The Book of David

by Kate L. Mary

  Then, almost as if he could sense I was standing there, David turned toward the window. Our eyes met, and my heart started up again, beating at a pace so fast that I felt sure it would explode.

  The curtain slipped through my fingers, and I stumbled back. I wanted to run, but I knew if I did, they’d get me for sure. There was nothing I could do but wait, and the realization sucked the energy out of me, making it impossible to stand. So I took a seat on the bed and stared at the door, defeated, knowing Father David would be arriving in minutes, and then I would be dragged back. I’d reached the end of my freedom.

  Only that didn’t happen, and a few minutes later when the sound of car doors slamming made me jump. I strained to listen, dying to know what was going on but unable to stand. An engine started, and tires crunched down the sandy drive, quickly fading away. They left, but why?

  A few minutes later, there was a soft rap on the door. I didn’t open it, too terrified to move. Annabel’s voice penetrated the door, telling me I was safe, that the men had left, and foolishly, I allowed myself to relax. I convinced myself Father David wasn’t going to get me after all. That David hadn’t really seen me.

  When I finally forced myself to open the door, Abe and Annabel took me to the living room. The television was off and the shades were drawn, the room dark and silent, and it sent a chill down my spine. Annabel sat me on the couch while Abe took the chair. He never sat too close, and he was always careful not to touch me, like he sensed I needed space from him, and I was grateful for that. Even though he was kind and I trusted him completely, I didn’t want a man to touch me ever again, and he seemed to understand without having to be told.

  “Willow, those men were looking for you,” Abe said slowly. “The leader said you were his daughter and you were kidnapped. He said he’s been searching for you. He asked if we’d seen you.”

  “What did you tell him?” I asked quietly.

  My hand trembled in Annabel’s.

  “Abe told him we hadn’t seen any girls,” Annabel said, and she held on to me tighter.

  Her reassurance eased some of the worry inside me, but not all of it.

  “I don’t think they believed me, Willow,” Abe said gently.

  I never thought they did, but my stomach still twisted.

  Abe leaned forward. “I think they’ll try to come back.”

  The room swirled around me. David would never let me go, and I knew running was my only option. Staying at the ranch would ensure I got sent back to the Children, and I couldn’t let that happen. Couldn’t face a life with David.

  “We’re going to take you to Abilene tomorrow morning,” Annabel said. “Child Protective Services is moving too slowly. We’re going to take matters into our own hands.”

  “Thank you,” I said with tears in my eyes. The news did nothing to calm my nerves or the swirling in my stomach.

  My body was moist with sweat when I was jolted awake. It was a little after two o’clock in the morning, but I was almost certain a door had just slammed. Footsteps creaked across the wood floor outside my room, and my pulse quickened. They got closer, and when the doorknob rattled, I had to clamp my hand over my mouth to stop from screaming.

  I couldn’t move.

  The door was locked, and I tried to tell myself they couldn’t get in, but I didn’t really know that for sure. I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed they would go away. Thankfully, someone answered that prayer, and after a few failed attempts, the doorknob stopped moving, and the person moved away from the door.

  I had to get out. There wasn’t much time.

  Once the footsteps had faded, I crawled out of bed and pulled my shoes on before tiptoeing across the room. When I peered out the window, I spotted the same truck parked in front of the house, but there was no one in sight.

  They must have all come inside the house.

  Bushes lined the front of the house, and I knew if I could just make it out the window, I’d be able to hide behind them. I took a deep breath and got to work on the window, slowly pulling it up. It moved an inch, letting out a groan, and I paused.

  Please, I silently begged, please let me get this window up without anyone hearing me.

  When I pulled on the window again, it didn’t make a sound.

  Once it was open, I held my breath and waited a few minutes, listening for any sounds, but other than the chirp of a few crickets and cattle in the distance, the night was totally silent. I hoisted myself through the open window, landing on my butt in the dirt right behind the bushes. The fall sent a jolt of pain straight through me, and I had to take a few seconds to gather myself, but when I did, I peeked through the bushes and took a good look around.

  There was no one in sight.

  I was going to make it.

  I stayed on my hands and knees, crawling to the side of the house under the cover of the bushes where I peered around the corner. Once again, no one was in sight.

  Taking a deep breath to ready myself, I sprinted from my hiding place and headed for the tractor parked about thirty feet from the house. When I reached it, I ducked behind one of the oversized tires. The thing was big enough to easily hide behind, and it also gave me a chance to take a good look around while I caught my breath.

  The house was completely dark with not even a single light shining in the windows. There was no movement either inside or out that I could see, but I knew the men were still looking for me because the truck was still parked in front of the house.

  I didn’t have much time to get away.

  I took one final look around before running for the small tool shed just past the house. It took me several tense seconds to get the doorknob to cooperate because my fingers were damp with sweat and kept slipping, but when I finally made it inside, I pulled the door shut behind me. Instantly, I was plunged into darkness.

  I was gasping for breath, and while I waited for my eyes to adjust, I worked on calming my breathing. If I was going to get out of here, I had to stay calm. I couldn’t lose control.

