister is outside the room in the empty church holding my three month old son awaiting the decision. She is thirteen and has curly golden hair,bronze skin and sparkling eyes. I call her my sons twin because they look so much alike.

 I stopped going to the bible study church group I had attended since birth when I moved out of my parents house at age 20- did the little slip and fade now you see me now you don’t . For my entire life I had attended three bible studies a week and preaching  door to door for hours at a time on weekends. Occasionally a fourth night of group study was added to prepare for the Sunday service. I had spent hours of personal study Saturday afternoons with an elders wife who thought I needed the extra guidance since my mom had so many kids and all and she chose to not have kids until the earth was destroyed and we all lived in the new world-the paradise earth.

I got pregnant a year later by a handsome young man I worked with -he was my same age with caramel skin  light brown hair and blonde arm hair. He smelled like  sandalwood incense mixed with coconut oil and was always happy-even laughed even when he was upset or tired. The  blonde arm hair I noticed when he rolled up his sleeves while we  unpacked boxes of picture frames in the basement of the art gallery while listening to the radio talking about life. In between unpacking boxes he taught me how to step dance talking about his college studies and scolding me for not going to college.

I told him I was taught in bible study that the end of the world is coming and we should pursue preaching not secular education so I just never did- plus this art gallery job was fun and I made good money. 

That’s ridiculous he told me. I mean- you are just too smart. That’s just plain old ridiculous. He laughed and explained to me how to apply for schools and how to get grants and loans.

He wasn’t anything like the “worldy” men I was warned about. We had a real friendship and talked hours and hours with ease as if we had known each other our whole lives. He was respectful and funny and cool. It was over a year of friendship before we even kissed one day while dancing in the rain, and before we took it any further he stopped. Looked me in my eyes and said: I really like you. I value our friendship. Are you sure you are ok with this?

 A year later we were expecting a baby. Someone from the bible study group saw my round belly and told someone who told someone who quickly alerted the congregation elders- lest a known fornicator affiliated with the bible group be walking around the neighborhood -I needed to be publicly reprimanded for my sins and possibly expelled or I  would make the bible group look unclean. I had after all been seen preaching in the neighborhood for years. My parents stopped going to the church around the same time I did . The same way they naturally fell into the little community with promises of  happy family life, singing parties with bible stories , home made meals and lots of instant friends-they just as naturally fell out- the community no longer serving a place in their lives tiring from a schedule so tightly filled with preaching and studying the bible there was no time to “do wrong” and yet no time to just be.

 Since the elders didn’t know where I lived-they came knocking on my parents door- we heard your daughter is pregnant- we want to talk to her so we can offer support.

My parents firmly said no.  She is not in a state to talk to you.

We just want to help they said.

We will have her call YOU when she is ready my parents said.

The weekly, un-invited , visits to my parents home did not stop- so when my son was three months I agreed to go speak to these men who had known me since age six.  I was ready for the bible study break up.

Are you sorry for fornicating? The quiet silver haired brother Z asks while staring at his notebook. His suit is too baggy for him and crossing his legs makes him look more like a coat hanger than a man wearing a suit.His voice is low and shaky. He is hoping I will quickly repent so the meeting can be over quickly.

I am not sorry my son is here I respond as non sarcastically as possible. I say  I am happy and the miracle of life and pregnancy and birth was the most godly, spiritual feeling of true love I have ever felt. I can not stop smiling.

My joy seems to unsettle them- I have that kind of can’t stop smiling grin when your cheeks hurt and an unseen force is holding them open. My answers do not match the repentance, sorrow and misery they were expecting to save.

Brother M has given up leaning back in his chair and  flicks his shoes off revealing thick red gym shoe socks that stretch out his dress shoes. He uses his left foot to scratch his right foot and then slips the shoes back on. 

The three men remind me of the three stooges. A bible carrying preaching version of the three stooges. Except the curly haired brother Z is not outgoing and funny. Brother M would be the curly stooge. Brother A would be the bully hitting everyone over the head. Brother Z is quiet and passive and goes with the crowd. 

Brother M asks the same question with extra words hoping that his prodding will make me answer the right way. If the great tribulation comes tomorrow you will be destroyed  and so will your son.If you love your son you will show repentance. Are you sorry you fornicated?

