Those Who Prey

by Jennifer Moffett

  A wave of sympathy takes over my thoughts. “I’m sure your dad doesn’t really feel that way,” I offer. “Dads who are busy like ours have trouble communicating. Or that’s what my stepmother always says, anyway.”

  “Well, at least you’re lucky enough that yours are divorced,” he says. “Mine are too caught up in appearances to ever have a shot at happiness with other people.”

  He obviously doesn’t know about my mother, and I don’t bother telling him.

  “I’m sure they’re both really proud of you. MIT is a big deal,” I say.

  “Nope,” he says nonchalantly. “Try again.”

  We stand through an awkward silence.

  “This was supposed to fix me.”

  I stare at him in confusion. “This?”

  “The Kingdom. It can fix anyone. For anything. Even if you’ve tried everything else. Any soul can be saved if you follow the right path. Didn’t they tell you?” His authoritatively sarcastic tone is making me uncomfortable.

  “So. Do you know what we’re doing?” he asks.

  “What do you mean?”

  “What we’re all doing. Here. There. All of us interns. Scattered across the world.”

  I stare at the ground. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been wondering the same thing since we’d arrived.

  He takes a drag, tilts his head back, and exhales into the air. “Have you ever been to the Leader’s house?”

  I think about it and realize I’ve only seen the Leader up on stage, preaching. “No. Have you?”

  “Well, I know where he lives. And no home is less than a million in his neighborhood.”

  I furrow my brow. “What are you saying, Andrew?”

  “I’m saying all of the mandatory tithing, those extra world mission fund-raisers—they are obviously not paying for our mission in this crumbling villa with barely enough food to survive. The reason I couldn’t hand out all my cards was because I was too nauseated from hunger. Josh and I thought Will would understand, but …”

  Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop. I close my eyes and think of Heather praying with me. Of my mother in heaven. Of how the Kingdom found me when I was lost. Yet my heart aches at the thought of my family and friends enjoying their summer without me at home. I’d imagined this trip as an adventure, Josh and I together at last. Confusion consumes me as new fears creep into the periphery.

  “My parents actually tried to convince me not to come here, you know,” Andrew continues. “They showed me articles in the Boston Globe about our church, but Ben said those articles are ‘spiritual pornography.’” He laughs. “Can you believe that’s the term for articles about our church? How ironic.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I snap, suddenly uncomfortable. As I start to leave, I catch a glimpse of his expression and stop. He looks like he’s about to cry.

  He takes another drag and blows out smoke in a long exhale. “Ultimately my parents left it up to me. They said it’s time I made my own decisions, including my own mistakes. They wouldn’t give me any money at all, so I had to work three different jobs up until the day I left just to meet the minimum tithing required.”

  “Why did you come, then?” I ask.

  Andrew quietly stares at the ground as an uncomfortable silence lingers between us. “The funny thing is, I joined this mission for them. Will promised this would make me a stronger person—the kind of son my parents could …” His voice cracks before trailing off. He stares into the distance.

  “Hey,” I say gently. I desperately want to make him feel better, to help him see we’re doing something important. “I’m sure if your parents understood what a big deal this is, they would be so impressed. We were chosen. We’re here for a reason—we have to be.” I can’t tell if I’m trying to convince him or myself, especially since I didn’t even have the guts to tell my own dad certain details about this mission. It’s like if I can convince Andrew it will assuage my own needling fear that this could all fall apart—that maybe it already is.

  Andrew gently squeezes my arm with his hand. His eyes are puffy and red. “Keep believing it, Em. You do what you have to do.” He pulls away and looks into my eyes with sincere affection. “Just don’t lose yourself in the process.”

  “Everyone come inside now! We are having an emergency meeting!” Ben’s voice echoes through the property.

  “Sounds like we’re being summoned,” Andrew says flatly. He takes one last drag of his cigarette, crushes it under his foot. He extends his arm to me with a sad smile. “Shall we?”

