Escape from Eden (12 page)

“She got the call, you know,” Dina said.

I blinked at her. “Huh?”

“Juanita got the call. You know, to Prayer Circle.”

“When?” I asked, throat tight with an emotion I didn’t understand.

“Her mother received the envelope this morning. She goes to Circle tomorrow night.” Dina’s wide eyes gazed dreamily at Juanita and Gabriel. “After that, they’ll be free to start courting.”

Juanita sat across from me on her bunk, combing out her curls. Her hair was still wet and tiny droplets of water dribbled onto the beige blanket folded neatly at the end of the bed.

“Are you nervous?” she asked me.

I tore my gaze from her hair. I was sitting on my bunk, dressed and ready, waiting for her to walk to the Reverend’s cottage with me for Prayer Circle.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “What about you?”

She patted the ends of her hair with an eggshell-white towel. “Not as much as I thought I’d be.” The corners of her mouth hitched up. “Especially since you’re going with me. And, if you think about it, it’s really a rite of passage. Once we attend Prayer Circle, we’re no longer considered kids.”

“And we’ll be free to court,” I said in a tone weighty with accusation.

Immediately I wanted to take it back. Whatever was going to happen between her and Gabriel tomorrow was none of my business. But I couldn’t ignore the pang of disappointment.

Juanita sent me a confused look as she braided her hair into one large plait. “You okay?”

Before I could answer, the door to our cottage opened and Aliyah came in, her apron and dress splattered with what looked like tomato sauce. Her hair sparkled with tiny water droplets.

“Sorry,” she said, gingerly lifting the apron over her head. “I didn’t mean to interrupt. I spilled stuff all over me during dinner cleanup.”

“You’re not interrupting,” I said, standing. “We’re just on our way to Prayer Circle.”

Aliyah’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know you’re going, too, Mia.”

I still hadn’t told anyone about the invitation, except for Juanita. I’d wondered if Gabriel would have told her during one of their mealtime conversations, but she seemed both surprised and pleased at the news.

“Mama got the call yesterday—”

“And you didn’t tell me?” Aliyah sounded hurt.

I fought the urge to yell at her, to remind her that she’d been the one who hadn’t told me anything over the past week. All she’d done was throw me emotionless smiles when I’d asked about Circle. Instead, I apologized lamely and stood.

“Come on, Juanita. We’re going to be late.”

As I passed Aliyah, I thought I heard her whisper, “Good luck.”

Although anxiety caused my limbs to tremble, I kept walking. Why do I need luck? Luck didn’t exist in Edenton. God’s will determined the outcome of the events in our lives; nothing was a matter of mere chance. If a person rolled the dice to play a game, God caused the dice to land in a particular way to fulfill His divine plan for our lives. Did Aliyah not believe that anymore? Was she questioning things, like me?

Juanita got to her feet and followed me to the door.

“Wait!” Aliyah called.

We turned back to look at her. Conflicting emotions chased over her expression: confusion, sympathy, and finally resignation.

“Take umbrellas,” she said quietly. “It’s raining.”

* * *

Outside, steel-gray clouds hung low over Edenton and a steady, light drizzle misted the heavy air. Behind the clouds, the sun was setting, and the light was slipping quickly away. The patter of raindrops sounded against my umbrella, cocooning me with my thoughts as Juanita and I walked to the other side of Edenton, to the Reverend’s cottage. My pulse throbbed wildly in nervous anticipation.

As I passed Mama’s cottage, I saw her at the window, curtain parted in her hand. A dim light shone on her face, deepening the furrows pinching her forehead. I resisted the deep-rooted urge to wave and turned away from her, as if I’d never seen her there.

“It’s getting worse,” Juanita said through the rain. “I hope Circle is inside.”

I liked the gloomy rain. It reflected my mood. Although I was sharp with curiosity, a persistent feeling of doom hung around me. Death and secrets clung to Edenton like a fog and I needed to get out before I slowly evaporated. Tonight I would find information to escape. I had to.

We approached the gate to the part of Edenton where the Reverend lived. Grizz stood at the gate, his bulky figure blurred by the rain. Juanita took the lead and I walked cautiously behind her. Grizz’s hood was pulled up over his head and water dripped down from the brim over his face. Above him, a beam of light from the lamppost captured the falling raindrops in crystal perfection.

“Right on time,” Grizz said. “The Reverend will be pleased.”

