Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (13 page)

“I guess I can understand that,” I admit. To be honest, I was somewhat distracted when I sat next to Josiah. There were moments when I was more aware of Josiah sitting next to me than I was of the reverend’s preaching. Perhaps I’ll absorb his teaching better without that kind of distraction. Still, I long to speak to Josiah. But now I’m afraid that will be forbidden as well.

Dinner is another disappointing meal of blasé foods prepared in a bland and boring way. As I poke at my pasty mashed potatoes, I wonder if there’s a spiritual reason to have tasteless food. Perhaps it’s sinful to enjoy eating. In that case, I may be in trouble because my love of food and flavors will be difficult to shake.

Miriam introduces me to several of her friends. They’re all older than I am, and although they try to be pleasant, I find their conversation to be about as exciting as the menu.

After dinner, people are milling about in front of the dining hall, and to my relief, Josiah approaches me. “How’s it going?”

“I don’t know …” I glance over my shoulder.

“Something wrong?”

I shrug. “It’s just not quite what I expected.”

“I know there’s a lot to get used to here.”

“I didn’t realize there was so much segregation.”

“You mean separating men and women?”

I nod.

“Yeah, that takes some getting used to.”

I force a smile. “But it’s okay to talk to you like this now?”

“Sure. With other people around us like this, it’s all right.”

“But no private conversations?”

He shakes his head no.

“I’ll miss you.”

Now he smiles. “We might be able to find a way around this.”

Feeling Miriam’s gaze on me, I try not to look too hopeful. “How?”

“There are ways.”

“I know you have a cell phone,” I say. “But mine was confiscated.”

“Phones are no use here. The cell phone I have is really for business use. But we can communicate in other ways. I’ll figure something out.”

“Speaking of phones” — I suddenly remember something — “I need to call my mom … or else she’ll be worried. I mean, if she calls my cell phone and I don’t answer or return her calls.”

Josiah’s mouth twists to one side. “Yes, you should definitely do that.”

“How?”

“You can use the cell phone.” He explains that it’s in the delivery truck and that the truck is unlocked. “Go ahead and use it. Go right now, before it’s time for the service to begin. If anyone sees you, just explain that I said it was all right. I’d go with you, but that would just attract more attention.” He turns away and walks over to where a group of older men are talking.

Feeling like a criminal but seeing that Miriam is now visiting with her friends, I slip away and head directly for the dairy. As Josiah said, the truck is unlocked and the cell phone is right where he said it would be. Still feeling nervous, I dial the number to my house, but as it’s ringing I think I should’ve dialed my mom’s cell instead.

“Hello?” a man’s voice says.

“Oh? I’m sorry, I must have the wrong number.” I hang up and look to see if I dialed wrong. But the number in the call history is correct. Feeling curious, I dial it again. This time my mom answers. “Who was that?” I demand.

“Sorry,” she says a bit breathlessly. “That was Tom. From my work. Do you remember him?”

“Why’s he answering our phone?”

“He’s helping me pack.”

“Pack?”

“Yes. I’m moving us into that condo unit I told you about. Tom’s saving my life by helping me.”

“You’re moving? Right now?”

“Yes, Rachel. I told you we’re losing the house. If I don’t pack up and get us out of here, we could lose our stuff as well.”

“You’re packing up my room too?”

“Actually Tom’s doing that.”

“Tom is packing up my room?” I can hear the anger in my voice. But seriously, why is a strange man going through my things?

“Don’t go ballistic, Rachel. Tom has two daughters. It’s not like he’s never seen girl stuff before.” She laughs like this is funny.

“Mom!”

“I’m tired and this has to be done. You’re not here to help, and Tom is. I don’t need you to throw a hissy fit.”

Now I’m too mad to say anything.

“Look, Rachel, the good news is we’ll be all moved by the weekend. Then I’ll drive up there and get you, and you can get settled into your new room.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say crisply.

“Did you get another job?”

“Yes.” I take in a deep breath and just hold it.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Good for you!”

Now I wonder if she’s glad that I found another job or glad that I won’t be coming home anytime soon.

“What kind of job?”

I let the breath go. “In a restaurant.” I force brightness into my voice, trying to coat my lie like a sugar donut. “As a sous chef.”

