Sure enough, after about five minutes, the youngster jogged over to where Jack had taken a seat on a stone bench.
“Sit.” Jack patted the spot next to him. Instead, Theodore shook his head and dropped to the grass at his feet.
“Why do you want to talk to me?” the boy asked, meeting Jack’s gaze with open curiosity.
At least he was talking. Jack gave a casual shrug, deciding to wing it. The bench was far enough from any structure wall that he doubted he could be heard. “I just thought since I came from outside of this place, you might have some questions to ask me.”
At that, Theodore jumped up, moving closer before tentatively taking a seat next to Jack on the bench. “You came from outside?” he asked in a low voice, his eyes wide.
“Yep.” Jack smiled. “Did you?”
To his shock, the boy’s eyes filled with tears before he angrily wiped them away with his small fist. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I have lots of dreams of another place. They’re like nightmares, but not really scary. Just different.” He swallowed hard and looked away for a moment before raising his gaze back to Jack’s. “The other kids make fun of me.”
“That’s tough.” Jack nodded in sympathy. “Kids can be mean if they don’t understand.”
“Yeah. Ben and Samantha are the only ones who leave me alone. I think that’s because they have dreams, too.”
Jack struggled to contain his excitement. Finally, he might be getting somewhere. “Can you tell me about one of the dreams?” he asked.
For a second Theodore appeared uncertain, but then he slowly nodded. “You won’t make fun of me?”
“Of course not,” Jack scoffed. “Why would I do that? I’m from outside, remember?”
His disclaimer appeared to soothe the boy. Theodore took a deep breath. When he started to speak, words poured out of him so quickly that Jack had to struggle to make sense of them.
In true dream fashion, the kid relayed a mishmash of events, some realistic, some fantastical. But some of what he said brought up some possible red flags. Theodore remembered a room with a crib and a rocking chair, bright and colorful, describing what sounded like a typical nursery in great detail.
Jack interrupted then. “Is that like where babies are kept here?”
Theodore shook his head violently. “No. The nursery is a big room with a bunch of clear plastic bin things. All the babies are kept in one place—I’ve seen it. This other place, the one in my dream, makes me miss my mom. Sometimes I think I can hear her voice, but then I know I’m crazy. No one has just one mom. No one.”
“They do where I come from. Outside, that is,” Jack said, keeping his tone casual. “Are you sure you’ve never been there?” He knew he had to be extremely careful here. It wouldn’t be good to get the boy all riled up and have him go around spouting that he’d come from outside because that nice man Jack said so.
No, that wouldn’t be good at all.
Regretful, Jack asked Theodore a few more questions, and then talked about how sometimes dreams were our inner self’s way of showing us what we secretly longed for. He said maybe Theodore had been feeling lonely lately, so he’d begun to wish he could be different, more than just one of many kids. As he wound down, he wondered if the boy would pick up the one anomaly of his words—that there was no way Theodore would know what it was truly like outside unless he’d actually been there.
Checking his watch, Jack saw that the hour was nearly up. “You can run around for a few more minutes before we go back inside,” he said.
Immediately, Theodore jumped up and did exactly that.
Jack watched him, surprisingly drained. For the first time, he saw far-reaching implications that might arise from his investigation. What if the Bartlett boy wasn’t the only child who’d been abducted and brought to the cult?
How many might there have been? How long had it been going on? And was it possible some of them might even be adults now?
Walking back into the classroom with Theodore, he gave Rachel an impersonal smile before taking his usual seat at the back of the classroom. He decided to wait a little bit before taking Samantha outside to talk. He needed to process the information Theodore had given, to sift through it and decide what was valuable and what could be discarded.
Again he found himself wishing he could discuss this with Sophia. No doubt she’d have some insights to share that would help him.
But with Ezekiel and his people apparently watching her like a hawk, he simply couldn’t take the chance. He would have to stay away from her for both their own safety.
Right before lunch he took Samantha outside. Unlike Theodore, she was quiet and timid. She shook her head when he asked her if she wanted to run around and play, and she immediately sat when he patted the bench next to him, crossing her feet primly at the ankles.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk to me about?” he asked, keeping his voice soft and friendly.
She shook her head no, refusing to even look at him.
“I understand you’ve been having some bad dreams?”
Again she shook her head no.
The rest of the hour went exactly the same way, with Jack trying everything he could think of to draw the little girl out and failing every single time. Like Benjamin, she’d apparently withdrawn into herself.
He returned her to the classroom, struggling not to show his frustration. When they all went to lunch, Rachel asked if he minded if she joined him at his table.
“Why not?” With a shrug, he gestured at the empty chair across the table.
“I have recess duty an hour after lunch,” she told him, smiling. “I know you’ve been outside a lot today, but you’re certainly welcome to join me.”
That way they could talk without anyone listening.
“I’d like that.” He kept his answer casual. “I can never get enough fresh air.”
They ate their lunches in relative silence, making the occasional small talk about the beautiful spring weather or how good the meal tasted.