“Are we the only ones attending Prayer Circle tonight?” Juanita asked.

“No,” he said and led us inside the gate. He tugged a walkie-talkie from beneath his raincoat and requested Freddie to take over his post.

We passed a few cottages and I recognized one as Thaddeus’s office. Inside each building, shades were drawn. But through the slats in the blinds, I could see a flickering sterile-white light.

“What’s in those buildings?” I asked Grizz, trying to glean as much information as possible, hoping it seemed more like natural curiosity.

“Offices.”

“Offices for what?”

“To keep Edenton going.”

“I thought that’s what we do every day.”

Grizz stopped and whirled, the force of it throwing rainwater off his hood. He hunched down under the rim of my umbrella and pinned me with a hard gaze. “Look, Mia. No attitude tonight. It won’t help, got it?”

Juanita shifted her umbrella to shield her face from mine.

“Got it,” I said to Grizz, keeping the anger from my voice. I resisted the urge to ask,
help what?

He turned away and trudged forward along the path again, expecting us to follow, which we did. I’d learned my lesson, though. I needed to keep my questions to a minimum and observe what I could. The path led up an incline. At the top of a hill a cottage perched, pretty and perfect. Unlike the offices we’d passed, soft warm light glowed from the windows. This cottage had a porch, dotted with rocking chairs, and a chimney from which a curling stream of smoke lifted into heavy slanting rain.

Grizz led us up the wooden steps. Moths orbited an ornate porch light by the door, a few of them dead and crusted on the exposed clear bulb. Grizz pressed a lighted button beside the door and a buzzer sounded.

The front door swung open smoothly. On the other side of the screen door, Thaddeus stood, expression hidden by the reflection on the mesh.

“Thank you for escorting them here, Grizz,” he said. “You may go to your next assignment.”

Grizz didn’t look pleased at all with Thaddeus’s dismissal, probably because Thaddeus dismissed Grizz a lot, like a servant, or a pet.

The screen door opened silently with Thaddeus’s touch and he looked us over with mild apathy. “Please come in, the Reverend will be joining us shortly.”

Inside, the lights were low and peppered throughout the room. The room we entered was large, wider than it was long, furnished with a plush blue velvet sofa and four chairs upholstered in a tiny swirling pattern, surrounding a low table. Behind the couch, a lamp with a stained-glass shade illuminated another table. Row upon row of bookshelves lined the walls, each filled with books. The books were meticulously organized, with labels attached to each of their colorful spines. All those books here, in the Reverend’s cottage, so close but not accessible. The Edenton children had been taught to read, but not encouraged to do so for any leisure activity. We had our Bibles, but no novels or encyclopedias. Even in the kitchen we only had two cookbooks, and they just listed recipes. No opinions on the outcome of the final dishes.

“Please sit,” Thaddeus said.

Juanita chose the chair closest to the couch, and I sat next to her. The chair was so comfortable, so soft, reminding me of the furniture we had at our house before coming to Edenton.

Thaddeus took a book from a table next to the couch and sat down, his long legs crossed before him. He opened the book, placed it on his lap, and began reading. To himself.

Juanita and I exchanged confused looks.

“Thaddeus,” I said.

“Yes, Mia.” His eyes did not leave the book as he turned a page.

“I thought we were attending Prayer Circle.”

“You are.”

Juanita shook her head. “Then shouldn’t we be, uh, praying?”

“If you wish to pray before we begin, that is approved by the Reverend.”

“So we haven’t begun yet,” I said, trying to keep the impatience from my voice.

Thaddeus turned another page. “We have not.”

We sat in silence, the wind outside picking up. Rain clinked against the windows. Lightning flashed and burst into the darkness huddled in the corners of the room. I tried to see what book Thaddeus was reading, but couldn’t read the hidden title. It appeared to be new, though. The paperback cover was red and shiny, the binding solid. If I’d thought about it, I’d have guessed Thaddeus would consider it frivolous to read a novel.

Juanita fidgeted in her seat, fingers twining around themselves. Above the sound of the howling wind, an unseen clock ticked nearby and counted each odd tock almost unintentionally.

“Good evening, children,” a familiar voice said.

Even though I’d heard it before, it was strange to hear his voice without amplification. The Reverend’s voice still resonated, though, as if he could throw his own echo.

Juanita and I stood, obediently.

Thaddeus dog-eared a corner of a page, folded the book closed in his large hands, and set it aside. He nodded at the Reverend, but did not stand.