“Oh, Rachel, that’s fantastic. I’m so happy for you.”

I sigh. “Sorry I got so grumpy over Tom packing my room. I’m sure it must be overwhelming. That’s nice he could help you.”

“It is overwhelming, sweetheart. And sad. After living in this house all these years and now sorting it all out … overwhelming doesn’t even begin to describe it.”

“Do you want me to come home and help?” Suddenly I think this is the answer. My mom needs me. I should go.

“No. You stay put. With Tom’s help, I’m making good progress. And it actually feels good to thin things out. Less is really more. Right?”

I think about my new Spartan lifestyle. “Yeah … I guess so.” I see someone walking into the dairy and I duck down. “Well, I better go, Mom. And by the way, that old cell phone you gave me isn’t working. I had to borrow a friend’s phone to call you. But don’t worry, if I need anything I’ll call you from the, uh, from the restaurant. And I’ll be pretty busy.”

“You and me both, Rachel. Thanks for calling. Love you, honey!”

“Love you, Mom.” I close the phone and take in a slow, calming breath. It doesn’t feel good to have just lied to my mom. But I didn’t know how to tell her where I really am or what I’m doing here. What am I doing here? Now I hear the sound of a bell ringing and I realize that must be for church. So, checking to be sure no one’s around to see me, I slip out of the truck, quietly close the door, and jog back over to the meeting hall.

“Where have you been?” Miriam demands.

“I had to use the restroom.”

“But there’s one in the dining hall. You weren’t there.”

“There’s a restroom in the dining hall?” I say innocently. “I guess I didn’t need to go all the way back to the cabin then.”

“Well, let’s hurry. It won’t do to be late.”

As we file in, I notice that the left side is only occupied by females. Whereas the right side has a mix. Families fill the front five or six rows and then men — and not very many — fill the rows behind them. It’s not like I want to take a head count tonight, but I’m somewhat surprised to see that women must outnumber men by at least four to one, and I can’t help but wonder why.

The midweek evening service feels much more serious than the Sunday services. And as hard as I try to listen, I feel like I’m only able to take in bits and pieces. Much of what Reverend Jim says is similar to what I read this afternoon, but much of his theology goes way over my head too. And yet something about it is compelling and appealing. And it’s reassuring to think that God has such a definite plan for order and discipline. Plus I find the reverend’s focus on doing our best and the power of servitude to be refreshing as well as challenging. Especially after my recent experience at Nadine’s, a place where no one seems to appreciate diligent workers.

It’s getting dusky as people gather outside of the meeting house to visit. And once again, since this is a public place, Josiah approaches me, politely asking me if I liked the evening service.

“Very much so. I think this place is a much better fit than working at Nadine’s.”

He looks relieved to hear this.

“Speaking of Nadine’s, I wondered if I could send my uniform with you the next time you make a delivery there.”

“Sure. That will be Tuesday morning.” He glances around to see if anyone is listening. “And I have an idea for communicating. You know the bench that’s near the trail right before you turn off to the cabins?”

“Yes.” I try to act natural, not like we’re making some clandestine date, although that’s what it feels like.

“I’ll place a large stone right next to that bench, arranging it so a note can be slipped beneath it. Now if you walk by and see there’s a pebble on top of the big stone, you’ll know there’s a note underneath.” He smiles, glancing around again. “Make sense?”

“Sure. Sounds like a good plan.”

“And here comes my uncle now.”

“Hello.” Reverend Jim smiles as he greets us. “Are you getting all settled in, Rachel?”

“Yes, Miriam has been very helpful.”

His gaze skims over my drab dress. “I see she’s assisted you with some, uh, appropriate attire.” He looks at Josiah now and chuckles. “Although it appears that Miriam went out of her way to be sure it was one of the worst-looking dresses I’ve seen in this place.”

Josiah laughs. “I was thinking the same thing, Uncle. Just didn’t want to say it.”

Feeling embarrassed, I smooth my hands over the skirt of my dress. “It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter.”

Now Reverend Jim is waving over to his wife, motioning for her to join us. “You’ve met Celeste, haven’t you?” he asks as the pretty blonde woman comes over and stands by him.

“Yes. We met last Sunday.”

He grins at his wife. “I was just telling Rachel that her dress is one of the ugliest things I’ve seen in ages.”

