Ashes of the Sun

by A. Meredith Walters

  I gave both men a wide berth.

  I remembered Clement’s nails digging into my arms as he dragged me to The Refuge. The nasty grin he gave me as he locked the door behind me.

  Neither men could be counted on for any kindnesses. Not even towards the children.

  Particularly towards the children.

  The voices all went silent. One by one the kids emerged from the trees. Anne—whose face was now tense and wary—led the way. Bastian followed her, a confused expression on his face. When he saw the two older men, it changed to concern.

  “We’re having Bible study,” I said as calmly as I was able to. I was the leader here, I had to act like it.

  “We can hear you back at The Retreat. Bible study doesn’t require noise,” Clement barked. “Now I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing?” He looked around at all the children, his eyes boring into each and every one of them. Looking for weakness. Waiting for one of them to break.

  “We were trying a new type of Bible study. Sara would read the passages and the children would repeat them back to her. Sorry if they were too loud,” Bastian jumped in, coming to stand in front of the kids as if shielding them.

  I frowned at Bastian. I didn’t want him to lie for us. Dishonesty was a sin.

  Yet I didn’t want any of the kids to spend time in The Refuge. I’d take the punishment for all of them.

  Perhaps a lie in the name of a greater good was okay.

  Was my morality flexible? Did it bend and curve to suit me? I had never thought it was. Thinking right and wrong was as clear as black and white. But seeing Bastian standing protectively in front of the kids, I couldn’t be so sure.

  Because the truth would only serve Clement and Stanley’s purposes. That wasn’t acceptable to me.

  Stanley took a step towards us. It felt threatening. Intimidating. “Then why were you in the woods?” His words dripped with condescending disbelief. The children all stood straight, hands folded in front of them, heads bowed. As they had been taught to do. Making no noise. A silent row of docility.

  Bastian tucked his hands casually into his pockets and gave the men a laid-back smile. “Isn’t that the best way to commune with God? By walking through nature? But ask the animals, and they will teach you, or the birds in the sky and they will tell you. In his hand is the life of every creature.” He gave them a look that was both challenging and conciliatory. “At least I think that’s how the scripture goes. We were just reading it, but I have a bad memory.” He looked at me and all I could do was nod, shock having stolen my voice.

  Clement and Stanley looked less sure of themselves. “You’re meant to reserve your voice for God. Not shout for all the world to hear,” Stanley growled, clearly trying to find something to admonish us for.

  Again, Bastian stepped in. “The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” He came to stand beside me, facing the elders. “I understand the need for silence in some things, but our voices are instruments of God, are they not?”

  He was toeing a dangerous line. He was questioning Pastor’s edicts. He was using the Holy Word against an elder. I could tell by the harsh lines of their mouths that Stanley and Clement were furious. Their eyes flashed with anger. But they didn’t drag anyone off to The Refuge.

  Bastian had ensured that.

  “And it’s also written: Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” Stanley reminded all of us, his voice cold and more than a little scary. “It’s time you all return to The Retreat for Daily Devotional.”

  I seemed to finally wake up. I hurried to the children, herding them back through the trees towards home, not giving the elders time to change their mind.

  “That was too close,” Anne whispered, her face pale, her hands trembling.

  I nodded, glancing back at Bastian. He walked with Rosie who clung to his hand again, not giving Stanley or Clement another look.

  When we were hidden in the dense trees, I waited for him to catch up.

  “Thank you,” was all I said once we were walking together.

  Bastian looked down at Rosie who was now sucking on her thumb. Something she had been told time and time again not to do. Knowing the consequences, I gently pulled her hand away from her mouth.

  “You don’t need to thank me,” Bastian responded. “Today was fun, but I didn’t get the sense that Mr. Tough Guy one and two back there would agree.”

  “No. They wouldn’t. We were meant to be reading from the Bible. I was derelict in my duties.” I felt a deep sense of shame for letting myself be waylaid. For letting myself stray from the path.

  “What I said was true, you know. Being outside, enjoying life, is just as Godly as reading from a musty old book. Probably more so.”

  I could argue with him, but I didn’t want to. Because I had fun today. The kids did too. And I wouldn’t feel badly about that.

  “I had no idea you knew the Bible so well,” I said instead.

  Bastian chuckled. “Well, I’m no Biblical scholar. But since coming here I figured I’d learn a few passages that could be helpful. Seems I picked the right ones.”

  “Well, I was impressed,” I admitted.

  Bastian’s fingers brushed mine. “That’s an added bonus then.” His blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

  Maybe Bastian Scott wasn’t entirely untrustworthy. Perhaps he wasn’t a wolf amongst the sheep.

  Because I found myself liking him. Cautiously. Warily.

  And when he smiled, I smiled back.

  “Bastian! Over here!” Rosie called out from across the dining hall before being scolded by her mother for being too loud.

  I headed over to table occupied by Rosie Fisk and her family. “Good morning, Rosie. How are you today?” I asked her.

  “I told Mommy about the woolly worm you found and how you made sure he stayed with his family,” she said excitedly, her eyes gleaming.

