Shannon let out an impatient sigh. “Look, you’ll be safe tonight. We’ll be out here.”
“Fine. Just don’t expect me to bring you coffee and doughnuts.” I didn’t know why, but Shannon brought out this snippy side of me more than anyone else. Probably because I hate being mistrusted, though maybe deep down I was only making sure I didn’t start liking him.
“You don’t need to stay here for Autumn’s sake,” Jake said dismissively. “I’m looking out for her.” His arm tightened around me as we started toward the building.
I could feel Shannon’s eyes digging into my back. I wanted to turn and stick my tongue out at him, but that would have been childish.
“You can let go of me, Jake,” I said when we were finally inside, out of Shannon’s view.
Jake looked at me blankly, and for a moment I saw something unreadable in his eyes. This wasn’t the Jake I knew. There was something . . . different about him. “Huh? Oh, yeah,” he said finally.
He released me, and the moment was over. I wasn’t sure whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to weep with frustration.
Chapter 10
I was surprised to see that the small hotel had any type of conference room, much less one that looked as if it could seat a hundred people. The room was already filled with several dozen youths, most wearing the royal blue T-shirt proclaiming Love Is the Only Thing That Matters. There were a few white shirts, too, the kind with the blue lettering both Marcie and Victoria had been more familiar with: Only Love Can Overcome Hate. I saw again the man I’d recognized from Victoria’s imprint, and I angled myself subtly in his direction with the idea of questioning him.
A few people present obviously didn’t yet belong to the commune. Some stood out—three blue-haired teens with multiple piercings, a large woman with a dour expression, an unshaven man in an ill-fitting suit, a good-looking man with a serious limp. Others could have been anyone off the street: a young woman with a toddler, four young men in jeans, two young girls who looked decidedly underage, a handsome older man with white hair, a woman wearing a blue nursing uniform. I wondered which category I fit into.
One young man was talking with a disciple, his tones bitter. Something about his old man. I wanted to slap him silly and yell that at least he had a father. But who was I to judge? Perhaps his old man beat him.
Settling into a seat, I thought of Jake, whom I’d finally convinced to leave me to nap in my apartment since Shannon and his police buddies were staking out the place. He’d left with an expression on his face that approximated a glare, and I was glad he’d gone because he wouldn’t have been happy seeing Ethan show up at my door to drive me to the hotel.
The man Victoria had known had disappeared into the crowd, so I settled into a seat to watch for him. I wasn’t left alone long. One after another of the young disciples came over to smile, ask polite questions, and then eventually drift away. They asked nothing difficult and didn’t seem to expect anything of me. Crazy as it seemed, I felt a part of this odd group. How much more inviting had it seemed to Marcie and Victoria, both of whom had been dealing with great pressure?
The young mother was glowing with the attention. A knot of women disciples had formed around her, oohing and aahing over her child. A little boy, I thought. Why is she here? From a distance, she seemed like any contented mother. Her dark blonde hair was drawn back into a casual ponytail revealing a nice facial structure. Healthy, if a little on the thin side. Her dress pants were too large, as was the turtleneck shirt she wore, the neck loose and drooping down as though the cloth were tired, and her brown walking shoes were scuffed. By contrast, the little boy wore stiff new jeans, a crisp blue and white shirt with a baseball over the left breast, and blue tennis shoes that looked completely unused—at least from this distance.
A stack of paper with a song printed on it was making the rounds. I took a copy. Apparently, we were going to sing. I didn’t recognize the words or the melody, but I didn’t have much musical talent, not like Jake, who’d recently picked up the guitar.
“Ah, you’re here.” I looked up from the paper to see Dar, still in the same brown pants and old-fashioned white shirt. There was embroidery on the cuffs, I noticed, and I wondered who had done that. This evening his hair wasn’t in a ponytail but hanging free.
“Hi,” I said, but my eyes had gone past him to his companion. I hoped my stare wasn’t too obvious.
