Tribute

The shop bell rang and there she was, Gretta Emilia Kroll, the most beautiful human I had ever met. Watching her lick crumbs from her lips after the first bite of a double chocolate chip cookie had been the highlight of my day back when we were in high school together.

In the 10th grade I started working the front counter of my family’s bakery-slash-coffee-slash-holistic remedies shop. My mom was a hippie that never quite turned yuppie in the 80’s like the rest of her generation did, so homemade concoctions have always been a family affair. But the capitalistic influence is hard to avoid. That’s how Gretta and I first met. She had just moved to the States from Berlin via the Foreign Exchange Student Program and wound up wandering in on her way home from school.

I was immediately smitten. Her long, curly, chestnut hair bounced as she confidently strode through the entryway and toward the cookie display. Her dark eyes hypnotized me, making it impossible to look away. The scent of lavender coming from her skin overtook the other smells battling it out inside the shop. Her German accent made gooseflesh of my hair follicles. I would venture to say it was love at first sight.

Over the next few years we became friendly, but we weren't nearly as close as I craved. We exchanged pleasantries when we saw each other passing in the halls of school but didn’t share any classes or have lunch together. Gretta would hang out in the bakery and chat with me a few times a week when business was slow but only if she didn’t have plans at night. After graduation she was homesick and decided to go back to Berlin. I have pined over her relentlessly since she went home; everyday regretting I never made a move. She never knew how deep my infatuation went. That is, until today. Today Gretta Kroll sashayed through the shop door for the first time since senior year.

“Dorothea!” Gretta exclaimed; her prefect teeth framed by supple, pinkish lips as they spread into an angelic grin. I couldn’t contain myself.

“Gretta!” I screamed delightedly, running around the counter to hug her. There were a couple of guys in the lobby who ogled at us while we jumped up and down excitedly in each other’s arms, but I didn’t care. Gretta was here, and we were together again. “I thought you were gone forever.” I breathed into her ear, the familiar scent of lavender making me melt.

She broke our embrace and cradled my hands in hers. “I missed my parents, but when I got home, I missed it here more. I applied to get into University in the United States so I could come back. I was accepted and moved back as soon as my Visa was approved.” She wrapped her arms around me again. My stomach fluttered fiercely at her touch.

We separated and made our way to the counter area. She posted up on the corner bar stool and I served her a double chocolate chip cookie and café au lait, just like old times. The patrons that were so intrigued by our enthusiastic greeting eventually lost interest in us and left. It was just the two of us, gabbing until closing time.

“I do not mean to be rude, but you are still working here. Like in school. You did not leave as the others did. Why?” Gretta inquired as I locked the door and turned off the “Open” sign. Her directness was jarring as always, but it’s part of what endeared her to me.

“No. Mom still harbors conspiratorial notions about ‘the man’ so I was relegated to managing the family business after graduation. No post-secondary education for me.” I answered, feeling a little exposed. Gretta and I had always spoken candidly to each other, but I couldn’t recall many familial discussions in the past, beyond cursory childhood stories that is. “She still pops in and out on occasion, but it’s mostly just me running the shop.” I added. My fledgling attempt at saving face, although I’m not sure why I felt so embarrassed.

“You don’t have plans tonight.” Gretta said, less of a question and more of a demand.

“I suppose I don’t. I was just going home to make some more potions for the holistic backstock.” I responded, trying not to let my anxiety about what she might say show.

“You can do that later. You are coming with me. I have a cookie exchange to go to at The Sanctuary and I want to take you and your cookies as my date.” The words leaving her lips enchantingly. I was dumbstruck.

“You... you’re... date?” I stammered. We had never spent time with each other outside of the bakery. I thought maybe she was just using a turn of phrase, but I had never known Gretta to be anything less than straight to the point.

