by Sera Trevor
Lola sat down beside him and took his hand, murmuring something comforting in Spanish.
Noah furrowed his brow. “I’m sorry. No entiendo.”
“She wants to know where your wife is,” Marco translated.
Noah froze. He’d forgotten to take off his wedding ring. What could he say? A good wife would be there with him. “She’s sick—” he started, then stopped as inspiration overtook him. “She was sick, I mean. She-she died.” He crumpled and let out a sob.
Marco translated for Lola, and for the crowd that had gathered around them. Lola cooed and patted his hand. Marco said something else to the crowd.
They were no longer wary. Everyone was on his side now, speaking to him sympathetically, even if Noah couldn’t understand their words. Someone got him tissues.
Noah made a show of pulling himself together. “I’m sorry. It’s only been a few weeks. I can’t believe she’s gone.”
Marco shook his head. “No apologies. We understand. And we are here for you.”
Vultures. He managed a smile. “Thank you. I knew you would be.”
13
Some of the congregation left as Lola got Noah a bottle of water. Eduardo gave him a small wave as he left. Noah returned it. About fifteen people stuck around to offer “support.” He had a rapt audience.
“She had a brain aneurysm.” The lie came surprisingly easy. Or maybe it wasn’t surprising. He had lied to his own congregation for years after he lost his faith. “It was so sudden. They said they could save her if they gave her a blood transfusion. But I couldn’t do it.”
Marco translated. They all perked up at this, as he knew they would. Now they were talking to the widower of a real-life martyr. One woman seemed especially moved. She was an attractive older woman about his mother’s age, with salt-and-pepper hair and blue eyes. Her black dress was modest but fashionable. A diamond ring sparkled from one finger.
Noah put a hand on his brow. “I’m ashamed to admit that I feel doubt sometimes. Did I do the right thing?”
As Marco translated, the blue-eyed woman pressed forward and put her hand on his arm. “No! Don’t think that for a moment,” she said in English. She had an American accent. “You saved her. She will live with you forever in Paradise. That’s true love.”
Noah’s heart pounded. Was this her? “Thank you, sister. What’s your name?”
“Maria.”
Got her. Triumph surged in his chest. “Nice to meet you,” he said as evenly as he could manage. “I’m Nathan.”
“Maria also recently arrived from America,” Marco said. “We were happy to welcome her, and we welcome you too. Anything you need, and we will provide it.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.” He turned to Maria. “What I could use right now is lunch. Would you like to join me?”
“I don’t see why not,” she said. She looked to Marco, as if for his approval even though he was at least twenty years her junior. He nodded. She turned back to him. “Yes. Let’s do it.”
Noah said his goodbyes to the others and followed Maria outside. “Did you bring a car?” she asked.
“No, ma’am. Took the bus.”
“Then I’ll drive us. I know just the place.” She retrieved her keys from her purse and pressed the button. To Noah’s surprise, a sleek, black BMW chirped in response. “Nice car.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a worldly thing, I know, but my late husband always drove BMWs. It reminds me of him.”
The restaurant Maria had in mind was in an upscale neighborhood, with black-and-white checkered floors. Noah opened the menu when they were seated. There were no prices, which usually meant they were going to charge a fortune. Good thing they’d paid down the credit card recently.
Maria seemed to sense his thoughts. “I hope it doesn’t hurt your pride too much, but I would like to treat you today.”
Should he fight her on it? What did she expect? “No, I insist. You’ve been so kind already.”
She shook her head. “I chose the restaurant. I have more money than I know what to do with, anyway.”
“Thank you. I really appreciate it.” His eyes lit on the menu again. He could only make out some of it.
The waiter came by after a bit. Maria ordered for both of them. Noah racked his brain, trying to decide how to proceed. Was she even the right Maria? He needed to be sure.
“So,” Noah said after the waiter left. “Do I detect a New Hampshirite accent?”
