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The Virgin Maria
      
      
      by
      
Kevin B. Duxbury
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      
      

"Wake up!" He shouted.
Maria flinched under her 
covers, startled by her husband’s sharp tone. The 
side of her face was still tingling from the 
beating she’d received the night before.
"It’s time for church," he 
said. "Comb your hair and put on some make-up. Try 
to blend in that bruise on your face."
She touched her face 
lightly.
"Maybe next time you’ll 
have dinner ready on time," he said sternly. 
"Now hurry up. I don’t want 
to be late."
Maria folded back the 
expensive comforter she had slept under and rotated 
herself out of bed. She wrapped herself in a fine 
silk robe and walked around their large bed and 
into the adjoining bathroom. She reached into the 
shower and turned on the water, then sat on a small 
stool in front of her vanity table. She looked into 
the large mirror and examined her reddened cheek, 
then turned her head and compared it to her natural 
color. 
Maria was a young woman of only twenty-nine. She 
was a beautiful woman, with long dark hair which 
fell about a face flourishing with Mexican 
features. She took good care of herself, minding 
what she ate and continually exercising to maintain 
her thin, toned physique. To complement her beauty, 
Maria was also well educated and very intelligent. 
She had earned her doctors’ degree in Pediatrics 
and was working at a local hospital in the 
children’s ward. It was there at that hospital that 
she met her husband, Dr. John Smith, a tall, 
Caucasian man with a firm build and a confidant 
demeanor. Maria and John dated for about a year and 
were married in the spring. The first year of their 
marriage was good, and Maria was truly happy, but 
she was unaware of her husband’s extreme jealousy 
and controlling nature. He told her that he wanted 
to have children and start a family and convinced 
her to leave her job. That was four years ago, and 
they still had no children.
They bought an expensive, 
luxurious home in the rolling hills of Valencia, 
California. There, Maria became a homemaker, caring 
for their mini-mansion and assuring nothing was out 
of place. She thought to herself that the job of 
homemaker must be extremely important. Why else 
would she be punished with open handed slaps to her 
face, neck, and buttocks whenever something was 
left out of place or not done properly. 
Maria showered, then fixed her hair into a long 
braid. She then skillfully blended her bruised face 
with make-up, hiding the redness left from the 
night before. She dressed herself in a dark skirt 
and matching coat, then put on her gold necklace 
and matching earrings. She looked upon herself in 
the mirror and smiled subtly, happy with the way 
she looked.
"Are you ready yet?" he 
yelled from the next room.
Maria shuddered with fear. 
She grabbed her small black purse and quickly 
walked into the living room, only to find her 
husband standing authoritatively before her. He was 
dressed sharply, wearing a dark, expensive suit and 
fine shoes. He eyed her from head to toe.
"You should have worn your 
hair up," he said.
He removed his keys from 
the glass dish which sat on a small table by the 
front door, then walked out. Maria followed her 
husband out to the driveway and to a very large, 
very expensive Lexus. John pressed a button on his 
key ring, deactivating the car’s alarm and 
unlocking its doors. 
Maria opened her own door 
and sat quietly beside her husband. He backed the  
car out of the driveway and onto the street, then 
headed for the local church. 
The large bells of the old Catholic church swung 
gracefully, flooding the streets with their melodic 
tones. John walked briskly from the church parking 
lot toward the main entrance with Maria close by 
his side. They walked arm in arm, giving the 
illusion that they were a normal, happy couple.
"Dr. Smith," an overweight, 
balding man said.
He also wore a nice suit 
and walked with his wife by his side.
"It’s good to see you," he 
continued. "How do you like your car?"
"I love it, Fred," John 
said with a delightful smile. "How’s business?"
"Wonderful," he answered, 
shaking John’s hand. "I sold three more just like 
it on Friday. By the way, this is my wife, 
Florence."
"A pleasure," John said. 
"And this is my better half, Maria."
The middle-aged woman 
extended her hand to Maria. "Of course," she said  
with a warm smile. "It’s nice to finally meet you."
"Likewise," Maria said 
softly.
Her voice was like an 
angel's.
"We should get together 
sometime for lunch," she said happily.
"I would like that," Maria 
said with an honest smile.
"Why not today, after 
church?" Fred inquired.
"That would be great," John 
answered.
The two couples walked up 
the wide stairs and through the large doors of the 
massive church. As they walked, John whispered into 
his wife’s ear.
"Don’t forget your 
confession before the service starts," he told her.
"For what?" Maria asked 
quietly.
John gripped her upper arm 
tightly and drove his fingers between her bone and 
muscle. "For being a disobedient wife!" He 
whispered angrily.
Fear flashed through her 
body. She held her breath, trying desperately not 
to let loose her cries of pain. He released his 
grip, then smiled at her pleasantly for all to see. 
