#2 White Sheets

by H. D. Gordon

  Michael didn’t know how to react to this, so he just stood there with his mouth hanging open.

  The old man rubbed a hand over his short hair and shook his head. “Shut your trap, boy, and listen,” he said, glancing around the complex to make sure they were alone. “I want to help her just as much as you do, but first I’m going to ask you a question. How we proceed depends on your answer to that question. Now, you might wanna think twice before lying, because if you do, I’ll know.” He tapped the side of his forehead with his finger, as if there was a device up there that could detect lies.

  Michael was silent for a moment, wondering where this was leading. “What’s the question?”

  Mr. Landry sighed, and his usual grimace fell over his face. “How much do you love her, Michael? he asked.

  Michael opened his mouth immediately to answer, but the old man held his hand up, cutting him off. His blue eyes were as serious as an undertaker’s. “How much, son?” he asked. “Enough to kill for her? Enough to take another person’s life, if that’s what it comes down to?”

  After a few heavy seconds of silence, Michael said he believed that he did, and apparently, the old man believed, too, because he stepped aside and gestured for Michael to enter the apartment.

  Their mutual belief would soon be put to the test.

  Chapter 36

  Ross

  “I know you don’t believe me. I knew I shouldn’t have come here. Oh, God, maybe it’s not too late to go back, maybe they haven’t noticed I’m gone yet. He’ll kill me if he knew I came here. I know he will. You don’t understand. No one understands.”

  Sara reached across the table and covered the poor girl’s shaking hand with her own, glancing around the diner to make sure Beth’s near hysteria hadn’t drawn any attention. Maybe she shouldn’t have insisted on meeting in a public place, but after the strange phone call she’d received earlier, the “warning” the young mystery man had delivered about watching her back, she’d been suspicious. The call from Beth Johnson had seem too coincidental, and Sara had anticipated a set-up, which was why she’d chosen the Silver Dollar Diner, where there was always at least a couple of police officers at the counter who’d stopped in to have a cup of coffee and a piece of the diner’s famous homemade pie.

  But now that she was sitting face-to-face with the girl, Sara could see this was no ruse. Either Beth Johnson’s acting skills were Oscar-worthy, or else she was truly terrified. Her obviously disturbed state hadn’t drawn the attention of the two night officers sitting at the booth on the opposite end of the diner yet, but if Sara didn’t get her to calm down soon, that wouldn’t be the case for long.

  Sara met Beth’s watery eyes and leaned forward. “Beth, listen to me. I’m going to do everything I can to help you, but I need you to slow down a little bit and take a breath. Can you do that?”

  Beth plucked a napkin from the silver holder at the end of the table and wiped her running nose with it. Then she swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, smearing some of her mascara onto her cheeks. “Okay,” she nodded. “Okay, yeah, I can do that.”

  Sara stared at her for a moment, waiting for her to break down again. When Beth held her composure, Sara reached into her purse and pulled out the pen and notepad she always kept there. “Okay,” she whispered. “Back up a little bit. Who do you think is going to kill you if they find out you met with me?”

  Now Beth looked at Sara as if this were a stupid question, and maybe it was, but Sara wanted her to say the words. She wanted a verbal confirmation that her suspicions were right. Beth’s eyes darted from side to side before she leaned forward and whispered, “Who do you think? Father. Father will kill me if he knows I came here.”

  Beth started to suck in air in the way Sara knew meant she was about to freak out again. “Shh,” Sara said, “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay…Just to be sure, by ‘Father’, you mean the reverend Ronald Reynolds, correct?”

  Beth’s eyes widened as if just speaking his name in such a context were blasphemy, and lightning would surely rip across the sky and strike her where she sat. When that didn’t happen, Beth finally nodded, and in a broken voice hardly a whisper, said, “Correct.”

  Sara Ross felt a surge of excitement she would feel guilty for, and with her pen poised above the notepad, said, “Okay, Beth. If you want my help, you’re going to have to tell me everything you know. Can you do that?”

  Beth Johnson said that she could.

  Chapter 37

  Joe

  “You could stay with Fae,” he said, as though the idea had just struck him, and this hadn’t been the plan all along. “Fae, you’ve got an extra bunk in your room, right? Joe could stay with you for a while, see if she likes it here enough to stay.”

  He paused and smiled at me for felt like the hundredth time during this endless night. “You never know,” he continued, “maybe you’ll decide to become part of our family. Most people who come here never leave. They find that nowhere else in the world offers a sense of peace and community like the ranch. Sounds to me like you could use some of that, Joe, after everything you’ve been through.”

  This was exactly the invitation I’d been looking for, and it was coming from Reynolds himself, which made things easier. I’d spent the last hour and a half eating food I didn’t trust and drinking drinks I didn’t trust and telling my new “family”—whom I couldn’t trust— everything about myself. Well, not really everything, of course.