I look into brother M’s eyes to see if he really believes what he is saying. I use to believe what they said. I had night mares about dragons and fire coming from heaven -dead bodies laying everywhere and prayed that my family would be saved. The more I prayed the more I stopped believing that destruction and violence would come from a loving god.

The church people I grew up with are so- sooooo afraid of dying-they read verses about being devoured by dragons and show pictures with lightning bolts coming down from heaven.Too many people are scared of pain and then make other people scared of pain. The same thing with dying-I’m not saying I have the answers on death but I know how to LIVE and in second grade I learned about after pain in gym class while running so fast my legs turned to jello and climbing ropes until my hands bled. To know how to NOT feel pain you have to feel pain and it is only then you get the euphoria of AFTER pain. Butterflies in the belly carrying me all the way to the ceiling erasing the burning blood seeping out of my hands with prickly cuts from slices of rope.This is my little epiphany. Whenever something is painful I think of fourth grade gym class and imagine butterflies in my stomach erasing all my pain away.

Based on his eye movement-I don’t think Brother M believes what he is saying. It’s just his whole family is in the church and if he left he couldn’t talk to them anymore. Brother M has shifty eyes and he has trouble making eye contact with me directly. Even if he believed I would be destroyed-would a loving god really destroy a three month old baby for being born out of wedlock to a sinner? I mean the book of revelations is all complicated and all and written a long time ago-but I’m pretty sure there is no where in there about ARMAGEDON and killing babies born to out of wedlock mothers-I mean if that was true then abortions wouldn’t be unscriptural since god is gonna kill the babies anyway. This fragmented thought I keep to myself.

Rebekah-are you day dreaming? Did you hear the question. Brother A asks annoyed that my mind is wandering. Brother A does not have trouble making eye contact- he likes to glare directly in my eyes with his version of stern-ness . So he asks the question again, this time his way. We are not asking if you are happy you have your son- we are asking if you are sorry for breaking gods law of fornication. Sexual relations out side of marriage.

I repeat the same answer I am not sorry my son is here.

Brother M is still fidgeting and I wonder why his wife would let him wear gym shoe socks with dress shoes? Maybe she thinks the extra cushioning from the thick socks will be good on his knees and joints. I like his wife, I only feel bad that she never had kids in her twenties and now she is fifty and is always sort of melancholy. The end of the world was suppose to come ten years ago.

Brother A interrupts me with fury-you are happy you brought a child into the world you are unable to support with a worldly father? A child that will be destroyed if Armageddon comes tomorrow because you fornicated and broke gods laws? 

Well since my son is a result of fornication- I can not answer that without including my son. I am happy I have my son –I am happy I am in school getting an education so I can provide for him-I have never been happier in my entire life is what I say and not in a monotone voice- I say it powerfully  and I smile.

If you really love your son you would show repentance and come back to the congregation and marry a fine Christian brother and be a Christian wife. It appears you might be a nymphomaniac and you need to be married so theses urges can be controlled. Trusting secular education and worldly careers to provide for your son will not get him into the new world.

 Brother A paints houses for a living and spends the rest of his time ministering to the congregation. His wife cleans houses part time and preaches full time. They also have no children because they are waiting for the paradise earth to have kids and they like to say  how  even though they both dropped out of high school  god provides for them because they put him first. 

Brother A continues: Your rebellious nature will not get you a christian husband. Wives are to be in submission to their husbands.

I decide life is the perception we give it and whenever I am uncomfortable I can change the channel. It can be a comedy. Tragedy. Drama. Whichever you choose. Sometimes I like to choose all three. 

It can be a Hitchcock  suspense whodunit film like 12 angry men-a play taking  place in one room as the story unravels and the fate is decided.

Do the three holy stooge elders oust the fornicating young woman and her little son too (wicked witch voice)?

da-da-dummmmmmmmmmmm!

Will this fornicating woman and her son be destroyed at

AR-

MA-

GE-

DON!

I made this television game up when I was 17 and the elders were counseling me about brother B from the south side.

