Perpetua & Felicity

Perpetua

My father's fingers tremble. It is rare that he gets angry, but I could see that bit of wetness in his eyes that always comes when he is frustrated. He is watching lightning strike his house. He simply has to watch it burn. He is burning now. I have set him on fire.

I look across the table at the pitcher made of clay that was half full of wine, and I say to him, "do you see that pitcher, father?"

He does not want to break his stare, but he glances over and nods his head. "Yes."

I square my jaw and speak quietly and clearly. "Can you call that pitcher by any other name?"

He swallows air through his nostrils, and I watch his beard tremble as he answers my question. "No."

“Would you call me a stalk of corn? A hammer from your shop? Would you call me a fish or a lion or a bird in the sky?"

"I would call you daughter."

"I am a Christian. A believer. Like that pitcher of wine, I can be nothing else but what I am."

He looks at the clay vessel on the table and he picks it up. He pours the wine onto the dusty floor. "This is a pitcher," his face twists, and I can see that the lightning has hit him as well. He sends the object hurtling towards the wall where it shatters. "And now I call it dust. You cannot put wine in it anymore. The wine is spilled like your blood will be spilled. And you will no longer be my daughter or a Christian. You will be dead."

My hand by my side wishes to clutch the icon of my faith, but it is not there. The governor of our town had followed the laws of the emperor. To slow the spread of my faith they made it illegal for anyone new to convert. We had to hide our beliefs, but I was not afraid to be turned to dust.

"It does not matter if I am broken down into pieces like this vessel.” I say. “Even in tiny pieces I am still a believer. I still serve my lord."

My father would never strike me, but I can see that he wants to crack me like the broken pitcher. It is a moment where he thinks that he might do it but then something passes over him and his mood wilts. His voice softens, and I can hear a childish desperation.

"Why would this carpenter of yours sacrifice you the way he sacrificed himself? Would he leave your own infant son without a mother? As it is you travel from room to room in our home, quietly thinking and staring into nothing. The servants bring you your baby, and you refuse to hold him or feed him. Will you have your son be raised without a mother?"

I step towards him to remind him of my youth and of my love for him. My devotion as his daughter.

"But I have a father too besides you. And I must follow him. I would not have my son grow up with a mother who is afraid to be who she is. And if I am not here to raise him, he will have an example and a light to lead him down the path. And one day he will be with me and with all of us who have seen the light. All of us who travel the pathway."

My father pushes his hand up under his beard, a sign that he is making a decision. "I have three sons before you and none of them have the courage of my only daughter. I cannot support you in this suicide, but I agree that your son should have the memory of a brave mother."

I wrap my arms around his waist and hug him like I am a child again. He puts his arms around me and in the embrace of my father on earth I feel the love of my father in heaven. I will be baptized. I will convert. Even if it means my death.

Felicity

I cannot say who the father is, but I know that my child grows inside of me. He is ready to see the world. I can feel his feet trying to kick his way out. He is looking for the doorway. There isn't enough room inside of me for him. I do not like to think about the night that he was forced to be my child.

I am a servant. I am loyal to my lady. She has helped me through so many dark times. There were nights when my baby's father would revisit me in my sleep.

A nightmare.

I would wake like a bolt, quite sure that he was once again on top of me, but my mistress would come to my side and gently sway me. I felt as if I was her child even though she had a baby in a crib not that far away from us.

The night was stretched out across the sky, and it felt like he could tear a hole in it. Not even the darkness could protect me. This man. He was not a stranger to me. He still lives in this house. I can never reveal who he is but I stand there close to him everyday. I cannot understand how my mistress can be so warm and so kind and so clear in her head and her brother is such a monster.

Perpetua

I look down at my hands, and I wonder what it would be like to have nails driven through my palms. What is it to hang from a cross for days and days? They say death was slow for him. I'm told my death will be quick, but it will be painful. I will be mauled and eaten alive. All of us will. And the crowds will roar and cheer and have something to do that day.

I sit here in this cell with the stench of the dead everywhere around me and the shadow of sin. I am not afraid of death. I know when I'm gone, my baby will have lost his mother. The judge and the guards have taken pity on me and they have allowed my son to stay with me. I look down at his hands and wonder what size nails would it take to crucify him?

Felicity

All my life I never knew there was a way for my mind to be this occupied, and now I am certain that I am using every last chamber of my brain. All I can do is think about this baby inside of me and how I want her out. I'd like to pretend that I'm driven by a deep-rooted desire to protect her, but I don't want to see my sisters and brothers murdered without me. Especially my lady.

If I am pregnant on the day of the execution, they will not send me to the monsters. I will have to wait. Sometimes I feel that my baby is a seed inside, growing so that I can die and no one will notice. But most of the time I know that the seed inside of me is my love for my lady. She is the one who inspired me to commit my soul to heaven.

It was all just a dream. We were together as the water poured over our foreheads and we became immortal. The birth of a thousand babies can't match the love of two believers. And I love her very much.

Perpetua

It is terrifying to stand in this dark tunnel and listen to the flesh of the “criminals” being torn from their bones. They are monsters doing what monsters do. As each group of the baptized is pushed into the arena, a new beast awaits.

My darling reaches her hand for me. We became mothers together just a few days ago when her daughter was delivered by God’s grace. Felicity refused to name her, but she held her hard enough to leave a mark. I know I hugged my son just as hard. It was almost as if we each would have sent them to heaven, but without a baptism, they would wind up lodged between heaven and hell for eternity. We will only be reunited once they have been baptized. With the new suffocating laws, that might not happen soon.

So our babies are stuck on this earth for a lifetime. That’s what’s best. Hopefully we will mother from heaven. I am certain that as we are torn to bits, we will feel our babies in our arms. I trust the immaculate one’s grace. I am certain the pain of dismemberment will feel like a wisp of air compared to the loss of our only children. We are both broken in two, even before we enter into the arena to the bloody-thirsty music of the screaming crowds.

Felicity

It is not a time to follow laws. Our devotion made us criminals. I am holding her hand no matter what society dictates. I can feel the blood dripping from her shredded arm. The creature tore into us, but he could not kill us. The governor has ordered that the centurions slay us with their swords. Our lives could never be saved here on earth. I pull her closer to me. One soldier trembles and weakly plunges his sword into me, but it misses my heart and only slices my shoulder. I stumble but I will not let go of my lady.

His eyes open wide and then sharpen. He is not going to make the same mistake twice. But before he can strike again, I embrace my sister, my mistress, the woman I had served since I was a child. I kiss her the way Magdalene must have kissed the cold body of Christ when he was dragged into the cave.

We had been reborn together and now we will die together. As we kiss I can feel how we each pass our lives into each other. Her love makes me hungry for death. Her kiss makes my soul invulnerable.