“I’d like to introduce my new friend,” Dar said gesturing. “This is Jake.”
Jake. My Jake. The terribly good-looking, muscular mulatto man I’d kicked out of my apartment two hours ago.
“Jake, this is, uh . . . Oh, dear, I never learned your name.”
“You can call me Autumn.” I had already decided to give my real first name but to make up my last if they inquired further, apparently a decision I shared with Jake. So far last names hadn’t been encouraged.
Jake shook my hand as if we didn’t know each other at all. “Nice to meet you, Autumn.”
“You, too, Jake,” I said lightly, but I narrowed my eyes to show him I was not in the least amused with his checking up on me.
“Jake works construction,” Dar continued, “but he also has an interest in nutrition. I thought you two might have a lot in common.”
“Sure,” I said, eyeing Jake’s stained white T-shirt and holey jeans. He never wore those jeans unless he was deep cleaning the Herb Shoppe.
Jake smiled like an angel.
In the end, we weren’t allowed to sit together. As Dar began asking everyone to be seated, his disciples slid between every newcomer. Nicely done, I thought. Isolation would eliminate whispered conversations of doubt.
A girl led us in an interesting song about human responsibility to tend the earth before it was too late, and afterward, Dar began to preach. It was not a religious sermon, but he spoke with fervor about love toward all men, kindness, forgiveness, and service to nature. He was a powerful orator, even without a microphone, and the whole crowd was in his grip. Jake appeared to be listening intently along with everyone else, but it was Dar’s very skill that had me doubting his sincerity. I would have preferred to see him make a few mistakes, to stumble on his words or gaze off into the distance to collect his thoughts. Then again, he’d probably given this same spiel hundreds of times. No wonder he’d been promoted by the farm’s founder: he was mesmerizing.
Yet whether this group was a positive or negative force remained to be seen. I would reserve judgment for now.
Dar began talking about the farm where the commune members lived together in peace and unity. I wondered if my parents had explored such places. I seemed to remember one of their friends mentioning a commune they had lived in before opening the Herb Shoppe. Why had they left? Had they simply outgrown it? As a child, I’d never been interested in their lives before I had entered the picture; now I craved every bit of knowledge. Maybe that was because they were gone, or because I’d found Tawnia and realized I had a past before my birth that didn’t belong to either Winter or Summer, and they had one that didn’t include me.
I pulled my mind back to Dar, who was explaining that upon joining Harmony Farm, people were required to turn over worldly assets in exchange for fellowship with the commune. There would always be food to eat, clothes to wear, and extended family support. Love. All members worked hard for the good of everyone. There was no want or fear. The way he explained it made me want to sell my shop and donate my tiny retirement fund. To someone who had nothing to lose, I’m sure the spiel made a far larger impact.
Then it was time for the bad news. The group would be leaving for Salem the next week, so potential members would need to either join now, travel to Salem to investigate further, or wait until the commune members returned to Portland. “There’s no hurry,” Dar assured us in his fluid voice. “We should be back in a few months.”
Dar had glibly added an urgency that would encourage people to join immediately or to follow the members to the next city. I recognized it becau
se I used the same method in the store when a customer hesitated over buying an antique. I knew if they left without the piece, they often wouldn’t find the time to come back, even if they loved it, so I made sure they understood it would likely be gone, and though I might find something similar down the road, it wouldn’t be exactly the same. This always helped them decide one way or other, and usually they’d buy the piece. However, there was a huge difference between me and Dar. I had a two-week return policy in writing, whereas Dar, if Ethan was right about the group, had no such safety net for his customers.
Or did he?
The man in the ill-fitting suit raised his hand. “What if I join and then change my mind?”
Dar smiled. “You are free to leave whenever you wish. Harmony Farm does not believe in forcing anyone to do anything they don’t want to do. Unless it’s their turn to wash dishes, of course.” Everyone laughed.