They had warned me about brother B  and how he wasn’t so christian because he wore flashy blue suits and the brothers in our publications we studied from wore simple brown and black suits and so I was to stay away from brother B since he was a flashy south side boy they told me

Of course I didn’t stay away from brother B- and gossip got around and someone told someone who told someone that I had indeed spent the night at his house and we were indeed fornicating.

So the three men took me in the back room room after bible study to ask questions-the more details –the better the prayer- is what they told me -they needed to know e-v-e-r-yTHING

They were self appointed holy men and their prayers were more direct to god they said that’s why I couldn’t repent by myself and pray by myself. So even though god already knew what I did- because he knows everything-I had to tell them so they could pray and tell god what he already knew and get direction for me.

EVERY detail.

 They needed to see just how sorry I was and  hear how I decided to lose my virginity-so they needed lots and lots of info. What we say in this room is confidential you can trust as and tell us everything. 

…for prayer purposes

what led up to the sex?

                 was there fondling?

                        kissing? kissing and fondling? did you enjoy it or were you pressured? was there hand holding? dry humping? how long did that go on for? did you fantasize about having sex before you had sex? did you mastrubate ? Do you watch dirty movies? Are you aware of what arouses you? You need to make your mind clean.

 At seventeen this group of childhood church friends were my only friends outside of my family-we grew up together. Preached together. Laughed together. When we weren’t allowed to make worldly friends at school we had each other. It was a bond of childhood understanding that someone who didn’t grow up like us would ever be able to get. If they kicked me out I wouldn’t be allowed to talk to them. If they thought I was sorry they might not kick me out just out me on probation.

Back when I was seventeen the questions felt like an examination when you go to the doctors office and the room is cold and you are only wearing a thin robe where if you turn to the side the doctor can see your nakedness because of the big slit in the back.

Examing.

Probing.

Questioning.

Pretending they don’t see your exposed body parts in their minds while they are asking for details…Did he touch your breasts? We need to know the extent of foreplay to know if you are sorry. For spiritual health…..That same feeling when the doctor asks you to lift up your robe. For your health. Pretending if they look the other way they won’t see your exposed breasts during the breast exam. Just checking for lumps.

           how many times did that happen?

                           where were you when it happened? what house? what room? how many times did you have sex each visit? how many times total?

They took notes. lots of notes. One would ask a question then look at the other and say:

Do you have any more questions brother?

Why yes– brother two and brother three would chime in and read off their notepads:

did he use his fingers on you before he actually penetrated you? did you perform oral on him? did he perform oral on you? anal? did you use birth control? was each time you had sex pre-meditated?

    lip quiver, stern stare, bible scripture, peering, praying.

Four years ago, as they asked the questions saying they  needed to know details I shared and shared-the more I cried the more they counseled.

It’s good to let us know everything-the more you tell us the more we can help. 

do you have these sexual urges often? if you do you need to tell us so we can pray with you

              we can help you -we can pray to God and help you with your urges if we understand them better-tell us about your thoughts that lead to the urges.

have you ever been sexually abused? have you ever been raped? with such a high sex drive- it seems as if maybe something happened to you. you can tell us. we will pray for you.

They would ask me to leave the room so they could talk and then call me back in. Sometimes it would be five minutes. Other times twenty. One time they asked me to step out for a whole hour, then come back in so they could ask me more questions.

You see sex before marriage is fornication and fornicators are like a little lump of leaven and a little lump of leaven will ferment the whole flock.They had to see how sorry I was so they could pray to God about it.

Back then they didn’t kick me out.

This time I want them to. I don’t care about talking to childhood friends I only care about creating a life of joy and opportunity for my son. I am not not seventeen anymore.

 The questions come  about how I came to have sex with a worldly boy at 21 and get pregnant. Brother M stops fidgeting and looks up without eye contact. Brother Z looks down at his notebook scribbling notes. Brother A places his notebook on the floor leaning forward in his chair to make stern eye contact-

so when was your very-very- first sexual encounter with this worldly person. Was it pre-mediated? Were there sexual thoughts? was there kissing or fondling first?

 I think of my seventeen year old scared self and all the other teen girls who were questioned in the back room asking sexual details in  between bible scriptures.

I WILL NOT ANSWER QUESTIONS ABOUT SEX.

