Yet, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on his face as he watched his brother walk away. I understood that kind of heartbreaking sadness. The kind you thought you’d never recover from. I felt it all those years ago as a child.
Maybe I never got over it.
Looking at Bastian I didn’t think he would either.
Pastor Carter hesitated. “He doesn’t have the heart of a believer.”
“Maybe not, but perhaps he will with time,” I argued gently. I had never gone against Pastor about anything. I had never spoken up. I had never voiced an opinion that differed from his. I wasn’t sure where this fight came from. This need to make my voice heard.
It was scary. But it felt powerful too.
Pastor squinted his eyes in the dark, trying to read my expression. My mood. “This is important to you, isn’t it?”
I bowed my head. “I think it’s important for all of us. Embrace the sinner, right?”
Pastor Carter was quiet for a few moments. Considering. Contemplating.
“Will his sins ever be cleansed?” he asked, his eyes piercing, reading me too easily. I felt naked in front of him. Vulnerable.
I swallowed thickly, feeling the tension in the air. This was a moment of absolute change. Everything hinged on what I said next. Was I being stupid in championing this stranger?
Was it what God wanted?
“If he follows the path, he will be called home,” I finally answered; my words barely above a whisper.
Pastor narrowed his eyes. His hand tightened on my arm. It hurt.
Then without another word he pulled the remote from his pocket and pushed a button. The gate slowly opened again.
Bastian hurried forward. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Pastor,” he gushed. He met my eyes and they burned there. Hot and dangerous. “Thank you too, Sara.”
I swallowed, my mouth dry. My heart fluttered wildly in my chest and I was finding it hard to breathe. This felt wrong.
But it also felt right.
It was confusing.
Pastor Carter’s mouth was set in a rigid line, his lips thin, his brow furrowed. “The Retreat is our sanctuary. We take our mission seriously. None of us will tolerate betrayal.”
His words were threatening. The intent clear.
Bastian had to be on his best behavior. He needed to devote himself to the path. Or he would be forced out. It was that simple.
Bastian nodded. “Of course. I want to be here. I want to learn—”
“We’ll see,” Pastor Carter interrupted. He let go of my arm and I felt a sting of relief. Then guilt.
Always the guilt.
“Sara, can the two of you walk back to The Retreat? We don’t have room in the cab of the truck.”
Walk?
It was over two miles away. And it was cold. And it was dark. And we’d have to walk through the woods.
And I’d be with a stranger.
I glanced at Bastian out of the corner of my eye. He didn’t look happy at the suggestion.
“We can ride in the bed of the truck. It’s late. And I’m sure Sara here doesn’t want to walk all that way,” he piped up.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Really—” I began to say.
“It’s really not. I’m not sure how far away this retreat is, but it’s cold and it looks like the only way anywhere is up a mountain. Plus, it’s starting to rain,” Bastian cut in.
He was right. The humidity had broken and we were being pelted with heavy drops of rain.
“Fine, ride in the back,” Pastor barked, his annoyance showing.
Bastian Scott would have to learn to swallow his arguments. To tamp down his anger. It was the only way he’d be able to stay.
Bastian hesitated for a moment. “I left my things back in my car at the bottom of the hill—”
“Someone will go and fetch them tomorrow,” Pastor snapped, frowning.
“I can’t leave my car there. And I don’t really see anywhere to park the thing.” Bastian looked around at the open fields. The thick forest.
“We all must make sacrifices to join God. This must be yours,” Pastor intoned solemnly, though his mouth twitched, as though trying not to smile.
Bastian seemed confused. “My sacrifice? You mean my car?”
Pastor steepled his hands together beneath his chin, bowing his head. “We all must give if we are to receive.”
I had no idea what he was talking about. Another of Pastor’s riddles. Bastian looked as though he wanted to demand an explanation, but I knew he wouldn’t get one. Not until Pastor Carter was ready to give it.