So there was at least a verbal return policy, though there was no way to determine if it was upheld in practice.
“And our assets?” someone asked.
“Held for several months until you make your final decision.”
“Is there any kind of an initiation we have to go through?”
“Nothing like that, though we do hold a three-day fast when new members join, a symbolic cleansing from the outside world.”
“Nothing for three whole days?” This from one of the green-haired youths.
“Water and juices are permitted, if you find it too difficult,” Dar explained, “but you are not alone. Every able member takes the journey with you. For lack of a better word, it’s quite spiritual.”
Three whole days? An occasional fast was good for the body, but three days seemed excessive. I wondered if these fasts were held only when new members joined or also at the whim of the leaders—perhaps when people became too energetic or restless.
Dar went on about the fast, waxing poetic, if the faces around me were to be believed, but I tuned him out as I pondered what food I should smuggle inside my suitcase.
When Dar sat down, a few disciples arose and talked about how their lives had been without meaning or purpose before joining the commune and how they loved their lives now and had many friends. One young man said he hoped to marry another Harmony Farm resident and raise a dozen children within the loving arms of the society.
Okay, that was a little over the top for me, but the young mother’s round face shone with hope. When had I become such a cynic? Maybe it had something to do with the outwardly honorable man who had bombed the bridge and caused Winter’s death.
“I’m in,” called the boy who’d been complaining about his father. One of the other young men echoed his statement, but the other two looked down at their hands and said nothing. The large woman and the old man got up and left.
There were refreshments afterward, homemade muffins with juice, and to my surprise, the young mother approached me. Up close I could see an ugly bruise on her neck starting from underneath her sagging turtleneck, and the green of a nearly healed bruise covered one side of her face from cheek to jawbone. “Isn’t this wonderful?” she asked, balancing her son on her hip. “Harmony Farm is going to keep us safe.” She included me in her “us,” and I knew she’d spotted the marks Inclar had left on my neck.
“So you’re joining,” I said.
She nodded. “I met them at Christmastime last year, but it took a while to get the courage to change my life, you know? A few weeks ago, I learned they were back, and I’ve been at these meetings ever since. Being with them makes me happy and gives me hope. I’m staying here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll be going to the farm. You could come, too.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Really? Oh, good!” She bounced the toddler in her excitement. Beneath the bruises and the frightened expression, her fine-boned face was ripe with the beauty of youth. She probably wasn’t more than twenty, and I felt sorry that she felt she had no other options in her life. “I was a little nervous going alone. Well, it looks like some of those boys are going, but that’s not the same thing as a woman. You understand.”
Before I could reply, she was waving Dar over. “She wants to come with us tomorrow!”
Dar’s gaze fell on me as he approached. “Is that right?”
“You were very convincing,” I said, hoping my skepticism didn’t show.
His smile was self-deprecating. “It’s a little too smooth, I know. But it’s all true. Three years ago, I gave my life to this wonderful cause, and I’ve never regretted it a single day. Of course, you know everyone has to work hard on the farm.”
I shrugged. “I’m not afraid of work.”
“Well, we can certainly use someone to teach us about herbs. We don’t have a doctor.”
“I never go to the doctor.” This wasn’t exactly a lie because I hadn’t ever gone in for medical help except when I broke my elbow in the bridge collapse and Bret made me go to a clinic. I’d actually seen a nurse practitioner that day. “I have a few herbal remedy books I can bring.” I tried to sound as eager as the young mother without overdoing it.
“Wonderful. We would be glad to have you. But are you sure you can leave so quickly? Won’t you need more time to take care of everything for an extended, perhaps permanent absence?”
