I couldn’t meet Mary’s eyes at dinner. I wanted to, wished I could imprint her face on my memory, but every time I glanced at her, she was looking at me.
Even when she sat next to me that night to read, I couldn’t focus. I wanted to hold her hand, feel the soft skin covering the delicate bones of her fingers, just one more time. But I couldn’t do it. That would make it worse, harder.
As she rose to go upstairs to bed, I watched her. In the doorway just ahead of me, she turned, her lips parted. “My last day of thirteen.”
I fought every muscle in my body that suddenly wanted to grab her in a hug. “Happy almost birthday.” Could she tell my smile was different?
“What’d you get me?” I loved hearing her voice when she was teasing me. She was so smart, so strong. But sometimes when she looked at me like that, I felt something like shyness, like she was trying something new out.
But I hadn’t gotten her anything and I was going to be gone. My smile tried to fall away, but I forced it to stay. “Wait and see.”
She didn’t say anything and didn’t go into the house. She just stood there. It seemed like every cell in my body was being pulled to her as if she had her own gravity. I felt my breath disappear, my chest going hollow.
She stepped closer; I stumbled back, terrified that somebody would see. We were back on the porch. She pulled the door closed. I couldn’t take my eyes from her face. The next second, her hands were in mine. So warm. My heart stuttered.
“You already gave me a present,” Mary said. Her cheeks glowed pink in the porch light.
“So did you.” Sweat trickled down my spine. Her thumbs stroked the back of my hands, leaving trails of heat behind. A soft, slightly sweet smell came from her. Did she wear perfume? How had I never noticed it?
She had never been this close before.
I felt like I had to do something, show her how I felt. But my mind was blank, empty.
She drew closer, standing higher on her toes. Her hands tightened in mine. I felt like my entire body was on fire.
Her lips touched my cheek, warmer and softer than anything I’d ever felt. My skin erupted in tingles and I pulled her hands closer to me. Too soon, her lips were gone, leaving a cool, empty spot behind on my burning skin.
She pulled her hands free. She looked up at me from under heavy-lidded eyes. She seemed almost embarrassed.
“Mary.” I reached for her hand again. “You—“ I stopped, staring at her. She was so brave, so incredible. “You’re the most amazing, coolest—“
She pulled her hand free again. “I just wanted you to know how I feel.”
Transfixed by her, I wanted to touch the spot she had kissed. Had it left a mark? I hoped so. “You’re beautiful.” I didn’t realize I’d said it aloud until a smile burst across her face.
She stepped closer to me, squeezed my wrist, and whispered. “You’re beautiful too.”
Then she was through the door and gone.
Chapter 35
I didn’t remember going up the stairs or getting into bed. My mind kept replaying the events on the porch in an endless loop. Her hands in mine, her lips on my cheek, what she’d said. Three words. Not the words I kept saying to her in my imagination, but words that meant the same thing.
And I had to leave. Tomorrow Miriam would find out about the money. Life for us kids would change forever. And I would have to confess, of course. They would know why I took it, since Esther had run away too. I would never get away. They would probably tie me up or make somebody like Ezekiel watch me every second of every day.
I wouldn’t be able to spend time with Mary anymore. I probably wouldn’t ever leave the house again. Or at least until I was eighteen.
Was staying worth it?
Not if I would never be able to spend time with Mary again.
By leaving tonight, I made sure that everything would work out okay. Mary and I would be together again. Soon, I hoped. I just had to find my father. The guy who I’d never met.
At 1AM, I crept out of my bedroom, wearing my backpack and carrying my shoes over my shoulder. The house sat dark and totally still. I glanced down the hallway. No lights shone under doors.
Reaching the front door with only a few creaks from the stairs, I eased it open and slipped out, closing it carefully behind me. I slipped my shoes on at the edge of the porch and tied them. The gravel of the driveway crunched under my feet, so I took longer strides and reached the grass fast. Using the light from the stars and a half moon, I jogged down the hill, skirting the goose pond, and into the woods.