  To my great relief, Kayla didn’t speak out or contradict me. In fact, she stayed pretty quiet throughout the whole thing, listening like the rest of my audience. I soon found that despite my best efforts, there would be nothing simple about the web of lies I was spinning. Obviously, my claim to just be seeking a higher power would not be enough, not when I knew Dorie was suspicious of my friendship with Kayla. I had to make the quick decision to have the lies mirror the truth, which would make them easier to remember.

  I’d asked them if they’d heard about the school shooting that had taken place at the University of Midwest Missouri State a few months back. Of course, most of them had. The reverend commented on how tragic it was and everyone nodded their agreement. I told them of how a good friend of mine, John, had been killed, which was true, should anyone check my facts—which, I had a feeling Dorie would do. I told them how I’d dropped out of school after that, which was also true, and how I’d been feeling so lost, so when I saw the yellow flyer stuck under the windshield wiper of my car, inviting me to the Temple’s services, it had seemed like a sign.

  “You’re damn right it was a sign!” the reverend said, slapping his big hand down on the table top with a thud. The people all around us, many of them just standing because all of the close enough seats were taken, cried out their agreement. “You being here was meant to be, child. You better believe it.”

  What seemed like dozens of hands patted me on the back, rubbed my shoulders, gave my arms and hands a gentle squeeze, and all around me people were mumbling their sympathies over my hardships and expressing their joy over having me here, saying how I should stay; if I just stayed, these troubles would melt away, and I better believe it, because it happened for them, the Lord had saved them…Father had saved them, and if they could be saved, I could be saved, too. The crazy thing was, it would have been nice to believe them. If only I could have believed them. It would be nice not to have to be the one doing all the saving all the time.

  The reverend’s hand covered mine, and this time, not just Dorie and his wife, Sharon, were watching, but the entire “family” was looking on. Hundreds of eyes looking at me, staring at me from all around where I sat at the table with their food and drink still digesting in my stomach. All waiting. Waiting to see if I would accept Reynolds’ invitation. It was funny how I’d come in here having made a choice to get on the “inside”, and now, though my decision hadn’t faltered, I got the sense that any choice I’d had in the matter was gone, even if I did decide I wanted to leave.

/>   I realized then that getting in had never been the problem. It was getting out that would be the real son of a lady dog.

  The reverend leaned forward, his dark eyes gleaming as that fox’s smile pulled up his lips. “What do you say, my child? Would you honor us with your presence for a while longer?”

  In the tiny moment before I jumped off the cliff, I stole a look at Kayla, and for whatever reason, she seemed to be the only person in the entire room not looking at me. There was no time to ponder this, though. Reynolds was waiting for his answer. No, Father was waiting for his answer.

  I swallowed once. “I’d luh-luh-love to. Tha-th-thank you, Father.”

  ***

  The festivities went on endlessly. People sang and danced and laughed, eating until all the food trays were empty and all the non-alcoholic drinks were gone. I’d never seen such a lively dry party. Then again, I didn’t exactly go to many parties. By the time it was getting around to midnight, I was fighting yawns as I nodded and pretended to be absorbed in what Reynolds was saying. The man loved to hear himself talk more than anyone I’d ever known.

  And the truly peculiar thing was, all of these people seemed to love to listen.

  Or, I thought, some of them could be pretending, just like I’m pretending.

  I stole small glances at all the faces around me, trying to get a sense of who seemed like they may have a chance of being lured away from the dark side, but either I was too exhausted, or they all looked too happy to get a real read on. I found my focus wandering, and a bit of guilt swirled in my gut as I wondered what Michael was doing, and how he was taking my earlier deception. I hoped—if I got out of this mess alive—he wouldn’t be too angry with me, but some part of me knew it would be better if he was. It would be better if Michael decided not to have anything to do with me.

  Because even if I got out of this, there would always be a next time, and a time after that. How could I claim to care about him and allow him to get mixed up in the game of Russian Roulette that was my life? I’d done the right thing by leaving Michael and Mr. Landry out of this. I was sure of it.

  “Joe, darling,” said the reverend, drawing me out of my thoughts. “You look more tired than the devil on a Sunday.” He turned to Kayla, who I noticed also looked sleepy, but perked up immediately when Reynolds’ attention was on her. “Kayla, why don’t you and Fae show Joe to her room. Make sure she has everything she needs.” His dark eyes flicked back to me. “Make sure she feels at home.”

  Good luck with that, I thought.

  It could have been that she was just tired, but I could swear Kayla’s shoulders slumped just a fraction as she and Fae stood from their seats at the table. I thanked him again and tried to follow suit, but Reynolds caught my hand, making me turn back. “Sleep well, Joe,” he said. “The Lord is watching over you.”

  I smiled my response while swallowing back a grimace. I wondered if I would be afforded a shower before bed, because I couldn’t image falling asleep with the scent of him still lingering around me. At the very least, I would find a sink and wash my hands and face.