“You’ll get your things, Bastian. Don’t worry about it tonight,” I said, jumping in before he angered Pastor.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” Bastian gave me a stiff smile and then followed the Pastor to the truck. After a heartbeat, I joined him.
David got out as we approached and held the door open. “I can sit in the back,” he insisted.
“Sara will be all right, David,” Pastor Carter assured him. “It’s important we have this time to talk before we reach The Retreat.” Pastor gave me a piercing look. Why did I get the sense he blamed me for something?
My heart quivered slightly.
My skin went frigid. It had nothing to do with the cold rain.
This had gone upside down very quickly. I wondered if all arrivals were this unnerving.
“I’ll be fine back here, David. You need to be with Pastor,” I said.
I hopped in the bed of the truck before anyone else could say anything.
Bastian joined me, sitting on the opposite side. He looked at me a little too long. I tried to ignore him. I turned my face away. But I felt his eyes on me like a physical thing.
I pulled my sleeves down over my hands, trying not to give any indication of how chilly I was. I ducked my chin into my chest, attempting to shelter my face from the rain as much as possible.
Bastian unzipped his coat and handed it to me. “Here,” he said gruffly.
I looked at him in confusion.
Bastian sighed and shook the coat. “Put it on. You look like you’re going to freeze.”
I shook my head. “I’m fine. I’m used to the rain and cold,” I remarked haughtily.
This time Bastian did roll his eyes. “Fine, suit yourself.” He put the coat back on and pulled the hood up over his head. A few minutes later the sky opened up and the rain poured down. I was soaked in seconds.
I berated myself for not accepting the coat when it was offered.
We bounced along the poorly graveled path. I could barely see anything and that was just as well. It felt good to be hidden. I was too busy being wet and miserable anyway.
“You sure you don’t want my coat?” Bastian asked.
“I’m fine,” I all but shouted, trying to stop my teeth from chattering.
“Hmm,” I heard Bastian say.
“What?” I asked, finding his presence grating, particularly with rain running down the back of my too thin shirt.
“You say that a lot.”
“Say what?”
“That you’re fine.”
“That’s because generally I am.”
The tip of my nose was cold. My fingers felt numb. The air was not kind on my skin. Thunder crackled overhead. I hated storms. Always had.
“Hmm,” Bastian repeated.
“What?” I asked again, letting my annoyance show. The ride back to The Retreat seemed to take twice as long as it should have.
“I wonder if you really are.”
“Really what?”
I was growing tired of this conversation. Of this ride in the cold, cold dark. Of sharing a space with a man I had championed to be here in the first place and now wished I hadn’t.
“If you’re really fine. Because to me it doesn’t seem that way.”
I opened my mouth to reply. To shoot out a sassy retort. To tell him he was full of crap. He didn’t know what he was talking about. But I didn’t. It was best to keep my words to my
self.
It’s what Pastor Carter would expect of his disciples. We didn’t give voice to foolish thoughts.
Bastian let out a sigh and this time I looked at him. I could barely see him in the diminished light. Just the vague outline of his prominent nose and chin.
“Maybe you’ll figure out that not everything you think is true really is,” I said with an air of superiority I didn’t quite feel.
“And maybe one day you’ll figure out that lying to yourself is almost worse than lying to someone else,” he murmured.
We fell into silence after that.
There was nothing more to say.
I didn’t see much of Bastian or David for the first few days after they arrived.
Which was just as well. I was starting to think Bastian Scott’s presence was a herald of doom.
Nothing had felt quite right since he and his brother had shown up. I couldn’t shake the sense of disquiet that had lodged itself deep in my gut.
After we had gotten back to The Retreat all those days ago, Pastor Carter had taken the Scott brothers to a cabin on the edge of the woods. It was newly built. I had seen the men erecting the structure over the course of several weeks.
I had expected to see them at mealtime. Or prayer time. They showed up to neither.
