What She Left for Me

by Tracie Peterson

  She frowned, her brows knitting together. “Is that a bad thing?”

  “I don’t think so. People are terrified of it, however, because it’s different. Communism focuses on everyone sharing everything they have with one another. It encourages people not to be rich or poor, but to be equal. It’s just another way of living—one that even the Bible promotes.”

  “So if God wants us to live like this, why does the world hate us for doing that? I thought the Bible was a good thing.”

  “It is. But the world hated Jesus too. He even said so. There’s a verse that talks about how the world hates me, so they’ll hate you too. It’s the sad truth of how things are.”

  Eleanor tried to comprehend it all. It seemed so silly that people should strive so hard and yet be so miserable. She worked up her courage and asked her father the same question she’d asked her mother earlier. “Will the police come back again?”

  Her father leaned back on his stool and shrugged. “Probably. They really didn’t know about us before, but now that they do, they’ll probably hassle us until we choose to move or they haul us all out of here. They’ve already judged us to be lawbreakers; they’ll probably come up with a few more laws and come back to tell us how bad we are.”

  “But we aren’t bad,” she protested. “We’re good people. We were happy. Now I hate them and want them to stay away.” She hadn’t realized the anger that she held inside.

  “No, Ellie. You don’t hate them. It isn’t right to hate. You need to love them. Love them because it’s the right thing to do. They won’t understand it, but it will make you feel better.”

  Eight

  Eleanor went home in time to find her mother topless, taking in the laundry they’d hung together earlier. Nudity was common in the commune. Children were taught not to be ashamed of their bodies, and Melody had often told her daughter that this was how God had made people, and that was how they should stay whenever it was comfortable to do so.

  Eleanor had begun to grow very uncomfortable with the matter, however. She felt shy around other people and didn’t like the way they stared. Especially as her body began to change and develop. The entire matter distressed her mother, who said that despite her efforts to give Eleanor an idyllic world, her daughter just didn’t appreciate the effort.

  “God never intended for Adam and Eve to leave the garden,” her mother had once taught during homeschool. “And He certainly hadn’t planned for them to wear clothing.”

  Eleanor supposed her mother was right. She had read the Bible for herself and saw that Genesis indeed revealed this truth. But still, now that things had changed—since Adam and Eve had left the garden—perhaps wearing clothes was a better idea than going around naked.

  “Don’t forget,” Melody called from the line. “We’re going over to Star and Ringo’s tonight. I need you to watch the boys.”

  Eleanor nodded. Allan and Tommie were a handful, but three-year-old Deliverance and two-year-old Spirit were even more difficult to deal with. At least she could reason somewhat with the older two, but because of her mother’s rejection of discipline in any form, Deliverance and Spirit were completely out of control at times. If Eleanor so much as threatened to spank one of them as she’d seen Sapphira’s parents do with her younger siblings, Eleanor’s mother would demand she “cool it.”

  Eleanor hated being told that. She felt it was a complete dismissal of her feelings. It was as if her mother were saying that her frustration was unimportant—that her feelings weren’t valid. “Cool it” was her mother’s response to every single protest Eleanor had ever made.

  “Sapphira’s coming over,” Eleanor offered. “But we can watch the boys. No big deal.”

  Her mother turned and smiled. Her long silky hair blew gently in the breeze. She really is a beautiful woman, Eleanor thought. I hope I’m pretty like her when I grow up. Right now Eleanor felt totally out of sorts with her body. It seemed she was all legs and not very coordinated.

  “Okay, but like, feed the boys before you get all caught up in playing with Sapphira—is that cool?”

  Eleanor nodded and went into the house. All four boys were playing in the front room. Deliverance and Spirit were devoid of clothing, but Allan and Tommie still had on their pants. The boys were filthy from their day of play, but even then, they were never as dirty as some of the kids in the neighborhood. Most of the people weren’t keen on baths—mainly because no one had running water. If you didn’t go to the creek and carry water back, you didn’t have it.