Maria walked to the confessional both and removed a 
tissue from her purse. She shook nervously. For the 
last five years of her six year marriage her 
husband had beaten, tormented and degraded her. Her 
nerves were shot, and she felt as though she could 
not go on any more. She entered the small booth and 
sat on the small chair, then closed the door. 
Within the darkness, a gentile voice spoke.
"How long has it been since 
your last confession, my child?" The priest asked.
"A week, Father," she said, 
her voice trembling. "But I’m not here to confess 
what I’ve done. I’m here to confess what I’m going 
to do."
"I don’t understand," the 
priest said with awe.
"I’m going to take my own 
life," she said, choking on her emotions. The 
priest gasped. "Maria," he said. "What has driven 
you to such a drastic decision?"
She paused for a long 
moment and wiped the tears from her eyes. "My  
husband," she sobbed quietly. "He has been beating 
me for five years now. He controls every aspect of 
my life. I’m a prisoner to him, and I can’t take it 
any more."
"Dr. Smith?" He said with 
shock. "But he is a generous and righteous man, a 
pillar to this community."
"I know," Maria cried. "But 
that is only what you see on the outside. On the 
inside he is a cruel and abusive monster, and I 
can’t take any more!"
He stroked his chin in 
thought. "How will you take your own life, my 
child?" He asked calmly.
"My husband takes Zolpiem 
to help him with his insomnia," she answered. "I’m 
going to take a handful of them tonight before I go 
to sleep."
The priest sat quiet for a 
long moment. Maria had a plan, and he knew that she 
was dangerously close to completing it. "Tell me, 
my child," he finally spoke. "Do you have any 
family outside your marriage?"
"I have a sister in El 
Paso," she answered. "But why?"
"Maria," the priest 
continued. "I have known you since you were just a 
little girl, and I’ve been blessed to see you grow 
into a fine, intelligent woman. I cannot accept 
your pre-confession to take your own life, but I 
can help you."
"How," she sobbed, her 
voice hopeless.
"I have connections," the 
priest said. "Go home with your husband tonight, 
and wait for a sign from God."
"A sign from God?" She 
asked.
There was no answer. The 
priest had already left the confessional. 
Maria took her seat next to her husband just as the 
head priest reached his pulpit. Father Alcocer, the 
priest who had heard Maria’s confession, stood in a 
corner and eyed her and her husband suspiciously.
"Before we begin today’s 
service," the head priest spoke. "I would like to 
take a moment to recognize one of our members. As 
you all know, there was an accidental fire in our 
daycare room last week which caused a great amount 
of damage. It seemed as though we would have to 
discontinue our daycare program until we could 
raise the funds to repair the room. Well, one of 
our members has generously donated ten thousand 
dollars to the church for the cost of the repairs. 
The daycare center will re-open next week."
The audience smiled and 
mumbled with delight.
"But this member has shared 
more than his money with this church," he 
continued. "He is a healer among men, and has many 
a time offered advice and service to those in need, 
free of charge. He is a model citizen, and a gift 
from God to this community. Dr. Smith, will you 
please stand?"
Dr. Smith smiled bashfully, 
then slowly rose to his feet. The audience 
applauded loudly. John smiled and waved to the 
church. He placed his hand on Maria’s shoulder and 
she flinched at his touch. Father Alcocer, still 
watching from the corner, frowned angrily.
"Dr. Smith," the head 
priest said. "You are truly an angel among men, and 
a gift to this church and this community. We 
appreciate you and thank God for you every day."
Again the audience 
applauded loudly. John smiled, and Maria said not a 
word. 
The service proceeded as usual. As the priest 
spoke, Maria looked about the church at the other 
couples. They sat close to one another, holding 
hands and smiling. She wondered if there were other 
women there who were also putting up a front and 
living a double life. She noticed a man, a tall 
thin man, who attended the church every so often. 
She wondered who he was, why he always looked so 
sad, and if he would treat her better than her 
husband. She often imagined herself running away 
with him and living a happy, free life. But it was 
just a fantasy, a way of escaping her own life 
temporarily.
The service concluded, and 
the members of the church bid each other well and 
went their own ways. John and Fred took their wives 
to a very elegant, very expensive restaurant and 
enjoyed a good lunch. Maria and Florence talked and 
laughed throughout their meal. Florence was a 
cheerful woman, and Maria truly enjoyed her 
company. Maria had very few friends due to her 
husband’s controlling nature. For a brief moment, 
she thought she had found someone that she might be 
able to get together with outside of church, but 
lunch was over before she could make any plans. The 
two couples exited the restaurant and said their 
good-byes, then drove off in their separate cars.
