Looking for Cassandra Jane (The Second Chances Novels) (29 page)

I waited until after supper, when I knew we could be alone for a while. I told him I had an urgent matter to discuss with him, and, as usual, he invited me to take a little stroll around the farm. And despite my lack of a warm coat and the winter chill in the air, I didn’t refuse.

“Do you realize how much time and work I spent putting up that fruit last summer?” I finally demanded once we were seated on the bench beneath the oak tree. I glared at him, not overly concerned that he’d notice my seething expression since there was only a pale sliver of moonlight to illuminate my face.

He nodded. “Yes, Rainbow, I know. And I can see that this troubles you greatly.”

“You’re right it troubles me. First of all, we may not have enough food to make it through the rest of winter now.”

“Oh, ye of little faith.”
He tilted his head upward. “Don’t you know your Father in heaven can take care of you?”

I bit my lip and thought for a moment. “Well, what about the waste then? We could’ve at least taken the canned fruit and sold it at the Farmers’ Market in town. Venus said they sell things like that there.”

“Yes, isn’t that just what Judas said when Mary anointed Jesus’ feet with her precious oil? He said they should’ve taken it and sold it for money. But the Master corrected him, didn’t he?”

I nodded, properly chastised and yet thoroughly confused. What did Judas have to do with my fruit preserves?

“Can you understand why it’s so important to submit, little one?” He ran his hand over my cheek.

“Yes,” I murmured. “I suppose you’re right. I guess I wasn’t being very submissive just now. Will you forgive me, Sky?”

He put his arm around me, then drew me close, pulling me into the warmth of his heavy wool coat. “It’s okay, little one. As long as you see the error of your ways and repent, everything will be just fine for you.”

And then we kissed for a long while, and quite passionately too, and suddenly everything seemed much better (at least, in a blurry sort of way). Sky and I met again the following night, and this was the first time he suggested we might do more than just kiss (not in so many words, but the insinuation was clear). And yet I pretended not to understand what he was talking about. (Hadn’t Sunshine called me “naive”?) And so we played like that, and I teased him for a bit, but then finally I squirmed away from his embrace and ran back into the house, giggling loudly as I went.

Why didn’t I give in to him? To this day, I still wonder. Maybe it was because I still held out for the old promise that he would make me his wife someday—maybe I actually believed that we were going to have an “official” ceremony, right there under the old oak tree, in front of God and everybody. Or maybe it was simply God watching out for me after all, and despite myself. Maybe I’ll never know all these things for absolute certain.

During that week following Christmas (while I was enjoying Sky’s “attentions” and playing coy and hard to get) a strange and unexpected visitor came to “The Promised Land.” By then we had locking security gates so that no one could just drive right in (although we didn’t have the barbed wire or guard dogs yet—these would come later). But this visitor just parked his car right out there on the road and somehow (I’m still not sure how) scaled the front fence and walked right up and knocked on the front door.

I remember hearing the commotion from where I was working in the kitchen, and with dish towel still in hand and my long gingham apron tied snugly around my waist, I came out to see what was going on. And there, to my utter amazement, stood my dear old friend Joey Divers.

Twenty-one

“J
oey!” I cried out
in delighted surprise. But then I stopped myself as I noticed how Sky was scowling darkly at our unexpected “guest.”

“Cass!” exclaimed Joey, a big smile breaking across his face. Then he turned to Sky. “I thought you said she wasn’t here.”

“I said she wasn’t
here,”
Sky waved his hand around the room. “I didn’t say she wasn’t in the kitchen.”

“Whatever,” said Joey, turning his attention back to me. “I came to see if you’d like me to take you home.”

I blinked.
“What?”

“You know, break you free, get you out of here.” He turned and grinned defiantly at all the faces now staring at him. I could see Mountain sizing him up, probably taking in his slight build, his leg brace and cane. Joey was dressed neatly, collegiate as usual, and I’m sure the brothers and sisters thought he looked like an establishment nerd. “Hey, Mitch. Hey, Cindy,” he said as he noticed River and Breeze standing over by the sofa. “How are you guys doing?”

“Their names are River and Breeze,” said Sky in a serious, almost seething, tone.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about your name-game thing.” Joey turned back to me. “What’s your name now, Cass?”

“Her name’s Rainbow,” said Sky, taking a step toward Joey. “And I’d like to ask you to leave. Maybe you didn’t notice, but we have our road gated for a reason, and you’re on private property.”

“I didn’t see a warning or a sign or anything stating that,” said Joey in a matter-of-fact voice. “However, I did see the sign that said The Promised Land,’ and I thought, hey, that sounds like an open invitation to any believer. Besides, I wasn’t planning on staying on, Sky. I just thought I’d drop by and say hey.”

“How did you find this place?” asked Sky with narrowed eyes.

“Sara told me all about it.” I sensed by the crease in Joey’s brow that Sara had told him a lot. “And she gave me directions. She’s doing just great, by the way.”

He turned and studied me again. I could tell he was curious about our strange homemade dresses and bare feet. (We never wore shoes in the house, and only wore them outside during the cold months.)

“Maybe I could just take you for a ride, Cass. Maybe we could drive into town and get a burger or something—and just chat.” He looked hopeful.

“Well, I—”

“Rainbow,” said Sky in a calm but firm tone, “you know you are free to do as you choose. But if you choose to leave us right now, even to take a little ride, then you are choosing to disobey. And as a result you separate yourself from our fellowship. And you know what that means.”

Then he stepped over and placed his arm around my shoulders and pulled me close to him. It was the first public display of affection he had shown to me (or any other sister, for that matter—besides Moonlight, that is) and I suppose in some way it felt like a small victory to me. Okay, a very mixed and messy sort of victory.

