Authors: Joshua Graham
“Slow down for a moment, okay?” He reaches for his shirt. But it’s been replaced with a new one Jake left him, as his own was ruined by the gunshot and blood. The mere act of buttoning it is painful for him. He grimaces. “You’re working yourself up.”
I didn’t realize how frantic I’d gotten until I stopped and noticed my chest rising and falling, my heart pounding in my ears. “I’m fine … I’m fine.” With my hand up deflecting any possible approach, I catch my breath and turn away from him. The cows have all gathered outside the doors of a tall barn. They’re entering now in a steady stream.
“Take a deep breath. Good. Now, let’s think this through.”
“Okay.” I turn around. I can’t stand to see him struggling with the shirt, so I go over and help him. “All right. Based on your experience, what do you think we should do?” My eyes are fixed on his as I button his shirt. He’s got to have some answers, a plan, a tiny reassurance that it’s going to be all right. As he speaks, my fingers inadvertently wander into the groove between his pectorals. His skin is smooth, save for the subtle patch of hair that …“I’m sorry, I wasn’t …”
“It’s quite all right.”
“I didn’t mean anything.”
“’Course not.”
Quickly refocusing, I finish buttoning his shirt and step away. My instincts and burning ears tell me to look away. But I’m drawn to his eyes. They’re so intense as the light from the oil lamp strikes his brow, casting a profound shadow over them. “You were saying?”
“We’ll get some prepaid cell phones and calling cards. Can’t contact your father by any traceable means. They’ll be monitoring.”
“They? You think someone in the government has been killing those vets?”
“I’m almost certain of it.”
“But why?”
“The answer to that might just be our salvation. Those visions of yours have gotten us this far, but they’ve also put us in danger. Whatever this is about, someone really doesn’t want you to learn the truth.”
“Jake read me a verse from the Bible. ‘The truth shall set you free.’”
“Who’s Jake?”
The answer comes in a light rapping on the door. “Hello? I heard talking. Everything okay?”
I open the door and let Jake in. “You’re an early bird, Pastor.” He steps in and sees Kyle standing with one hand resting on the edge of the headboard. “Glad to see you up and running, Agent Matthews.” He hands him his gun and wallet. “I’m Pastor Jacob Rittenhouse.”
Kyle reaches to shake his hand. “I want to thank you for …” He places a hand over his wound.
“Glad it fits. But Eli’s the doctor who patched you up. How’re you feeling?”
“Tired.”
While they talk, something tugs on my heart. It’s not Jake or Kyle, personally—at least, I don’t think so. It’s more what they represent. Kyle is security, the one who believed me and risked himself to save me from certain death. And Jake is comfort, understanding, a connection on the spiritual level.
Have I lacked such things so much that I’m emotionally drawn to them now? Until middle school, Dad had always provided security and comfort. But understanding? Well, two out of three’s not too shabby.
No. I am not a little girl seeking a paternal substitute. Am I? Jung and Freud would have a field day with me. I’ve got to focus on the matters at hand.
Unaware of my flight into oblivion all the time they’ve been speaking, Kyle turns to me. “We’ve got a plan.”
61
The first thing we need to do, they tell me, is to remove and destroy the GPS tracking device attached to the car Kyle commandeered at the airport. It’s something many car-service fleets install in their vehicles as an antitheft measure and to track their drivers.
Kyle’s in no condition to crawl under a car right now, so Jake has offered to help me with that. We’ve parked the car in a barn for now and can only hope that the GPS transponder dome was too wet to transmit properly.
“I think it’s that square thing right above the rear window.”
“I’ll get it.” Jake unsheathes a hunting knife and digs under the cover. After a few attempts, the cover pops off. Using a screwdriver, he disconnects two wires. “We’ll need to take the car to El Centro, reactivate the GPS for a few minutes, then disconnect and discard it.”
“You think it’ll work?”
“Agent Matthews seems to think it’ll throw them off the scent.”
“How far is El Centro?”
“About an hour and a half.” He examines the wires on the bare transponder. “I haven’t got a license.”
“No, I couldn’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much. And I wouldn’t want to get you involved in this mess.”
“Seems I already am.” Jake picks up a paper bag and hands it to me. It’s my clothes, washed and ironed. “Compliments of Ruth. She’s such a mother hen.”
