Outside (5 page)

Downstairs the table is set with small bowls of soup and plates piled with rice and vegetables in some kind of sauce. I slide into the chair I sat in this afternoon and place my napkin in my lap, unsure if I should wait for the others before saying grace. A clock on the front of the stove reads six forty-two. I nearly slept the whole afternoon!

I decide to say grace by myself. “Dear Lord, please keep Mother safe and forgive me of my great sin. I did not mean to bring this shame on my family and I will do anything you wish to rectify it.”

Snickering behind me lets me know I’m not alone. I finish the prayer silently and when I open my eyes, Holly and a girl with dark skin and long black braids slide into their seats at the table.

“What’s up?” Holly says, lifting her fork.

I offer a guarded smile, unsure of how to answer her.

“I’m Jacki,” the girl with braids says. She smiles, exposing perfect straight, white teeth.

I’ve never met someone with skin darker than mine before. In the book I took from the library, there was a warrior queen named Xania who was described as being dark-skinned and beautiful, but ruthless. I imagine that Jacki and Xania look similar, because Jacki is very pretty.

“You just gonna stare at her?” Holly says, smirking.

I blink. “No. I just…” I trail off and stare at my plate.

“Holly,” Beth warns, walking into the kitchen. “Kindness and patience, remember?”

Holly sighs. “Sorry.”

We all begin to eat in silence. The food is unlike anything I’ve ever tasted and it takes all my self-control not to stick my face in the plate as I shovel in fork-full after fork-full.

“So,” Jacki says after a while. “Are you going to school with me and Holly in August?”

I blink at her. “I plan to return to Shiloh before then.”

Jacki frowns at me and looks to Beth. “Didn’t they shut that place down?”

Beth starts to answer, but I interrupt, blurting, “You can’t shut down something that belongs to the Lord.” I immediately cringe. I spoke out of turn! “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Beth says. “We encourage free speech here.”

I peek up at her. “Really?” Free speech is dangerous. People just spouting whatever pops into their head? “In Shiloh we are only permitted to answer direct questions, and even then, our answers must to be in line with what is pleasing to the Lord.” I’ve been violating that rule a lot since I got here.

Beth nods. “That’s an interesting way of doing things.”

Jacki’s question about Shiloh being shut down hangs over me. “What do you mean that Shiloh was shut down?” I ask Jacki.

Her wide brown eyes dart to Holly and back to me. “You know. Just that the cops raided it and shut it down. Arrested that guy. What was his name?”

“William Albert,” Beth says.

I shake my head. “There wasn’t anyone in Shiloh by that name. I think you’re mistaken.” I knew they couldn’t have shut Shiloh down. The Lord would never permit it.

Beth glances up at me. “I think you knew him as Milton Berman, sweetie. Big guy? Glasses? He changed his name to hide from the law.”

Scowling, I stare down at my plate. Suddenly the delicious rice and vegetables don’t seem so appetizing. Elder
Berman
? That can’t be right. He is our leader. The Lord’s mouthpiece. A prophet.

Tears sting my eyes.

“Alaina, honey? You okay?” Beth reaches over and puts her hand on my shoulder.

The pressure of her touch irritates one of my scabbed over cuts. I wince and lean away as she jerks her hand back.

“I’m sorry. I forgot about your…” she trails off as the first tear slips down my cheek.

I look up at Jacki. “What about the rest of them?”

She stares at me, mouth open like she wants to answer but can’t seem to find the words.

Beth clears her throat. “You can read the articles after dinner if you’d like. I’ll print them for you. And then if you have questions, we can talk.”

I rub my eyes with the backs of my hands. “Okay.” It takes me a few more blinks to stop the tears entirely.

That night I dream Elder Berman enters my room and beats me. When he finishes, I turn and look at him. Instead of the great prophet I’ve admired and revered my entire life, I see the scruffy looking man with hard, angry eyes from the articles that Beth showed me.

CHAPTER FIVE

ALAINA

I spend the next few days in my room except for meals and to use the bathroom. The whole time I pray for guidance and forgiveness, begging the Lord to reveal my purpose here. My heart won’t accept that Shiloh is closed down. It’s not possible. Even if Elder Berman were taken away, surely one of the other Elders would step up and lead us, keep things going.

Holly has tried to speak to me through the door, but I wouldn’t answer.

On the morning of the fourth day, as I’m praying for a sign, she pushes a bible under my door. It’s a small, pocket-sized book with a flawless black cover and gold lettering. It’s pretty.

“I bought this for you yesterday,” she says through the door.

I stoop down and pick it up.

He’s listening.

My purpose is clear now. He wants me to use this time on the outside as an opportunity to observe. Maybe what I learn here can help on mission trips when I return to Shiloh.

I cradle the bible to my chest. It’s not the King James Version that we use at Shiloh, but it’s something.

At lunch, I decide to end my three-day silence.

“Beth?” I say quietly.

She smiles at me.

“How do I…Can you help me find another dress?” I’ve been wearing the same two dresses with the same gray top. Despite my regular bathing, they need to be washed and I don’t have anything else that’s suitable to wear.

“I’ll do it!” Holly practically shouts. “Let’s go to the mall!”

I’ve heard of malls. Large buildings dedicated to materialism and greed. “No, thank you,” I say quickly. “Is there somewhere else to find a dress? Maybe a local seamstress I can barter with?” I’d make my own, but I am terrible at sewing. All the other girls in Shiloh would make their own dresses and skirts. I usually had to find something to trade with them if I wanted a new one. Naomi made me her personal slave for a month in exchange for a navy skirt and blouse set.

“A seamstress?” Holly laughs.