“I don’t really have any reason to wait.” Now was when I had to be careful not to show too much eagerness but only a sincere desire to be a follower. Perhaps give them a reason to believe in me, and Inclar had given me that. I touched the bruises on my neck until both their eyes were drawn to them. “I have some money in the bank that I’d like to get out. It’s not a lot, but it’s my life savings. The bank’s open tomorrow morning, so I can get it. I don’t have anything else, really, and I’d rather not go back to—” I broke off and looked down at my hands. It was hard to do because I hated playing the victim.
“Do you need some place to stay tonight?” Dar asked gently. Suddenly, I felt terrible lying to him when all he’d done was welcome me, a stranger, with open arms.
“There’s another place I can go, but I won’t have many clothes to bring.”
“You won’t need them anyway. We have a dress code at the farm, and we make most of our own clothes.”
Now this I was interested to see. I was pretty handy with a needle myself.
I felt eyes staring at me, and I looked up to see Jake across the room practically digging a hole in my face with his eyes. I could sense the concern as if he were shouting it. I looked away before Dar noticed.
The young mother squeezed my hand. “I’m so happy you’re coming.”
I didn’t even know her name. “By the way, I’m Autumn,” I said.
She squealed. “Oh, you’ve already chosen a new name! Then I want to be Summer or maybe Spring.”
I smiled. I’d always considered Tawnia the sister named Spring that my parents had never had, but it seemed fitting somehow that this young girl use the name now. “Spring,” I said. “That’s more unusual, and it suits you.”
“Well chosen,” Dar said. “Founder Gabe will have the final say, of course, because we don’t want to have too many repeats, but I can’t imagine him refusing.”
The statement chilled me. How could this Gabe have so much power over these people? Neither Spring nor Dar seemed to think that odd.
“I can’t wait to see him,” Spring said a little breathlessly.
Dar laughed, an infectious, booming sound. “You won’t have to. He’ll be here tomorrow before we leave. He’s coming in with the new supplies and to oversee the move to Salem while I take you and the others back to the farm.”
I don’t know why that relieved me, but I preferred to be in and out of the farm before its founder ever returned.
“Will he speak to us tomorrow before we leave?” Spring asked. To me, she added, “He’s incredible. I had the privilege of hearing him speak last December.”
“Since we aren’t leaving until two, we hope to have him speak.” Dar smiled at us and drif
ted away. I was glad because I was burning with questions. I’d just connected something Spring had said earlier, about being around the Harmony group at Christmastime. Had she known Victoria Fullmer? Victoria had first met the commune members at Willamette University in Salem, but she’d come home to Portland before she left with them, so it was possible she had missed her final exams to follow the commune members. She might have run into Spring at some of the meetings.
“I had a friend once,” I began, “who was attending these meetings. Victoria. I wonder if you might have—”
“Brenda!” a voice roared.
My gaze shot to the doorway, where a short, husky man stood with his fists clenched at his sides, his face red with fury. “You come over here this instant,” he commanded.
Spring had given a little gasp, and now she moaned. “Jimmy. He found me.”
The room was utterly still. I didn’t have time to look around to see what everyone else might be doing because I was too busy being horrified that Spring had taken two steps forward.
“No!” I grabbed her wrist.
She looked at me. “I’ll come back later, or in a few months if I can’t get away now.”
“You don’t have to go with him. We’re not going to let him hurt you. None of us. You just have to say no.”
“Oh.” It was a tiny sound coming with a puff of air from her small mouth.
Jimmy hadn’t held still. He was striding toward us purposefully, like a man filled with righteous indignation. He moved fast, too fast. My thoughts couldn’t catch up. In a moment, he’d grab Spring and leave. I did the only thing I could do.
I stepped in front of her.
“Out of my way!” he growled.
“She’s not going with you. Leave, or we’ll call the police.”
“She’s my wife!” This he yelled in my face. He wasn’t much taller than I was, but decidedly stockier and insane with rage. I wished I’d thought to grab Spring and run out a back door, but here we were.
“These crazies have no right messing with my family! They’re coming with me now. Brenda, let’s go!” A stream of curses followed.
Imprints Page 12
