Beyond the Cabin

  Miriam dipped the first two fingers of her right hand in the oil then brushed them on Luciana’s forehead. Luciana jerked at the touch, but then held still. I easily saw the glistening spot that remained.

  “Are you willing to leave the trappings of the world and society behind and claim an inheritance of service?”

  “I am.”

  Miriam dipped her fingers in the oil again, then reached forward and brushed them on Luciana’s left elbow.

  “Do you come now, your heart free and your soul clear of sin so that God can accept you?”

  “I do.”

  Miriam anointed the back of Luciana’s right hand.

  “Will you give yourself to the Fundamental Faith in God, to live your life in community with your brothers and sisters and your God in Heaven?”

  “I will.”

  Miriam crouched and anointed the top of both of Luciana’s bare feet.

  “Then I accept you,” Miriam said, straightening. She looked out to the congregation.

  The adults spoke at the same time, “Then we accept you.”

  Miriam turned and set the bowl of oil on the altar, then spread her arms. “We welcome you, Luciana, to the faith that is founded on the rock of God. We welcome you.” She wrapped her arms around Luciana and held her for a moment.

  When Luciana was released, she turned to the congregation.

  “Accept her today, Brothers and Sisters,” Miriam said.

  “We will,” intoned the adults.

  I threw a glance Mary’s way. She caught my gaze. I rolled my eyes. She smiled.

  Luciana walked back to her chair and sat. I was surprised to see tears spilling down her hard, flat cheeks. She wiped them away with both hands as Miriam talked about something that was sure to be important to somebody.

  She actually means it. Luciana somehow believes this stuff. I looked around the room. Was it possible that most of the adults actually believed in the spiritual teachings that Miriam fed them? They must, or they wouldn’t be around.

  Why hadn’t I thought about this before? Why didn’t I believe it? Why did I feel like Miriam was speaking with her mouth, but never her heart, whenever she gave a sermon? Why did it seem like some of the adults were there for a different reason?

  Most of all, how could I believe in something that made me and the other kids miserable? Why would this God they talked about select Miriam out of millions of people to be his person on earth to run things? And if he had, why wasn’t the Faith bigger?

  And besides, I didn’t see how cutting yourself off from the world could actually change things for the better. How do you help a world you don’t even belong to anymore?

  It made no sense. None of it did. And sometimes it felt like—like the adults were almost scared to face up to that. The thought almost made me laugh.

  Ruth’s piano playing interrupted my thoughts. I had to admit that I enjoyed this part of the Celebration. It had started a few months ago. I guessed that this was supposed to be a meditative part of the meeting, in preparation for receiving the ‘spiritual light’ Miriam was going to feed us next.

  I preferred to let my thoughts wander. The piano music, unaccompanied by singing, filled the room. I imagined I was on a beach, the waves of the ocean crashing in to my left. Mary walked with me and we were holding hands. We were older. The sun was setting, making the sand glow orange and gold.

  Too soon, the piano stopped. Miriam got up and launched into the usual. I looked across the circle to see if I could catch Mary’s eye. After a few seconds, she glanced my way. I had no idea what I should do now that I had her attention. Does she have fantasies like I do? I raised my eyebrows. She did too. I stuck my tongue in my cheek, making my cheek look like it had a lump on the inside. She did the same. I scratched my nose. So did she. I snorted, trying to hold back laughter. Breaking eye contact, I quickly glanced around, hoping nobody had noticed. Estelle, sitting right in front of me, was glaring over her shoulder.

  I formed a contrite expression and looked away from her. I caught Mary’s eye again. She gave the tiniest of smiles and looked away.

  I looked around again, thankful that everyone was either listening to Miriam or in their own world. Propping my elbows on my legs, I bent forward and put my head in my hands. I could doze in this position and nobody bothered me. As far as I knew, I had never snored. I hoped Miriam would finish soon.