I wondered why. It was unusual for new disciples to be kept separate. Usually they were integrated immediately. Pastor would bring them to the gathering room and we would come together, listening closely as our leader spoke to the new members. It was a ritualized beginning for a routinized way of life. We were never given a back story. The past didn’t matter. It was the present that we concentrated on. Our collective future that was the goal.
We’d pray together. We’d sing together. It allowed us all to begin to acquaint ourselves. To learn. To develop an attachment that was essential if we were to be family.
There was no immersion when it came to David and Bastian.
There was something about the Scott brothers that seemed different. I thought about Bastian the night he and David came and I knew that had to be part of the issue. Bastian wasn’t meant to be a disciple. I knew a non-believer when I saw one. He had swallowed his misgivings to follow his brother. Something about that kind of loyalty had gotten to me. Had propelled me to speak out in favor of his joining us inside the gates.
Maybe one day you’ll figure out lying to yourself is almost worse than lying to someone else.
Or maybe that tiny, rebellious part of me that wouldn’t be quashed craved the newness he brought with him. The air of dissent that sizzled in his wake.
He didn’t look at Pastor Carter as though he were the Lord incarnate. Bastian met his eyes and dared him to make a believer out of him. There was a challenge in his demeanor that I found sort of exciting.
It was wrong of me to feel that way.
I had turned the underside of my arms black and blue trying to get rid of these unwanted thoughts.
While others were impatient to meet the brothers, who had come days ago and been kept a strange sort of secret, I wasn’t.
The thrill of their presence disturbed me.
I wonder if you really are. If you’re really fine. Because to me it doesn’t seem that way.
“I saw the younger one through the window of their cabin. He must have been talking to the older brother and he didn’t seem happy,” Anne mentioned as she plucked a blade of grass and twirled it between her fingers.
“What were you doing skulking outside their cabin?” Minnie made a face and Stafford chuckled. I wanted to smack the both of them for their rudeness. Anne barely seemed to notice. That was how she was. She never paid attention when she should. Her obliviousness was both beautiful and sad.
“I was walking to the shower. It’s on the way,” Anne corrected, sucking the grass between her lips.
“What are their names again, Sara? I can’t remember,” she asked, leaning back on her hands, spitting the grass from her mouth.
Five sets of eyes swung my way, waiting for me to answer. Eager for information, Minnie leaned forward, her eyes wide. “Tell us everything, Sara. You were there for their arrival. What happened?”
We all sat outside in a group—as we always did—waiting for Devotional to begin.
Anne, Minnie, Caitlyn, Stafford, Bobbie, and I formed a deformed sort of circle. Knees touching, hands folded in our laps.
All of us dressed in white, as was dictated for the quiet, reflective prayer time all disciples were expected to attend for three hours daily.
When I was younger I dreaded Devotional time. I found it boring. And you are absolutely forbidden from falling asleep.
“Close your eyes and connect with God. Listen to the sun’s melody. It will help guide you on your path. It reveals all truths,” Pastor Carter told us. I couldn’t understand why I was told to close my eyes but not permitted to sleep.
I learned quickly there were consequences for not adhering to the order of things.
I was comfortable. The grass was warm on my back. The sun was like a blanket over my skin. The soft, synchronized breaths of the disciples around me sounded like a lullaby.
I actually started to relax a little. For the first time in a long time my nine-year-old body didn’t feel coiled like a spring.
I wasn’t taking to my new life very well. Everyone saw it.
Most of all Pastor Carter.
I hadn’t meant to drift off. But I did.
I was jostled awake by my mother’s angry voice.
“Wake up, Sara! Wake up!”
I opened my eyes to find a group of faces staring down at me.
And Pastor Carter, his expression stern in the middle of it all.
“I think Sara is missing the point of Daily Devotional.” He was so quiet. But so kind. As if he felt sorry for me. As if I were breaking his heart by disappointing him.