  The smell sometimes bothered Eleanor. That was the one thing she found less than perfect about her world. It always seemed to stink. Whether it was pot smoke or dirty bodies, none of it appealed to her. Her father kept their household in better order than most, but only marginally. Melody often told her husband that he might be wrong about the medical value of cleanliness, and sometimes Eleanor thought her father was convinced that his very young wife might be right.

  Eleanor rounded up a bowl for each boy and went to the stove, where a vegetable stew was simmering. She spooned it up, mashed the vegetables for the younger two, then put it on the table with thick slices of bread. Her mother was a decent cook, but it was never anything too elaborate or exciting. Eleanor could remember one time when someone brought in a case of chocolate bars for the commune. The flavor had been unlike anything she’d ever known or had experienced since. She asked her mother when they might have some more chocolate, but Melody Templeton wasn’t at all supportive of the notion.

  “It’s not natural,” her mother had declared, and that was the end of the candy bar conversation.

  To Eleanor’s relief, supper went smoothly. Her mother and father slipped in, changed clothes, and left before the boys finished their food and began to fight. Eleanor shooed Allan and Tommie outside to play, while doing her best to clean up Deliverance and Spirit. She’d just finished when Sapphira popped her head in the open door.

  “Are your folks gone?”

  “Yes,” Eleanor replied in exasperation as Spirit refused to open his hand in order for her to wash it. Prying his little fingers apart, Eleanor gave a quick swipe with the washcloth and then let him down. “I’m going to put the babies in their beds.”

  Deliverance and Spirit howled at the injustice of being taken to their bedroom, but at least here Eleanor knew they would be safe and eventually fall asleep. The five kids shared a small bedroom where three rather beat-up mattresses were placed on the floor. There was nothing else in the room—there wasn’t space for anything else.

  “It’s nighty-night time,” she told the boys as she tucked them into their places on the mattress. No doubt they’d get up and play or fight with each other, but at least they were out of her hair.

  The boys cried and screeched from behind the closed door while Eleanor began clearing away the dinner mess. Sapphira wasn’t inclined to help but instead struck up a conversation.

  “They’re leaving.”

  Eleanor precariously balanced a stack of dishes. “Who’s leaving?”

  “Marty and her mom. They’re packing their car.”

  “Where will they go?”

  “Out there somewhere,” Sapphira replied. “I guess they’ll go live with Marty’s grandma and grandpa. My mom said that Marty’s mom hasn’t been happy in a long time and she always figured they’d leave.”

  Eleanor had heard the same thing from her parents. There were several people in the community, folks who hadn’t been there all that long, who never seemed happy. They didn’t cause trouble, at least; that was what Eleanor’s father always said. He figured that as long as they didn’t cause trouble, it was okay for them to stay around.

  “Sometimes, Ellie,” he had explained, “it takes a lot of effort and time to wash the world out of your system. Some people try and are never able to do it.”

  “I don’t think they’ll like it any better out there,” Eleanor said as she finished putting the last of the dishes in the sink. She would let her mother worry over was
hing them. As Eleanor glanced around the kitchen, she could see there were already plenty of other dishes that needed attention. She hoped her mother wouldn’t ask Eleanor to go for the water this time. Allan was getting big enough to help with that chore. In fact, Eleanor would send her brother down to the creek to get the water before her mother could ask.

  “I’m going to have the boys get some water,” she told Sapphira. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Allan! Tommie!” she called as she exited the house. Both boys were lying face down on the ground, running toy cars over mounds of dirt. It was nearly dark.

  “Allan, I need some water. Take the bucket and go down to the creek.”

  “I don’t wanna.”

  “You never wanna do anything,” Eleanor protested. “Just do it or I’ll make you go to bed right now.”

  She knew the last thing her brothers wanted was the dreaded threat of bedtime. Reluctant and grumbling all the way, the boys moved off to do the chore.

  “I can’t stand boys,” Sapphira announced from the doorway.

  “I can’t either,” Eleanor agreed. “They’re lazy and they always complain.” She sat down on the step outside the back door, and Sapphira did likewise.