She looked surprised. “I wasn’t aware there was a New Hampshirite accent! Yes, that’s my home state.”
“I’m from New Hampshire, too.” He regretted the words as soon as they were out of his mouth—what if she told his parents that she met someone else from New Hampshire? Would they figure out it was him? He couldn’t take it back, so he pressed on. “But I couldn’t stay there after my wife died. She had always dreamed of going on a mission. I guess I’ll have to do it for both of us.”
Her eyes teared up. “She would want that. What was her name?”
Noah thought quickly. “Crystal.”
“What a beautiful name. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Noah furrowed his brow until he realized what she meant. “Right. In the new System.”
“And you will meet my Steve. We’ll all be so happy in Paradise.” She touched his hand. “Your story is so incredible. I might have been tempted myself, if I was offered the choice you were. But you remained strong. I am sure Satan is furious that he was unable to tempt you, even with all those doctors under his control.”
Noah just stared at her for a moment. “The doctors worked very hard to save her.”
“Oh, I’m sure they did!” she said quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise. They don’t know that Satan has control of them. That’s his biggest trick. It breaks my heart. I suppose all I can do is make sure to preach the Truth to as many people as I can. That’s all any of us can do, isn’t it?”
“Of course,” he said mechanically.
She spun her wedding ring around her finger. “I hate it, you know. This whole fallen world. I shouldn’t. It’s Jehovah’s creation. But the loneliness here—I can barely stand it. I just want it to be over.” Her eyes grew dark. She shook herself out of it and smiled. “But that’s just me being dramatic. How can I be lonely when I have my brothers and sisters in the Truth with me? In fact, I have house guests right now. Would you believe they are also from New Hampshire?”
The world blurred and then snapped back into focus, clearer than before. “Wow,” he said. “What a coincidence.”
“It’s Jehovah’s work, I’m sure of it. My friends recently had to make a choice that the world wouldn’t understand, just like you did when you told the doctors not to pollute your wife. It’s hard, making those choices, but if you love Jehovah, you must be willing to put His laws first, no matter what.”
He wanted to shake her. “Yes, of course.”
Their meals arrived; they lapsed into silence as they ate. Noah’s mind whirled. He had to get her address. No, it had to be more than that. She was going to tell his parents about her new friend from New Hampshire, and they’d figure it out and take off again. He had to convince her to take him to her house now. But how could he do that without scaring her off?
Easy, he realized. By playing along.
He set down his fork and wiped his mouth. “This has been wonderful, meeting you,” he said with his warmest smile. “I can’t explain how lost I’ve been these past weeks, but I don’t have to, do I? You understand what it’s like, more than anyone. Jehovah brought us together. Your friends, too. I want to meet them.”
“And I’m sure they’d like to meet you! Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow?”
“Can it be tonight? I just—I don’t think I can be alone right now. Last night, I felt so much despair, that I almost—” He cut himself off dramatically. “I can’t even say it. I’m so ashamed.”
Maria put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, you poor thing!
I understand, more than you can know. Yes, of course. No sense in dropping you off. You can just come back with me as soon as we’re finished here.”
A mixture of relief and anticipation rocked through him. His stomach churned; he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep down his lunch. But he had to keep himself together—he was so close. “Thank you,” he said. He forced a smile. “You have no idea what it means to me.”
She returned his smile. “My friends are going to love you.”
Noah’s smile hardened. “I’m sure they will.”
Maria lived in an apartment not far from where they ate lunch. “A rental. Just until I decide where to buy,” she said as she drove.
Noah slouched in his seat and took out his phone, his hands shaking. “What’s your address?” he asked as casually as he could manage.
She frowned. “Why do you ask?”
“So I can find you when I come to visit,” he said. “I imagine I’ll be visiting a lot.”
Her frown flipped into a smile. “You’ll want my phone number, too.”
“Right, let me make a new contact.” He started a text message to Oscar: I’ve found them. Their friend Maria is hosting them. She invited me over. We’re almost there.
