Secret Sins Ch. 05

Nipasinakoosewin

My Wednesday morning stroll was shorter than I would have liked. This was due to the fact that I hadn't gotten out to buy better walking shoes the night before. I'd stayed in instead, Donna and I slumbering in my bed after our bath until she left later that evening, when she was sure I was feeling better about myself. And I was. Wednesday morning, however, was another story.

The things she'd told me the night before, the reasons why I could be sure that Darren and Haley would never say anything and the whole lesson on the mechanics of salvation, were true and still held so in my mind. This wasn't exactly what was bothering me. The thing that had my mind completely occupied as I strolled the quiet, residential streets was a growing feeling that there was something... wrong.

I wasn't sure what it was but, as much as I hated to admit it, it seemed to center around Donna. I hated to admit to that because of the way I'd come to see her. She was a great assistant, had been helping me out in ways that I couldn't have imagined, had become a great friend, (and more) and I was beginning to grow real feelings for her. What was more, I could still feel that connection between us, that strange, familial bond that went beyond our shared perversions that I couldn't quite put my finger on, and the more I got to know her, the stronger it became.

But, when it came to that, after a week and a day knowing her, what did I really know about her? Next to nothing.

In the meantime, while it was true that my first posting was turning out to be the time of my life, Donna being largely responsible for this, it also felt like my life was no longer under my control. It seemed more like she was the one who was in control, but I wasn't quite sure why I felt that way. Was it because of how she'd orchestrated the incredible events in the kitchen the day before? The way it was she who'd recruited the help of the Bennett family in the first place, or the way she was largely responsible for what we'd been able to get done on the house?

Thinking about it, I began to feel that it was all these factors combined, but what did this mean? Apart from the incestuous fun we'd had with the Bennett siblings, her involvement had proved to be nothing but good for me. True, we were having lesbian sex, a carnal act forbidden by God, but that was as much me as it was her. To be fair to her, she'd have put her top back on that day had I not intentionally discouraged her by removing my blouse before she could. For that matter, while she'd instigated the scene with Darren and Haley, I didn't exactly stop it, had in fact encouraged it by telling Haley to suck her own brother's cock. Donna herself had pointed this out to me but, on the other hand, could I really believe that Haley would have been giving her brother oral in my kitchen had I never met Donna?

The very memory of those events began turning me on as I walked, eyes cast down at the sidewalk ahead of me as many local inhabitants do. My arousal in itself seemed to vindicate Donna in some way, even though I knew that the answer to my last question was a resounding, 'No'. Brushing away my pussy tingling anticipation over what kind of 'transgressions' I'd be involved in that afternoon, I finally came around to the subject matter that I, for some reason, wanted to avoid.

For a non-Christian, Donna could sure preach some pretty good Christian reason. She obviously knew scripture and how to use it, and that did bother me as I remembered something one of my CFOT instructors said during my second year, Professional Ethics course about how even Satan could quote scripture, and much better than we could. Obviously, I'm not saying that I suspected Donna of being Satan in disguise, and I didn't even like making this comparison in my mind. It was only that I began to realize that I needed to look beyond my reliance on, and feelings for her. I had to keep in mind that I was the spiritual authority, and that her motivations as a non-Christian, given our sexual relationship and the events in the kitchen the day before, bore closer inspection.

These were difficult thoughts. It would have been much easier for me to simply allow her to lead me in the things she'd said, the reasoning she fed me. It would have been easier to allow her to satisfy my fears in order that some of my actions and the wanton desires that fueled them could be justified, but I had the spiritual responsibility of having to be more honest with myself than that.

Walking along, my frowning face still cast down as I went, I was so deep in thought that I literally ran into someone. Startled out of my inner conflict, I looked up to behold a middle aged woman on the sidewalk. She was aboriginal, a mildly attractive, tall, overweight representative of her race, and she looked at me with surprise and curiosity. She was with an old man and, when I say this, I mean a very old man. Also aboriginal, his face looked like it had been carved out of rock, emotionless as he stood there staring at me from her side, his hand on her forearm for support while hers was at his elbow.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," I apologised. 'I was- I should be looking where I'm going."