  * * *

  Lunchtime was always hectic on Sunday. There was no formal meal, so everybody ate what they wanted or could find. I hated the crowd, so I usually waited in my room until everyone was done. Today my hunger wouldn’t let me do that. I dodged grown-ups in the dining room, most of them talking to Luciana, and headed to the kitchen. Joan and Estelle were in there. I ignored them and found a nearly empty bag of bread.

  “Nice Celebration today,” Estelle said. “Don’t you think, Joshua?”

  I turned at her question. Why did she have to talk to me? Couldn’t I get some lunch without interruption? “Uh, sure.”

  “I think Luciana will do wonderfully in Dallas,” Joan said.

  “Oh I agree,” Estelle said, “but I expect some of us will need to go and help her get things started when the time comes.”

  “Of course,” Joan said.

  I tuned out the conversation. Whatever happened didn’t make any difference to me; I wasn’t going to stick around. I made a sandwich and headed for the door.

  “Joshua,” Estelle called.

  I turned, my mouth full. “Yeah?”

  “You need to show more reverence and respect during Miriam’s discussion.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Try listening some time. You can learn a lot from her,” Estelle said.

  I made a noise that I hoped she would interpret as an acknowledgement and I left. She’s not saying that for me; she wants to feel like she has some control here. The realization nearly stopped me, but I kept walking.

  As I crossed the dining room toward the living room, I heard a loud voice coming from one of the offices next to Miriam’s. Ezekiel again. I continued on into the living room, heading for the door. Man, he’s loud this time. I wondered what the kid being yelled at had done, wondered who it was this time. Does Ezekiel do what Abraham does?

  The question caught me off guard. Did he? I stood in the living room, considering. Ezekiel was just as much of a bully as Abraham in that he was always showing that he was in charge. But Ezekiel shouted all the time, while Abraham put up an image of being peaceful and calm, with his falsely soft voice. Did Ezekiel’s shouting mean he didn’t hit? Or did he hit too?

  I made up my mind. I turned and headed toward the shouting, eating my sandwich as I walked. At the door to the office where Ezekiel was shouting, I stopped. I have to do something. Taking a breath, I opened the door. Keep calm. Stay cool.

  Ezekiel stooped over little Sarah, haranguing her about something to do with respect for other people’s things. Her face was pale with fear. When I walked in, Ezekiel straightened and Sarah stepped back from the man.

  “Get out,” Ezekiel said.

  I stayed put, taking another bite of my sandwich.

  “Joshua,” Ezekiel said, his voice angrier. “This is none of your business. Leave.”

  I gave the jerk a tight smile, chewing on my suddenly very sticky PB & J. As long as I didn’t gag or choke, I’d be fine.

  Ezekiel took a step toward me. “I said to leave.”

  “I’m here to help.” The sandwich didn’t want to go down! Crap, I was going to choke.

  “I don’t need your help,” Ezekiel said, “and Sarah here needs to learn respect.”

  “Okay,” I said. I forced the sticky mass down my throat and tried to work some saliva into my mouth. I took a small step into the room, then moved so I could lean my back on the doorjamb.

  “So leave,” Ezekiel said.

  I stood my ground. I said nothing, but looked at Sarah. How could Ezekiel think that screaming at a five-year old girl was going to teach her?


  “Joshua!” Ezekiel said. “I said to get out!”

  I didn’t trust my voice, so I just stood there, crossing my arms. What the hell was I doing? I didn’t really understand the urge that had brought me here, but I couldn’t back down now. Sarah needed me and Ezekiel needed to lay off. I forced myself to smile nicely. Stay cool.

  “Who do you think you are?” Ezekiel said. “I am in the middle of something. You get out!”

  I looked at Sarah again. Her wide eyes showed confusion. You’ll thank me sometime. And even if she didn’t, I knew this was the right thing to do. Whatever this was.

  “Joshua! I said to leave!” Ezekiel’s already flushed face became practically maroon.

  I forced the last bite of sandwich down my throat. What exactly was I doing? I thought fast, trying hard to understand. I saw the fear on Sarah’s face.

  That was it. Fear couldn’t run our lives—or at least it shouldn’t. Ezekiel had to know that fear didn’t control me or any of us. Well, it did still, but that had to change. And it could start to change now.

