“I know what I did was wrong… I never cared for her to begin with, which is why I suggested her in the first place. And then, when I realized that I needed her, that I wanted her, it was too late. It was just too late.”
“How did you leave?” I asked him. I assumed the TGHL didn’t take lightly to deserters. Henry kept pacing the room nervously.
“I came here. The day they took them, I didn’t show. I came here instead, and I’ve been hiding ever since. I don’t know what would happen if I went home, if they’d be there waiting. Or if they’d come for me the minute I turned my back in Miller Creek.” Under the dim light of the candle, I could see how bloodshot his eyes were. He looked like a madman. He put his hand under the sleeping bag and pulled out a black and white Polaroid photograph. It was a rather unremarkable picture of a gate, and a grassy field.
“I found this taped under my chair at a meeting. I dropped my notebook and bent down to pick it up, when I saw it hanging there.”
“It’s a trap…” Henry added bluntly, rolling his eyes. “Are you crazy? It was so obviously planted there.”
“Take it as a sign from God or whatever. Maybe I’m done with all that nonsense. But I think it’s too much of a coincidence to be a fake…”
On the white strip at the bottom of the photo, an address was scrawled in messy handwriting, and beneath that, in inverted commas, ‘The Land’.
Cameron continued. “Trap or not, do you really want to pass it off? Somebody clearly wanted us to go there. Maybe it was Aggie that left the photograph…”
“Just like she left the diary,” I added.
“So far, nobody has come here. But I don’t take my chances, I’m quiet as a mouse… Nobody seems to know I’m here, except for Britney.”
“And her friend,” I added again.
This revelation seemed to distress Cameron. “Well, if that’s the case, we need to leave, now.”
“Do you know where the temple is?” I asked.
“Yes. But I can’t say here. Let’s go, it’s a long drive.” Cameron jumped to his feet, and hurried to unlock the door.
After agreeing to direct us to the location of the temple, and gathering Cameron’s things, we began to make the long and arduous journey back down the hill.
We were halfway down when Henry pulled me close to him, and whispered hoarsely, “Don’t look behind.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see somebody following us slowly down the winding hill, making little effort to stay out of sight, about five hundred metres behind. Fear began to rise in my chest, and instinctively, I grabbed Henry and Cameron’s hands and began to run. At the same time, I also saw the man begin to run. Running after us.
We made it to the car just in time, screaming out of the driveway, leaving a plume of dust behind us. The man stood in the driveway watching the car, and I stared him down until his figure became only a tiny dot on the side of the road.
Cameron insisted that we continue straight on in our journey to The Land, but I vehemently disagreed, saying we needed to plan the trip as we would any other cross country venture. I also said he had to shower if I was going to sit in a car with him for however many hours necessary. I was still quite rattled by the man we’d seen running down the hill, and we agreed my flat was the safest, mostly because of my newly installed deadlocks. I opened the door, and almost had a heart attack when I saw a small figure sitting silently on the lounge.
“Clem?” I cried out in surprise.
I blinked a few times before I realized that it really was my sister sitting on the lounge. Then I remembered Cameron and Henry were behind me and I was blocking the door. We couldn’t afford to waste any time with pleasantries, and I snapped back into action.
I didn’t want to tell Clem what was going on. But the thought of leaving her there alone sent those now familiar shivers down my spine. She wouldn’t tell me exactly why she travelled all the way back from Western Australia to find herself sitting on my lounge, but her ears pricked up when I mentioned the TGHL, in an almost disturbing way. I kept prompting her to tell me what happened in Western Australia, but she refused to say a word about it, and eventually I stopped asking.
That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched, that my own home was no longer safe. I was grateful in the morning when we got in the car and zoomed out of the driveway, and out of Miller Creek. Driving towards more danger and more uncertainty. We passed Johnny’s, and the high school… the library and the water park… all familiar places I hoped we’d see again. I couldn’t help the dreadful feeling that we were leaving for good, and that this was our final goodbye. What did I even have left in Miller Creek anyway?
Now, after driving for what seemed like days, we were sitting on the side of the road, in a broken down car, kilometres from anywhere. Cameron was convinced that the car had overheated and just needed time to cool down before we tried to restart it. So, with the windows cranked and nowhere to go, we all slept for a few hours. I dreamed that we were back on Miller Hill, and I’d fallen to the ground, the man standing over me, fists held high. Where his face should have been was a smudge of black, and I woke with a start, heart pounding and sweat pouring down my temples.
After everyone awoke, Henry restarted the car and it roared to life. He grumbled a barely audible ‘thank you’ at Cameron for his advice, and we continued on our journey. Henry hated that Cameron had been right. Henry hated that Cameron was our reason for being in this situation in the first place.
We passed a sign that announced the name of the town on the photograph, and Cameron searched his map for the street with the now familiar gates and grassy fields. Eventually, Cameron pointed to something on the side of the road, and pulled the picture out of his pocket, comparing it to the scene in front of us. The fences soared high as prison walls, and I felt a sudden wave of fear rush through my body. We were here. Inside this place, Aggie was somewhere. The compound looked so vast, I could barely make out the tiny cabins that dotted the skyline upon the hill. There seemed to be no other town, house or person in sight. We were well and truly off the grid. I wrung my hands together nervously.
