by S. E. Amadis
I whirled my executive chair backwards and laced my fingers together, staring out the generous windows at leaden clouds over a brooding city. Tree tops thumped sullenly against office walls and lampposts in the rising wind. Distressed pedestrians grabbed at their hats while bike riders wobbled.
And off on the horizon, barely visible from my vantage point over numerous skyscrapers, the waves churned and toiled an impenetrable grey in the distant lake.
All alone in my suite, I felt like some sort of omnipotent queen presiding over this realm that was all my own. My very own one-person kingdom.
Except that I wasn’t omnipotent. I wished I were. I wished I could just wave a magic wand and Lindsay would come hurtling back to me. Contrite and falling over herself with apologies, perhaps, but safe, sound, and back home by my side again.
I checked the clock on my mobile. It was only eleven. I could hardly believe I’d puttered through three clients and finished my work on them with such expediency. I tapped in a few embellishing touches to my reports and prepared them for a final read-through tomorrow, in case I had some last-minute brainstorms overnight in the company of my pillow. I backed my files up to the cloud, then decided to call it a day already.
I wandered down to the sidewalk and chucked a typical, stressed executive’s lunch from a street vendor: tuna fish sandwich washed down with a plastic cup of undrinkable coffee. Then I lurched over to the bus station. I wondered what Calvin would say if he knew what I was up to. I decided it would be best if he never found out.
I bought a ticket for the village of Minerva. I had no idea what I would do once I got there, no Plan B in mind. I wasn’t carrying anything with me other than my handbag. I had no tools for any sort of strategy. For that matter, I didn’t have the faintest idea what the hell I was doing, or what I was going to do. I just needed to be near Lindsay again.
Rain began pelting against the grimy windowpanes as the bus rushed through the anonymous forests, and the sky darkened to a sepulchral gloom even though it was midday. I traced my fingers over the dusty smears I could see through the glass. I felt like crying.
The bus ejected me at the solitary bus stop of Minerva and continued off through the pounding deluge, taking with it the only light and leaving me all alone and bereft beside a dripping wood bench. I plopped myself onto it, heedless of the puddly patches in the wood, and buried my face in my hands. I had no idea what to do now. I didn’t even know how to get to the community.
Perhaps this was a crazy, unfeasible idea after all. To come all the way out here without a car, without an invitation from Lindsay, knowing those people were onto me. I almost hightailed it across the highway to grab the next bus back to the city.
But I was here now. I wouldn’t bow out.
I took a deep breath and began to work my way through the forest.
Chapter 23
At first, there was only one trail and it led in only one direction. But after perhaps a quarter of a kilometre, the path branched off into two. Should I take the right-hand fork? The left? Was this some sort of survival game or spiritual quest where choosing the wrong answer would sentence me to a sure purgatory that was neither heaven nor hell?
Well, I felt like I was in hell without Lindsay.
I pulled my mobile out of my bag. I remembered Romeo had searched out a map of the area on my phone the other day, and with a few clicks I managed to retrieve it. There it was. The first turning was to the left.
Darkness closed about me, it was almost like midnight. The ground was muddy and squishy and my flat soles buried themselves easily in the mire, splattering mud over my knee-highs and the hems of my trousers. I wished I’d thought to wear my two-inch heels this morning. But I usually wore flats when touring clients’ installations, since I had to walk around a lot.
I continued down the meandering path, barely wide enough for the van to pass, as rain continued to hiss down all around, drumming against the treetops and belting out a percussion symphony that cut through the deep silence of the forest. I marvelled that Lindsay had been able to memorize the winding route. I wondered idly where the other trails led, but then I remembered what I was here for, and that I had to concentrate on the task at hand.
Buried deep in the heart of the woods, far from any sign of civilization, I felt as if somehow I’d stumbled onto some virgin, unexplored continent on a newborn Earth. I almost expected a dinosaur to lumber into view. At that moment I could have been the sole survivor of some mega cataclysmic apocalypse.
I imagined myself exploring this path with Lindsay. If we’d been on a hike together, we could have laughed about it all the way and scared each other to death with imaginary visions of ghosts or snakes or unidentifiable creepy crawlies or who knew what? Maybe even a Yeti...
I shook my head, pulling myself out of vain escapist fantasies. I wasn’t here on a hike with Lindsay. I missed our long walks in the country together.
Hell, I missed everything I used to do with Lindsay.
I pushed a way between tendrils of streaming, impossibly crystalline-green leaves. How much longer was the trail supposed to be? I snagged out my mobile. In spite of the distance it felt like I’d already covered, I was still near the beginning of the trail. How long did it usually take us by car? If I recalled correctly, it was about a twenty-minute drive winding slowly.
How long did it take to walk a twenty-minute car route? I estimated at least two hours. I resigned myself to a tedious afternoon of shivering misery, already feeling ice water running down my skin underneath my clothes, sticking my suit tight against me.
How long had it been since I’d walked for such a long time, with not much to do except to watch the rain pour through this hostile, enveloping canopy and to try not to trip and fall over buried branches? Too much time to myself, to churn things over and over again in my mind, uselessly.
