I just nod.
Kelvin is standing again, clearly anxious at finding the Prophet in his home.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Clearly it has not been a good evening,” the Prophet replies. He glances about the room but stops when he sees me. I watch as he sizes me up. “I would ask, please, that we be left alone with only the men and this one girl.” His eyes are still fixed on me.
Kelvin nods. “Ladies, children, off you go.”
The room clears and the Prophet and Jacob join Kelvin and me at the table. I want to drink my tea, yet I feel it might be rude in their presence. I wrap my cold hands around the warm mug instead.
“The police came to my home first tonight,” the Prophet says, “accusing us of harboring this...this runaway.”
I feel my face burn, and I drop my gaze to my lap.
“Apparently some boys from Highrock reported talking with her here late one evening.”
Uh-oh.
“I told them I knew nothing about a runaway,” he continues, “but they snooped about until some innocent child revealed where she was living. I saw one of my boys hightail it over here to warn you, and I'm assuming he arrived in time.”
“Yes, sir, he did,” Kelvin says.
“Kelvin,” the Prophet continues, “I clearly had a lapse in judgment when I agreed to let this girl live here. I don't need to explain to you why we can't be drawing attention
to Unity, especially police attention. Surely you remember what happened in â92, when all our children were dragged from their beds in the night and taken to Springdale? Reporters and police officers descended upon our little community, and our faith became the target of vicious accusations. Pictures of us were splashed on the front pages of newspapers right across the nation. It's taken us years to put that event behind us and carry on living the simple peaceful life we strive for.”
“I remember it well,” Kelvin says.
“So the question is,” the Prophet says, “why are we tempting a repeat of that event by harboring a runaway in our community?”
For a man who is supposed to be so great and wise and the channel through which God speaks to us, he sure is insensitive. I've been treated like family here and don't appreciate being called a “runaway.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Jacob says, stepping into the conversation and rescuing Kelvin. “It is I who brought Taviana to Unity. I found her living on the streets, and she told me a story that led me to believe she's one of God's chosen people. I could see that she needed a safe and caring place to live. You may not realize it, sir, but Taviana has been a good and obedient member of our community. She works hard at whatever task she is given.”
Kelvin takes it up from there. “Taviana has been a contributing member in my home over the past few months. My wife Irene is struggling in her current condition, and Taviana has been a tremendous help to her.”
“That may well be,” the Prophet says, “but because of her, the police are now questioning our traditions again. Tonight one of them said that they âknow' of things that go on in this town. I did not like the tone of his voice or what he was implying. I cannot allow this girl to continue living among us and drawing attention our way. I have the safety of our whole community to consider. She must leave immediately.” He pushes back his chair and stands up.
“With all due respect, sir,” Jacob says, also rising to his feet, “my conscience would not allow me to send her back to the life she was leading.”
“Then send her somewhere else,” the Prophet says.
“Perhaps you could ask for the Divine's guidance,” Jacob says quietly, “and assign her to a husband.” He hesitates before continuing. “I would be honored to have a woman such as her as a wife.”
A woman? A sister wife? I can't believe I'm hearing this.
The Prophet glares at him. “That would only make matters worse,” he snarls. “You know exactly what they would say about us then. It's one thing to assign our own daughters to husbands, but something altogether different with a Gentile's daughter.”
There is a silence in the kitchen. I can hear the floorboards creaking upstairs as the others get ready for bed.
“You have one week, Jacob, to find her a different place to live. She is no longer welcome in Unity or in The Movement.”
He stomps out of the kitchen and slams the front door
behind him. Babies all over the house cry out as they are startled awake.
Jacob, Kelvin and I remain at the table in stunned silence. Eventually Kelvin speaks. “Nanette came to me last night, Taviana. She mentioned that Celeste is having impure thoughts and that you may be responsible for them.”
I don't answer. I doubt his oldest daughter is the only girl in Unity having impure thoughts.
“Perhaps you have overstayed your welcome after all,” he says. “I will help Jacob find a place for you to live in Springdale, or somewhere else, and we will try to find you work as well. I'll certainly vouch for your character and your work ethic.”
I push my chair away from the table and stand up. “I never asked to come here,” I tell the men. “Jacob invited me. I was surviving on my own before, and I will survive again. I don't need you to find me anything. A ride into Springdale tomorrow is all that I need.”
“Taviana...” Jacob begins.
His eyes look so sad, and I think about how he offered to marry me to keep me here. “Thanks for all you've done, Jacob,” I tell him. “This isn't your fault. You rescued me, and I've had a safe place to live for a year and a half. I have learned a lot. I appreciate that.”
He looks like he's about to cry. It would do the Prophet good to take some sensitivity training from this man.
I leave the kitchen and begin to climb the back stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. Just as I reach the landing, I hear the back door creak open. I watch to see who could be
coming in. A face peeks around the door, checking to see if the coast is clear. It's Celeste! Our eyes meet and I wave for her to go back outside.
Her eyes open wide, but she gets the message and steps back out the door. I continue up the stairs to the bedroom and climb into bed.
Chapter Seven
A
s soon as I poke my head in the house, I know that something has happened here tonight. It's like the air is electrically charged. It's late and everyone should be in bed, but Taviana's signal lets me know that someone must still be up. I step back outside and cross the yard to the barn. I hope Taviana will come and get me when it's safe to go in.
The minutes tick by. I crouch in the wet grass and lean against the barn wall. Looking up, I'm awed by the starry heavens. The moon is a slender crescent in the sky. I breathe deeply and let the stillness of the evening float gently down on me.
