by Charity B.
They keep smoking weeds for some reason, making the room stink with the odd stench of it. My eyes are getting heavy, and I’ve felt like an outsider this whole night. I’m ready to go to sleep, so I can laugh with my brothers and make flower crowns with my sisters. I spend my slumbers at the creek with Zeb and walking the fields with Benji.
When I dream, it’s of home in the presence of Zaaron.
I tell Kaila I’m going to sleep, and even though she tries to get me to stay, she finally lets me go.
I’m so tired, and it still takes me forever to fall asleep. The noise and hard floor making it difficult to get comfortable.
Pain. It’s the first thing I register. Someone is stabbing me. Cries pour from my throat, and my hands fly to my stomach, finding no knives. My eyes flutter open to see Kaila kneeling next to me, crying. Her hands are shaking and wet. As my eyes adjust, the shade of red comes into focus. She has blood all over her.
I try to sit up when the excruciating feeling in my stomach intensifies, causing me to cry out before she shushes me.
“Don’t move. You’re going to be okay.”
I suddenly realize I’m wet. Ignoring her instructions, I yank off my blanket. When I see the blood pooled between my legs, bile rises up my chest. I throw myself to the side, releasing the contents of my stomach.
“Eww. Gross!” One of the children yells.
Sweat is all over me, sticking my clothes to my chest. I’ve seen enough miscarriages to know that’s what’s happening to me. Zaaron had blessed me with a child before I turned my back on Him. Now He’s taking back what’s His.
Kaila’s arms are around me, keeping me up as she whispers, “Jaida’s on her way. She’ll help you.”
True to her word, Jaida comes running down the stairs. When she reaches me, her fingers brush her lips in an attempt to contain her shock.
“Oh, Laurel Ann, sweetheart.” She kneels down next to me. “Are you okay?” I nod even with the tears drenching my cheeks. “Come on, hon. Let’s get you cleaned up, all right?”
She helps me stand, and Kaila rushes to my other side. “How can I help?”
“By getting everyone back to their rooms. I’ll deal with you tomorrow, Paisley.”
I can’t move very fast, though Jaida is gentle as she assists me up the stairs. If I weren’t in so much pain, I would question why we aren’t going to the girls’ wing. Instead, she guides me through the door behind the front desk that leads to a long, white hallway.
“This is the employee’s wing,” she informs me, opening a door that says: WOMEN.
The room is similar to a public bathroom besides the fact that there are rows of showers. Jaida walks to a line of lockers, and opens one without a lock on it, removing two towels and a rag.
“Do you need help, or will you be all right to shower alone?”
Going to the locker below it, she takes out two bottles. I try to smile at her in thoughtfulness as she sets the towels and bottles on the bench.
“I’ll be okay.”
She lightly rubs my shoulder and says, “I’ll be right outside if you need me.”
Slowly I make my way to the shower. I do have to say, of all the evil their technology brings, they got something right with instant hot water.
I wash the remnants of my unborn baby from my thighs, wondering who it would have been if I wouldn’t have sinned. I put my face in the water and cry a silent apology to him or her.
I’m sorry I took away your chance at life.
I know its soul is in the Paradise Star because it was conceived within the Anointed Land inside of a sanctioned binding. Its flesh had never entered the world, and therefore was never tainted—protected by the womb.
If I don’t make it there, just know I would have loved you.
I take my time washing my hair and skin because once I step out of the water, I’m scared I’ll feel different.
Turning the shower knobs, I step out and wrap a towel around me. I look at my reflection in the long mirror, wondering if I appear the same.
“We have to do something! That poor child.” Jaida’s voice rises behind the door, and I know she’s talking about me. I walk closer to hear what she’s saying.
“We don’t know the circumstances of the pregnancy. There’s nothing to do.” I’m not able to place the other voice, though it sounds familiar. I think it might be Peggy.
“Oh, come on, Peg! Does she look like she’s the type to sleep around?”