“This is it guys,” Cameron stated, his voice wavering. “Let’s go find Aggie.”
16
Cameron was the first one to move. He crossed the road, and walked slowly over to the tower. He conversed briefly with the guard, and with nods from both parties, made his way back to the car. Had it really been that easy?
“Okay we’re good.”
“What did you tell them?” Henry asked. He was still pissed off about the car overheating in the middle of nowhere.
“I told them we were supposed to arrive with the last shipment, but missed the train.” Chills ran down my spine at the word shipment. “Then quoted some TGHL philosophy bullshit… Only stuff members would know.”
“Okay, so get in. Let’s go.”
“We have to leave everything here.”
“What?”
“No cars allowed. Leave it, leave everything.” Cameron gestured for us to get out of the car. “We’re walking.”
The long walk up the hill made me even thirstier, and my head throb even more. Clem still hadn’t said a word. I kept thinking about the last time we walked up a slope like this, to the house on Miller Hill. As my mind turned, I began to feel more and more like I’d imagined the whole thing again, like just another one of my bad dreams.
We finally reached the top of the hill, to find a small wood-panelled cabin. It looked like a tiny office, and a woman sat inside staring blankly at an unfinished puzzle, pieces scattered across the desk, fanning herself with magazine. It was remarkably hot for a day in mid April, and I suddenly remembered how thirsty I was.
Henry started towards the cabin, before Cameron stopped him with a hand on his arm. He pulled us around the side of the cabin, out of the sight of the receptionist.
“We need to get our stories straight before we go in there… We can’t risk
being found out.”
“What are you talking about? We got through the gates,” Henry retorted. I was slowly becoming tired of his constant irritation.
“This is not an ordinary institution… people worship for months to get in here. The guards were easy to convince… but inside, if they think you’re a mole…” Cameron’s voice trailed off.
“Cameron is right…” Clem suddenly spoke up. I was relieved to hear her speak again. “This isn’t an ordinary place. We need to blend in.”
“What was that TGHL philosophy you were talking about before?” I whispered.
“’Everything you do or say, then should be done in the name of Lord Jesus, as you give thanks through Him to God the Father.’ It’s their maxim, remember it,” Cameron continued. “But why did you come here? What drew you to the TGHL?”
Clem and I looked sideways at each other. Henry chose to take the phrase literally.
“Well, we came here because of you.”
“You can’t say that inside. What hurt, what tragedy, led you to seek the help of Saxon, of the TGHL?” Cameron explained. “Take this seriously.”
“Okay, okay… this is not the time for an argument.” I stood between them. “Think up a story, and stick to it. Easy.” God only knew we had enough tragedy between us to exploit properly.
“And trust nobody but us,” Cameron added.
We all nodded in agreement, and made our way around to reception.
The bored receptionist looked up from her puzzle as we entered the stuffy cabin. She looked surprised, clearly not used to visitors in such a remote location.
“Um… hello? How can I help you?” Her voice trembled slightly. She wore a blue jumpsuit, with a name tag that read ‘Chloe’, in neat handwriting.
Cameron took the lead. “We missed the train, we’re from the last shipment.”
I shivered again at the use of that word.
“Oh?” Chloe clearly had no idea what to do with us.
“Everything you do or say, then should be done in the name of Lord Jesus, as you give thanks through Him to God the Father.”
“Everything you do or say, then should be done in the name of Lord Jesus, as you give thanks through Him to God the Father,” Chloe repeated back at Cameron.
“We just need our jumpsuits and directions to our lodgings.” Cameron pointed at what Chloe was wearing. I looked over at Clem in dismay, and knew she was thinking of how the metallic blue colour would suit her skin.
Again Chloe stared, not appearing to comprehend. Cameron began to speak again, when she leaned down and pulled out a box from underneath the desk.
“Eight for you… and you.” She tossed two jumpsuits at Clem and I. “You can leave your old clothes with me.”
We looked around for somewhere to change, before Chloe spoke up again. “Change here. We are all God’s children in the TGHL, all made the same. No need to hide from anyone.”
I tried not to let her see my grimace, as Clem and I began stripping off our clothes and arranging the jumpsuits on our bodies. They reminded me of mechanics coveralls, not at all flattering, with material that was scratchy against my skin. A small yellow snake had been embroidered on the pocket, weaving around to create the letters ‘TGHL’.
Once we changed into the jumpsuits, and created our own nametags, Chloe escorted us to the dormitories. She explained that all necessities would be provided, and I was immediately relieved to see a clean toothbrush and toothpaste on my pillow. The rooms held ten bunk beds, all neatly made, with a bathroom at one end of the room. Clem took the top bunk, and I settled with the bottom. There wasn’t another member in sight. Chloe explained that they were all at work duty, and we would be given our assignments soon enough.
