by Kate L. Mary
Father David got to his feet. “No, Willow, God wins.”
He held his hand out to me. I didn’t want him to touch me, but I was too weak to climb the rungs on my own and was forced to take it, just like I was forced to allow him to help me up the ladder and out of my prison.
When I finally resurfaced from the stinking hole, the bedroom lights were so bright I could barely keep my eyes open. Even squinting the way I was, my condition came into a harsh new light. My clothes were stained and torn, stinking, just like I was. I’d lost more weight than I’d realized, too, and what little bit of myself I could see looked skeletal. Father David had brought me to the brink of starvation during my punishment, and standing there in the bedroom, facing a different and much more permanent prison, I found myself wishing he’d just let me die.
“Mother Ruth will help you clean up,” Father David said as he headed for the door. He stopped just before he stepped out and turned back to face me. “And, Willow, just so you know, next time I have to bring you back to the commune, it won’t end like this. Next time, I’ll make sure you’re incapable of ever running again.”
The following day, I stood at Father David’s side in the worship hall, clean and repentant. Every member of the community was gathered in the hall, but I couldn’t drag my gaze away from the floor to even look out over the room. I was still so weak that my legs felt like they were on the verge of giving out, but Father David had commanded me to stand in front of everyone and atone for my sins. We had an agreement, so I did as I was told and played the dutiful Daughter of David.
He gave a moving sermon about forgiveness and welcomed me back into the community. I didn’t move the entire time, and I didn’t look up. Inside, I was dead.
When I returned home to my mother, she barely reacted. I couldn’t tell if she was angry or disappointed, or even if she was glad to have me back. It stung more than anything else because I was giving up everything for her, but I still got nothing in return. Weeks went by before I was able to talk to her again.
The time following my punishment was more than a nightmare. My job at the hospital started, but Father David stopped by to check on me every day, and I would frequently catch him watching me from a distance when I was going about my daily duties. It didn’t matter, though, because I had no intention of running again. It wasn’t just my mother I was trying to protect. It was other innocent people like Annabel and Abe.
Thanks to Father David’s constant surveillance, I was never completely alone, but at the same time I was so isolated from everyone else in the community that I felt invisible. My friends had abandoned me, avoided me like I had a disease they might catch if they got too close. They looked the other way when they passed me, stared over my head like I didn’t exist. Even Angela, who’d been my closest friend for as long as I could remember, wouldn’t talk to me.
Over the next year, I went through times of crushing depression, times when out of nowhere the weight of my future would come down on me, making it almost impossible to get out of bed. My mother had withdrawn even more than before, and with my friends gone, there was no one for me to talk to or confide in. It felt like not a single person cared about me or wanted to be near me. I was utterly alone.
Then we relocated to Mt. David, and somehow leaving Texas and the ghosts that haunted me helped. Something about the woods made me feel stronger, and even though the future was just as horrific as it had always been, I began to feel more like myself.
Ironically, it was my mother’s marriage to George that really woke me up. The first time he hit her in front of me, it was like someone slapping me awake after years of being asleep. I grabbed the first thing I could get my hands on, which just so happened to be The Book of David, and swung it at his head with as much force as I could. It caught him completely off guard, and he actually stumbled and fell down. I hadn’t felt that alive since before my fifteenth birthday, and even though my stepfather beat me to within an inch of my life and I spent the next several days in bed, I was glad it happened. It changed things for me. From that point on, I wasn’t afraid. I could handle whatever life threw at me.
Chapter 12
I come crashing back to the present when Jared asks, “Where did they hide you?”
I sink to the ground under the willow tree, not caring if the ground is muddy or that my skirt is soaked through in seconds. “Father David’s house. There was a door hidden in the closet that led down to a small room, kind of like a cellar or basement. It had a dirt floor. It was empty, except for a bucket…” I close my eyes when the smells and memories threaten to overwhelm me.
“They kept you there the whole time?” Jared asks.
My eyes are still shut, and I move my head slowly, nodding. “Yes.”
It’s all there. The foul stink of the basement, the gritty dirt that stuck to my moist skin, my parched throat and dry, cracked lips. A shiver runs through my body, and I hug myself tighter. Father David is standing over me….
“Willow.” Jared’s voice breaks through the memories, and my eyes fly open. He’s kneeling in front of me, and his beautiful gray-brown eyes are full of concern. “What did he do to you?”
“Nothing, really,” I manage to get out, which is, of course, a lie. “Father David would leave me alone for days and then suddenly show up with water, asking me to repent. When I wouldn’t, he’d leave, throwing me some bread before locking me inside again. I made up my mind after the first visit that I wouldn’t give in to him. In the beginning, I think he believed he could change my mind, but as time went by and I didn’t give in, he realized he wasn’t going to be able to get through to me.”
“What made you finally change your mind?” Jared settles onto the muddy ground in front of me, his eyes still holding mine.
“I didn’t,” I say. “He found another way to make me cooperate. He threatened to kill my mother.”
Jared’s eyes grow wide, and he shakes his head in disbelief. “No, he wouldn’t do that. You must have misunderstood him.”
