It’s a place for a wealthy clientele of a certain
persuasion. Anyone who needs to feel the hand of God when they’re doing
something sinful can find what they’re looking for at Galilee. From what I’ve
been told, most of the scenarios these people conjure up aren’t their own
fantasies at all. Instead, they go in for the recreation of paintings. My
boyfriend told me he’s seen everything from Rembrandt’s Belshazzar’s Feast to
Bosch’s vision of hell being recreated in that place’s upstairs function room. Like
some kind of fine art karaoke. But with fucking.
My boyfriend is, as he puts it, a background whore. His name
is Laurence. My name is Ruth. For two years we’ve been together, and for two
years I’ve known what he did for a living. I never judged him for it. At least,
I never judged him in any way that he would notice. It was what he was doing
when I met him. He told me it was a job, but not just a job. I asked him if he
wanted to give it up and he told me that he didn’t. He answered any questions
that I had and he never lied to me. Sometimes I wanted to know and when I
didn’t, I didn’t ask. His life in Galilee was as separate as I wanted it to be.
Then he asked me to join him. Just for one night, he said. I
wouldn’t even have to do anything. All I would have to do was background
movement. Put on a white robe, look like I was having a good time, and then,
when the time came, I had to scream. He told me that I would be paid the same
as him. A last minute replacement got the same amount as a seasoned player. And
I wouldn’t even have to do anything. All I had to be was background colour. He
wanted me to do it. And I would be lying if, even as I told him I wasn’t
sure, I didn’t want to do it as well. Just to see what went on at the top of
the stairs. I was curious.
He told me to arrive at seven. I was met at the bar by a
woman in her late forties called Hazel. Her hair was black, her eyes were
green. “Family name?” I asked. She smiled and told me that she was very
grateful for my assistance. The usual woman had contracted a case of gastric
flu and they had very strict policies about what exactly went out and in and in
what fashion at Galilee. I smiled back and told her that it was my pleasure.
She directed me to the stairs and told me that I would be met at the top by
someone who would get me into my clothes.
I was helped into a white shift by a slender dark-haired boy
called Joshua and a red-haired girl who told me she was named Ruth. I told her
that was my name too and she scowled at me. “Not tonight. Day players don’t get
a name.” Which settled that problem. I was anxious to see where Laurence was
but he only found me as Ruth hustled me along the corridor to a narrow space
covered in sand behind a huge red curtain. He pressed a leash into my hand and
smiled at me.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “They do this all the time.”
The curtain went down. The space was much bigger than I
expected. Impossibly bigger. There was no way that we could be in the same
building. I looked up and saw the night sky through the glass ceiling I had
never known was there. Then the noises started.
I hadn’t seen the clientele. They’d been holding still until
everything was ready. Men and women dressed in robes that looked like they
could be torn off very easily. They wouldn’t even need Velcro.
Once we’d all lined up and got into position, they started
enjoying themselves. I’m not going to say I didn’t look. These people were
entertaining themselves in ways that I hadn’t really considered before, at
least not in any great detail. And there it was in front of me. I just had to
stand there in my toga, holding a leash, while others were putting things into
places and making all kinds of noises. The use I was getting out of my leash
paled in significance to what they would have done with it, I’ll tell you that.
I felt a tug on the leather and glanced down. A sheep looked back up at me,
looking about as useless as I felt. I assumed that it was part of the
background decoration like me. At least, I hoped it was.
I don’t know exactly how long I stood there, trying not to
look directly at the various parts of human anatomy on display. It might have
been an hour, it might have been less. I had drifted off and started staring up
at the sky, wondering what a satellite would pick up if it looked down at
Galilee. I was startled when Laurence grabbed my shoulder. “Time to go,” he
said. I nodded, but something in the corner of the room caught my eye. A small
fire had started. I hissed at Laurence but he pushed me towards the door. “It’s
part of the show. Just start moving slowly.”
There was a roar of what I assume was the fire catching,
then the screaming started. And it hit me. Sodom and Gomorrah. Of course. I
should have known. I knew exactly what I had been brought there to be and it
should have broken my heart.
“Look, Ruth! Open your eyes!”
I did no such thing. I wondered how hurt I should have been
as he pawed at the back of my neck, telling me to turn around, to open my eyes
and look. Instead I tuned him out and listened to the screams of the poor
fornicators who I assumed were well on their way to ash. He told me he loved
his job. This was his job. It wasn’t mine.
The heat from the flames was becoming unbearable but it gave
me a good indicator of where I didn’t want to go. When I walked away from it
and felt a hand on my arm I knew where Laurence was. So I turned around, I
grabbed that arm, and I pushed at the body it was attached to.
The scream let me know that Laurence had gone where I wanted
him to. When it didn’t stop I knew that I could keep walking. I hoped the sheep would keep up.
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It's been months since the last story. Bloody months. I've been busy but I'm hoping to get some more stuff up here soon. I'm planning a couple of things. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this. Here's some music.
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