  Once my eyes had adjusted enough that I was sure I’d be able to move without bumping into things, I felt around in the darkness until my fingers brushed the object I was searching for. Annabel’s pruning shears. It was the closest thing to a weapon I’d be able to find.

  With the sharp object clutched in my hand, I pushed the door open a crack and stuck my head out to make sure the coast was still clear.

  No one was in sight, but almost every room in the house was now lit up.

  I had to move.

  My legs were shaking when I took off toward the barn, and more than once I had to bite back a scream when I thought I heard footsteps behind me. Every time I looked over my shoulder, though, I found the yard empty.

  I kept running, praying the entire time that no one would spot me, and when I finally reached the barn, I threw the door open and dashed inside, slamming it behind me.

  Hiding in the barn was only a temporary solution, and I knew it, but I needed a moment to calm myself down and figure out my next move. I had to get as far away from the ranch as possible, but that meant once again running through the night, and I wasn’t even sure where that would take me. If anywhere. The ranch was in the middle of nowhere.

  Still, it was my only option, so after a couple minutes of rest, I headed through the barn to the back door, hoping to make my escape.

  I didn’t hear the footsteps until it was too late. When a hand grabbed my shoulder, I screamed and spun around, swinging the pruning shears at my unseen assailant. I missed him but swung again. He threw his hands up in a defensive move and ended up knocking me to the ground. I was down, lying on my back in the barn, with David standing over me. It made my body shake with fear. Immobilized me.

  He knelt at my side and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand, and I felt like an earthquake was moving through my body. “Why did you run away, Willow?”

  Tears stung my eyes, blurring his face. The pruning shears in my hand were useless, because I was frozen in ter
ror.

  “David, please…” It was all I could get out.

  “Don’t cry,” he said. “I’ll take care of you now.”

  When he pulled me to my feet, I could do nothing to resist. His lips were on mine in a second, his arms around me, trapping me. We were alone, and David wouldn’t stop kissing me. Wouldn’t stop touching me. I wanted to fight him off, but I still couldn’t make my body obey. The only thing I could do was close my eyes.

  Chapter 9

  Puddles of rainwater slosh under my shoes as I follow my mother and George down the street, heading to the main building for Sunday service. I keep my head bowed, but it does little to block the rain from pummeling me in the face. Yesterday, I barely made it home before the clouds opened up, dropping buckets of water on Mt. David. It hasn’t let up since then, and I can’t help wondering if God is trying to flood this community and wipe it from the face of the earth.

  The air is cold and violent, but no matter how much I shiver, I can’t find the sour mood that’s been following for the past three years. Today my chest is lighter than it’s ever been. I can’t wait to get to church and see Jared even though talking to him will be impossible. Just the idea of being near him has lifted my spirits.

  It’s an odd sensation after all these years.

  I search the crowd for him when we step into the main building. The men of the community are gathered in the foyer talking, and George stops to join them while my mother and I continue into the worship hall—it’s okay for the men to stand around talking idly, but not the women—but Jared is nowhere in sight.

  My mother and I file into the worship hall with the other women, bowing our heads in submission like dutiful Daughters of David. Today more than ever, I have to work hard to keep my head down, because really, I’m searching for Jared.

  The worship hall is the largest part of the main building, with a ceiling as high as the second and third floors. Under my feet, the red carpet is thick and lush, even through my shoes. Rows of wooden chairs face a small platform, and above it a massive, stained-glass window is on full display. Surrounded by blue and red glass is a man who appears to be floating in the clouds. His arms are extended, almost like he’s welcoming people in. He’s wearing a long white robe with a red sash across his chest, and his smile is warm and inviting.

  After all these years here, I still haven’t decided if he’s supposed to be God or Father David, and the only real indication that he isn’t our leader is his beard—since Father David is clean shaven. The window is beautiful, and the only work of art in the otherwise bare community, but its presence has always bothered me. With it right in front us like this, I can’t help feeling like we’re expected to worship it, and despite the beard on the man’s face, I’m pretty sure the image represents Father David.

  My gaze sweeps across the room as I walk, but I’m halfway down the aisle that separates the two sides of the worship hall before I finally spot Jared. His blond hair shines like gold under the lights, and just seeing the back of his head makes my heart race faster.

  If only he’d look my way.

  My feet step on my mother’s heels, and I stumble a little. She barely reacts as she slips into a row to take her seat, and I follow, my focus split between her and the blond head on the other side of the room. I manage to get the last seat in the row, right on the aisle, which happens to give me a perfect view of Jared. My eyes stay glued to the back of his head as I silently will him to notice me.

  When he finally turns, the pounding of my heart could rival the beat of horses’ hooves. Jared cranes his neck and scans the left side of the room, and the thump in my chest grows faster.

  He’s looking for me. He has to be.

  A part of me doesn’t truly believe it’s true until his gaze locks with mine and his eyes light up. Something in my stomach flutters, and I have to sit on my hands so I don’t wave. I want to jump to my feet and run to him, to be close to him, and the urge only deepens when he gives me a crooked grin.

  My own lips twitch, but no matter how much I want to, I know that I can’t return the smile.

  I blink, and Jared’s grin is gone, almost like he suddenly realized how inappropriate it is.