  I link my arm into his, and we walk back to the villa in silence. When we arrive, everyone is already gathered in a semicircle in the dining room. Will paces at the front of the room. Ben stands off to the side, his arms crossed and stance wide. He cuts his eyes at us. “Sit,” he hisses.

  I jump slightly at the sharpness in his voice. I hurry to take my place next to Kara, and Andrew finds his next to Josh.

  After a moment, Will stops pacing to face us. He’s paler than usual and is sweating profusely, but the anger in his eyes makes up for his ragged appearance. “Africa? Thousands. India? Thousands.” He starts to move again with an almost feral quality. “They’ve reached one thousand in London alone! I just got off the phone with the Boston elders, and do you know what they said to me?” He leans down directly in Andrew’s face. “Our numbers don’t … look … good.”

  I tilt my head down so as not to draw attention to myself. I notice Andrew gazing at the wall in silence. His hands are shaking.

  My heart is pounding as Will backs away to address everyone. His tone shifts to pleading, and for a moment, he seems on the verge of tears. “Where is our focus? Are we lukewarm? Have we forgotten our mission? Have we allowed sin into our lives? Do we need to pray and fast it out?”

  No one moves or speaks.

  “Look. I could stand up here all day and chew you out, but that would be a waste of time.” Will lifts his arms and we all stand up. Shannon begins swaying with her arms in the air just like some of the students in Boston would do at church. Lily follows along timidly. Kara and I stand still and quiet like the others.

  Will continues pacing, much like the Leader in those Boston Garden services. “We need to be out recruiting, amen?”

  We shout, “Amen!”

  “Showing the path—the only way—to salvation in God’s Kingdom.”

  “Amen.”

  “Baptizing brothers and sisters.”

  “Amen.”

  “We cannot lose sight of our focus. Not even for one single minute.”

  “Amen.”

  “We are here to multiply members.”

  “Amen.”

  “To crank the numbers.”

  “Amen.”

  “Tell me why we are here,” Will shouts.

  “To save souls,” we say.

  “What was that?”

  This time we practically shout: “TO SAVE SOULS!” I barely recognize my voice when I say it.

  Such a Person

  We baptize Eva Jane Johnston in our bathtub.

  We crowd around holding hands when she sloshes into a reclining position, her jean shorts and DKNY T-shirt darkening in the water. Being crammed together in that tiny bathroom reminds us that we’re a close family, and converting someone like Eva makes us feel important. Will is beatific, his enthusiasm contagious, and we’re all smiling more now than we have in the whole week we’ve been here.

  Josh squeezes in between me and Kara for the ceremony. His warm hand closes around mine. We have not had a single moment alone, yet as I stand here holding his hand, I can tell we’re still connected like we were in Boston. Our hymns echo against the tile of the small bathroom, our voices intense and ethereal, like sounds in a tightly contained cathedral.

  Will submerges his arm under Eva’s shoulders. Her long blond hair fans out as she eases down into the water. The tub is too short for Eva’s legs, so her bony knees stick out of the water awkwardly. Will closes off her nose and dips her
head under, then pushes her knees to the side to be sure she’s completely submerged, and, in that moment, Eva becomes the most important member of our family in Italy.

  She breaks the surface with a dramatic gasp and a squeal. We clap. We hug one another. We sing praises. Eva stands up and the water pours off her body. She hugs each one of us, leaving a wet imprint down the front of our clothes and puddles of water on the floor. She throws her arms around Will and kisses him on the cheek. “I’m so proud to be a part of this,” she says, beaming, looking around the bathroom at each one of us. We have to steady ourselves and hold on to each other so we don’t slip and fall on our way out.

  Eva is assigned to Shannon for intense discipling. She follows Shannon around like a hyper puppy, constantly asking her what to do, what she thinks, what she wants. “How do I handle this?” is her signature question. Something about their dynamic makes me feel sorry for Eva.

  Will decided Eva may continue working as a model, so long as she stays on track with her BTs and QTs and contributes her part to the mission. From what I can see, Eva doesn’t seem to have any interest in money, or even a concept of its power; she’s so eager for approval, she probably would’ve consumed that entire tub of bath water just to stay in the good graces of the Kingdom.