I tried to think about successful cases I’d read about, where someone had been snatched out of a cult and reincorporated back into normal society. What had they done? How had they done it?
Once again I pulled my mobile out and punched in a search for “deprogramming, cults”. A series of websites came up. I learnt that it was also possible to lure someone out of a cult of their own free will. These people were usually provided with a drastic form of therapy called “exit counselling”. However, that only worked when the member was willing to come out, even if only for a short walk in the city with family members.
If the member wasn’t willing to leave, more extreme measures needed to be taken, which usually involved kidnapping. Deprogrammers sure didn’t make their services available for cheap.
On a hunch, I dialled the number of a local deprogrammer whose name just happened to be listed on a website. My heart pounded as I listened to the ringing on the other end, in the room of some stranger whom I had no idea whether he would be friendly or not. Or whether he would be able to provide me with any solution at all.
I heard a deliberate click, then a cool, modulated voice intoned, emotionless and calm as a cucumber: “You’ve reached the private number of New Lease Associates. How may I help you?”
I licked my lips, even though my lips were already wet with rain, and my hand began to tremble.
“I’m-I’m... I’ve got a friend who’s in a sect, and I want to get her out. Can you help me?”
“That depends. On who you are. Who your friend is. And what religious organization you’re talking about. I don’t claim that we provide any such service.” There was a pause. “Are you in the region?”
“Y-yes, it’s a sect outside the city. They’re, um, they’re called Heart of Christ.”
There was a pause.
“Ah, yes. We have heard of them.” The voice was neutral, non-judgemental. “They’re a large, world-wide organization. And there is no proof at all that anything that they do is illegal... Has your friend been with them long?”
I licked my lips again.
“No. Only, maybe... Maybe a month, perhaps? I’m not too s
ure exactly...”
“Is she alone in there? Or did she enter with a partner, children?”
“No, um. She’s alone.”
There was a sigh.
“That makes things easier. I can give you advice for free but, obviously, in this world, all people do charge — and have a right to charge — for their services, including us. And I haven’t as yet explained what our services are.”
The voice was cautious, reserved. I could understand that perfectly. These people had no idea who I was. I could be a police agent investigating possible illegal activities, such as kidnapping. I could be a cult member, out to get them.
“I’m aware of that,” I replied.
I continued striding forward along the path as I talked. There appeared to be no end in sight, no change in the foliage.
“Are you able to convince your friend to come out? Even if it’s only for half an hour, to take a walk around the city with you?”
“Well...” I stumbled over a hidden root. “So far I’ve tried, but she won’t listen to me. She wants me to join them.”
“I see.” The voice continued, carefully modulated. “Sounds like she has been quite thoroughly programmed then, in spite of the short time she’s been with them.”
“Yes. Well, I guess. Look, in fact, right now I’m on my way there to try and talk to her again.”
Another pause.
“If she’s resisted previous attempts, the chances that she will listen to you now are extremely low. Are you sure you want to go through with it? You might alert her. She could become wary, if you try to convince her again.”
I hardened my jaw.
“I have to try again. I can’t just leave her.”
There was a soft chuckle.
“You sound like a determined young lady. That’s good. The stronger your resolve and desire to get her out, the greater your chances of success.”
I nodded, then realized my interlocutor couldn’t see me.
“Yes, sir,” I said.
“Well, if you should happen to be successful this time, I extend all my congratulations to you. But if you should need more help, something a bit more... coercive... then I am here. You may get in touch with me again, at the same number.”
A sudden, abrupt click indicated that the expert had signed off. I grasped the phone, frantic.
“Wait,” I cried, shaking the phone uselessly. “Wait. I wanted to ask you if you had some advice for me right now...” But the line was dead already, of course.
I was too subdued to call back. There was nothing to it, then, but to keep going down the sombre, rain-swept trail.
Chapter 24
At last I could make out the clearing ahead of me. As expected, the fields were barren and deserted. I imagined everyone must be inside the main lodge, since as far as I was aware, they possessed no other buildings.
I circled around the perimeter, tiptoeing as near as I could to Lindsay’s trailer. I knew the chances of her being inside her trailer, instead of in the lodge, were remote. But if there was even the faintest possibility... If she just happened to be there, I reasoned it would be much easier to talk to her right now, while no one else was about.
I crossed the field, my icy feet squelching in the mud and sinking in up to my ankles. To my surprise, the door of Lindsay’s trailer was ajar. My heart began to thud with wild, senseless hope. It really was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe... I approached the door, nudged gingerly at it with two fingers.
Someone stirred inside the trailer.
A voice cried out without words, incoherent. It sounded like Lindsay’s voice, but I couldn’t be sure. Muffled and in such low tones, she really didn’t sound that different from Tikvah.
“Tikvah, is that you?” she called. It was Lindsay.
And she was alone in the trailer, to boot!
I pulled the door open. I heard someone get up and move towards the door. The trailing of a gingham skirt against the doorframe. The tip of a leather boot.