  He turns back to face the front, but my gaze stays locked on the back of his head. Even as the men begin to file in, filling the seats on the opposite side of the room, I can’t look away from him. Father David takes his place at the front and starts talking, but his words are little more than a buzz in my ears as I watch Jared from afar. Every move he makes sends a pang echoing through my chest. Every moment that passes without him looking at me only makes it more intense.

  When the message is over, Father David dismisses us to the dining hall, and the men stand. Around me, the women barely move. We aren’t allowed to leave until after all the men are gone.

  The crowd swallows Jared up as the men begin to file out. I search the sea of faces, knowing I should keep my head down but finding it impossible. When I finally spot him, my heart skips like a child who doesn’t have a care in the world, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop a smile from curling up my lips. Jared’s eyes twinkle when they meet mine, and he gives me another crooked grin, causing a shiver to run down my spine that’s confusing and amazing at the same time.

  When he draws near, he reaches out, and I inhale sharply. There’s a part of me that wants to hide from his touch, but for some reason, I hold my ground. Just as he passes, his fingers brush my shoulder. The touch is a gentle as a feather, but has more impact than a bolt of lightning.

  I should be scared.

  I should cower under any man’s touch, no matter how small.

  But I don’t.

  Instead, I find myself wanting more. More of Jared, and more of his touch. More of this feeling.

  My mother and I stop in the back of the dining hall when we arrive, waiting until all the men have gotten their food.

  The room takes up almost the entire second floor and is lined with rectangular tables. At the front, furthest from where we stand, sits the kitchen and a small serving area where the plates, silverware, and food are laid out. The scent of roasted meat and vegetables fills the space, and my stomach growls. I should be used to waiting by now, but being a second-class citizen never gets easier. At least for me.

  Standing at my mother’s side is more tense than usual. We haven’t spoken since I stormed out of the house yesterday, and I have no idea if her silence means she’s upset, or if she’s just being her usual unresponsive self. It’s impossible to know unless I ask, and right now I’m still too hurt and angry to even try to talk to her, so I cling to the silence surrounding us like it will keep me safe.

  When the last man has finished getting his food, the women are finally allowed to go through the line. My mother and I hold onto our muteness as we follow the others, piling our plates with food before joining George at the table. He’s already finished eating, so while I take a seat, my mother clears my stepfather’s plate, leaving her own food to get cold.

  I try to ignore her abandoned plate, but I can’t. Not with my mother looking as shattered and broken as she does. For as long as I can remember, her brokenness has controlled my life, and I’m tired of it. Tired of giving away every piece of myself to keep her safe and getting nothing in return. There’s so little of me left, and deep down I know there will come a point when I’m going to have to make a choice. Her or me. Just thinking about it turns every inch of me hard, inside and out. I can’t even begin to figure out how I’ll make that decision, or how I’ll live with it.

  I turn my focus to my food, trying to push thoughts of my mother out of my head. Until now, the day was almost pleasant, but I should know by now that happiness is something never meant to exist inside these walls. The previously delicious-smelling food turns to dust in my mouth, destroyed by the realization that my life will never be my own.

  I’m chewing when someone approaches our table, just outside my line of vision. George talks to whoever it is, and the sou
nd of my stepfather’s voice pricks at my insides, making my bitterness sharper than ever.

  I lift my head, curious who he’s talking to despite myself, and find Jared’s gray eyes on me. Studying me. It’s impossible not to react to his presence, and within seconds, the fluttering has returned to my stomach. I can’t force myself to look away from him or take another bite of my food. He has me trapped, but it’s nothing like those moments with David where I freeze. Those are all about terror, but this… It’s something else. Something soft and pleasant. Something amazing.

  An older version of Jared stands at his side. His father, no doubt. He’s shorter, but just as broad, and beneath the peppering of gray, his hair is still blond. It’s his eyes that really stand out, though. Like his son’s, they are just as open and friendly.

  I recognize him from his many visits to the hospital, but until now I hadn’t made the connection. Even if I hadn’t been present when Dr. Jones treated Jared’s father, the pale, sickly pallor of his skin would’ve given him away. I’ve seen enough death at the hospital to know he doesn’t have long. At least not inside the commune.

  He and George discuss some problem with one of the trucks while Jared stands silently at his father’s side, glancing my way every couple of seconds. When my mother comes back, his gaze sweeps over her, and his expression changes. He glances at me again before focusing on George.

  When Jared’s eyes flash, the fury is so vivid I find it impossible not to squirm. He curls his hands into fists like he’s about to punch George, and while I have no issue with the idea of seeing my stepfather sprawled out on the floor, it would set off a chain of events that would only lead to yet another punishment for me. And maybe even for Jared.

  I give a tiny shake of my head, hoping to deter Jared from doing anything too stupid, but his glare only gets hotter. An ache starts in my stomach that makes it impossible to eat another bite, but I pretend to be focused on my plate as I silently beg Jared to calm down. He needs to walk away before our friendship becomes obvious to everyone around us, to take a walk and cool off. But he doesn’t, and the longer he stands there glaring at my stepfather, the more I squirm until I can’t sit still any longer.