A bell rang and Rachel’s class lined up next to another group of kids. “Follow me,” Rachel said, leading them all back to the classroom.
He managed to keep from watching the clock as he waited for recess. Exactly one hour after they’d returned to the classroom, a bell rang again. Finally. Rachel waited until all the children had lined up again before leading them outside. Jack followed.
Standing away from the walls and any possible listening devices, Jack and Rachel watched the children play.
“Any luck?” Rachel asked, pitching her voice low.
He outlined what Theodore had told him and let her know Samantha had refused to speak. “Just like Benjamin,” he said. “It’s very discouraging.”
“Well, I’m sure you must have run up against roadblocks before,” she told him, smiling. “Keep after it. I’m sure you’ll eventually make progress.”
Of course, he couldn’t let on that he didn’t have that much time. His certainty continued to grow that one or more of the kids might actually be from outside. If not the Bartletts’ child, someone else’s. And while he still didn’t understand why Ezekiel and his people felt the need to kidnap outsiders’ children, he suspected it had something to do with introducing new blood into the gene pool.
“When are you going to speak with Benjamin?” Rachel asked.
“This afternoon.” He kept to himself his belief that meeting would be as unproductive as the previous one. If he’d been an actual therapist, maybe he would have received training techniques to help draw the boy out. Since he hadn’t, he could only continue and hope for the best.
The children seemed quieter than normal after recess. Rachel assigned them reading and Jack watched as Benjamin heaved a sigh before getting his book out from inside his desk.
When Jack walke
d up to him to ask the boy if he would come with him, he could have sworn a look of relief flashed across Benjamin’s face. But his words didn’t sync up.
“I guess,” the kid said, his tone surly and his posture defensive.
Once again Jack led the way outside. Since they’d just had recess, he figured Benjamin wouldn’t want to run around, so he pointed to the bench. “Sit with me?”
Benjamin sat. Jack didn’t speak, simply waited, hoping the boy might feel the need to fill the silence with words.
“Why’d you leave me for last?” Benjamin eventually asked. “Is it because I’m the least interesting?”
Elation filled him. Finally the boy was talking. Though his first instinct was to reassure the child, instead Jack pretended to consider the question. “Well, you won’t hardly talk to me,” he eventually answered.
“Did Theodore and Samantha talk?”
Jack smiled. “You know I can’t discuss them with you. Just like I wouldn’t talk about you with them.”
“Oh.” Benjamin again fell silent.
Once more Jack waited him out. Even though he hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, he felt pretty good. Already the boy had said more than ever before.
“Did Theodore tell you about his dreams?” Benjamin swallowed hard as he spoke again.
Since Jack had already said he wouldn’t discuss anything the other two might have said, he turned the question around. “Do you have dreams about another place?”
Benjamin looked down. He twisted his hands over and over while he considered Jack’s question. “I don’t know.” He shot to his feet. “And if I did, why would I want to tell you about them?”
That said, the boy moved away. He didn’t run, just walked a few feet from Jack and stood with his back to him, hands shoved into his pockets. His posture resembled that of a weary old man more than a young child.
Pushing slowly to his feet, Jack crossed the space between them. He half expected the boy to run off when he reached him, but Benjamin didn’t move.
“If you ever want to learn about what life is like outside, I can tell you,” Jack said quietly. “And if you have some memories or dreams that make you think you might have been there, I’d be happy to sort through those with you.”
“Why would I think that?” Frowning, Benjamin stalked toward the school entrance. “I want to go back to class. I have some reading to do.”
Jack nodded. Without another word, the two of them returned inside.
* * *
Deirdre swept into the medical clinic shortly after Sophia unlocked the doors at the start of the day. Both Sophia and Ana looked up from the reception desk, where they’d been going over the patient list of appointments.
“You,” Deidre declared, pointing imperiously at Sophia, “are coming with me.” She swung her gaze to Ana. “Tell Dr. Drew that she won’t be in at all today.”
Then, before either Sophia or Ana could utter a single word, she spun on her heel and marched back out the door, clearly expecting Sophia to follow.
Which, since she had no choice, Sophia did.
Outside, Deirdre barely contained her impatience. “Hurry. We don’t want to be late. We have a lot to attend to today.”
Though Sophia knew Deirdre expected her to simply do as she was told without question, she decided to ask anyway. “What are we going to do?”
The older woman stopped short—so suddenly that Sophia nearly ran into her. Looking down her rather prominent nose, her annoyed expression softened. “Normally, I’d reprimand you for daring to ask questions, but with all the fuss going on, I forget it’s your wedding, too. Today we are going to get you fitted for a dress and discuss what colors we want. I’ll also need a few names of your best friends—the ones you want in your wedding. We’ll need to get them fitted for dresses, too.”
Though Sophia had spent nearly the last decade fantasizing and planning her wedding, her stomach turned. With all the craziness of thinking she’d actually be marrying Ezekiel, she hadn’t thought about ordinary things like choosing a dress and colors. Now, though she knew it would be a waste of time since she had no intention of going through with it, she couldn’t say anything to Deidre.