  Shannon is delighted to have two disciples, but it’s clear that Lily is being slighted. Shannon and Eva begin fasting together. “To improve the odds of our mission,” they say, their arms around each other’s shoulders. It’s hardly been a week since Eva’s baptism when I’m on my way to take a shower one morning and see Shannon rummaging through Eva’s clothes. I look around the room, but Eva isn’t there.

  “What are you doing?” I ask.

  “Eva’s working,” she says distractedly, still checking herself in the mirror. “She said I could borrow something to wear.”

  Shannon looks so different standing there in black stirrup pants and a loose sweater. Her crowded facial features and permed hair seem out of place in Eva’s clothes. The only thing they have in common physically is clothing size. Shannon has been fasting off and on since the day I met her. For once I’m grateful to be paired with Kara as my DP.

  Kara’s approach is so different, or maybe “hands-off” is the better way to describe it. I still don’t understand what Kara expects of me. She hasn’t offered me much spiritual direction beyond making it clear by her general evasiveness and long bouts of silence that she prefers being left alone. Even at night, Kara is rarely around when I fall asleep. I usually take advantage of the alone time to catch up on my QTs, but this one particular night I decide to go for another walk in the vineyard. Something about Tuscany has started reminding me of home: the winding roads lined with wildflowers, the quiet landscape, the night sky cracked open with stars.

  When I stop to catch my breath, the faint sound of voices drifts from beyond a row of vineyards. Lily is talking. As I edge closer, I hear Andrew. In a small clearing beyond a patch of gnarled olive branches, I can see both of them sitting on a blanket. They sound cheerful and at ease, so I follow the voices.

  “Hi,” I say awkwardly, afraid I’m intruding on their time together.

  Lily gasps. “Oh! Emily, you scared me!” She laughs nervously.

  Andrew stands up. At first, he seems afraid. “What are you doing here? Are you following us?”

  “What? No. Just taking a walk.” I gesture to my gym shorts. “What are y’all doing? Where’s Shannon?” I ask Lily. It’s an innocent question, but I can see why they don’t take it that way at first. We’re supposed to stick close to our disciples, and I’ve never seen them apart. Also, technically, we’re not supposed to be alone with the opposite sex, a strict Kingdom rule. I belatedly realize why Andrew is defensive, but I was with him for a while the other night, and he didn’t seem fazed.

  “Probably with Ev-ah,” she says, adding emphasis to the “ah” sound, as if giving it a snooty accent from somewhere other than a small town in Texas, where Eva grew up. Lily gives me a defiant look. “Where’s Kara?”

  “Asleep,” I lie. I don’t think Lily’s trying to be confrontational, but sometimes it’s hard to tell under our strict circumstances. The truth is I never know exactly where Kara is. I do know she’s rarely in our room or with me when we’re supposed to be recruiting together.

  “Lily and I were just talking about family,” Andrew says. He glances at Lily as if to say he knows I’m cool with all this.

  “Oh. You mean our new addition? Well, I don’t think Eva is having a difficult time adjusting,” I say.

  “No, Em. Back home.” Andrew sounds annoyed that I don’t get it. I’m even a little embarrassed that my actual family wasn’t my first thought.

  “I’ve been missing my brother,” Lily explains. “I’ve been having these weird dreams lately, and I really want to speak with him. We’ve never gone more than a week without talking.”

  “Then call him,” I say nonchalantly, but I suddenly realize it’s been almost two weeks and I haven’t called home yet either, partly because I haven’t had the opportunity, partly because I’m scared Dad will ask too many questions and I’ll say the wrong thing. I’m hoping the letter was enough.

  Then Lily begins crying. She looks so small and vulnerable sitting on the ground, her long dark hair falling over her face. “I can’t call him.”

  “Shannon won’t let her,” Andrew says.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Are we allowed to ask questions like that?” Andrew asks sarcastically. He stands up and levels a glare at me. “What does Kara allow you to do, Emily?” he challenges.

  “Pretty much anything.”

  “Well. Lucky you,” he snaps.