At the edge of the tree line, I stopped and turned, taking a final look at the house. Bye. Fundamental Faith in God, you suck. Twits on a string.
Mary, I’m sorry. Please find that note soon.
Her face had been so close. I should have taken the chance, kissed her back. But a real kiss. Not only on the cheek.
Not now. I dug my flashlight out of my pack and used it to help me find the cabin. Once there, I unearthed the bag of canned food, transferring the cans to my backpack. I pulled the can opener I’d stolen from the kitchen that night out of my pocket and dropped it on top of everything.
I stood and settled my bag comfortably on my shoulders. I would go back to the driveway and follow it out to the road; I didn’t want to get lost in the woods. That would be a lovely way to get caught.
The night air refreshed me, finally cooling my cheeks after the time on the porch with Mary. What time was it? It didn’t matter. I had plenty of time.
I made it to the Pike without any problems, the steady song of crickets the only sound that reached me. I hung a left and made my way down the same road I’d walked down not all that long ago. Wow. Things had really changed. I felt older, more in control. Despite the darkness and trees, I felt only hope.
This would work out. I would make it to Chicago. It might be hard, but I would find my father. It might even take a long time. And if he didn’t want to have anything to do with me, I would make a life of my own. I would make an email address and keep in touch with Mary every week. If she forgave me for leaving.
She would forgive me. She had to.
The lights of a sleeping Cooperton appeared first as tiny dots, then slowly grew into neon signs and street lights as I walked. I had watched carefully during our last few drives into town to the library and YMCA. I knew that the bus terminal was a small building behind a motel, so I cut through a couple of parking lots to get there quickly. A bank I passed had a sign that said it was 2:05.
I really needed a watch. Maybe after I bought a ticket in Pittsburgh, I could find a cheap watch. I patted the wad of money in my front pocket.
Only three cars passed me as I walked. Not one was a police car, but I decided I should be more careful. After that I kept to small streets and finally made it to the terminal maybe twenty minutes later. There was a map of the bus routes with a list of departure times next to it. A bus would leave for Pittsburgh at 6:30 in the morning.
Perfect.
Now I needed to find a place to spend the night. I’d been thinking about this and had thought I might try the park that was down two blocks. I made my way there, trying to keep to the shadows.
This was nuts. Had Esther felt like this? Jittery and terrified and excited? I felt like a cop car would show up any second, probably with Officer Ambler driving, its lights and siren going. But I made it to the park without any trouble. I found a bench that was nestled behind some bushes and, using my pack as a pillow, curled up on it.
No rain, very little chill. This was going far better than last time. I’d be on my way to Pittsburgh in less than four hours.
The cold woke me. I’d been sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep, sure I’d be too keyed up. The last thing I remembered thinking had been about Mary’s kiss on my cheek.
Now I was shivering and blinking. My right side felt like somebody had pressed it hard between two rocks or something. I pushed myself up, trying to get my bearings. There was just enough light for me to make out the branch
es of the bushes behind the bench.
I stood and made my way to the bus terminal, sure it wasn’t six yet. As I trudged across the parking lot, I saw people gathered in the terminal. Alarm shot through me. Had somebody already discovered I was gone?
No. These people were drinking coffee. Three people stood outside the small building, smoke curling up from their faces.
A clock, its numbers in red, flashed the time. 6:15.
I had to get a ticket. I entered the terminal and found the counter. A lady blinked at me. “What can I do for you?”
“I need a ticket to Pittsburgh.” I stood as tall as I could.
“Only you?” The lady glanced around behind me.
“Yeah. Gotta get back home.” I had to keep it simple. I knew I wouldn’t remember a complicated story if I was asked for details.
She punched something into her system. “Ten-fifty.”
Seriously? I dug the money from my pocket and handed her a ten and a one.
