The Greenbrier Resort

By Darrel Bird

The year is 2027 and the government has a place for Christian fundamentalists.
The government says that Christian fundamentalists are mentally ill people, and must be helped. The week end is over, the family has attended an underground church home. The father warns the family to put their Bibles away in the nook under the stairs, but 15 year old Kristen Lund is in a hurry to get to her room to call her friend about Mondays school test. She forgets, and takes her small New Testament to school in her purse. Her hell on earth has just begun, as she is yanked away from her family, and taken to a place under Greenbrier Mountain.

In her dark, and dank cell deep in the mountain her faith is tried and put to the test. A snail crawls slowly across her wall. This is not the place the government promised where the children would have horses and dogs to play with, her stomach heaves, but her hunger overcomes her as she takes the snail and puts it in her mouth and swallows. Her stomach revolts and she heaves up what little food remains.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Darrel Bird
• Release date: Aug 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301750665

Darrel Bird

Darrel Bird has written and published 47 short stories. He attended Bakersfield college, and is an avid motorcyclist.

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The Greenbrier Resort

Darrel Bird

Copyright 2013 by Darrel Bird

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Part 1

Kristen, I need the bathroom! Katie, Kristen’s younger sister, who had just turned twelve, pounded again on the door.

Alright!  Quit whining; I’m done!" Kristen walked out of the bathroom, bumping into her sister along the way.

Alright, miss clean! Katie looked at her petulantly and slammed the door.

You two stop fussing... Everyone will be ready for home church. You girls come to breakfast; you need to eat." Their mother finished packing the clean towels in the small hall closet, but she smiled secretly at her daughters, remembering what it was like when she was that age.

She pushed the button on the lift, thinking of the preparations she needed to make before they caught the early train to Denver. She barely heard the lift whir as it carried her down to the living room, which was just off the kitchen. She wished they had a car permit so they could see some of the scenery between their house and Denver, but then realized that the scenery would be mostly concrete barriers, and the cars that were allowed were guided by the signal embedded in the roadway. They went much too fast for the scenery, at over a hundred and fifty miles an hour.

I heard the girls bickering all the way through the lift duct. Her husband said this between sips of his tea.

They’re just normal girls... Tom… Do you think we will ever get a car permit?"

On my salary, Jenny? By the time we get a permit on a dentist's salary, we’ll be too old to get to the terminal and get into it.

Sometimes I just long for things we can’t have.

The Bible tells us to be content with what we have.

Do you really believe that book, Tom? Sometimes I wonder if it’s really real. Do you remember when people thought Jesus would return in 2015? It's 2027, and we are still waiting. We risk getting sent into a government hospital every Sunday morning just to gather with three or four people, not counting Mrs. Barnes, who is nearly a hundred and six.

Maybe we should mention your doubts to the pastor this morning... Perhaps he has some words that would help you."

Perhaps.

The girls came out of the lift. Katie gave Kristen a shove, nearly bowling her over the microwave stand.

You girls, stop that and get your Bibles from the nook, and don’t forget to cover it back up with the step carpet.

Lord, help us! Jenny looked at Tom, and they both laughed.

No one has inspected our apartment in two years, Dad. Why do we have to hide the Bibles? Kristen asked through a mouthful of toast.

Do you remember Mr. and Mrs. Larson? They inspected their apartment and found a Bible. They got shipped off to the hospital in St. Louis, honey.

Will the government ever bring them home, do you think?

I don’t know... It's been a year and a half."

Maybe it takes a long time to make us better, Dad.

"Honey… Niles Larson and his wife