Catholic Guilt and the Joy of Hating Men - By Regan Wolfrom Page 0,34

that all she had to do was go to sleep, that she’d wake up in the glade of flowers and mushrooms and then she may or may not need to buy another set of underwear.

But it felt different that time.

Marguerite waited for a while, and eventually the boredom grew to the point where she was able to lay down on the bed and fall asleep.

Marguerite awoke in darkness. There was no sun, and she couldn’t see the moon.

And there was no breeze.

And she could still feel the soft bed beneath her.

She was still in the tunnel.

She was hungry and especially thirsty; she could tell that she’d been asleep for more than a few hours.

"I want to leave," she said.

The voice didn't answer.

"Let me out of here!"

Marguerite wanted to sob, but she knew that wouldn’t help. It wasn’t like whatever dark power had locked her there was going to be swayed by a few years.

She walked back to the beginning of the tunnel, to where the door had once been but no longer was; she’d begun to know the gentle meanders so well in the darkness that she didn’t even need to feel around for the walls.

If the door were ever to open again... that would be her only chance. So she waited.

And waited some more.

She couldn't tell how long she'd been there. At least a day... or maybe not. She'd never been so thirsty before, nor as hungry.

Was Bradley out looking for her? Did Diogo finally realize that he was making out with his imagination? Would Adelia know she was missing? Would Adelia even care?

Then the deep voice spoke, rumbling through the tunnels.

“Adelia...” the voice said. “Para onde foi o teu amado, Adelia?”

Light poured into the tunnel. The door was open.

She could see Adelia outside. Adelia... and Rafael.

Not Bradley or Diogo.

Marguerite tried to run to them, but the moment she took her first step she felt a hand on her ankle. And more invisible hands came, and she was unable to move.

“Help me!” she screamed.

Adelia looked over to her. “Marguerite!” she called. “What are you doing?”

“Where’s Marguerite?” Rafael asked.

“I can’t move,” Marguerite said.

Adelia took a step toward the tunnel.

“No,” Rafael said. “Wait here.”

He charged through the door.

And then he stopped, one foot locked in half of a step.

He was being pulled, Marguerite knew. The hands were trying to keep him away from her.

“Let him go,” Marguerite said. “Please.”

“Another fool,” the voice said. “You will die today, Rafael.”

“Don’t hurt him. I’ll stay with my beloved. I won’t run away.”

“And Adelia? Where has her beloved gone?”

“My beloved?” Adelia asked.

“Your gnome,” Marguerite said.

“You are asking if I love the gnome?” she asked.

“Where has your beloved gone?” the voice asked again.

“I love him,” Adelia said. “Let us go.”

“No,” Rafael said, still straining against the hands. “I love Marguerite. Eu te amo, Marguerite.”

“She is pledged to another,” the voice said. “I must protect the hearts of my humble men.”

“These women cannot live their lives in love with gnomes and no one else. They will never be happy.”

“It’s true,” Marguerite said. “I need more than plastic.”

“But I’m willing to share,” Rafael said.

“A little presumptuous, Rafael.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Will you pledge to love my humble men?” the voice asked.

Marguerite nodded. “I will,” she said.

“I will love my gnomo,” Adelia said. “If I can see other people.”

I felt the hands release me. I saw Rafael drop his lifted foot.

“This is a solemn vow,” the voice said. “Um voto solene.”

Rafael grabbed Marguerite’s hand and led her out of the tunnel.

The door closed behind them.

The three climbed up the stairs of the Initiation Well without a single word spoken. Rafael was still gripping Marguerite’s hand.

They reached the top as the sun was starting to set.

“I hope I did not offend you, Marguerite,” Rafael said. “I was trying to keep you safe.”

“It’s okay,” Marguerite said. “You can let go of my hand now.”

Rafael took his hand back with a blush. “I think you girls should leave the town,” he said. “We don’t know how far this... magia can reach.”

Marguerite shook her head. “We promised.”

“We did,” Adelia said. “We cannot run away.”

They made their way down the path to the chapel as the sky grew darker.

Marguerite reached out for Rafael’s hand.

She wasn’t sure what she meant by it. She certainly hoped he wasn’t really in love with her or anything.

But maybe Rafael... maybe he was worth a chance.

The Siamese Candidate

Laura Daniels couldn’t keep herself from pacing the tastefully-plush waiting room, cracking her knuckles as she went. She wished she could’ve