“We were not friends in high school. I know that. I visited you here every day just to see you, knowing you were attracted to me. It was cruel of me.” Gretta stated matter-of-factly, causing a twinge to shoot through my heart. “I did not reciprocate because I was unsure of my standing with my family. When I went home, my parents and I had discussions. They are supportive of my decisions and came back to America with me. They will be at The Sanctuary and I want them to meet you.” My jaw involuntarily dropped. She used her hand to close my mouth before running her fingers across my lips. “I was... am attracted to you, Dorothea. I want to attend this event with you as my date.” She then kissed me. It was like I was being kissed for the first time. Every part was exactly how I had dreamed about for years. Her lips departed mine, leaving me wanting more. I took a deep, calming breath before agreeing to attend the cookie exchange and meeting her parents.

Gretta helped me do a quick clean-up of the shop and box up a sampler pack of cookies taken from the remaining unpurchased stock in the case. I grabbed my jacket and we made our way to the soiree. I wasn't a big follower of the goings on in The Sanctuary, but I’d follow Gretta anywhere.

We arrived to the warmest reception I had ever encountered in this sleepy little city. Many of the bakery’s regulars were there, waiting with open arms. We participated as a couple in all the fun and games offered. It felt nice to be accepted out in public with my new girlfriend. The event drew to an end and it was time for the official meeting of The Sanctuary to begin. Half the visitors were on their way to the exit. I had grown up with enough dogma in my life, so at that point I was ready to join them in leaving. Gretta batted her fairylike lashes and asked me sweetly to stay. I couldn’t say no to her. We took our seats at the front, where Gretta wanted to be. The Rector took the pulpit.

“We have gathered here this fine evening to welcome our newest member to The Sanctuary, Miss Gretta Kroll accompanied by her parents, Antje and Frank. Come on up here!” The crowd clapped and cheered as the Kroll family took their places at The Rector’s side, leaving me alone on the front pew. “Mr. And Mrs. Kroll, your daughter has been a valued constituent of our little flock for some time. I am so pleased to see that she has brought you here to pledge for membership.” The parishioners applauded again. The Rector took Gretta by the hand. “That’s not all, my children. Our little Gretta has not only brought her parents to pledge but has shepherded back a long-lost lamb to the herd.” He reached his hand out in my direction and the audience turned their attention to me. The sudden scrutiny made me incredibly uncomfortable. Hoots and hollers started again as they nudged me toward the platform to join the Krolls. The Rector’s outstretched arm encircled my shoulders in an awkward side-hug of sorts. “Miss Dorothea Gray has been absent from The Sanctuary since the closet door smacked her bottom on her way out.” He joked and the crowd laughed. The Rector faced me to gaze into my eyes. “What was it that Miss Gretta said to get you to visit on this most holy of nights, child?” He asked with complete sincerity and a little bit of concern. My knee-jerk reaction was to obfuscate the truth. But something in his voice made me rethink my auto-response. I took a moment to take in all the friendly faces that I’ve known my whole life and decided to answer the question honestly.

“Well... Gretta asked me to attend, so I did. I didn’t realize that when she was referring to her family, she meant The Sanctuary.” They chuckled at my naiveite. I couldn’t blame them. “Now that I’m here, I'm glad I stayed. Not just for Gretta’s sake, but for mine.” I turned to Gretta’s parents to address them personally. “I have been in love with your daughter for many years. I feel my spirit soar every time she is within my vicinity. Spending today with Gretta and meeting you has been the most precious gift one could receive.” There was a spattering of awes in the audience. I turned back toward the onlookers. “I think it's time I resumed my place among you.” At this the room exploded with uproarious praise.

“My children, did you hear that?! Our lost one has come home for good!” The Rector exclaimed. It took a while but once the excitement tapered off, The Rector continued his oration. “What an inspiring turn of events this has been.” He spoke thoughtfully. He seemed to weigh his next words carefully as he continued in a more sober tone. “This glorious development does present a very consequential dilemma though. As you all know, the pledging member must complete many steps to evince fealty to The Sanctuary. The final step being to bring a guest as final tribute for the Integration Ceremony." He paused apprehensively. “Miss Gretta brought Miss Dorothea along on this night.” The spectators whispered among themselves as the implication of The Rector's words sunk in. I looked in Gretta’s direction, but she avoided my eyes.