  “Do you ever wonder what it’s like out there?” Eleanor finally asked, then added, “In the world.”

  Sapphira seemed pleased with the topic of conversation. “Oh sure. Don’t you?”

  “Well, I hadn’t so much until last night. I wondered what it would be like to be taken away to another place. To live somewhere else. My dad says the cities are full of unhappy people who do bad things because they think that will make them happy.”

  “I think I’d like to move away. I think my parents are crazy,” Sapphira stated boldly.

  Eleanor looked at her friend aghast. “How can you say that?”

  “Well, because it’s true. Do you know that the houses in the city have bathrooms and water that runs through pipes? They have electricity and air-conditioners in the summer.”

  “I’ve heard about the bathrooms and kitchens, but so what? They aren’t free. They have to pay for all that stuff.”

  “Maybe, but there’s television too. I saw a television once. It was the grooviest thing. I want a TV so bad.”

  “My dad says TV is a bad influence. It ruins our happiness. They show things there that make people unhappy with what they have.”

  “What do you mean?” Sapphira asked, her tanned face wrinkling slightly as she pondered the matter.

  “Well, they show people with all sorts of things. Sometimes it’s things you didn’t even know you didn’t have or need. Dad says it makes people who are otherwise happy suddenly believe they aren’t happy, and all because they don’t have something they saw on the TV.”

  “Well, I saw this cool show called The Beverly Hillbillies. It was so funny. It had some people sort of like us. They didn’t dress like fancy people, and they did a lot of stuff by hand like we do.”

  “That doesn’t sound that cool,” Eleanor countered.

  “Well, they weren’t exactly like us. They were funny. They were always doing things that other people didn’t understand. Oh, and they were living in this fancy house, because they found oil on their property and all of a sudden were rich. The house was so beautiful.” There was a hint of desire in Sapphira’s voice. “They had a swimming pool in the backyard. I wish we had a swimming pool.”

  “We’ve got the creek,” Eleanor said in disgust. “We’ve got a good life here. We don’t have to answer to anybody else. I don’t know why Marty and her mom would want to leave.”

  “Well, I heard that Katie’s mom was thinking of running off too. Katie told me in secret right before I came here.”

  “But why would they want to go?” Eleanor wondered aloud. “I can’t imagine ever leaving here. I love it.”

  “Well, Katie said her mom wanted to get out before it got ugly.”

  “What does she mean by that?” Eleanor could see her brothers trudging back toward the house with the bucket sloshing water between them.

  “I don’t know, but apparently Katie’s mom thinks there’s going to be more trouble like last night.”

  Eleanor shuddered at the thought. “I hope she’s wrong.”

  Later that night, Eleanor waited for her parents to come home. As usual, her mother was high on something. She stumbled into the house, laughing her head off and mumbling something about being hungry. She patted Eleanor on the head, then went to the kitchen and began rustling through the cupboards.

  “Dad?”

  Her father looked at her oddly for a moment. His gaze appeared distant even as he spoke. “Ellie girl, what are you doing up so late?”

  “Sapphira said that Marty and her mom were going to leave here. She said Katie and her mom were going to leave too. Why are they leaving, Dad?”

  “Why shouldn’t they?” he asked, his words a bit slurred.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “It’s a free world, Ellie girl. People can come and go as they like. That’s the beauty of it. That’s what makes our way so much better.” He swayed a bit, then stabilized himself by grabbing hold of the table. “They shouldn’t stay if they aren’t happy. Life is all about harmony. They need to find the harmony.”

  Eleanor thought about what he’d said well into the night. She tossed and turned on her mattress, wishing she could make sense of everything. Sometimes she felt like she didn’t belong. She loved her folks and her brothers, but sometimes things just didn’t seem to fit.

  Nine

  The next day Eleanor tried to push aside her discomfort and fears for the future. Sapphira was too busy to come over, but that was okay too. Eleanor had more than enough work to keep her busy. Her mother had told her to wash the dishes after Eleanor’s father had demanded the place be cleaned up.