“Oh, Jim,” she scolds in a humored tone. “What a thing to say.”

“Well, it’s true. Don’t you reckon?”

Celeste gives me an apologetic smile, then sheepishly nods. “I’m sorry, Rachel, but I must agree with my husband on this.”

“I know Miriam meant well,” the reverend says to us, then turns to his wife, “but perhaps you could help Rachel find something a little less homely to wear.”

“I certainly can,” she tells him.

“Although we want our women dressed modestly and decently, we do not expect them to look like bag ladies.”

“Jim.” Celeste pokes him in the arm as she glances around to see if anyone else is listening or might be offended by this. “Go easy.”

He laughs. “Rachel knows that I speak my mind. I call things as I see them.”

I nod eagerly. “And I respect that. I really do.”

Now he gets a serious expression. “I just hope you’ll feel that way if I ever have to confront you on a difficult subject.”

“I’m sure I will.”

“Now as far as your wardrobe needs,” Celeste says to me. “Why don’t you stop by the house tomorrow morning and we’ll see what we can do? Say, tenish?”

“Sure.” I eagerly nod. “And I do know how to sew. I could probably make my own dresses if I had some fabric and could borrow a sewing machine.”

“You can sew?” Celeste seems truly impressed by this. She turns to Josiah and gives him a sly smile. “You certainly found a good one, didn’t you?”

Josiah lets out a nervous laugh. “Rachel is full of all sorts of hidden talents.”

Celeste studies me with clear blue eyes. “I have a feeling you’re a real treasure.” She reaches out to clasp my hand in hers, giving it a warm squeeze.
“Welcome.”

Miriam comes over to join us now. “I reckon we should head back to the cabin,” she tells me. “Your shift won’t start as early as mine, but you have a busy day ahead of you all the same.”

“That’s right,” Reverend Jim says. “Early to bed, early to rise makes a soul happy, healthy, and wise.”

I know that’s not exactly how that old Benjamin Franklin quote goes, but I know better than to correct him on it. Instead I tell everyone good night and walk with Miriam back to our cabin.

“The reverend seems to have taken a shine to you,” she says as we go into the cabin.

Something about the way she says this feels a little unsteady to me. “I suppose that’s because I’m Josiah’s friend,” I say lightly. “The reverend seems to care deeply for his nephew.”

“The reverend is no respecter of persons,” she says a bit sharply.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we are all equal, Rachel. No one is better than anyone else. Whoever would be great must learn to serve.”

“That sounds right.” Sitting down, I take off my sandals and let out a long yawn. “I’m so tired. And it’s so incredibly quiet here. I’ll bet I sleep like a baby tonight.”

“Nothing compares to the sleep of the just. A clear conscience is better than the best sleeping pill.”

I turn away as she begins peeling off her dress. Not so much out of respect, although that’s certainly part of it, but more because the sight of her bony body and wrinkly skin makes me feel too uncomfortable.

[CHAPTER 12]

B
ecause no one told me what time I’m supposed to report to work and because I slept so soundly, I don’t show up at the dining hall until breakfast time. But as soon as I’m done eating, I go into the kitchen.

“I’m here to work, if you need me,” I tell Eleanor.

She scowls at me. “It’s about time.”

“I’m sorry. But no one told me what time I was expected to come to work.”

“Seeing that breakfast is at eight, I’d think you’d figure it out.”

“I’m really sorry. I hope you can forgive me.”

Now her face softens. “Yes, of course I can forgive you.”

I reach for an apron, slip it over my head, and tie it behind me. “Now what time do you want me to come to work in the mornings?”

She pushes a damp strand of hair from her forehead and sighs. “Seven is early enough.”

“Fine.” I nod. “And what would you like me to do?”

She glances over to where a couple of girls are rinsing dishes and loading them into the sliding commercial dishwasher. “Bethany and Lydia, come here and meet Rachel.”

The girls come over, wiping their damp hands on their aprons and looking shyly at me as we’re introduced. I’m surprised to see they’re even younger than I assumed. Probably a few years younger than I am.

“These girls are sisters,” Eleanor explains. “Their father is Deacon Don. The girls usually work here in the mornings and do their schoolwork in the afternoons.”