I press my ear against the door, hearing Peggy say, “Look, I respect that you’re in this to help the kids, but you’re too young to understand how difficult it is to get shit like this through the system. Especially without evidence. Unless Laurel Ann has said something and is willing to go on record with it, then you’re wasting your energy, Jaida.”
“Then what’s the freaking point? If we can’t help them, then why are we here?”
“We do help them, just maybe not as much as we’d like to be able to. I’m sorry. I feel bad for her too.”
“Fine. I’m going back in there to see if she needs anything.”
I rush back from the door and sit on the bench, grabbing the towel to start drying my hair.
Jaida smiles as she walks in and takes a seat next to me. “How are you feeling?”
“It doesn’t hurt that bad anymore. I’m just cramping.”
Leaning forward, she rests her forearms on her knees and sighs. “Can I ask you…” she pops her knuckles, “when you got pregnant…what were the conditions like? Was it something you wanted to do? Was it with a boy your age?”
My mouth freezes shut. My head begs to shake no, so I hold still. I mustn’t speak of anything to do with the Anointed Land to a Philistine, and I’m regretting ever telling Kaila.
Jaida’s hand holds onto mine, making me realize my silence is saying more than I intended.
“Did someone force you? You can trust me.”
I close my eyes because I wish that were true.
“No, Ms. McElroy. I was willing.”
3 years later…
“LISTEN, ZEKE, THIS ISN’T ABOUT you. This is between me and him. There’s no point in getting your hide tanned too.”
I tug on Mable’s teat, squirting milk into the Mason jar. Ezekiel clicks his tongue. “I hate the old man just as much as you do. You’re bringing him to the edge of his sanity, and I’m gonna help you push him over, so name it.” I can’t stop my grin. I’ve been pretty proud of some of my ‘stunts’ as Father calls them. Screwing the lid on tight, I shake up my concoction as he points to it. “What’s in there anyway?”
I hold up the Mason jar, swirling the contents. “Eggs, milk, and vinegar. I’m gonna leave it in here for a couple weeks, then I’m gonna pour it in the chalice before services.” He laughs as I hide the Mason jar inside Dandelion’s stall.
“That’s disgusting.”
I cross my arms. “You really want to help?” His grin is huge. “Fine. I already have an idea, but it involves Philistine trinkets.”
He adjusts his straw hat with a whistle. “Whoa. That’s going a little far, don’t you think? I mean, Zeb, come on. That’s literally playing with the Devil.”
“We won’t actually use them. We just need to make sure someone finds us with them in a public place. Then Father can’t punish us in private.”
“Where would we even get something like that?”
“I know someone. Just let me go alone because he might not give us anything if he gets nervous.”
Though he nods, the idea clearly has him uncomfortable. I leave the barn, climb up on the hay bale, and jump over the fence to go to Benji’s.
As I pass through the common ground, I wave back at those who raise their hands in greeting, grinning at the debacle I’m going to make.
With or without Zeke.
I vowed to my father I would never forgive him for Laurel Ann, and I have kept my word. From that day on, any chance I get to humiliate him, I take. Most of the things have been small, just enough to require public
penance—things he couldn’t brush under the rug. I’m taking away his ability to choose, just as he’s taken mine.
Benji doesn’t live far from the Henderson farm. It still makes my chest ache as I look at it, kind of like when I go to the creek. It’s the only place I feel close to her, but it hurts something awful. I wonder who she is now. Fear tickles my spine with the thought that she may not even be alive anymore. Not a day passes that I don’t think of her and regret not attempting to search for her. I could have protected her. While I know I probably wouldn’t have found her, possibly damning myself for no reason, the idea of living in the dark, new world doesn’t seem so terrible if I could be with her.
I pass by Benji’s barn when my steps are halted at the sound of muffled screams and cries. Careful to watch the twigs beneath my feet, I sneak to the partially open barn door. The smothered screaming hasn’t stopped for even a second. As I peek inside the barn, my eyes widen in horror, releasing tears I haven’t cried in years.