I couldn’t be angry when he locked me in the tiny, windowless room in the woods. The air hot and still.
I was told this was for my benefit. I had to learn. I had to be saved.
I believed Pastor even as I struggled not to freak out in the dark.
I couldn’t be upset when I was kept there for several days to learn the importance of prayer. The importance of obedience.
The importance of following God’s word in all things.
Because he only wanted the best for me. My soul mattered…
Anne snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Hello! Earth to Sara!”
I blinked to clear my vision and gave her my attention once again. “Sorry, what was the question?”
Stafford and Minnie snorted, sharing a look, but I ignored them. They loved any excuse to look down on me. Anne said it was their jealousy because I was special. Because Pastor Carter valued me most.
It didn’t stop it from hurting. In some ways, I was still your typical eighteen-year-old girl wanting to be liked and accepted by her peers. Most days I felt full and warm.
Some days…
I didn’t.
My cheeks flamed hot. I wanted to tell Stafford, with his dread locked hair and silly woven necklaces, to shut up. I wanted to tell Minnie that kissing up to every single elder, including my mother, wouldn’t make her more important.
But I didn’t.
Speaking my true mind got me nowhere.
There were consequences to voicing negativity.
Anne put her hand on my knee, her eyes forever kind. “The new disciples. The young one. What’s his name?”
“Bastian Scott,” I answered.
Saying his name felt strange on my tongue. Foreign and uncomfortable.
“Bastian? What kind of name is Bastian?” Stafford snickered.
“It’s right up there with Stafford,” Anne retorted, her lips pulling upwards in a mischievous smirk. My eyes widened in surprise. Anne wasn’t known for her zingy comebacks.
“Ha-ha, Anne,” Stafford muttered.
“Seriously though, why haven’t they been to lessons? Or Daily Dev
otional? Or the Sun’s Morning Blessing?” Minnie pointed out.
“Pastor Carter has his reasons,” I cut in tersely.
Minnie and Stafford rolled their eyes in unison. “I should have known better than to say anything in front of super disciple,” Minnie snarked.
“Minnie, enough,” Bobbie snapped. “Pastor Carter has taught us to be kind to each other. So be kind.” Minnie’s eyes widened slightly but she shut up. Stafford looked away, his cheeks red.
We were all a little surprised. Bobbie wasn’t one to speak often. He was a quiet sort. Kept to himself. He only sat with us because it was expected. He only added to the conversation when it was required. I was shocked he came to my defense at all.
“It’s okay, Bobbie—”
He waved away my words as if it was all so inconsequential. I didn’t bother to thank him again. I wasn’t sure if it would even matter to him. Bobbie Mann was a mystery. More so than the other disciples. No one knew much about his past. He came to The Retreat when he was sixteen with nothing more than the shirt on his back. He didn’t arrive with anyone. He never spoke of his past. He never cried for lost family. He came alone. And that seemed to suit him. I always wondered where his parents were, but no one ever said. He was embraced as part of the family and that was that.
“Shit, there they are,” Stafford whispered and all our attention immediately went elsewhere.
The murmurs around us stopped. Silence blanketed everything as we took in the appearance of our newest family members. And it wasn’t the tranquil kind of quiet that we were used to. This was expectant. Curious. Even as we all tried to hide it. We observed closely, gleaning details where we could.
David and Bastian stood at the edge of the clearing. David had shaved and was now wearing a pair of camouflage pants and a grey T-shirt. Still wearing his own clothes, he looked hopelessly out of place. And tired.
Even from that distance I could see the dark circles beneath his eyes. He ran a hand over his closely shorn head and I got the impression it was an agitated gesture. His gaze flitted around the congregation before him, landing on each of us briefly but never lingering.
His brother was another story. Bastian stood tall, his shoulders rigid. He was neatly dressed in a pair of jeans and a dark blue button down shirt. His lips were pursed in a thin line and he lifted his chin almost defiantly.