Then Lindsay’s face dropped down, framed in the doorway.
“Lindsay,” I said.
She stared at me in astonishment. Her mouth dropped open.
“Don’t scream, Linds. Please. I-I just wanted to talk to you.”
Lindsay stepped out of the trailer and joined me in the field, heedless of the rain.
“Annasuya! What the hell are you doing here? How did you get here? Didn’t they warn you never to come back again?”
I clasped her by the shoulders.
“Lindsay. I miss you! I miss you. I need you.”
Lindsay gulped but didn’t make any attempt to pull away from me. I watched the rain slash across her face, plastering her hair against the top of her head. She seemed to come to life all of a sudden and tugged me towards the trailer.
“Come in, Annasuya. You look half drowned. How long have you been out there?”
I let her lead me inside. She perched on the edge of her bunk. I noticed she had been making sketches. She followed my gaze.
“Yeah, I’ve discovered a whole new interest, and talent, in art I was never aware I even possessed. I was too busy trying to make a living.”
She laughed cynically.
“It’s what the outside world does to you. You run about out there like a chicken without a head, just so you can pay your bills.”
She flung her arm out wide.
“Here I have loads and loads of free time to just do whatever I feel like. I don’t have to worry about my boss, or what would happen if I couldn’t sell a house. I’m not panicking when I don’t have enough dough to pay the rent. And best of all, I have the freedom to be all that I can be. Better than the army.” She chuckled.
I knew she was referring to the famous former recruitment slogan for the US army.
“But don’t you miss me?” My voice came out wistful and piteous.
I leaned against the door. I didn’t want to go near her and dump a load of water on her delicate sketches.
She noticed what I was doing and gathered her materials together, tucking them safely away on a shelf. Then she patted at a space on her bed next to her.
“Sorry we don’t have any chairs in these trailers,” she said, grimacing comically. “Not like they would’ve fit.” She laughed.
I glanced at the water pouring off me.
“That doesn’t matter,” she said. “It’s not like you’re going to lie in my bed.” She grinned again, full of mirth.
I could almost imagine that she was the old Lindsay again, and we were just enjoying a Saturday afternoon chat in her apartment in the city as we listened to the rain drumming moodily against the rooftop. The only thing that was missing was the Earl Grey.
“Don’t you miss me?” I repeated. “Don’t you ever wish you could see me, and we could go out together again?”
She seized me by the hands, enthusiastically.
“That’s why I’m telling you to come here and live with us. If you came, we could go out for walks together whenever we liked.”
“Don’t you have to work a lot?”
She made a face.
“Well, we could work together. Working builds comradery. And we do have work. But you can see...” She swept her arm around her trailer. “They also give us plenty of time to do as we please.”
She pulled on my hands.
“Oh, Annie. Please think about it. Do come. You’ll like it. You’ll like it a lot.”
I thought about what the deprogrammer had said.
“Tell you what, Linds,” I said all of a sudden, on a hunch. “Why don’t you come to the town with me. Just for a half an hour, one day. Let’s just meet in the town, right here, and have a stroll together, like we used to, and chat. And you can tell me all about it. I’m open,” I added. “If you can convince me, I can certainly see myself coming here to live with you. But I want to talk about it first.”
Her face closed up.
“Talk? What’s there to talk about? There’s nothing mysterious here.” She ra
ised her hand in the air. “Everything’s above board here. It’s not like there’s some ulterior motive around here in trying to get people to come here. We simply want to offer salvation to the entire world. We believe the entire world deserves a chance.”
I covered my face with my hands.
“But I miss our old walks together, Linds,” I wailed. “I miss just strolling about, just the two of us, together and alone. I’m not asking you to come back to the city with me. I just want to have a walk with you here. In the town. Like the old times.”
Lindsay pulled at my hands.
“What old times? The new times will be tons better. Come here and let’s make new memories here together.”
We heard footsteps outside, plopping in the puddles. Lindsay waved frantically at me.
“Hush,” she whispered. In a louder voice, she called out: “Who’s here? Who is it? What’s up?”
She stood up and walked to the doorway, hiding me out of sight around the curve of the wall. But as I peeked out through the slanted window, I could see it was Tikvah. I heard her footsteps splash up right next to the door.
“It’s time to make supper,” she said. “Were you talking to someone? I thought I heard your voice.”
Lindsay shook her head.
“I was just talking to myself, trying to get a sketch right.” She paused, hanging on to the door. “Why don’t you wait a minute and I’ll pull my things together and come right out.”
“Sure.” Tikvah’s footsteps continued to advance towards the doorway. “It’s getting cold. I’ll just grab a sweater.”
“N-no.” Lindsay’s voice trembled, hesitated.
Immediately Tikvah thrust her arm through the doorway, pushing against the door.
“What’s up, Tikvah?” she said. “Something’s up. You’ve been acting weird ever since that girl — what was she, your bestie?” Her voice lilted with disdain. “Well, ever since she showed up the other day, you’ve been acting strange. You wouldn’t be thinking of leaving us, would you?”