"No, its okay," she said with a sudden smile, noting the uniform. "You weren't the only one who wasn't looking where she was going. You okay?"

"Yes, you?"

She nodded, looking at my uniform again with a question mark in her features.

"My name is Lieutenant Watts," I said with a smile, sticking out my hand.

Letting go of the staring old man's elbow, she took my hand, shook it and asked, "Your mother named you 'Lieutenant'?"

"Tara," I further introduced with a laugh.

She nodded and returned, "I'm Lisa, and this is my grandpa, Albert."

"Pleased to meet you both," I said, nodding politely to the silent old Indian before adding, "I've just moved to the neighbourhood, over on Rae Street. The Salvation Army has opened a Community Mission there, and-"

I was interrupted by the sound of her smartphone's ring. She offered an apologetic smile as she took it from her pocket to answer the call. After the word, "Hello", her entire, short conversation was conducted in Cree. She seemed undecided about something and, at one point, looked at me doubtfully before taking the phone from the side of her face to address me.

"Uh, could you do me a really big favour?"

I didn't know quite how to respond to that. A 'really big favour' could be anything, and I was understandably hesitant to agree to doing one for a complete stranger, but she went on to explain before I had to decide.

"I need to run a few streets over for something, but I can't take my grandpa. Could you please stay here with him for me? Ten minutes, tops. I promise."

Albert continued to stare as though I were the first white person he'd ever seen.

"Uh, well, I..."

"You'd really be helping me out big time. This is my house right here," she told me, gesturing to the dilapidated looking, brown shingled structure behind her. Apparently she'd just been leaving home when I'd run into her at the end of her walk. "You could sit in the shade on the front steps while you wait, and I promise I won't be gone long."

I'll be honest here. I didn't have any experience with seniors and had no particular interest in gaining any. But it then occurred to me that my entire mission there in North Central was all about helping people, and here was someone asking for my help, so...

"Okay."

"Oh, great! Thank you so much," she said before turning to the elder at her side to convey something in Cree.

He made no reply but, when she was finished, Lisa looked back at me to say, "He doesn't speak English, but he'll be okay. I really appreciate this, Tara, and I swear I'll be right back."

And, with that, she was off, hurrying down the sidewalk, speaking into her phone again and leaving me alone with the old man who only continued to stare suspiciously at me.

With a nervous smile, I pointed at myself and said in a slightly loud voice, "My name is Tara."

No reply, only more staring.

Pointing again, I repeated, "Tara."

Still no reply.

"O-kay," I cheerily acknowledged.

After briefly looking around myself for someone who might know Cree and finding nobody, I visually located those shady front steps that Lisa had mentioned at the front of her abode. With silly hand gestures, I tried to convey to him that we should move there to wait but, as he only stared unnervingly in reply, there was no way to know if he got it. I went to take his arm to lead him there myself, but he pulled away, sudden surprise and maybe a little fear in his wooden features.

I found this odd, but paid it little mind in the face of a growing irritation with the old man. So finally, I was left with no choice but to start up the walkway by myself, looking back with gestures for him to follow. He stood rooted to the spot until I got to the steps and sat, looking at him expectantly. I smiled at him, wondering if his eyesight was good enough to see it from the end of the short walk, and patted the spot beside me, a universal invitation that I figured he would understand. Without a word, he turned and began his way up the walk towards me. When he got to the front steps, however, he only stood there, just inside the shade and facing me as I once again became the object of his staring curiosity. This was more than just a little awkward.

Having given up on any meaningful interaction with Albert, I looked idly about me, at the street and the other houses lining it, beginning to wonder at what kind of person leaves her vulnerable, elderly grandparent with a total stranger in the first place. I mean, what was so important that she had to run off without him? For all I knew, she was off 'scoring a hit', as they say, and there I was, enabling her in a foolish attempt to be of help.