  “Hey. I didn’t ask for Kara. I honestly don’t even really know what I’m supposed to be doing half the time.”

  “If you’ve been blessed with that luxury, then why don’t you just shut up and appreciate it. I would kill for that opportunity,” he says. And, without even a polite good-bye gesture, he walks back toward the villa. I can’t tell if he’s mad at me, or maybe just at the entire situation.

  “Please, please don’t tell Shannon about this,” Lily says to me, her arms are wrapped around herself awkwardly as if she’s afraid. I sit down beside her. She gets very still and quiet.

  “Emily,” she says. She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes full of pain. “I just miss my family. I want to make sure they’re okay.” She pauses. “I want to go home,” she whispers.

  “Oh, Lily. I’m sure you’ll feel better if you can just call them. I’ll help you. We’ll figure this out.”

  Lily throws her arms around me in a violent hug and pulls away. Her eyes are wild. “You’re such a nice person. Would you really do that for me?”

  “Of course,” I say.

  * * *

  The next morning, I ask Kara if I can recruit with Lily.

  “Sure,” she says without hesitation.

  I study her mood.

  Kara widens her eyes with impatience. “Really, Em. It’s fine. I need to take care of a few things around here anyway,” she says.

  “Okay. But can you convince Shannon to let me recruit with Lily by ourselves?” We both know this is the real obstacle, yet saying it out loud makes it sound like an odd request.

  For a second, Kara seems intrigued, like she’s going to ask questions, but her expression quickly shifts. “On one condition.”

  “Yes,” I say. “Anything.”

  “If you’ll take me to that pool you found,” she says.

  “Deal,” I say. “Wait. Do you really think you can convince Shannon without her suspecting anything?”

  Kara gives me a look that says I’m an idiot for even asking.

  As soon as we get to town, Lily finds a pay phone and inserts an orange card.

  “Where’d you get that?” I ask.

  “Andrew.” She smiles a wide smile as she dials a succession of numbers.

  “What was his problem the other night?” I ask.

 
; “Oh. I don’t know. He just gets so cranky about everything. Will really has it out for him.” Lily turns to the pay phone and breaks into rushed Spanish. I try reading her tone and expressions. Her eyes widen and glass with tears as she says her brother’s name. And then a word I understand: No, no, no, no, no.

  She hangs up the phone and staggers, her chest heaving with each breath.

  “Lily? Are you okay?”

  She looks at me almost as if she doesn’t know who I am, and then she starts to run. I take off after her. “Lily!” I yell, but she keeps running down the winding narrow street. I can barely keep up. She’s screaming as if she’s in physical pain. I run faster until I nearly fall over her body slumped against a building. She’s sobbing violently.

  “Lily. Hey. It’s okay. It’s Em. Tell me what’s wrong.” I stroke her back gently, then sit down beside her and put my arm around her. “It’s okay. It’s okay,” I say. She looks up at me, the tears still rolling down her face. “Alguien ayúdeme,” she whispers. She begins rocking, chanting it like a prayer.

  “It’s okay, Lily. Let’s just get back to the villa and get some help. We need to figure out what to do.”

  She grips my arm and begins to moan. She’s mumbling in Spanish again.

  “Lily. Can you tell me what happened? I want to help you.”

  Then she screams again, this time so loudly that I don’t know what to do. A few Italians poke their heads out of nearby shops. An elderly Italian man wearing a white apron moves closer to us. Lily grasps his arm. She seems to be pleading with him.

  “Alguien ayúdeme!”

  Several onlookers turn to stare at me standing there. The old man looks at me with caution, and I wonder if he thinks I hurt her.

  I carefully put my hand on her shoulder. “Lily. It’s okay. It’s okay. Let me help you.”

  Lily turns to me, her eyes glazed with a faraway sadness. She puts her head against my shoulder. The man in the apron nods and walks away, back-glancing with concern while mumbling something in Italian. Lily speaks quietly, as if telling herself something. “Marc was in an accident. He’s in the hospital. I don’t know …” Her voice trails off. She holds my arm, as if for support.