  I had to be the one in control of the situation. I couldn’t let Ezekiel think he could control us kids or get away with shouting uncontrollably at us. Fear wasn’t the way to go.

  “Don’t you stand there looking all smug!” Ezekiel said. He took a step closer to me. “You will show some respect and leave. Now!”

  I straightened, stepping away from the doorjamb. I kept my arms crossed and my face settled in total acceptance. Focus class! My heart beating insanely fast, I stood as tall as I could.

  Ezekiel’s eyes widened. Suddenly the man seemed to shrink. He looked back at Sarah, then at me. “You’re going to have some explaining to do, young man. We’ll talk about this later.” He walked toward the door.

  I didn’t move away. I wasn’t going to move unless Ezekiel asked.

  Ezekiel gave me a wide berth and left the office.

  “How did you do that?” asked Sarah, her eyes wide and her mouth hanging open.

  I shrugged. I’m not really sure. I cleared my throat. “Ezekiel shouldn’t shout so loud. Did he hit you?”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “Good. Now hit the road.” I stepped away from the doorway.

  Sarah ran out.

  I followed her, my heart slowly settling down. That had to be the strangest, craziest thing I had ever done. But I couldn’t deny how great it felt to show Ezekiel that he couldn’t scare me, that he had zero control over me, when all was said and done.

  But for now, I needed some water.

  Chapter 32

  Tuesday afternoon’s algebra was an endless, living, pine-scented hell. I didn’t get how you could switch the equation to negative. Maybe I couldn’t understand what Penelope was saying because it seemed like she didn’t understand it either.

  “But that doesn’t make sense,” I said.

  “Whether it makes sense or not doesn’t matter,” Penelope said, her voice tight. She had seemed on edge all afternoon.

  “But I can’t do an equation without understanding how to do it, which means it has to make sense,” I said.

  Penelope, looking angry now, opened her mouth as if to retort. But she took a deep breath. “Okay. Look, take a few minutes to read the book. Work together or something. See if you can figure it out. I’ll be right back.” She walked quickly out of the classroom.

  I slumped back in my chair, totally stumped. It was like trying to crack some impossible code. I glanced over my shoulder at Luke.

  Luke was focused intently on his paper, his pencil moving fast. I watched him for a minute. Luke was actually doing the algebra in the book! I kept watching, fascinated.

  Luke must have felt my gaze, because he looked up. “What?”

  “You get this stuff?” I said.

  “Sure,” Luke said. “It’s not that hard, you have to change the way you look at it.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “It’s not history or something. You can’t just look at it and understand it. You have to see it differently.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” I turned back to my desk. How is it that Luke can do this crap and I can’t? I glanced over at Saul. Mr. Starving Artist was hunched over his desk too, working on something. “Do you understand this stuff?”

  Saul didn’t answer.

  “Sauly!”

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me you get this stuff?”

  Saul looked around, seeming to suddenly notice where he was. “Algebra? No clue. Penelope doesn’t have a clue either.”

  “No kidding,” I said.

  “You guys are morons,” Luke said.

  “Shut up!” Saul said.

  “You must be some kind of math prodigy,” I said. “Don’t they have idiot geniuses?”

  Luke glared at me, then grinned. “You wish. It’s not that hard.”

  I turned back and saw Mary looking at us. She didn’t have to do Algebra, since she was a grade lower than me and the other two. Penelope had set her to work on some worksheets while she lectured about the Algebra.

  “Why don’t you two ask Luke to help you?” Mary asked.

  I immediately saw her point, but balked at the idea. “Nah, I can figure it out.”

  “But you could do it quicker if he helped you,” she said. “Am I wrong?” She smiled as if to show she meant no offense.

  “Maybe not.” Now I was stuck. I didn’t want Mary to think I was a stubborn idiot, but I didn’t want Luke to think I needed him. I looked at my desk. Fine. “Luke?” I turned back to Luke. “How ‘bout it?” Maybe he can get an algebra scholarship if the football thing doesn’t work out.