Benji is bent over the workbench with his trousers around his ankles and a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth. Tears wet his red face as his fingers claw at the wood of the bench. My feet sink further into the ground, making me immobile. All I can do is watch as his father, Jameson Johnson, shoves the wooden handle of a pitchfork deep into his ass.
“Is this what you want? Do you like this, you fucking sodomite?!”
Benji wails around the cloth in agony as the pitchfork is jammed back into him, jolting his body forward. I plead with my feet to move as he pulls the farm tool out of Benji, throwing it on the hay-covered ground. The blood dripping down the handle makes my insides twist to the point of nausea.
“If I ever catch you doing something like that again, I’ll kill you myself before the Prophet gets the chance to cleanse you. No son of mine will be a Nancy-boy.” Shaking his head, he spits on Benji’s back. “Your mother’s perverse, dirty blood runs through your veins. I should have made her take you with her.”
As if released by an unseen force, I’m finally able to uproot myself as Brother Jameson walks toward the door. I hurry around to the side of the barn, wiping my tears as I wait a few moments before peeking around the corner to watch him go inside the house.
Taking a big breath, I rush back into the barn. Seeing Benji sobbing and bleeding on the floor has me falling on my knees next to him. He’s removed the handkerchief from his mouth, his cries now much quieter. I reach out for him, but I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to make this worse.
“Benji,” I whisper. “It’s Zeb.” He sobs harder as my mind battles with my heart between confronting Brother Jameson and my need to tend to my friend. “Please, tell me what to do.”
He tries to lift himself with shaky elbows. “Help me up.”
I put my arms beneath his to assist him. “I’m so sorry, Benji. I should have stopped it. Why would he do that to you?”
“Help me with my pants,” he coughs.
“You’re bleeding.”
“I know, Zeb!” He cries, “Please, just help me get dressed.”
His blood is everywhere, and it gets on my hand as I adjust his trousers. “You’re really hurt. We need to take you to Doc Kilmer.”
“NO!” He lurches at me, immediately wincing in pain. “No, he’ll tell the Prophet.”
“Maybe my father should know! There’s nothing you could have done that would be worse than this.”
He shakes his head. “I’m fine, I just need to rest.”
I pace the floor, physically unable to stay still right now. I want so badly to grab that bloody pitchfork and return the favor to Brother Jameson. If I could only go back five minutes to stop this sooner. I just want to take away his pain.
I need to make this right.
“Benji—”
“You really want to help?”
“Yes, yes, anything.”
He leans against the workbench for support. “I have a place…my safe place. If you swear to never tell a soul, I’ll show you where it is.”
“How far is it?”
“Past the common ground, at the edge of the compound.”
My shoulders fall. He’ll never be able to walk that far. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back. I’m going to get the buggy.”
I look out the barn door, making sure I don’t see Brother Jameson. As soon as I’m confident it’s clear, I run as fast as I can.
I don’t think I’ve never gotten to my ranch this quickly. My side burns as I hurry around to the back of our barn and see the buggy isn’t harnessed.
Shit!
The barn door bangs open as I burst through to get a horse. I don’t have time for this.
“What are you doing?”
My heart bangs against my chest before I see Ezekiel leaning against a post, eating an apple. I rush out a breath in relief.
“You scared me. I thought you were Father. I need the buggy.”
“Why? What happened with the Philistine trinkets?” Taking the collar off the hook, he hands it to me.
I place it over the horse’s head and grab the lead. “Come on, Dandelion.” I click my tongue while I take her from the stall. “I just need it to help a friend. And I don’t know about the trinkets right now.”
“What friend?”
I sigh as we reach the buggy. “I’m not able to tell you that.”
He frowns at me. “Tell me, or I tell Father you took the buggy without permission.”
The response is so un-Zeke-like it would have made me laugh under better circumstances.
“Are you a child?” I buckle the traces as he crosses his arms.