“Would you thank her for me? This dress she lent me is nice, but it’s really not my style.”
“I think you look fetching in it.”
“Thanks, but I prefer my Levi’s.” There’s a clean and empty stable, and I’d like to get out of this stiff-collared and drab outfit. “Can I use that to change?”
“Sure, just make sure the door shuts tight. I’ll replace this dome cover so it’s not conspicuous.”
As I disrobe and get into my own clothes, a thought comes to mind. “Jake,” I call out over the open rafters, “do you think Kyle is well enough to take the trip with me to El Centro?”
“He’s still drowsy from the medication. Eli says he needs another week or so to fully recover.”
“Another week!”
“Though he tends to err on the side of extremely overcautious.”
“That’s okay, just wondering.” After getting fully dressed, I step back out. The car is ready. And so is Jake, sitting in the driver’s seat.
“What are you doing?”
“Taking the transponder and getting rid of it.”
“But you don’t have a driver’s license.”
He smiles like a cat with bright yellow feathers between its teeth.
“What?”
“Doesn’t mean I’ve never driven.”
Jake has pulled out of the barn with the nose of the car pointing down the dirt road, where puddles reflect blue sky and white clouds.
“Just don’t tell Eli, all right?”
“I don’t believe this. You want me to lie for you?”
Jake grins. “Try to avoid him so it doesn’t become an issue.”
“This is crazy. I should be the one going.”
“Your face is all over the news. If you go into the city, you increase the chance of getting caught.”
“I don’t know.”
“Hey, let’s pray for success, okay?” He reaches out to me. Guess I’m supposed to hold hands with him while we pray. I don’t mind. He’s silent for a while, concentration pinching shut the corners of his eyes. “Mmmm … Mmm … Yes. Amen.” He opens his eyes and smiles.
“That’s it? Aren’t you supposed to say something? Hail Mary full of grace, Our Father who art in heaven, or something like that?”
“Sometimes prayer is more about listening than speaking.”
“Listening.” That’s something new to me. “And seeing?”
“On occasion.”
“Did you just see something?”
“Kind of.” He puts the transmission into drive and gets ready to drive off.
“Well?”
“I have a feeling our paths will cross again in the future.” He dons a pair of sunglasses—coolest looking pastor I’ve ever seen—then waves and revs the engine. “Later!”
When not resting, Kyle has spent most of the day sitting up in bed, surrounded by papers and pencils, writing out plans and contingency plans. Each time I try to interrupt and inquire, he holds up a hand, “Uh-uh! Never disturb me when I’m planning.”
“Fine.”
I’ve followed Jake’s advice about avoiding Eli. But in doing so, I’ve pretty much avoided everyone else here in the colony as well. They’re not too nosy, though once in a while I catch a glimpse of some of the children. They take furtive glances at me, as if I were some new animal in a cage.
While I’m watching the ducks at a pond behind the barn, Rebecca,
the girl who gave me a towel when I first arrived, comes to sit next to me on a log. “Hello, Rebecca.”
She smiles and presses her face against her shoulder. “You can call me Becky if you like.”
“Hi Becky. How old are you?”
“Seven. What’s
your
name?”
“Xandra.”
“That’s a nice name.”
“You can call me Xandi.” I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Wanna hear something?” She nods. “It’s Xandra, spelled with an X.”
As if she’d been told the world’s naughtiest secret, she puckers her lips and raises her eyebrows. “I thought it was spelled with an S.”
“Xandra is short for Alexandra.”
“I like that.”
“So did my mom, apparently. It’s Greek for ‘defender of mankind’ or ‘warrior.’”
“Wow.” From the look on her face, I’d say she believes that I really am those things.
“I don’t know. I’ve never really been able to defend anyone because I’m always getting myself in trouble.”
Rebecca giggles and puts her hand over her mouth. “Me too.”
“And I’m no warrior.”
“I am.” She sits up tall, her chest proud.
“Really?”
“Oh yes. Come on, I’ll show you.” Rebecca pulls me by the hand and leads me to a clearing under the trees. “Watch me.” She starts to sing a song about the armor of God and does these lively pantomimes to represent the helmet of salvation, the shield of faith, the breastplate of righteousness.