Beth shoots Holly a warning glance. “There’s a TJ Maxx down the road we could try if you’re not interested in checking out the mall.”

“Do they barter?”

Holly snorts and Beth sighs loudly. “Enough Holly.” She turns to me. “Bartering isn’t really done out here. Most people prefer money.”

I lower my head. “Oh. Never mind then.” I don’t have any money.

Beth touches my arm gently. “Honey, I’ll buy you clothes.”

Shaking my head, I look up at her. “No. It’s okay. I’ll find some other way. The Lord’s people don’t concern themselves with money or anything else that could lead to greed and materialism. Besides, we’re taught to earn things, either by trade or by labor.”

Holly scowls at me across the table.

“I insist,” Beth says. “I promised your mother I’d take good care of you. That means making sure you have nice clothes.”

My throat constricts at the mention of Mother.

“I’ll tell you what,” Beth continues. “You can barter with me, okay? Trade me your hospital gown and I’ll get you some new clothes.”

I shake my head. “That’s not a fair trade. The hospital gown doesn’t belong to me and holds no value.”

She sighs and smiles sadly. “Alaina, you’re not making this easy on me.”

“Get a job,” Holly says. “Then you’re
bartering
work for money and then you can
barter
money for clothes.”

As much as I want to avoid dealing with money at all, it seems like the only option here.

Beth scoffs. “Where will she work?”

“She can get a paper route or something.” Holly waves her hand and rolls her eyes before turning to me. “Jacki’s brothers deliver papers. I’ll talk to her for you. It’s really easy. Just walk around and throw newspapers on people’s porches.”

“No,” Beth says. “If anyone from the State found out, I’d look like some kind of monster.”

“It’s a paper route,” Holly argues. “She’s not going to work in a sweatshop or anything.”

I sigh. It appears that there is no other choice. And the way Holly explains it, bartering labor for money and money for clothes, it’s as close as I will come to doing an even trade.

“Just try it once,” Holly says to me. “If you hate it…” She shrugs.

I chew my lip, thinking things over. Is this okay? Is there any danger in laboring for sinners? What would Mother say? It’s all so confusing. I wish I could speak to her and ask for her guidance, but I can’t. It’s up to me to make this decision.

While it means being out among the sinners, it also means opportunities to observe for Shiloh.

“Okay,” I say. “I’ll try the paper route.”

The next day Holly takes me to Jacki’s neighborhood to deliver papers. I’m shocked to discover that Holly has her own vehicle; a small blue car with two doors instead of four. It takes everything in my power not to play with the rainbow colored beads that hang from the rearview mirror.

“You’re gonna sweat to death in that,” she says, turning onto a street lined with enormous houses.

I look down at the heavy navy skirt and lavender tee-shirt Holly gave me out of her own closet before glancing over at her bare legs and bare shoulders.

“You should really think about trying some shorts. Or at least capris. I can’t have you running around looking like Laura Ingalls. Everyone will think you’re crazy.” She takes a sharp left into the driveway of a large tan house that is easily twice the size of Beth and Holly’s.

“Who is Laura Ingalls?” I ask, unbuckling my seatbelt.

Holly ignores me and gets out of the car. I hurry to catch up.

The idea behind newspaper delivery is simple enough. But actually doing it is much harder. The bag is heavy and by the sixth house I understand why Holly was concerned about my clothing. I am pouring sweat.

Holly walks ahead of me, flinging a paper over someone’s fence. It hits the front door with a thud before landing neatly on their porch. I suppose that’s the way to do it. And here I’ve been walking up to each house and placing each paper gently on the stoop.

The door to the house swings open and a woman sticks her head out, looking around. She spots us.

“Y’all banging on my door?” She scowls.

Holly shakes her head. “No ma’am. Just delivering papers.”

The woman glances down at the paper at her feet before shooting us one more dirty look and closing the door. I notice that she leaves the paper on the porch.

Maybe throwing papers isn’t the best method.

Holly pulls her keys out of her back pocket. “I’m going back. It’s hot as hell and this is your job, not mine.” She turns on her heel and starts up the street toward Jacki’s house.

I sigh and watch her go.

Walking up to the next house alone, I take a moment to admire the perfection. It's huge and white with a navy blue front door. The windows have navy shutters with red, decorative stars on them. Silver urns on either side of the front steps hold bushes that have been trimmed into spheres. A three car garage boasts the letter “G” monogrammed on each door in navy blue paint.

If everything here requires money, I wonder what kind of job a person has to do in order to afford a house like this.

The front door rattles before opening wide and I'm face-to-face with a boy who appears close to my age. I suck in a breath, suddenly dizzy. He’s tall with dark hair and the most pretty blue eyes; a combination I’ve never seen. There’s a silver ring through the left side of his lower lip. For a moment, all I can do is stare. Even with the strange ring in his lip, I’ve never seen someone so attractive.

“Can I help you?” His shirt is similar to Holly’s; sleeveless and fitted to his body in a way that makes my mouth dry. He crosses his bare arms over his chest and my eyes fall on intricate images embedded in the skin on his shoulders.

Tattoos! Marks on the body that are forbidden by the Lord! I’ve only ever seen photos of tattooed people when we studied the book of Leviticus in school.

“Hello?” He stares down at me, waiting for a response and I realize I’m still just standing there, staring at the filigree pattern on his left shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, averting my eyes, holding out the newspaper.

“Where’s Devon?” He takes the paper from me.

With my eyes still on the ground, I say, “I don’t know who that is.”

“The kid who usually delivers the papers.”

I peek up at him. Devon must be Jacki’s younger brother. “He’s away for the summer.”

He nods as his eyes rake me. “Nice skirt. What is that? Wool?” His mocking tone isn’t lost on me.