“You will be in Prayer Group B, which starts in five minutes, I will show you where you need to be. We pray three times a day here. It used to be on the hour, but the work duties suffered because of it. So we worship while we work.”
Apart from the rigid prayer schedule, I suddenly felt less like a mole inside the cult, and more like a guest in a hotel. All of my fears seemed to evaporate, as we walked behind Chloe silently to prayer.
Suddenly, we were joined with a crowd of people entering the prayer hall. Chloe disappeared from sight, and I took Clem’s hand so she wouldn’t get lost in the crowd. I could see why they had felt the need to break the prayer sessions up into Prayer Group A, B and C. The number of people entering the room was phenomenal, and I wondered silently how they would all fit. Everyone found a place and sat on the carpeted floor. I estimated there had to be at least one hundred people in the room, and I could already feel the sweat running down my face from the amount of body heat.
A young Indian man appeared and the congregation immediately fell silent. He took his place at a battered microphone and began to speak. He was wearing a sleeveless white tunic, and a gleaming gold pendant in the shape of a dove.
“Psalm 51:17: The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise. Amen.”
“Amen,” the crowd chanted in unison. I expected this was going to be a regular occurrence.
“Today we are going to talk about forgiveness. Not only forgiving those around you, but also forgiveness of yourself.” The man took the microphone off the stand, and began walking in amongst the crowd. “Please remember that these prayer groups are not only about worship, but finding ourselves, finding retribution for our past sins, through the word of God, the study of the Bible and scripture. So that we may be able to lead more peaceful and righteous lives, in the eyes of God. He believes in forgiveness, and so should you.”
The man came closer to me, and I squinted trying to make out his nametag. Neil, written in neat, blocky handwriting. Neil stopped momentarily in front of me and stared into my eyes like he was recognizing someone he knew, before continuing his slow walk towards the back of the prayer hall.
“Today, I want to hear your stories. About your struggles with forgiveness. So that we as a group may comfort, and bring you closer to the peace that you so solemnly deserve.”
One lady put her hand in the air, and Neil approached her with the microphone. She told the story of how she left her two children behind for a man she’d known for a week, and how the guilt she felt was eating away at her. She came to the TGHL seeking guidance, after her children refused to see her.
Neil touched her face gently. “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, You will not despise.”
The crowd repeated the phrase, and this time, I joined in, mumbling the few words I remembered.
“God forgives you. And in time your children will forgive you too. For now, their pain is greater than the love they have for you. But the love will always be there, long after the pain fades away. Love is infinite. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things… Corinthians 13:7:”
The woman nodded, clearly in acceptance of Neil’s verdict, and sat back down in her place. Tears streamed down her face, and she dabbed at them with a well- used tissue.
“Is there anybody else who would like to share their story?” Neil turned to face the other occupants of the prayer hall.
Someone behind me put their hand up, and Neil approached again, microphone outstretched.
“Hello, my name is Clementine.” The small voice echoed softly through the speakers. I spun around quickly to find my sister standing up behind me, head hanging low, avoiding my confused gaze. She took a deep breath, and began to speak. “When I was fifteen, my mother disappeared.”
Neil nodded, prompting her to continue.
“For years, we were okay. We got on pretty well without her… my sister provided for us, and then eventually, I went off to WAAPA to study dance. I felt guilty for leaving Imogene all by herself, but I pushed it aside, knowing that one day she might follow me to Western Australia, and we’d be together again. But she didn’t… and I began to feel the loneliest I’ve ever been in m
y life. Dreams are so much better in your head, you know? They never tell you that following your dreams might make you lonely, or depressed, or even angry…
“But I thought I’d stick it out, graduate, and then work out the next step… I knew it wasn’t the dancing that was getting me down, it was being away from home, the fact I didn’t fit in with any of the girls there, that I was different. They always talked about their lives, you know… their two perfect parents and their 1.7 dogs, and their white picket fences. I just didn’t know where I stood with them. I couldn’t talk to them about anything, despite us all being dancers. I was on my own, well and truly.”
Clem took another deep breath.
“Then one day, as I was getting on the bus after class, I saw her for the first time. Sitting up in the back seat staring down at me. It gave me the creeps at first, but I found it surprising that she hadn’t changed in the years since I’d seen her. I was surprised she recognized me too.
“We both got off the bus at the same point. We kind of just stood for a moment, not really knowing what to say. I mean, what can you say after so many years of being apart?”
“And this person you saw?”
“It was my mother, Marella.”
I tilted my head in disbelief at Clem’s story. Then I realized, it was part of the plan to blend in, to look like a real part of the institution. Less like moles trying to break the system apart. So, I decided to play along too. I began to chime in, when Clem shot me a look, and I shut up instantly.
“And did you speak to her?” Neil asked.
“She said she was sorry. She didn’t mean to hurt us. But staying around, it could have hurt us more than her leaving. At that point, I didn’t want to hear any more, I knew it was all lies. Marella never cared about us, Marella only ever cared about herself.”
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