“You’re clearly shaken up about something, and I want to know what it is.”
My nostrils flare. If I can trust anyone, it’s Ezekiel. “Help me finish this then you can see for yourself.”
Once Dandelion is harnessed, we jump inside. I gather the left rein and tug on the right.
Ezekiel tips back his hat with a raised brow. “Are you going to give me some idea of where we’re going?”
I realize I’m grinding my teeth as I try to figure out how to repeat what I saw. “Benji was who I was going to ask about the trinkets.” His open mouth matches his wide eyes as I snap the reins. I know she can go faster than this. “When I arrived at the Johnson place to ask him, I found his father…hurting him.”
He frowns. “Like lashing him?”
I shake my head, my chest hurting as I remember the horrible look of terror and torture on Benji’s face. “So much worse. He’s real messed up. He asked me to take him somewhere to heal in peace. Believe me, he’s in no shape to be walking.”
“I don’t understand. Why would Brother Jameson do that?”
Someone yells behind us to slow down as we ride through the common ground. “I don’t know.”
I yell at Dandelion to hurry up until I’m tugging on the reins to stop the buggy on the road behind the Johnson barn. “Come on, he’s back here.”
Running to the side of the barn, I hold up my hand to stop Zeke so I can check for Brother Jameson. When I see that the yard is clear, I wave at him to follow me. Once we’re inside, I find Benji lying on the ground. Fear wraps around me at the sight of his still body.
“Benji?” I whisper.
He groans, allowing me to breathe. Hurrying over to him, I feel sick when I see the blood seeping through his trousers.
“Holy fire of Zaaron! What did he do?” Ezekiel gasps. I nod to the bloodied handle of the pitchfork laying in the hay. All the color slips from his face as he shakes his head. “No…”
“Zeke, come on!” I yell, and he snaps out of his daze enough to help me hoist Benji to his feet. “Can you walk at all?” I ask him.
“Yes,” he coughs as more tears fall, soaking his cheeks. “I think so.”
We let him use us to lean on as we carry him back to our buggy. We try to be gentle, but every few steps he wheezes in pain. Finally, we get him inside, and I tug the reins.
None of us speak until we pull up
to the common ground. “Where is this place?”
Benji points behind the medical hall. “Stop here. We’ll need to walk the rest of the way.” I do as he says, and Ezekiel is quick to help him down. “I don’t usually come here when there’s still daylight…so both of you need to…keep an eye out. Walk straight until I tell you.”
Every word seems to be more painful for him than the last. I wish I knew where he could be taking us because I don’t want him to have to talk.
We no sooner take five steps into the open field when Sister Madeline’s voice sounds behind us. “What on earth are you boys doing?”
We all glance at each other as I stumble over my words. “We—er…we’re um…”
I turn to look at her just as her eyes travel to Benji’s trousers. She covers her mouth before rushing over to us. “My goodness, child what happened?!” Her eyes bounce between all three of us as her face falls. “Come along, hurry, get inside.”
She guides us through the back entrance and into the clinic. After assisting us in laying him on the bed, she instructs that we go into the waiting room while she works.
“What about Doc Kilmer?” I ask.
“He’s at the Garett’s house tending to one of the children’s broken leg.”
I know Benji doesn’t want this to get out, so I have to know. “Are you going to tell my father?”
She shushes me as she runs her hand over my hair. “I need to tend to Benji. The Prophet will not hear of this from me. You have my word.”
I sit in silence with Zeke for what has to be over an hour. The sun has begun its descent, casting a dark shadow across the room.
“What do you think he did?” Zeke asks in a low voice.
I scratch the itch on my brow and my stomach rolls.
If I ever catch you doing something like that again, I’ll kill you myself…
“From what I heard, Benji did something to give Brother Jameson the impression that he’s a sodomite.”
His initial expression holds horror, though his face quickly hardens as I stand to light a lantern. Sister Madeline emerges from the back, and we both meet her as she approaches us.