She finishes with a slashing motion with her imaginary sword of the Spirit. “Ta-da!”
“Very nice, Becky!” She takes a deep bow, then curtseys, fanning out the hem of her black skirt. Reveling in my praise, she smiles and skips off into the field where she starts picking dandelions.
Once upon a time, I was just like her. I was the apple of Dad’s eye. Whether it was ballet, soccer, or cello, I lived for his praise. Funny how none of those hobbies lasted, not even cello playing. When I started to notice his pulling away from my life, I sought out things I knew interested him. Photography was to be my next conquest, and it proved serendipitous that I loved it enough to pursue a career in it. Just like Dad.
I really need to call him. He’s probably going crazy with all the news reports and not being able to get in touch with me.
Becky returns and hands me a fistful of dandelions, their spores begging to be launched into flight. “Let’s go.” She pulls my hand into the field. There we blow them into the air. Tiny little parachutes liberated from the effects of gravity. But even they must fall to the ground and die, in order to fulfill their destiny and produce new life.
“Let’s spin, Xandi!”
“Spin?”
“Yes, silly! Like this!” She points her face to the sky, shuts her eyes as warm sunlight bathes her cheeks, and twirls round and round. “Come on, Xandi. It’s fun!”
Fun indeed. I haven’t done anything this childish since … well, since I was a child. Oh, why not? Spreading my wings, I, too, lift my face to the sun, shut my eyes, and spin, while Becky sings an unintelligible song. The simplicity of a child’s world. Unencumbered by the stress and responsibilities of life. All she needs is to be loved and cared for. For this moment alone, I permit myself to be such a child as I indulge in “spinning.”
“Rebecca!”
Startled, we both stop. For the first time on her angelic face, I see fear. She’s too petrified to answer Eli, who stands with one hand on a walking stick. The scowl is so deeply recessed into his face, it looks permanent.
“What are you doing, child?”
She hides behind my back as I greet him. “Eli, good morning.”
“I am talking to her.” He peers around me. “Answer me, Rebecca!”
“What’s the matter?”
“Rebecca!”
“If you stopped shouting and scaring her, she might—”
“
You
… are a bad influence.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Child, I’ll say it one more time. What are you doing?”
“She was just doing what a kid should do.”
“Rebecca missed her morning devotions at school.”
My throat parches. “It’s my fault.”
“It most certainly is!” He steps around me and takes Rebecca by the hand firmly. “Run along to your classroom.”
“Yes, sir.” Down the grassy hill she scampers off until she’s out of view.
Eli mutters something and simply walks away.
“Eli, wait!”
“What is it?”
“I wanted to thank you for helping Kyle.”
He tips his hat. “‘To the least of these,’ saith the Lord,” then continues hobbling down the path.
I match his gait, hold his elbow as we make our way down the wet grass. “We’ll leave as soon as we can, I promise.”
“You’re welcome to stay long as you need, Ms. Carrick. Just remember, we Mennonites are in the world, not of it. You represent all the temptation we strive to avoid.”
“How so?”
“Oh, your worldly ways, televisions that suck your brains and souls dry, your immodest clothes that cause men to falter, your violence and hate. For things such as these have we separated ourselves, lest we fall into temptation and sin.”
I’m not offended personally, though sometimes I wonder if I do dress a certain way deliberately to get noticed. Mom never wanted me to do that when I began to blossom, and for the most part I was a good kid.
But during my decadent college years, and thanks to my wild roommates with whom I still have sushi once a week, I bought my
first thong, Victoria’s Secret Wonderbra, stilettos, and other Friday-night wear.
Except for the sexy underwear, I never actually wore any of those items to go out. And I never messed around with boys the way they did. Add to that the one and only time I got drunk and lost it all over Jenn’s boyfriend’s carpet, and you’ve got the full extent of my decadence. Right out of college, I devoted myself completely to my photography, with Ethan as my one and only mistake. A horrid mistake at that.
“Well, Eli, I’ll try not to corrupt any of the good people here before we leave.”
He lowers his glasses and stares at Jake’s house. “Have you seen Jacob?”
62
The sun is setting and Jake’s not back yet. Eventually I had to confess to Eli, who only scowled and walked back into his house. Hopefully Jake will forgive the betrayal. He was the one who told me, “The truth will set you free.”