  “I appreciate your kindness towards our daughter, Bastian,” Mrs. Fisk said stiffly, as though she were only speaking to me out of obligation. “It’s good of you to show her all God’s creatures.”

  Mr. Fisk, a tall, reedy looking man with wire rimmed glasses that sat precariously on the edge of his nose, held out his hand. “Blessings to you, Bastian.”

  I shook his hand, still not sure how to respond to the strange mannerisms of most of The Gathering members.

  “I liked spending time with the children. They’re all very well behaved.” I knew I had to be careful what I said. I quickly figured out that our brief game of hide and seek was a big no-no. From what I could tell, the kids at The Retreat weren’t given any time to just be children. Their entire day was spent praying or working.

  My chest ached for little Rosie, and too mature Dakota, and Darlene who would never really meet your eyes.

  Mrs. Fisk nodded brusquely. “That’s good of you to say. I can think of no better compliment to give my daughter.”

  Rosie gave me a small grin before looking back down at her bowl of porridge. I noted how Mrs. Fisk never touched her daughter. Never gave her any form of physical affection. I remembered how Rosie had held my hand in the forest, never letting go and I felt incredibly sorry for her.

  “Rosie seems quite fond of you. Perhaps you’d like to join us for a meal some time,” Mr. Fisk suggested.

  I was a bit confused. Everyone ate together. Didn’t I share a meal with them every day?

  “We’d be happy to make room for you at our table,” Mrs. Fisk offered, though her eyes were frosty. I wasn’t getting a lot of warm fuzzies from her. How did she end up with such a sweet kid?

  “Uh, sure,” I replied.

  “Bastian can sit next to me,” Rosie spoke up.

  “He that keepeth his mouth, keepeth his life, Rosie,” Mr. Fisk rebuked.

  Huh?

  Rosie didn’t seem to understand him either, but she didn’t say another word.

  It seemed I needed to read my Bible a bit mor
e. It felt as though I needed a string of verses to keep in my arsenal around these people.

  “Thank you for the offer. Perhaps another time. My brother is waiting for me.” I tried to catch Rosie’s eye to give her a smile, but she kept her chin tucked into her chest, her shoulders drooped. It was a far cry from the exuberant girl who had played in the woods. It made me hate her parents.

  I said goodbye and made my way back to the table where David was sitting with Pastor Carter and Daphne Bishop, Sara’s mother.

  “Remember what is written in the holy book—But as for the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable, as for murderers, the sexually immoral, sorcerers, idolaters, and all the liars, their portion will be in the lake that burns with fire and sulfur, which is the second death.” Pastor Carter pressed a finger to his lips as if in contemplation. David and Ms. Bishop hung on his every word. I wanted to roll my eyes. “Those days are upon us, family. And we will watch their demise from our mountain top and know we are saved.”

  “Amen,” Daphne murmured, nodding.

  “Amen,” David parroted, his voice brittle but eager.

  I sat down beside my brother, wishing more than anything we were home. That I was sitting in my parents’ bright kitchen eating Mom’s famous peach cobbler.

  But no matter how many times I pinched myself, it seemed I was still here.

  “I was reading Revelations last night and this passage really spoke to me; Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more,” Daphne said loudly. Too loudly given the silence of the room. But I got the impression that Sara’s mother spoke for others to listen. Whether she said the words directly to them or not. She liked to put on a show. “This is the new heaven. The new earth. This is the meadow for the chosen.” She clasped her hands to her chest, her eyes wide.

  She looked deranged. Even though she was obviously an attractive woman, her demeanor disturbed me. She fidgeted restlessly as though she couldn’t sit still, constantly picking at the skin around her nails until they bled. Her long blonde hair, the same pretty color as Sara’s, was full of knots. There was no way to brush it. I wondered what she’d look like with a shaved head.

  She rocked in her seat. Back and forth. Back and forth. Her lips moving even when she wasn’t speaking. No one seemed to think her behavior out of the ordinary. In fact, they listened to her. Almost as avidly as they listened to Pastor Carter.

  And the two of them together were uncomfortable to watch.

  Daphne touched Pastor Carter frequently. Rubbing her fingers along his arm. She sat as close as possible to him without actually being in his lap. She caressed his face, her unsettled gaze adoring, as though he were her God.

  And he loved it. I could tell.

  Watching them, it was obvious there was something between them. I’d bet money the dirty Pastor was boinking Sara’s mom. Which was even more skeevy, given the way I had seen him stare at Sara.

  I pushed my bowl of porridge away, having lost my appetite.

  “God led you to that passage, Daphne. He wanted to show you that what we are doing here is good in his eyes.” Pastor Carter bowed his head. Everyone in the room did the same. Like puppets on a string, they mimicked the man’s actions.

  I bowed my head too because I knew if I didn’t, someone would see. And it was important I play along. For now. Even if doing so was like tearing my fingernails off, one at a time.

  “Thank you, Lord, for showing our sister Daphne the truth of your word. For blessing us with your love. For gifting us this place as our home. We live only to serve you. We die to serve you. And when the time comes for our Awakening, we will go with love in our hearts. For you have shown us that our way is blessed.”

  “Amen,” everyone said.