  Finally, I was allowed to go; dismissed, actually, as the reverend turned his attention to another person. I tried not to show my relief as I followed Kayla and Fae through the crowd toward the exit. Of course, I had to stop several times to receive final blessings from the people. I’d been blessed more times on this night than I could hope to count, and somehow did not find myself feeling any holier. If anything, I was shaken up by the way the…group had made me feel. Other than Reynolds and maybe Dorie, they all seemed so normal, so decent. Even Reynolds’ wife, Sharon, had been kindly.

  And, so very devoted. I wondered how many of them would be truly willing to die when the time came. I wondered what it was going to be like in that room with its white walls and stained glass windows and enormous dying Jesus hanging on the cross above where he would be sitting, where he would demand death to show devotion. I wondered what those last terrifying moments would feel like, those handful of eternal seconds when the crap finally hit the fan at ultimate quantity and velocity.

  You know what it will feel like. You know exactly what it will feel like.

  Yes, I supposed I did, and yet, my abundant experience did not make me feel any less scared. If life and death situations were going to be a trend for the entirety of my life, shouldn’t they at least get easier to internalize after a while? As I exited the building at last, stepping out into the warm late-evening air, I knew the answer to that question was no. I was no hardened soldier. More plainly, I wasn’t cut out for this shit.

  And yet, here you are. Here you are again and again and again.

  “So, how long have you two known each other again?” Fae asked Kayla and me as we passed several smaller, one-story buildings that I supposed served as living quarters for the residents.

  Kayla’s answer came quick and short, not giving me a chance to answer if I’d wanted to. “Since grade school,” she said, and looked at me. “But we haven’t seen each other in a while.

  Fae was one of those people who just have really pretty smiles, and she gave me one now. “It’s cool that you already have a friend here,” she said. “Father’s right. It’s like it was meant to be.”

  I nodded, a little sick of the song and dance by this time, and looked up at the stars. They were even more visible out here than they were in Peculiar, which was a small enough town that the light pollution was minimal. Out here, the light pollution came from only the windows of some of the ranch’s buildings and the little solar lights that edged the walkways. One of my favorite things about living in the country was that on clear nights, when you looked up, so much of the universe was visible. Right now, however, the sight of all that white-flecked black hanging above me gave me a foreboding feeling, as if all the heavens were being held by rusty, ever-weakening hinges, just waiting to fall on my head.

  We reached our destination only moments later, stopping at the fourth building we came to. Fae held the door for me and I followed Kayla into a room somewhat like a lobby. There was a couch and a loveseat with a coffee table in between, on top of which varied board games were set. There was no television, no books or magazines, which didn’t surprise me. Reynolds would want to keep the outside influences as nominal as possible, and that, of course, included media.

  Two hallways led off from this little lobby-like room; one to the right and one to the left. Fae took the one on the left and I followed, aware of how close and silent Kayla was following behind me. The hallway held six different doors. Fae’s room—my room, too, it seemed, for the time being—was the first door on the right.

  “There are two communal bathrooms,” Fae told me, as she opened the door to my new living quarters and flipped on the light. “One at the ends of each hallway. You’re welcome to use either one, of course, and we just ask that everyone be considerate of others concerning how long you use the bathroom and how you leave it after you’re done. Twenty women and four children live in our building, so it can get tricky sometimes,” she offered me another pretty smile. “But we make it work, and there are a few more restrooms you’re welcome to use in the Family Building—that’s what we call the bigger building we just came from, because when we get together, that’s usually where we meet.”

  I returned her smile and nodded, thinking that sharing two bathrooms with twenty four other people had just added an unexpected ring of hell to this underworld I’d found myself in. Looking around at the room I’d be sharing with Fae and some other person I couldn’t be sure if I’d met at dinner or not, I thought this might be one of my biggest obstacles. In this close of quarters, with that many people, I couldn’t see when I would ever get a moment to myself. Then again, I supposed that might have been the point.

  The room consisted of three twin-sized beds, three dressers, and three small work desks with chairs. No pictures sat on the dressers and no posters hung on the off-white walls. Besides the empty laundry basket in the corner, that was about it. The
beds were made so tightly, the gray carpet so clean and the room itself so sparse and compact it resembled a prison cell. I smiled and nodded again upon seeing it, because I knew Dorie and Kayla were watching, but inside I was thinking that I was in over my head. It was kind of funny how the idea of facing down psychopaths didn’t deter me, but two bathrooms between twenty-four people and close quarters was making me want to tuck my tail and scamper off of this mad farm and back to my cozy little apartment in Peculiar faster than a roadrunner with its tail on fire.

  Too late for that now. You’re a long way from home, Dorothy.

  Fae gestured to the bunk against the west wall. “This is your bed, Joe, and that’s your desk and your dresser,” she said. “And that’s Marty’s bunk—you met her at dinner tonight—and this is my bunk.” She pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and fought a yawn. “I’ll go over more things tomorrow, but for now, I’ll go get you some clothes and toiletries you’ll need.”