Noah turned back to Maria. “Okay, ready.”
Maria gave him her number and address. Noah added them to his text and pressed send. “Got it,” he said.
Thirty seconds later, Oscar replied. WHAT?!?! wtf, you need backup. Stall!!!
Noah texted back: Can’t. Hurry.
“You messaging someone?” Maria asked.
“My roommate.” Noah’s voice cracked. He swallowed and continued. “Fellow American tourist. He wanted to know if I was okay.” Did he sound nervous?
Maria didn’t seem to notice. “How nice for him to look out for you. You should bring him to a service.”
Eventually, Maria turned onto a narrow street, lined on either side by vibrant green trees. The neighborhood was quieter than the hustle of the city. She pulled up to a white building with an orange roof.
Maria parked the car and led Noah to the front door. Noah’s stomach churned, his heart raced. What was he going to do when he saw them? Would they try to run? Attack him? He had been so fixated on finding them that he didn’t have a good plan once he did. Oscar was right. He needed help. He should have stalled, asked Maria to take him on a tour of the city, something. Too late now. He was on his own.
Maria unlocked a wrought iron gate and stepped through, with Noah close behind. Two stories of apartments were arranged around a courtyard. A beautiful sun mosaic decorated the ground. The rays of the sun stretched the entire length of the courtyard, made of tile of brilliant golds, oranges, and reds. In the center of the sun was a wise face gazing up at whoever crossed over it.
She gestured to the stairs. “My place is up and to the right.”
Up the steps, then in through the third door on the right. The apartment was spacious with an open floor plan; the living room, dining room, and kitchen flowed into each other seamlessly. Several colorful paintings adorned the bright, white walls. The furnishing was brand new and stylish. Nothing was out of place. It felt more like a model home than a place where someone actually lived.
And it was quiet. No one was there.
Maria shut the door and locked it. She made her way to the kitchen and picked up a note on the counter. “They’ve gone for a walk,” she said. “Probably trying to get the baby to nap.”
Noah’s fists clenched. He forced them to relax. “A baby, huh?”
“Yes. Sweetest little thing, with a head full of gorgeous black hair. I never had kids. We tried, but it wasn’t meant to be. Would you like some lemonade?”
“Sure.” He was trying to sound casual, but it came out almost a shout.
Maria poured a glass and set it on the breakfast bar. Noah slid onto one of the stools. He put his hands around the cold glass but didn’t pick it up. He didn’t trust that his hands wouldn’t shake. “Nice place.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Maria poured herself a glass. “My husband loved Mexico. We came on vacations often. I’m glad to retire here. It makes me feel closer to him.” She gazed out the window, where tree branches swayed. “There are no winters here, not like the ones in New Hampshire. I think that there won’t be any winters in the new System. Just warm, all year round. And green.”
She talked about the end of the world a lot, even for a Jehovah’s Witness. “I guess we’ll see someday.” He swallowed. “When do you expect your friends will be back?”
“Probably not long.”
As if on cue, the doorknob of the front door jiggled.
“That must be them. How silly of me. I locked them out.” She moved toward the door.
Noah got shakily to his feet. “Can I use your bathroom?” It came out strangled and halting.
“Sure. It’s over there.” She pointed to a door to the right of the entryway.
Noah shut the bathroom door behind him just as Maria let them in. He pressed his ear to the door, listening. The rumble of a stroller. Footsteps, two adults. A baby’s babble. Bette.
“No nap?” Maria’s voice.
“Couldn’t get her down.” His mother.
Noah’s heart slammed against his ribcage. He staggered backward and sat on the toilet, his head in his hands as he pulled at his hair. What should he do? Wait here in the bathroom until Oscar got there? How long would it be? Was he bringing the police?
His breaths came in gasps—hyperventilating. He shut his eyes and slowed his breathing. He had to keep it together. For Bette, and Oscar, and the life he had built in spite of his parents and the religion that preached someone like him could never find happiness. His hands clenched into fists. He would fight for his family.