I had wanted so desperately to believe that the woman I loved, loved me in return. I ignored all the signs and all the teachings buried deep inside my memory banks. Physical pain clinched my chest as the full realization of Gretta’s true intentions dawned on me. I had been in her same position when I entered 10th grade. I was ready to take the final step, preparing for my Integration Ceremony. I was searching for a tribute, but found Gretta. I recanted the day she walked into the bakery for the first time. My desire for her outweighed my desire to be accepted by the mass, so I turned my back on The Sanctuary. My mom was disappointed but did her best to circumvent the punishment that I would've been subjected to had it been an outsider to recant their pledge. My atonement was working the shop. I was to be the sole proprietor of all ingredients and compounds required by The Sanctuary and its members. Gretta was unaware of any of this. As I mentioned, it’s not like we ever really talked about our families. Her actions at this crossroads created a very consequential dilemma indeed. The Rector commenced his formal allocution as I mentally prepared for what was to come.

“Humans are fallible, and mistakes can be rectified. Ceremonies can be amended, and rituals can be adapted to serve the purposes of The Sanctuary's needs. It is tradition that we uphold tonight, not protocol. With that being said, we find ourselves in a unique situation. Before you I submit two pledging members standing upon their final step.” Gretta abruptly gaped at me as she put the pieces together. The shock of learning that I was on equal ground was satisfying to behold. She didn’t truly grasp her circumstances. The Rector carried on with the rites. “I put it to you, my children. Do you recognize Gretta Emilia Kroll as pledging member ready to integrate into The Sanctuary?”

“In the name of our Lord, the Lightbringer, yea!” The multitude shouted in concert.

“So shall it be.” The Rector replied. “I put it to you, my children. Do you recognize Dorothea Helen Gray as pledging member ready to integrate into The Sanctuary?”

“In the name of our Lord, the Lightbringer, yea!” The laity cried out in unison.

The Rector smirked. “So shall it be.”

A flurry of activity commenced. The hall was cleared of chairs and decor except for two tables positioned at its center and the customary candles. The Collectors approached Gretta and I individually to bestow us each with diamond encrusted daggers. I used mine to slice open the palm of my hand and allow my blood to fill the chalice The Collector held. Gretta observed then mimicked my actions. The collected blood was used to draw pentagrams on each tabletop. Hand and ankle cuffs were attached to the table legs in preparation for tributes. 

The Rector reconvened the rooms attention. “As is tradition, a tribute must be made to The Lightbringer by a pledging member. As is protocol, that tribute must be presented by the pledging member. On this occasion, one pledging member presented another pledging member as tribute albeit unknowingly. As it stands now, we have no tributes and two pledging members." The assembly murmured among themselves, speculating on the resolution to this problem. The Rector hushed the crowd. "We are an understanding sanctuary and are able to make due with what we have at our disposal. I submit Antja Sophia Kroll and Frank Jurgen Kroll as tributes.” 

Gretta wailed in protest, having to be restrained by some quick-witted members as her parents were seized and cuffed to the tables.

The Rector held Gretta, trying to calm her howls as she thrashed fruitlessly against him. “Miss Gretta, don’t be upset. I recognize that this is a nearly impossible position for you to be in, but what must take place, you must do. I am a compassionate man; I will put the decision in your hands. You may choose which tribute to sacrifice.” The Rector cooed soothingly.

Gretta fell to the floor weeping. “None. I choose none.” She bellowed through her uncontrollable sobs.

“Do you recant your pledge then, Miss Gretta.” The Rector asked darkly.

“I do. I recant. Let my parents go. We'll leave, never to return.” She begged.

The Rector nodded silently then faced me. “What say you, Miss Dorothea? Do you recant as well?”

I mulled it over. “I do not recant.” I asserted to my brethren.

“Do you bring us a tribute?” He questioned knowingly, a grin forming at the corner of his lips.

I started at the heap of whimpering woman that knelt on the floor. Gretta took notice of the pause in my speech surveyed the room uneasily. She finally rested on my gaze, that was when I had my answer. “Yes. Gretta Emelia Kroll.”