I should be worried. I should be remorseful. Instead I can't stop smiling. It feels exhilarating, being outside late at night, alone. I am not supposed to be here. I was not supposed to be at the river. A week ago I would have suffered agonizing guilt for such behavior, but today I'm
only feeling a rush of joy at getting away with it. What has happened to me?
Eventually I see a figure slip out the side door of the house.
“Taviana, over here,” I call out quietly.
Taviana makes her way over to where I'm crouching and takes my hand in hers. I can feel her shaking. Or is it me that's shaking?
“Let's go inside,” I say, nodding toward the barn.
Sliding the door open, we slip through and inch our way down the corridor. Light from the moon shines through the broken slats in the walls and roof, but our eyes aren't yet accustomed to the dim light. We stumble upon a pile of old horse blankets that have been thrown into a corner. Taviana pulls me down onto them with her and we tug one over us to keep warm. I breathe in the musty scent of sweaty horse.
“Okay, you first,” she tells me. “Where have you been?”
“I met Jon by the river.” The words simply burst out of my mouth. So much for keeping it my little secret.
As soon as the words are out, I realize how inadequate my description of the evening is. I need to expand on it, explain how special it was, how scary, how sad and how exciting, but before I have a chance, she has her arms around me in a hug.
“Celeste! You monkey! I'd hoped that's what you were going to tell me, yet I didn't really believe you'd do it.”
“You hoped?”
“Yeah, well, I know it's breaking rules and all that, but it's so clear you and Jon are hot for each other.”
“Hot for each other?”
“Just an expression. So, spit it out. What happened?”
“Well.” I sit back, remembering. “First we built rock statues.”
“You what?”
I laugh at her question. “You remember that boy I told you about who made that amazing tower out of perfectly balanced rocks, the one that I destroyed?”
“The guy who cursed you with seven years' bad luck?”
“Right. Him.” I smile at her in the darkness. So far the curse hasn't set in. “He also builds these rock...rock men. I saw him a few days ago, making one on the beach down by the playground, and after he left I made one beside his. Tonight I discovered he'd made a third one. Jon and I each made one more. Now there's a whole family of them.”
“Inuksuk,” Taviana says.
“Pardon?”
“Inuksuk. That's what those rock statues are called.”
“They are? How do you know?”
“Just something I know about. Go on. What happened next?”
“Then...then we went and sat under the trees and talked.”
“What did you talk about?”
“Just...stuff.” Remembering the conversation quickly brings me down again, and I don't feel like sharing the details.
“C'mon, Celeste. You can do better than that.”
“Well, he found an arrowhead on the beach and told me where it came from.”
“And that's it?”
“No...he asked...he asked if I'd ever questioned the ways of The Movement.”
“He did?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you said...”
“Yes.”
“And then he said...”
“That he did too.”
“And then?”
“He asked if I'd ever consider leaving Unity.”
I could feel Taviana's body shift. “What did you say to that?”
“I said of course not! How could I?”
Taviana looks away, and I feel the arm that is pressed against mine become tense.
“What is it, Taviana?”
“Nothing. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well...” Should I tell her? I decide I've come this far, I might as well go all the way, but my mouth goes dry.
“Well what?” she prompts.
“Then, well, then...”
“Celeste!”
“He kissed me.”
Taviana pulls away so she can look directly into my face. “Are you serious?”
I nod and my heart swells at the memory of it.
“That is way cool!”
Way cool. Another of Taviana's odd sayings. “I don't know. It scared me. I ran off.”
“You ran off?”
I feel my face burn as I nod. I decide to change the subject.
“So, now it's your turn,” I tell her. “What happened here tonight?”
I can feel Taviana pull away from me, and suddenly I know something is terribly wrong. Here I am going on and on about my evening, and I haven't given one thought to what went on in hers.
“Celeste,” Taviana says.
“Yeah?”
“I have bad news.”
“What?” I feel my heart patter in my chest. “Is Mom okay? Rebecca?”
“They're fine.”
“What then?”
“I'm leaving.”
“Leaving?”
“Uh-huh. Tomorrow.”
For a moment I don't understand what she's saying. “You're leaving Unity?”
She nods, and I see the shimmer of tears in her eyes.
“Why?”
“The Prophet ordered me to.”
“He did? What happened?” I feel faint. How could
something so devastating have happened during the only two hours I've ever slipped away?
And then I know. This is all my fault. The surge of pleasure I'd experienced at being disobedient flips into total and utter remorse. This is God's way of punishing me.
“The police came,” Taviana says. “They accused your family of keeping meâa runawayâhere against my will. I was hiding in the crawl space, but after they left, the Prophet came over and told me I'd have to be gone within a week. He said he couldn't have the police snooping around here. I promised your father I would leave tomorrow.”
“Oh no, Taviana, you can't.”
“I have no choice, Celeste.”
“This is all my fault!” I clutch onto her as sobs overwhelm me.
She holds me, and we rock together. Eventually she asks, “Why is this your fault?”
“Because I didn't practice purity. I was disobedient. I even enjoyed being disobedient. Now He's punishing me.” I feel a wail coming on.
“You don't really believe that, do you, Celeste?” Taviana asks softly.
“Of course I do.”
“Well I don't,” she tells me firmly. “This has nothing to do with God. I'm just leaving because I make the Prophet nervous. Don't you dare think it has anything to do with you.”
I wipe my nose with my sleeve. She's wrong, but I won't dwell on the point. “Where will you go?”
She shrugs. “It doesn't really matter. I've been homeless before. I'll survive.”
“You won't...”
She squeezes my hand. “No, Celeste, I won't go back to that. I've been here too long.” I can hear her swallow. “When I think about the me I was then...” She hesitates. “Well, I'm way different now.”
“You liked living here?”
I see her nod in the dark. “Though I don't think I could have stayed here forever. I'm not one of you.”