If the Reverend felt disrespected by the gesture, he didn’t let on. He stood in a wide doorway, nothing but darkness behind him. His eyes were their usual, wide-set and round, but his lids blinked lazily. Thoughtfully. Like he was seeing us differently. The sight unnerved me.

The Reverend cocked his head. “Thaddeus,” he said. “We’re missing some of Flock for the Circle tonight, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” Thaddeus said. “But that will be remedied shortly.”

“Excellent.” The Reverend smiled at us then, his teeth flashing against his red beard. He stepped forward. “Girls, please sit.”

As we did, a man appeared from the shadows with a tray of three tall, thin glasses, each filled with a bubbly pink liquid and two bright-red cherries at the bottom. He leaned down and offered one to me. I plucked one from the tray; the glass felt cold and wet in my hand, beads of condensation on its surface. I thanked him and he nodded stiffly. I’d never seen him before—and it was so rare to see an unfamiliar face in Edenton. After Juanita took a glass, he placed the third one carefully on a coaster on the coffee table between us and Thaddeus on the sofa.

“Who are you?” I asked the man serving the drinks.

“My name is—”

“You may go,” Thaddeus said.

As he faded away in the shadows, Thaddeus said, “We employ a few people from San Sebastian to assist the local economy.”

“That’s very gracious of you,” I said in a low voice.

Juanita threw me a warning glance. Thankfully, Thaddeus didn’t hear me.

“So, are you girls excited about your first Prayer Circle?” the Reverend asked. He hadn’t moved from his position in the doorway.

Juanita took a sip of the drink and grinned. “Yes, sir,” she said and took a bigger gulp. She placed the half-empty glass on a coaster.

I took a small sip of the drink. It tasted of vanilla, orange, and cherry, and sweetness bubbled over my tongue. It had been so long since I’d tasted anything so vibrant, I took another sip.

The screen door banged behind us and Juanita and I turned. Gabriel stood just inside the room, Grizz on the other side of the screen. My heart leapt to my throat.

“Gabriel!” Juanita said and I grew inexplicably angry, as if she didn’t have the right to say his name.

But it was only a name, and I didn’t have any hold over Gabriel. I shouldn’t have cared.

“How did I get an invite behind the velvet rope?” Gabriel asked.

“Excuse me, child?” the Reverend said.

Thaddeus stood then. “Gabriel, it was decided that you should experience Prayer Circle as well.”

“Experience, huh?” Gabriel said. “Sounds intriguing. But why didn’t I get one of those special little envelopes delivered to my parents? Or did you think Grizz leading me here at gunpoint was more memorable for my first time?”

Thaddeus shot Grizz a dark look.

“This kid is impossible!” Grizz said. “Sometimes he needs persuading.”

“I think you need to look up what persuading means, Grizz,” Gabriel said.

“Dammit, Gabriel—” Grizz started.

“Grizz, you’re dismissed,” Thaddeus said, impatience lacing his tone. “Gabriel, sit.”

Surprisingly, Gabriel sat in the chair next to mine without question. As he did, we all heard Grizz mumbling to himself in the pattering rain as he pounded down the wooden porch steps.

Thaddeus sat back down. “Have a drink, Gabriel.” He pointed to the glass in front of Gabriel, small bubbles floating to the surface of the liquid.

Gabriel glanced at the glass, then leaned back in the chair, folding his arms. “Thanks, Thad. But pink isn’t my favorite flavor.” He turned to us. “Hey, girls,” he said to both of us, but he was only looking at me, directly in the eyes. As quick as a flutter of a moth’s wing, he flicked his gaze to the glass in front of me and met my eyes again. Almost imperceptibly, he shook his head. “Having fun so far?”

The drink. Like the cookies, was it poisoned? Why would the Reverend invite us to Prayer Circle then poison us? I clenched my teeth to keep from gagging up the small sips I’d already taken.

“We haven’t really done anything yet,” Juanita replied. Her glass was almost empty.

Before I could react, the Reverend chuckled. “You are spirited, Gabriel. Quite spirited.” He stepped back, into the darkness behind him, and said, “Children, please join me and we’ll get started.”

A nervous flutter went through my stomach. This was it. The mystery would be solved in a matter of moments. I stood, along with Gabriel and Juanita. Gabriel led the way, seemingly unafraid. Juanita followed. But I hesitated, as if my feet were stuck to the wood floor.