She licked her lips, aware she might be pushing it, but feeling she had to try to stall anyway. “Is there enough time to have a dress made? I would think the dressmaker would need more than two weeks.”
“Honey, you aren’t any ordinary bride,” Deidre answered, her mouth quirking with amusement. “We’ll have four or five dressmakers at once working on your gown. Once we have the fitting and choose the material, it should be done in less than forty-eight hours. Then we can have it adjusted so you have a perfect fit.”
All of which, from what she remembered hearing from her already married friends, usually took weeks or months.
Deidre resumed moving forward, this time at a more leisurely pace, the rich material of her long gown sweeping the path. “Are you excited?” she asked, her tone casual.
Aware she couldn’t tell the truth, Sophia nodded.
“Good, good.” Another sideways glance. “Did you give any thought to the advice I gave you last time we talked?”
As if Sophia would be foolish enough to tell her if she did. “I heard your wise words,” she said slowly, “and considered them, but in the end I must always act with the honor expected of someone in my position.”
Unexpectedly, Deidre laughed. “Whatever. Honey, if you only knew what kind of fresh hell awaits you, you’d reconsider. But because I know you expect it, I’ll say what I’m supposed to say. You did the right thing. You’re a good girl.”
Confused, Sophia didn’t know how to react. She’d supposed that Deirdre’s advice had only been a test.
Then again, if Ezekiel had people watching Sophia as she suspected, Deirdre might already be aware that Sophia had asked Jack to make love to her. Luckily for both of them, nothing had happened. Who knew? All this intrigue had her head spinning.
They were now in an area of the compound where Sophia had never been.
“This,” Deirdre said, sweeping her arm in a grand gesture, “is where the seamstresses live. And the bakers, so we’ll stop in and order your cake, as well.”
Though Sophia nodded, she wanted to close her eyes and wish all this away, as if it were a bad dream. In a way, it was.
Feeling as if she were somewhere outside her body, she sat through watching as the white-haired designer sketched some samples of what kind of wedding gown she felt Sophia would look best in. After that, Sophia had to hold herself motionless for what seemed like hours while the seamstress directed multiple assistants to take her measurements.
When they finally declared themselves finished, Sophia hoped she’d be allowed to sit for a moment to rest, but Deirdre marched her down the street to consult with the baker.
Having no preferences about what kind or size of cake, Sophia told Deirdre she trusted her judgment and found a chair. She watched while Deirdre and the head baker discussed what sounded like a huge and pretentious confectionary masterpiece.
Sophia simply leaned back and closed her eyes. Misery filled her, misery and a kind of desperation that made her wish she could simply jump up and declare this all needed to stop. Right this instant.
Again she thought of Jack and the way he made her feel. She tried to picture outside, her thoughts going back to that brochure Rachel had hidden away. While she knew it wasn’t all so beautiful, Miami would be one place she’d want to see.
“Wake up, dear.” Deirdre’s voice, sounding both amused and exasperated. “We’ve still got places to go and people to see. But first we’ll go have a nice lunch to refuel us for the afternoon.”
Dutifully, Sophia nodded. Clearly when Deirdre said they were spending the day together, she meant all day.
Deirdre led the two o
f them down an alley to a small courtyard. “My household chef teaches here,” she said. “His students need to practice their cooking techniques. They’ll be preparing lunch for us today.”
Inside the courtyard were several round tables made out of iron. Deidre took a seat at one and motioned for Sophia to do the same. “In the world outside, they call places like this restaurants,” Deirdre confided. “Except I hear one must pay to sample the food.”
“Pay what?” Sophia asked, genuinely curious. “Do they barter services or goods in exchange for the meal?”
Deirdre shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ve heard Ezekiel talk about something called cash. I don’t know what that is exactly, and I certainly couldn’t ask.”
Which meant even once she’d obtained as powerful a position as the Anointed One’s first wife, she still wasn’t permitted to ask questions.
Again Sophia found herself battling despair.
Several young men, all wearing white jackets, came out to greet them. Both Deidre and Sophia were given tall glasses of ice water. A bowl of some kind of breaded vegetable was placed in the center of the table. Sophia eyed it dubiously.
Noting her expression, Deidre laughed. “I promise you, it’s good.” To prove her point, she took a piece, dipping it into a small bowl of white sauce. “Delicious.”
“But what is it?” Sophia asked, hoping the older woman wouldn’t mind yet another question.
“Fried zucchini. With ranch dressing for dipping. Try it for yourself.”
Gingerly, Sophia picked up some and, following Deirdre’s example, dipped it in the white sauce and took a tiny bite. To her surprise, it was delicious. She finished it off quickly, wondering if it would be rude for her to reach for more.
“Help yourself.” Deirdre smiled, proceeding to do exactly that. “This is called an appetizer. You don’t get food like this in the regular dining hall.”
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