  There was something vaguely ominous about the Pastor’s prayer. It gave me the heebie-jeebies.

  “I’ve prayed to God to show me the way, Pastor. I worry that I’m not doing enough to show Him my devotion,” David spoke up. I hated how needling he sounded. How he appeared so desperate for Pastor Carter’s regard.

  What happened to the guy who refused to go to prom because the committee wouldn’t sell tickets to a same sex couple? Where was the man who stood up to the school bully when he shoved tiny Henry Bolling into a locker?

  He didn’t seem to be anywhere. He was lost underneath this frantic desire for one man’s approval.

  Pastor Carter pressed two fingers to David’s forehead. “There’s always more you can do to show your devotion, my son. We will pray on this together. I know how much you want to please Him.” I didn’t like the undercurrent of what he was saying, but I couldn’t quite figure out why.

  It was hard to get a read on anything in this place when everything gave me the creeps.

  Except…

  I looked across the dining hall to see Sara lift a heavy cast iron pot from the oven. She seemed to struggle under the weight of it, but no one helped her. Several other women bustled around, putting muffins on a plate, mixing porridge, serving the other members—I refused to call them disciples.

  I hated being waited on. It felt weird. And wrong. But I had learned you couldn’t step in and help. Everyone had their place and it was strictly adhered to.

  Sara pushed hair out of her face, her cheeks rosy from the heat of the oven. As if sensing me watching her, she turned around, her eyes meeting mine. She froze for a minute and then…

  She smiled.

  I was bowled over. She had been all but avoiding me since I arrived. As though my presence bothered her for some reason.

  This was new.

  And it felt pretty good.

  I waved at her and gave her a thumbs up. It was lame. But I was rewarded with an eye roll and a twitch of lips that let me know she wanted to laugh.

  It felt like in the crowded room we had just shared something private.

  She had definitely softened towards me since our game of hide and seek in the woods. I wasn’t sure why, but it was nice all the same. I needed a friend in this place. It was either that or go insane like the rest of them.

  “Some of the brothers need help felling trees in the forest today. Bastian would be able to help them?”

  I looked away from Sara and gave my attention back to the people at my table. Daphne Bishop gazed at me closely, her eyes narrowed. She regarded me coldly.

  It was David who had spoken, so I purposefully looked away from Daphne.

  “Of course, I’d love to be of help,” I said truthfully. Chopping down some trees was a hell of a lot better than being stuck in a prayer circle.

  Pastor Carter gave me a smarmy smile. Or maybe it was his normal smile. Either way, it was slick as an oil spill. “And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.”

  What was he going on about this time? He seemed to use scripture willy-nilly, for no other reason than to give feeble credibility to the crap he spewed.

  “Amen,” everyone around us said all together.

  “Amen,” I muttered before taking a bite of bread.

  Pastor Carter rested his chin on his folded hands. “David tells me you’ve been having trouble sleeping, Bastian. Is the house not to your liking?”

  I glanced at my brother, wondering why he was talking about me to the Pastor. Honestly, I was surprised David even noticed. He’d been in religious la-la land since we arrived.

  I felt as though the man were goading me. Poking me for weaknesses, hoping he’d find them.

  I’d be damned if I’d show him any.

  “The house is great. It’s just quieter than I’m used to. I find that the lack of noise makes it hard to go to sleep,” I told him.

  Pastor Carter and Daphne exchanged glances. “It is good that one should wait quietly for the
Lord,” he stated with a condescending smile.

  Uh okay, whatever.

  “You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. The choice is yours, isn’t it?” he went on.

  What did that mean?

  Before I could say anything, he got to his feet, Daphne following him. Everyone stopped eating and immediately bowed their heads until he left the room.

  “Jesus,” I muttered under my breath.

  David elbowed me. “Don’t take the Lord’s name in vain. It’s a sin, Baz.”

  I swallowed the smartass remark that I wanted to lob back at him, knowing it would be of no use.

  I stirred the now cold porridge with my spoon. “Why are you talking to Pastor Carter about me?” I asked my brother.

  “He’s concerned about all of his flock. He wants to make sure you’re content. That you’re at peace,” David replied blandly. No feeling in his voice now that the venerated pastor had left.

  “And if I’m not?” I hedged.

  David went rigid beside me. “Then you’d need to leave. There’s no place at The Retreat for those who don’t believe.” His tone was harsh. I had no doubt he’d turn on me in an instant if he thought I wasn’t living by the rules Pastor Carter dictated.

  The realization that I had lost the loyalty of my big brother hit me hard.

  “David, what’s happened to you?” I couldn’t help myself asking. It seemed at The Retreat blood was definitely not thicker than water.

  I glanced at little Rosie and her family.

  The only bond that mattered was the one these people had with Pastor Carter.

  My brother never answered me. As if an alarm had sounded, everyone got to their feet and silently left the room. Only Sara and the other women serving breakfast were left behind.

  I knew it was time for quiet contemplation. Yet another round of useless praying.

  I was expected to return to the building I was being forced to live in and stay silent until the call to chores.

  Would anyone try to stop me if I walked out the door and kept on going?

  Would David even care?

  I knew the answer and it wasn’t one I liked.