“There’s your ticket and change. Bus leaves at six-thirty.”
Just like that, I held the ticket in my hand. Victory filled me. I tried to keep the smile off my face. See what a plan does for you?
I pictured the look on Saul and Luke’s face when they realized I was gone. Would David and Ethan be sad? Would any of the adults be sad?
I checked the clock. 6:19. Eleven minutes until I was home free.
I knew Mary would be sad. How long would it be before I could hold her hand again, maybe feel her lips on my cheek again?
My throat tightened. I found a water fountain. The cool water felt good, but I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The red numbers flashed. 6:21.
Her hands, her breath. Had that been perfume? Her skin was so warm. Her lips had felt so soft on my cheek, softer than anything I’d felt before. The lump in my throat grew.
Come on, it’s done. I was going to find my father. I was going to get away from the Faith and find my father.
How would Aaron take it? I could contact him through Mary, once I got an email address. He would understand. Maybe he could help me.
I looked up. 6:22. Would the cops come right before I got on the bus? Just after? Would they come at all?
A man passed me with a cup of coffee and a donut. Breakfast. I could get some in Pittsbugh.
Did I have enough money to get to Chicago from Pittsburgh? I would find out soon enough; the trip to Pittsburgh would take about five hours according to the chart on the terminal wall.
6:24. The bus would be here any minute.
My heart thumped the inside of my chest. I tried to keep my breathing calm, but a sour taste in my mouth distracted me. I was really doing this. I was finally getting away, finally going to find my father.
I could find him. Chicago was big, but I would find a way. I knew Aaron could help me.
Thinking of Aaron brought back the day we’d cut the window out. The mountain laurel. Aaron’s confession about him and Esther and Mal. Esther finding her mom.
I’d felt so alone until Aaron had showed up. Mal had left me, then had died. But Mary and Aaron had filled that place. Luke wasn’t so awful either, and Saul had his moments, even though the kid needed to lose that stupid guitar.
The bus pulled up to the terminal, hissing and rumbling. The driver got out and closed the door behind him.
Mal had left me alone. He had protected me and then he had left.
I watched the red numbers tick up to 6:29.
Mal had left me. He was my only family and he had left me.
And I was Aaron’s only family and I was leaving him.
Mary’s too, in a way.
The realization hit me so hard that I felt like thunder had exploded between my ears. Mal had run away from his family. And now I was too. I was running away.
From my family.
These last couple of weeks I’d felt like I had a home. Talking to Aaron, reading and spending time with Mary. Even throwing a ball with Sauly. They were my family, people who I knew and in two cases loved. And they loved me.
And I’m running after some guy who thought it was okay to leave me in a cult?
The driver reappeared and opened the bus, checking people’s tickets.
I stared at my ticket.
I remembered what Aaron had said that day in the cabin. That we can choose to not be alone.
What the hell was I thinking? I could give the money back. Well, all except for ten dollars and fifty cents. I could protect the little ones from the Faith. I could make sure Abraham didn’t push them around or beat them up. I could keep Ezekiel off them, show them how to stop fearing Miriam.
I could be their family, even though their real family didn’t care about them. Me and Mary and Aaron. We could be a family, weird as it was. And I wouldn’t be going back to the same place. The Faith would never be the same for me.
Moron.
I jammed the ticket in my pocket and took off running.
My backpack bounced up and down as I tore down the streets of Cooperton. I wrapped my hands around the straps and held it tightly to my back.
How do I get back without them seeing?
As I ran, I came up with plan after plan, tossing them all. None of them felt right.
I passed out of Cooperton and onto the turnpike. The sun had risen enough that I could see through the woods. I could cut through and make better time.
I found the spot I’d come out of that first time I’d run away. I jumped into the woods, dodging trees and bushes. Branches snagged on my backpack, catching at my shoelaces.
Do I try to sneak in the back?