I think of fourth grade gym class and climbing the rope and callouses and burns and hanging from bars and there is no pain I will feel from their questions and words of  Armageddon and destruction

      nothing can hurt me

                no words can scare me

                            no words can rape me

                                          no eyes can peer into my soul

I put an imaginary bubble around me and around my son. An invisible white light that protects us from words and looks and ill wishes.

I say my own prayers.

                God hears me.

I hum classical music in my head with sweet violins and powerful piano keys- vivialdi four seasons. I turn up the radio in my head louder and louder the violins are soothing and so he says it again.

Armageddon.

I only know this because I see the outline of his mouth move- I hear nothing but violoins-violins-violins!

Brother M and the two other brothers nod along to the beat of the vivaldi -slow nod- firm nod- fast nod- sharp nod-

eyebrow scrunch-eye twitch.

Sweat is dripping from his Brother A’s balding forehead to his glasses until it builds up and even fogs it a bit and he takes his handkerchief from his back pocket to wipe them down. Their eyes are peering to see if I will cry-Brother A likes to hand me a handkerchief from his pocket when I cry.

You will end up on welfare says brother A. It is clear you are a nymphomaniac and will have to marry a christian brother if you get let back in the congregation so you don’t end up with four kids from four different men.

I have seven thousand dollars saved up  I tell them so I can enjoy the summer with my son and I am going to have a career -a real career and I am going to make more money than TWO working parents- and I will have a flexible schedule so I can spend time with my son.

And just how are you going to do that Brother A asks.

 I am going to be a personal trainer and have my own business I say out loud and then to myself I say I will make more money than the three of you put together. 

I don’t need his handkerchief for tears because they can not make me cry.

Brother M fiddles with his ring -it  is too small for his fingers and I wonder if he will have to get it cut off.

More scriptures about Armagedon.

The heavens will be shaken, the sun will be darkened.

and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns.

and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy

Minnie Ripperotn has a great song too. Loooooooving you…

is easy because your beauti-ful

…..I hum this in my head to tune out the monotone rehearsed voice. I would sing this song while I was pregnant and rub my belly and my little angel would move in my belly.

“the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light; the stars will fall from the sky, and the heavenly bodies will be shaken.’

Brother A continues: All the single mothers in our congregation are on welfare. Unmarried and on welfare. How loving is it to bring a child into this world with a worldly father that does not love god?

The more they say the stronger I feel. Go ahead and ask me a sex question -ask me how many times I did it and where and if I did oral or he did oral and I will tell you how perverse and creepy old men asking young sisters about sex are. If brother M is the wicked witch-brother A is the wizard at the end that seems powerful and scary but is really weak and small with curtains and a loud speaker to disguise his cowardice. Brother Z is the tin man for no reason other than he looks the part with his silver hair.

Where is your bible? brother A asks.

Well I didn’t bring it- I say.

Brother A is fuming that I did not bring my bible, his face is red and his vein is popping out of his forehead: and yet did you bring your sons formula? Your sons diapers? You care more about your son than God? You care more about your sons physical needs than his spiritual? If Armageddon comes tomorrow your son will be destroyed because his mother is an un-repentful sinner!

The after pain feeling comes over me- the feeling from second grade gym class -jello legs that turn to flying-BUTTERFLIES in my belly that carry me to the top of the ceiling.

When you look at the pain and just feel it -an amazing thing happens.

A feeling better than before the pain –

              the AFTER pain

                               you have to look at it-feel it-inhale it- SMILE at it!

Calloused hands with prickly strands of rope sticking into the flesh wounds and the more I climb the less I feel as butterflies  enter  my stomach carrying me to the top erasing any doubts, stinging, burning

destruction-great tribulation-are you sorry-fornicator-fornicator-

             Rebekah-fornicator- welfare-Marcano-four kids from four different men- has been -repent-repent-repent- disfellowshipped– repent-armagedon is coming soon–from the Sheridan Park Congregation-repent-repent-sinner- are you sorry-tingling head to toe-out of body floating

                  laughter from the inside out-the after pain is JOY

                                                                  LOVE –

                                                                             non thought-

                                                                                        floaty-happy-

                                                                                                              RE-birth.

                                                                                                                            Being.