Maria sat quietly in the 
fine leather seats of John’s new Lexus. For the 
first time in a long time, she smiled.
"When will you learn to 
shut up?" Her husband said angrily.
"What?" She said, confused 
by his question.
"You were gabbing like a 
little old lady in there," he said. "It was 
embarrassing! Nobody cares that you were once a 
doctor! Nobody cares about your flower garden in 
the yard! And children? Where the hell did you get 
the stupid idea that we were going to have 
children? You’re not even responsible enough to 
take care of the house, much less raise a child!"
Maria bowed her head in 
shame, humiliated by her husband’s harsh words.
"God, you’re stupid," he 
concluded.
The remainder of the trip 
went without a word. 
They arrived at their home late in the afternoon. 
John parked his new car in their large driveway, 
then shut off the engine and handed Maria his keys.
"I have some files I need 
to bring into the house," he said. "Go open the 
door for me."
Maria unlocked the door and 
walked into their home. She placed her purse and 
keys on the dining room table, then returned to the 
front door to help her husband. John carried a 
large box of medical files through the doorway.
"I’ve got it," he said as 
he carried the files down the hall and into his 
office. Maria closed the door behind him and went 
to their bedroom. 
She kicked off her shoes 
and removed her coat, then sat at her vanity table. 
She removed the bands and clips from her hair and 
unwove her braid.
"Shit," John said from the 
next room. "I forgot my briefcase."
Maria saw her husband walk 
past their room toward the front door and thought 
nothing of it. She looked upon herself and began 
brushing out her long, dark hair. John walked up 
behind her, wearing only his fine trousers and 
white shirt, and a stern look about his face.
"Where are the car keys?" 
he asked quietly.
A cold chill flashed 
through Maria’s body.
"I left them on the dining 
room table," she said cautiously.
He grabbed a handful of her 
hair and pulled her from her stool. Maria gasped 
with pain and fear.
"Do they belong on the 
dining room table?" he said, raising his voice.
"No," she whimpered.
John drew back his hand and 
slapped Maria hard to the side of her head. She 
spun and fell to her face on their bed. She lay 
there stunned and breathless with fear. John 
grabbed her by her hair again, raised her head and 
exposed her face, then slapped her hard. Her face 
bounced off their soft mattress.
"Where do the keys belong?" 
He shouted.
She pushed herself up with 
her hands. "In the glass bowl, on the table by the 
door," she sobbed.
"Where?" He roared, 
striking her again.
"In the glass bowl," she 
cried. "On the table by the door!"
"Why did you leave the keys 
on the table?" He screamed over her.
"I don’t know," she 
whimpered. "I forgot."
"Liar!" He yelled.
He grabbed Maria by her 
hair again and forced her to stand. He sat on the 
bed and bent his wife over his knees. "Stupid 
bitch!" He growled. 
"You want to act like a 
child, then I’ll treat you like a child!" He pulled 
the bottom of her skirt over her waist, exposing 
her panties and the backs of her legs, then began 
slapping her buttocks repeatedly. He struck her 
with all his might, causing her to cry 
hysterically. She tried desperately to block his 
strikes with her hands. He grabbed her hair and 
pulled it hard. Maria grabbed at his wrist, trying 
to relieve the tension 
on her hair. He continue to spank her hard and 
repeatedly. The loud slaps of his hand against her 
buttox were barely droned out by her desperate 
cries of pain and fear. He stood and pushed her off 
his lap and onto the floor.
"When you can act like and 
adult, we will consider having children," he 
screamed. "But until then, you can just forget it!"
He stepped over her and 
stormed out of the room, leaving her sobbing on the 
floor. Maria slowly pulled herself onto her bed and 
laid on her stomach. She sobbed for a long while, 
then eventually cried herself to sleep. 
"Maria!"
She pushed herself up, 
startled by her husband’s stern voice. The clock on 
her night stand showed 7:23 PM. She walked into the 
living room and found her husband sitting in his 
recliner, dressed in sweat pants and a sweat top, 
and watching a football game.
"I’m not that hungry 
tonight," he said casually. "How about just making 
me a sandwich and getting me a beer?"
Maria was stunned and 
furious, although she did not let it show. It was 
as though the beating which she had endured just a 
few hours prior hadn’t happened at all. She went to 
the kitchen and removed some bread and cold-cuts 
from their large refrigerator. She prepared him a 
deli sandwich just as he liked it, and poured him a 
beer. She placed his dinner on a small tray, then 
carried it into the living room.
"This looks delicious," he 
said, taking the tray from her as he sat in his 
recliner. "Sit down," he said. "Watch the rest of 
the game with me."
Maria leaned over the arm 
of the large couch and rested on her hip, her 
bottom still stinging from her husbands strikes.