“I didn’t misunderstand him. I understood every word perfectly. He said God told him to do it. That it was all part of His plan for me.”
Jared tears his gaze from mine and looks down. He doesn’t speak, and he doesn’t seem to be able to look me in the eye. He’s probably trying to decide what to believe. I don’t try to convince him, though. It isn’t important to me whether he believes me, because I know it’s true. I was there. I lived that hell, and I gave in even though I’d sworn I wouldn’t.
“He wouldn’t have gone through with it,” Jared finally says, and when he looks up, I can see the certainty in his eyes. “He was just saying it to get you to stay. I know he’s crazy and he really believes all this, but I just can’t see Father David as a killer.”
“I think he would do whatever he had to, if it meant continuing what he’s built here,” I say, not taking my eyes off his, “but I understand if it’s easier for you not to accept that.”
Neither one of us says anything for a while. I lean back against the trunk of the tree, trying to gather my strength. It’s hard, though, pushing away the memories of my punishment. Knowing for certain that Annabel and Abe are dead doesn’t make it any easier. All these years, I’d clung to the hope that Father David lied, but now I knew he hadn’t.
“I remember the day you repented,” Jared finally says, and I sit up so I can look him in the eye again. “You looked awful. I didn’t know what they’d done to you, but Father David told everyone you’d been ill. That it was a punishment from God for leaving the community. He said once God healed you, you’d seen the error of your ways.”
“I was completely healthy when they found me.” The words leave a bad taste in my mouth.
“Where were you? You were gone for almost two weeks. Where were you staying?”
“Some people took care of me.”
I undo the button on my shirt again as I tell him about Annabel and Abe, the ranch, riding a horse, watching television, and eating cookies. I tell h
im how I felt cared for and loved for the first time in my life. That I found out what it felt like to have a real mother.
“What’s the deal with your mom?” he asks when I’m done. It doesn’t escape my notice that he’s picked up on the most important piece of information from the story.
“She’s a shell,” I say.
I’d never seen a snail before moving here. Texas was too dry for the little creatures, but shortly after arriving, I found a few clinging to the outside of my house. It was hypnotic, watching their little bodies slide out of the shell, their antennas wiggling as they glided toward their destination. It wasn’t until I found an empty shell, though, that I began thinking of my mother this way. About how she had once been filled with life, just like that little shell had, but how it had shriveled up and fallen out of her when my father died, leaving nothing but the casing behind.
“A shell?” Jared asks when I don’t elaborate.
“Yeah.” I undo with the top button on my blouse again. It’s loose from all the times I’ve fiddled with it, and I know I’ll have to fix it when I get home or risk losing it altogether. “Something in my mom died right along with my father and brothers. I don’t know what she was like before, but she must have been different, because now she’s just an empty shell.”
He nods but doesn’t say anything, and we sit in silence for a few seconds. Me playing with the button that becomes looser with each trip it makes through the hole on my blouse, him picking damp blades of grass and shredding them slowly until there’s nothing left. It’s rare that I’m able to sit in silence with another person and feel so at ease, but it’s nice. Natural, even.
It also gives me time to think. About Annabel and Abe and my time at the ranch, about the stories Angela and I made up before her imagination was beaten out of her. About what things might be like if my father hadn’t died and I lived out there. Only I don’t know enough about that world to form a very good picture of it.
But Jared does.
“What do you miss most about the outside world?” I ask, turning so I’m facing him more.
When he smiles, his shoulders relax. “That’s a hard one. I was only ten when we joined the Children of David, so the things I loved then are a little different than the things I’d enjoy now.”
He gives me a crooked smile and winks, and I laugh. I haven’t laughed since I was fifteen years old, and I honestly never expected to again. But I also never expected to find myself in a situation like this. One where I met a man who occupied my thoughts with wistfulness and hope, instead of memories of fear and pain.
“When I was ten,” Jared begins, “I missed video games. Before we came here, I’d just gotten a Playstation, and I used to play games for hours every night. To a ten-year-old boy, it was the best way to pass the time.” His eyes light up, and I find myself smiling even though I have no idea what he’s talking about. Whatever it is, it wasn’t something Annabel and Abe had. “But I’m not ten anymore, and my tastes have changed somewhat. Although I’m sure I’d still love to play video games.” He lets out low laugh.
Finding it impossible to contain my curiosity, I lean closer to him. If I were braver, I’d reach out and take his hand. “What about now? What does nineteen-year-old Jared miss?”
His smile fades, and for the first time since we met, he looks uncomfortable. “I don’t know if that’s something we should talk about.”
His sudden mood change brings on a frown of my own. “Why? What can’t you talk to me about?”
“There are certain things a man wants….” Red creeps across his cheeks, and he looks away.
My throat goes dry. I hadn’t considered that part of him before now. Does he have the same desires David has? Would Jared look at me the same way if he came into my house and found me wearing nothing but a towel? Would he make my skin crawl? Would he have forced himself on me?
Even worse, what happens when Jared is betrothed?