With a sigh, I settled my eyes back on Albert, wondering what kind of life he'd led. I wondered what kind of life he'd been born into and the changes he'd seen over his lifetime that brought his people to where they are now. I wondered if anybody had ever tried to tell him of Jesus Christ and the plentiful gifts of Spirit that He offered. After my painfully limited success with him to that point, I wasn't about to try.

Looking around myself again, I tried to imagine the area as it might have been before white men had come, picturing the vast plains uninterrupted by the trees that we'd planted, the cities and roadways that we'd built, transmission towers and powerlines we'd strung, the clean air that we'd polluted. I supposed that these things were the price of civilization, the down sides to nice, heated homes in the winter, heated cars that could get us twenty miles across town in a half hour, or to the supermarket where an endless variety of food from all over the world awaited to be simply removed from the shelf and taken home. Alternatively, one could just get on their smartphone to call a taxi that would pull up to their front door to take them to the nearest hospital for modern medical care, or take a bus across town to work, gaining the paper currency that made the availability of all these things we take for granted possible. Of course, if one didn't have a job and was without means of gaining said paper currency, one would sooner or later end up living at another form of modern convenience, such as a Salvation Army homeless shelter. A great place for those who'd ruined their lives with drugs, alcohol, gambling and etcetera. If one couldn't find a place there, there was always the option of living in a filthy alleyway in a cardboard box while an uncaring populace walked right on by as though you didn't exist. So intent on their viciously competitive little lives, they'd turn a blind eye while you starved or froze to death in this wonderful age of convenience and modern miracles.

Looking at Albert again, (Still staring suspiciously at me) I sighed, inwardly redefining the word 'civilization'.

Lisa finally returned, a plastic Sobeys bag filled with something or other in hand, and a smile for her grandfather and me.

"Sorry about that," she apologised, a little out of breath and perspiring in the summer morning heat. "I really appreciate this, Tara."

"It's no problem," I replied, immensely grateful for her return as I rose to my feet, glancing at the Sobeys bag.

Following my glance, her apologetic expression remained as she explained, "A friend of mine from a few streets over. His freezer died and he had to get rid of all his deer meat before it spoiled. I couldn't take Grandpa 'cause he has two Pitbulls, and he really doesn't like dogs. Had a bad experience with them when he was a kid."

"Ah," I said, nodding and smiling, now feeling bad about my earlier, racist assumption that she was off buying drugs.

"Do you want some?" she asked, gesturing to the bag she was holding with her free hand.

"Oh, no thank you," I replied. "A little too gamey for me. I prefer pork."

She nodded as I stepped around her, preparing to leave by saying, "Feel free to drop by the Mission any time you like."

"I will. And thanks again for looking after Grandpa."

"It was no problem," I assured. "Goodbye, Albert."

Up until then the old man had never taken his eyes off me, staring suspiciously, almost fearfully, but at my farewell gesture he raised his arm, pointing directly at me and said, "Nipasinakoosewin!"

It was his tone and the expression on his face that bothered me, as I obviously don't understand Cree. It was an expression of accusation, but I also read disgust and even fear in his features as he continued to point. Lisa's expression had also changed. Her eyes widened and she glanced at her grandfather before looking back to me, but closer this time, a wariness now in her eyes that hadn't been there before as Albert repeated himself more forcefully.

"Nipasinakoosewin!"

"What- what's he saying?" I asked with a faltering smile.

" ... Grandpa's old and... traditional. Sometimes... well, you know how old people are," she explained, her smile back, but phoney as a three Dollar bill as she took his elbow.

"But, what does it mean?" I asked as she turned him around, he looking back at me with that expression still in his ancient face.

"Nothing," she answered, shaking her head with her phoney smile, making it abundantly clear that it was a lot more than nothing. "Thanks again for looking after him."

Whatever it meant, she now wanted away from me, was trying to hurry him up the stairs but, for someone as old as Albert, any hurried physical action was problematic in itself, providing me with the time to insist.

"What does it mean?"

My tone was as demanding as it could be while standing on her property and, at the top of the steps, she turned while Albert began entry to their house. She hesitated with a smile that looked apologetic but, in reality, was still very uncomfortable as she answered me.

"It means... It means, 'abomination.'"