“I appreciate you coming, Joey…” I stopped, finding myself staring into his earnest and familiar brown eyes. It was funny how they looked just slightly bigger behind the lenses of his wire-rimmed glasses. And suddenly I couldn’t even remember what I’d been about to say.

“…but why don’t you just be on your way,” finished Sky in a cold tone.

“Is that what
you
want, Cass?” Joey’s eyes locked with mine.

I’m sure I must’ve looked like that old proverbial doe who was caught in the headlights just then. Should I run to the left or to the right or freeze and take whatever was hurling in my direction? Which way should I go?

Then Sky gave me a gentle squeeze and spoke in an understanding tone. “It’s okay, Rainbow. I’m sure that this visit is very upsetting to you.”

I swallowed and nodded, searching for words.

“Cass?” said Joey again, still standing his ground, although I could see that Mountain was moving in closer to him, a show of force perhaps, or maybe just getting ready to escort him out the door.

“This is my home, Joey,” I said in a small voice that didn’t even convince me.

“Then why don’t you just come out and take a quick little ride with me?”

I felt tears in my eyes then, and I seriously considered accepting his offer. I could bolt out the door with him… but when it was all said and done, where would I really go? What would I do? Joey was still in college, had a life of his own—did he think he could take care of me and continue his schooling? “Thanks anyway, Joey—” I choked on the words and looked down at my bare feet.

“Which means, ‘No thanks,’” said Sky firmly. “Now we won’t keep you any longer.”

And that’s when Mountain pushed open the door and escorted Joey outside and down the path and onto the road and past the gate and into his blue car, which finally drove away.

It only occurred to me much later that evening, as I cried silently in bed, that Joey had driven a very long way just to come and find me here. I knew he must be on his Christmas vacation, home from college for a couple weeks.

To think he had wasted his time and gasoline on a useless cross-country trip, and on me.

Twenty-two

J
ust before the New Year,
Sky made an announcement. “All sisters must be present during the birthing process,” he told us as we gathered around him one evening. “For this is God’s way of showing each one of you what you can expect when your time comes.”

All the sisters nodded in agreement, and all seemed fairly convinced that their time would indeed come. All except for me, that is. I wasn’t sure about the idea of having a baby just yet, and besides that, I knew how my own mama had died as a result of childbirth, and according to the natural childbirth book, daughters often had birth experiences similar to their mother’s. That alone was enough to put the fear of God (or was it man?) within me.

As a result of my diligent study of the natural childbirth book (I knew it both forward and backward by then) I was deemed the “official” midwife shortly before Moonlight was due to go into labor. I felt a mixture of emotions about my new responsibility. Part of me wanted to run screaming in the opposite direction, but another part was just slightly curious as to what an actual human childbirth might be like. (During my short stint at the Crowleys I had witnessed the birth of a calf and had found this experience grotesquely interesting and somewhat exhilarating.) Naturally, I knew it would be different with humans, but sometimes I almost forgot that Moonlight was human. Now this is not to suggest I wished her any ill during her birthing process, and I did try to control my thoughts when I would unexpectedly envision her dying during childbirth (this is what jealousy can do to a person).

Moonlight’s contractions started around four o’clock. “Just strong enough to interrupt my afternoon nap,” she told us nonchalantly at dinner. As usual her appetite was unaffected. Shortly after dinner her water broke and the sisters gathered in her room, ready to witness the special event. Some of us sat on the bed, others on the floor, but an air of excited anticipation filled the air. Even Breeze, although she seemed uneasy, participated in the pre-birth chatter. After only a couple hours of what seemed only mild discomfort accompanied by some general groaning and complaining, Moonlight said she thought it was time to push.

“But you haven’t been in labor long enough to start pushing yet,” I argued.

“Look, Rainbow,” she said between clenched teeth, in the midst of a strong contraction.
“I’m
the one having this baby—” She took in a breath and glared at me with fiery eyes. “And if
I
say it’s time, then it’s
time to push!”
And then she let loose with a whole string of expletives and swearwords that I hadn’t heard used in almost a year. I wondered if she’d have to get down on her knees and ask forgiveness afterwards.

“Let her push,” said Venus, as if she knew all about birthing babies.

“Fine,” I snapped. “Go ahead and push. Just don’t forget to do your breathing when you’re pushing. And don’t blame me if you get yourself all worn out before it’s really time.”

Moonlight was wearing an old flowered housedress that I’m sure Sky must’ve picked up at some thrift shop in town. When she started to push she hiked the dress up in order to grab hold of her knees, thus exposing her enormous rotund abdomen to all. I don’t know about the other sisters, but I’m sure my jaw must’ve dropped several inches when I saw that huge, white belly come out—why, it looked just like a full moon! And I suppose that’s when I began to giggle.

“Shut up!”
screamed Moonlight as her eyebrows came together and her face went from red to magenta. Then she gave another big push. Breeze punched me in the arm, and I immediately got control, reminding myself that this was serious.

Focusing my attention on the contractions, I continued to coach Moonlight, trying to get her to wait until each contraction was at its peak before she pushed. And just before nine o’clock, with Moonlight now screaming and crying and cussing like a sailor, she managed to push out a slippery, wet mass of life that proved to be an actual living baby!

I’m sure I was in shock as I caught the infant in the towel that I had ready for it, and my hands trembled as I wiped the squirming baby’s mouth and nose clean with a damp washcloth. But when the baby began to howl with what sounded like a fairly healthy set of lungs, I must admit to just totally losing it. My earlier cool was completely lost as tears poured down my cheeks. Maybe it was pure relief or emotional exhaustion or just plain amazement. I think we were all crying by then, and it seemed a natural reaction. I reckon it’s just something about the birth of a baby that gets to you like that. To this day, I still cry at a birthing, and I still believe it’s one of God’s most amazing miracles in life.