The sudden urge to run away sweeps over me, and I scoot closer to the tree, pressing my back against it. Using it for support. We’re too close and too alone.
What was I thinking? Jared isn’t like me. He’s a man. Despite the disarming smile and the twinkle in his eyes, he’s one of them. He’ll get betrothed, and he’ll have a night alone with his future bride, a girl who will be just like I was. Fifteen and totally innocent. And just like David, Jared will fulfill his duty.
My stomach churns at the thought. When that happens, I won’t be able to stand the sight of him anymore. He’ll be different in my eyes.
He’s still staring at his hands, and the red that crept across his cheeks a few seconds ago has spread to his ears. I compare him to David, putting the two side by side in my mind. The man I’m about to marry is nothing like the one in front of me right now. As repulsed as I am by the idea of his betrothal, I know Jared isn’t dangerous. Not to me. Not right now. And at the moment, he’s the only thing keeping me from thinking about my upcoming marriage every second of every day. I’m enjoying myself for the first time in a long, long time, and I’m not willing to let that slip away.
“You’re right,” I say, “we shouldn’t talk about that.”
Jared nods, but he still won’t look at me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Even worse, the closeness that had developed between us seems to be lost.
He keeps his head down as he goes back to picking blades of grass, shredding them one by one, while I return to playing with my button.
There has to be a way to get the carefree mood back. No matter how inevitable the end of our friendship is, I want to hold on to what we have for just a little bit longer.
“For me, it’s chocolate chip cookies,” I blurt out in desperation. “Annabel made them for me a couple times. She even let me help. They were delicious.”
Jared’s face lights up, and he finally raises his head. There’s still some distance in his eyes, but I can tell he wants the same thing I do. For us to relax and enjoy this time together.
“I miss that, too. My mom used to make them. Sometimes, she’d have some ready for me when I got home from school. I’d eat an entire plate of cookies while I did my homework. Those were the good days, though, before my brother died.”
No. We can’t talk about death or anything else sad. We need to stay on track. To make the most of the time we have.
“What else?” I ask, scooting closer. “What else do you miss?”
He smiles again, and this time it lights up his eyes. “Riding bikes with the kids in my neighborhood, going to the movies, and eating junk food. Pretty much everything.”
I laugh again, because he reminds me of a kid when he talks about it. I can picture him like that. Ten years old, running through a pretty neighborhood lined with green trees just like in the shows I watched on Annabel’s television. It sounds wonderful, and for a split second, I’m jealous that he had ten years of freedom when all I got was two weeks. But then a big smile spreads across his face, and the jealousy fades away. No, he deserved that happiness.
I smile and laugh while Jared tells me stories about growing up on the outside. Occasionally, he talks about something I’ve never heard of, and I have to interrupt him, but mostly I just listen. It’s nice, talking about the outside world and enjoying myself for once. When was the last time I was able to sit and laugh with someone? Not since Angela, really. Even with Annabel, I couldn’t relax. I was always haunted by the fear that Father David would show up.
With Jared, I’m somehow able to escape all my worries and be genuinely relaxed and carefree the way I haven’t been in years, and I can tell he feels the same way. It’s in every move he makes and every smile he gives me. He’s needed this as much as I have.
Too soon, though, it will end. My wedding is so close now, less than two weeks away. After that, things will never be the same.
If only Jared and I had found one another earlier.
Next to me, he shifts positions, wincing when he moves his ankle wrong, and I’m suddenly reminded of h
ow we met in the first place.
“How’s your ankle?” I touch his leg without thinking, and when my fingers brush the rough fabric of his pants, I jerk my hand back.
Why did I do that? I don’t touch people. Especially not men.
Jared’s eyes search my face then move down to my hand, which is balled into a fist. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking, but he must have noticed the way I flinch when we touch. Is he waiting for me to tell him what’s going on? I’m comfortable around him, but the idea of being that comfortable…
No. It’s impossible. I could never say the words. Just thinking about what happened with David makes my face burn with shame.
“It’s a lot better,” he says, making me jump.
It takes a second to remember what we were talking about, and when I do, I nod. “That’s good.”
“I still have a little bit of stiffness and pain when I move it a certain way, but for the most part, it’s almost healed.”
I force out a smile that feels like it will crack my face in half. “I’m glad you sprained your ankle.” A flush spreads across my face. “I mean, I’m glad we met. I’m not glad you got hurt.”
Jared chuckles quietly. “I knew what you meant.”
His crooked smile sends a shiver down my spine. Does he notice? Can Jared tell his smile turns my insides to mush?
“Me, too. If only it had happened sooner.” He moves closer, and I suck in a deep breath. “I hate thinking of all those wasted years here in the commune, always by myself. I could have been spending them with you.”
The lump in my throat returns, and I have to swallow it down before I say, “That would have been nice.”
His eyes have trapped mine, holding them captive. Only it’s pleasant. Not scary or threatening.
He’s still staring at me when he says, “We’ll just have to make up for lost time.”
It’s on my lips to tell him I only have two weeks left, but I don’t want to spoil the mood.