We stared at one another for a brief moment, Albert just inside and turning around as Lisa continued to give me her phoney expression of assurance.

"He's very old," she offered.

Yet, she didn't say that he was senile or addled in any way, and her expression told me quite clearly that, very old or not, she took his accusation seriously.

"Wh... what does he mean, 'abomination'?" I asked, starting to feel insulted and a little creeped out.

"It's nothing," she assured yet again, moving inside her house, turning to regard me with thinly veiled paranoia before adding, "Thanks again for helping out, goodbye."

And then the door was closed, the unmistakable sound of a lock turning leaving me in their front yard with more questions than answers. The curtains moved at the edge of the window, somebody from within waiting for the 'abomination' to leave their property. I continued to stand there as though there would be more until all there was left to me was to leave.

On my way down the sidewalk again, I looked back at the house a few times, still upset and disturbed by the incident. It wasn't until I was about halfway home, my feet aching more than ever, that I could finally shake the feeling that Albert's pointed claim had left on my mind.

"Stupid old man," I mumbled under my breath. "He's the abomination. Probably back there dancing around a fire in his backyard right now, praying to tree spirits, or an interesting rock, or whatever."

My thoughts eventually began drifting back to Donna, but my attitude towards that situation had changed. Maybe it was just the incident with Lisa and Albert resetting my perspective, but I suddenly found myself wondering if my suspicions of Donna were misguided. As I'd earlier noted, she'd done nothing but help me since I'd met her and, as far as our lesbian relationship went, (abomination) that was, as I'd also earlier noted, just as much me as it was her. And didn't Darren and Haley deserve some blame in what had happened the day before? Donna was right in that they were both legally consenting adults and, when it came right down to it, if they didn't want to do the things they'd done, they didn't have to. Nobody was holding a gun to their heads. In fact, it was Haley who'd asked if she could touch her brother's cock to begin with. Wasn't it? And Darren didn't stop her. He was actually ogling her almost as much as he was Donna in the backyard before they'd come in.

No, things weren't always what they seemed and, though it never should have happened, it just did, and it wasn't really Donna's fault any more than it was mine, or Darren and Haley's. We all just got carried away. Really carried away, but I decided not to be so critical of the woman who was doing a very good job as my assistant and best friend. She didn't deserve it.

That being said, I'd also decided to be careful about getting so carried away again. Even disallowing the possibility that Darren and Haley would ever say anything, the house was Salvation Army property, a Community Ministry and, therefore, it was sort of public property. There was always the chance that someone could have come into the house, possibly even the back door. In fact, they wouldn't even have had to come through the back door, would have only had to look through the screen to see what was going on and, poof!, there goes my career.

Another reason I couldn't afford to get carried away was because, while Donna was correct in the fact that I'd been forgiven for all of my transgressions, including the ones that I would make, that didn't mean that I could go around committing them willy-nilly, still expecting my salvation to lay intact on judgement day. Grace doesn't work like that.

Yet, the memory of Darren's big, thick cock in my hand was a constant reminder of how much exciting fun willy-nilly could be. It was the first time in my life that I'd ever touched a cock, and the feel of it, it's wet, slippery heat, its soft hardness that was just so entrancingly good...

I didn't get to lick it. I didn't get to suck on it like Donna and Haley did, to feel it on my tongue, in my mouth, to taste its precum and experience it's big, messy eruption, soiling my face and-

"Tara!" I hissed under my breath, giving my head a mental shake.

The good thing about porn was that, up until I'd moved to Regina, it had always kept me from actually participating in sex, kept me satisfied and at least physically innocent, if not safe from my own fingers. Until recently, I'd never even thought of myself as one who would participate in a sexual situation, never even so much as fantasized about myself in one, but now that had changed. On the one hand, I was ashamed and disappointed in myself but, on the other, it was like my discovery of porn all over again. Just thinking of all the things I could do, had seen others doing in porn and could now conceivably do myself, was enough to make my stomach cramp with nervous anticipation, my heart beat faster, my pussy moisten with willing excitement. Oh, this was bad. So very bad.