  By evening Eleanor had pretty much forgotten her worries. The boys had been particularly rowdy and had been sent to bed early. It was a relief to have the house quiet and more or less to herself. Her mother was doing something in the back room, but it didn’t involve Eleanor, so she sought her own amusements.

  “Now, how does this work?” She positioned some yarn around a crochet hook. Sapphira’s mother had been trying to teach her to crochet, but it wasn’t going well. Saphhira’s mom had promised she’d be good at it in no time, so Eleanor kept practicing.

  Winding yarn around her finger, Eleanor focused hard on the stitches. She thought at one point she heard someone yelling, but she ignored it. There were often fights and screaming matches between couples throughout the commune. It never amounted to much, and as her father always said, it was best not to crowd someone else’s space.

  But just as she thought things were calming down, there were additional voices. Loud, obnoxious voices. Name-calling and loud comments edged with hysteria caused Eleanor to forget her craft. She ran to the window and pressed her nose to the smudged and dirty glass.

  They were back.

  She could see the police cars from here; this time there were four of them. “Dad!” she called, then realized her father was still at his makeshift office.

  “Mom, you’d better get in here!” Eleanor yelled.

  Her mother came in from the back room and wiped her wet hands on her long patchwork skirt. She wore a halter top that was more revealing than concealing and a headband to hold her hair in place.

  “What’s the buzz?”

  “Cops are back,” Eleanor said, then watched her mother’s face in order to gauge how critical this turn of events might be.

  Her mother cursed softly. “I’d better hide my stash in case they want to search the place.” She turned to go, but Eleanor couldn’t help reaching out for her.

  “Mom, will they try to . . . will they . . . take us? Will they take more people?” Her mother frowned and pulled away.

  “I don’t know, Eleanor. Now keep it down. Your brothers are sleeping, and you don’t want to get them all stirred up. Stay here and keep the lig
hts off.” She leaned over and blew out the lamp Eleanor had been using. “I mean it. Keep it off.”

  Her mother’s orders did nothing to put Eleanor’s mind at ease. In fact, they had the opposite effect. Her mother sounded frightened.

  Eleanor eased back against the glass and stared into the darkness. She couldn’t be sure, but it looked like Ringo, Dwight, and Moody were all arguing with the cops. The three men were good friends of her parents, and Moody was even Sapphira’s uncle.

  Eleanor knew she shouldn’t leave the house, but she couldn’t resist. She pulled on her shoes and crept out the front door. The commune was nothing more than a few shacks, tents, and trailers all congregated on a piece of land owned by one of the members’ parents. Eleanor knew this because her father had once revealed their circumstances when Eleanor had asked about land ownership. Her father was completely against owning property, as he felt that no one could really “own” a piece of land. He told Eleanor he felt that way because years ago, their ancestors had been Native Americans who roamed the land at will.

  Eleanor wrinkled her nose at the smell of rotting garbage and trash. There was no trash pickup here in the middle of nowhere. Most of the time it accumulated until Eleanor’s father talked some of the men into burning it for the sake of community health. Eleanor had seen big rats running through the mess, and now as she crept along beside the piles, she feared each step, knowing that if she stepped on a mouse or other animal she’d scream for sure.

  Using the debris as a shield from prying eyes, Eleanor eased in close enough to hear the conversation.

  “You hippies think you can just do whatever you want. Dodge the draft, use your drugs,” one man was saying.

  “Not to mention avoiding income tax,” another authoritative voice declared. “Half the vehicles here aren’t even properly tagged,” the same man added.

  “We don’t have no hassles with you, man,” Moody piped up. “You got no right to be out here giving us a hard time.”

  Eleanor moved in closer to better view the situation. A crowd was beginning to gather, and the tension of the confrontation was building. The sheriff and his men had big flashlights they were using as well as the headlights of their cars. It gave everything a distorted appearance. People’s faces looked harsher—more brutal. Even Moody looked like a shadowy monster. Eleanor pulled back.