No. There was no way. They would be gathering for Prayer Circle in a few minutes and Luke and Saul had probably already noticed I was gone by now.
I realized that was for the best. A new plan came to me, every part of it feeling right.
I focused on running, the heaviness I’d been feeling since Tuesday night gone from me. If I jumped hard enough, I could have flown over the tops of the trees to land on the driveway of the Faith’s house.
My heart pounding, my breath screaming through my throat, I flashed past the cabin. I whooped. It looked perfect, open. Ready. How I felt.
Minutes later, through the last row of trees, I saw the hill that led up to the house. I stopped running, not wanting to arrive panting like a crazed dog.
I leaned on a tree, my chest heaving as I sucked wind. I thought of the note I’d left in Mary’s book. Should I try to get it out of there before she saw it?
No. No lies. She needed to know everything. That way she would know exactly how much she had done for me. I would find a way to tell Aaron too. And I would bring Mary out to the cabin later today. Not as a birthday gift, though. Because she deserved to be a part of it.
I stood there for a minute getting my breath back.
I took a final deep breath, letting it out slowly, and headed up the hill.
As I climbed the hill, the green grass moist from morning dew, the fresh pine air filling me, I watched the windows of the living room. I could make out shapes.
This was going to be interesting.
Every organ under my ribs did a somersault as I stepped onto the porch. I took another calming breath and stepped to the door, opening it.
My timing couldn’t have been better. Miriam stood in the middle of the Prayer Circle, obviously expounding some of her wisdom.
The eyes of every adult swiveled to me. Aaron stared at me, confusion on his face. Luke and Saul shared a glance than also stared at me. David and Ethan sat next to Luke and they looked from me to Luke and back.
Sarah and Rachel, sitting in front of Mary, didn’t seem to have noticed anything.
Mary’s green eyes shone from the dim, lamp-lit room. She seemed to have taken in everything in less than a second: my backpack, my clothes, my flushed face. I couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
I saw all of this in the moment it took Miriam to react. “Joshua Kerr! What on earth are you doing?”
I
smiled. Something deep inside broke free and pushed out of me in a single, crazy loud laugh. “I’m not running away.” The abyss I’d felt before had changed. I didn’t feel empty. Now I felt open, ready to be filled up.
Miriam glared at me. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”
I let my gaze rest on her eyes, then found Abraham’s muddy brown stare. “It means I’m back. I’m here because I choose to be.” I met Miriam’s furious stare again. “For now.”
* * *
“You just gave the money back?” Luke’s mouth hung open. “Seventy bucks and you gave it back?”
“Well, minus the amount for the ticket,” I said. “But yeah. They needed to know it was me and that I was only here because I decided I would stay.”
“You’re insane. That’s a fortune.” Luke stacked the plate he was drying in the cupboard. “And why did you come back? You could have been long gone.”
“I know.” I drained my sink. “But this is home for now. You guys,” I slugged him on the shoulder, “are my family.”
“But this place sucks,” Luke said.
“Only if you let it,” I walked out of the kitchen.
The events of the night and morning raced around my head, making me wonder if I should have done things differently. After Miriam had tried grilling me about what I’d been planning, but I had shown zero interest in talking to her, she’d given up. I think she knew that I wouldn’t do any of the punishments she would threaten.
It was still the boys’ week to do breakfast dishes, so I had pitched in. I felt like I was watching two shows: one from outside of me and one from inside. From the outside, it seemed like nothing was different except for how the adults looked at me. From the inside, everything was different.
We had a few minutes before classes, so I went looking for Mary. She wasn’t on the porch, so I ran up the stairs and knocked on her door.
“Who is it?”
I loved her voice. “It’s Josh.” I stuffed my hand in my jeans pocket.
A second passed. “Go away.”
What? Terror clawed at my heart. Did she hate me for leaving? Please no. Please no. “Mary, please talk to me. I’m sorry.”
“You’re a jerk.”
Beyond the Cabin Page 28