  “Sure,” Luke said. He got up and went to the chalkboard.

  “What are you doing?” I asked. I glanced at Mary. She was holding her worksheet up to cover her face, but the paper was shaking so I knew she was laughing.

  “I’m gonna teach you how to do algebra, duh,” Luke said. He erased the board.

  “What about Penelope?” I asked.

  “Who cares? She has no idea what she’s doing anyway.” With that, Luke wrote the first equation we had tried doing that afternoon on the board. He started by explaining clearly where to begin.

  By the time Penelope came back, I was finally getting it. Luke didn’t see her so he kept going. Penelope stood in the doorway for a minute, surprise in her expression and the unmistakable, pungent smell of cigarette smoke wafting from her. At a pause in Luke’s explanations, she asked, “What’s going on?”

  “Luke’s teaching them algebra,” Mary said, laughter in her voice.

  “I can see that,” Penelope said. “Luke, are you sure you know what you’re talking about?”

  Luke made a face. “Uh, yeah. It’s not that hard.”

  “Then continue,” Penelope said. I glanced around the room, seeing my surprise reflected in the face of everybody else. Penelope went to her desk and sat. She nodded at Luke. “Go on.”

  By the time class was over, I had learned more in one afternoon about how to do algebra than I had in the entire year.

  “Luke,” Penelope said as we were straightening and storing our books.

  I kept working, but listened in on the exchange.

  “Yeah?” Luke said.

  “How would you feel about being our algebra teacher for the rest of the year?”

  “You mean all two weeks?”

  “Haha. Yes, I mean all two weeks. I’ll make you a deal. You teach the algebra and you won’t have to take the final test.” Penelope said.

  Luke answered immediately. “Sure.”

  “Good.”

  I looked up at Penelope. “Do we have to take the test?”

  Penelope turned a stern look at me. “Of course.” Then she actually smiled. “Unless one of you wants to teach Geometry.”

  “I’ll do it!” I said.

  “Just kidding,” she said. “I can handle Geometry.”

  I hung back while the others finished stowing stuf
f and headed out. Mary did the same.

  “Now see what you’ve done,” I said.

  “What?” she said too innocently.

  “Luke’s our teacher. And he doesn’t have to take the test!”

  “Well, you’ll understand Algebra now, won’t you?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I adopted a sullen expression.

  “Don’t thank me too much, now,” Mary said.

  I grinned. “Fine. Thanks.”

  She accepted the thanks as if she were a queen, nodding regally. “You are very welcome.”

  All I could think about was holding her hand again. Okay, that wasn’t all I could think about, but I wouldn’t let those other thoughts stick around. The hand was enough for now. “What are you doing now?”

  “Well,” she said, her voice going soft. “Somebody has a birthday in a couple weeks.”

  My heart skipped a beat. “And somebody else has a birthday in two days.”

  She smiled as pink painted her cheeks.

  “Well,” she said, “Don’t tell the other one, but we’re doing a song for him.”

  “Oh?” I forced my voice to remain casual. “How’s that going? And no song for you?” A grin tried to crack my face, but I held it back.

  “The old guy’s song is going fine,” she gave a crooked smile. “Except I can’t think of anything that rhymes with ‘Algebra,’ and I only have like ten days.”

  I burst out laughing. Was she seriously already working on a song for me? “How about ‘Can do Geometry better than the rest of ya’?”

  She made a face. “Too long.”

  I crossed the room, stopping in front of her desk. “You’ll think of something.”

  “I know.”

  “And you should have a song, too.”

  Her eyes glowed at me. “I think it’s maybe best if we spare everyone from hearing you boys sing.”

  “But that’s not fair.” It occurred to me that I should give her something for her birthday. We never gave each other presents—how would we without any money? But I had to do something for her.

  “Fair’s boring,” Mary said.

  We stood there looking at each other. “Maybe. But I’ll think of something.”

  “A song?” Her voice sounded playful.

  I gave her a mysterious smile and pitched my voice low. “Something.” I had until Friday. Three days. I could do this.