He stepped out of the bathroom and stood in the entryway, his back to the door. His dad had just sat down on the couch in the living room. His mother was in the kitchen with Maria, Bette in her arms.
“There he is,” Maria said. “My new friend, Nathan.”
His mother turned her head toward him. Their gazes locked. Neither of them moved for one heartbeat, two.
Then she let out a cry. His father stood and whirled around, then let out a shout of his own.
Maria looked between the three of them, baffled. “What’s going on?”
Noah stepped forward. “The police are on their way.” He was proud how steady his voice was. “It’s over.”
His mother held Bette closer. “No.”
“What’s going on?” Maria cried.
Noah didn’t pay her any attention. He continued forward slowly. “Give her back, Mom. She isn’t yours.”
His dad surged forward, swinging his arms. “Get out of here!” he bellowed. “You don’t belong here!”
“You kidnapped my daughter!” Noah shouted back, for once louder than his father. “You broke the law!”
“The laws of man, not the laws of Jehovah. Not like you!” His father rushed him.
Noah held his ground. He was done backing down. His father took a swing at him. Noah ducked and punched him in the stomach. He’d never hit anyone before. It hurt his hand.
His father fell to his knees. Maria shot out the front door, her footsteps echoing down the stairs. His mother was frozen in place. Bette was crying, holding her arms out to him. He wanted to run over and tear her from his mother, but he didn’t want to risk hurting her. He approached slowly.
“Give her back. She’s my daughter.”
“And what about my daughter?” Tears streamed down her face. “I’ve lost her, and you.”
“You think this makes up for that?”
“I don’t know.” His mother’s voice quavered.
Behind him, his father staggered to his feet and stumbled down the hallway toward the bedrooms, but Noah kept his attention on his mom. Bette’s cries turned to wails. “Please, give me back my daughter.”
His mother opened her mouth to respond, and then her eyes went wide. Noah turned to s
ee what she was staring at. His father was pointing a gun at him.
Noah’s heart dropped. He knew his dad hated him, but did he hate him enough to kill him?
“Hannah, bring the baby over here,” his father said, his gun trained on Noah. “We’re leaving.”
She didn’t move. Was she changing her mind? Noah met her gaze. “Is this what you want for Bette? To have her dad gunned down in front of her? To live on the run, as a criminal?”
His mother looked back and forth between Noah and her husband.
“Get over here, Hannah!” his father roared.
“Are you going to turn a blind eye again when he hits her?” Noah pressed on. “Like you did with me, and Rebecca. Are you going to let him hurt her like he did us?”
“You shut your mouth!” his father screamed, spittle flecking from his lips. “Hannah, do as you’re told!”
“Please, Mom.” Noah’s voice cracked. “Please. She’s my daughter. I love her, please.”
A heartbeat passed, then another. And then his mother moved, toward him. She pressed Bette into his arms. “Jehovah forgive me!” She rushed to his father’s side. “You heard him, the police are coming! We have to go!”
Relief washed over him, so strong he almost lost his footing. Noah clutched Bette to his chest as he met his father’s gaze. He was still pointing the gun at him, his expression a mixture of fury and anguish.
His mother put her hand on his arm. “Please, Abe,” she said, quietly this time. “It’s over. We have to go.”
At last, he lowered the gun. They turned, and then they were gone.
Noah’s legs weakened; he stumbled over to the sofa and sat before he fell down. Bette wailed in his arms as he turned her around, examining every inch of her. She was okay. He kissed her head, over and over again. “Shh, it’s okay, baby. Daddy has you. It’s okay. It’s okay.” But he was crying as hard as she was.
He finally calmed them both down enough to get out his phone and call Oscar. “I have her,” he said as soon as he picked up.
A huge, shuddering sigh. “Thank Christ! Where are you?”