Nine o’clock rolled around, and the game was over.
"Will you take this, 
please?" John finally spoke, holding up his tray.
Maria slowly rose to her 
feet and took her husband’s dirty dishes. He looked 
her over from head to toe. She stood wearing only 
her white blouse and dark skirt.
"Why don’t we go to bed early tonight?" He asked. 
It was his subtle way of telling her that he was in 
the mood for sex.
"I can’t tonight," she 
lied. "I’m having my period."
John frowned at her 
angrily. "There are other ways you can please me," 
he said sternly. "Now go to the bedroom and put on 
something nice. I’ll be there in a moment."
She took the dirty dishes 
into the kitchen and placed them in the dishwasher, 
then returned the tray to its cabinet. She walked 
past her husband without looking at him and went 
into their bedroom. She removed her clothes and 
wrapped herself in her fine silk robe, then went to 
the medicine cabinet and took her husband's 
medication. She took a glass from the counter and 
filled it with water, then sat at her vanity table. 
She sat slowly, flinching with pain as she rested 
her weight on her stinging buttocks. 
She opened the small bottle 
and dumped its’ contents into her hands. She looked 
at the handful of tiny pink pills, then looked upon 
herself in the mirror.  Her face was red, her 
hair a mess. Rage and anger flowed through her 
veins. And though her prayer escaped her lips as 
only a whisper, within her heart she was screaming.
"Father into your hands, I 
commend my spirit. Father into your hands... Why 
have you forsaken me... in your eyes, forsaken 
me... in your thoughts, forsaken me...in your 
heart, forsaken me? Trust in my self-righteous 
suicide. I cry when angels deserve to die."
She forced the handful of 
pills into her mouth, then took a long drink of 
water. There was a loud, fierce pounding at their 
front door. It startled Maria so much that she blew 
the water and pills from her mouth and all over her 
vanity table. She looked at the mess in dismay and 
sighed.
"What the hell?" She heard 
her husband say.
She quickly walked to the 
front door, arriving there just as her husband 
opened it. Before him stood the tall thin man from 
church, accompanied by a tall black man she’d never 
seen before. They both wore the tan and green 
uniforms of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s 
Department.
"John Smith?" The thin man 
inquired.
"I am Doctor Smith," he 
responded. "What is the meaning of this."
The thin man grabbed onto 
John’s shirt and pulled him from the doorway, then 
threw him down on his own front lawn. The black 
deputy then drove his knee between the doctor’s 
shoulder blades, and the two wrestled his wrists 
into handcuffs.
"What the hell are you 
doing?" John demanded. "Get off me!"
"Mr. Smith," the thin 
deputy said athorativly. "You are under arrest for 
violation of 273.5 P.C., Felony Spousal Assault."
They lifted him to his 
feet.
"What the hell are you 
talking about?" John protested. "I don’t beat my 
wife!"
"Deputy Collins," the thin 
man said calmly. "Did you hear the sound of 
slapping and cries for help just now as we passed 
this resident?"
"I sure did," the black man 
answered.
"What?" John screamed. 
"What kind of setup is this!"
They escorted the doctor to 
their awaiting radio car. As they rounded the side 
of the house to the driveway they came face to face 
with Father Alcocer.
"Father," John pleaded. 
"Tell these fools to let me go!"
Father Alcocer looked upon 
him sternly. "May you see the error of your ways," 
he said. "And my God have mercy on your soul."
John looked upon the priest 
with confusion. The two deputies forced the good 
doctor into the back seat of their patrol car, then 
the thin man approached the priest.
"He’ll probably make bail 
by tomorrow evening," the deputy said.
"That will be plenty of 
time," the priest said happily. "Thank you so much. 
I know you two are taking a great risk by doing 
this, but I assure you, it is God’s work you do, 
and He will protect you."
The deputy smiled. "Take 
care, Father." He looked to Maria and smiled, then 
went to his car and drove away.
Maria ran to the priest. 
"Father," she gasped. "What’s going on?"
"Go and pack some things," 
the priest said. "Tomorrow I want you to go to the 
bank and see Mr. Selheim. He will help you withdraw 
a substantial amount of money from your husband’s 
account." He reached into his pocket and removed a 
plane ticket, then handed it to Maria. "You’re on 
the twelve o’clock flight to El Paso  omorrow 
afternoon. Your sister is expecting you. 
"When you get there, go to 
the William Beaumont Army Medical Center. Ask for 
Dr. Batson, he has a job in their pediatrics ward 
which needs filling."
Maria looked upon the 
priest with absolute shock.
"I told you I had 
connections," Father Alcocer said with a smile. 
"You are free, my child. Go now. God loves you, and 
so do I." 
The End
(Or the beginning. It depends on how you look at 
it.)

      
      
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