by T. R. Graves
If Lorenzo's features belonged to anyone else, I'd find the boulder of a man one of the most handsome I've ever seen. His hair is cappuccino brown and wavy; his eyes are steel blue; his skin is perfectly bronzed; and his muscles are big and bulky. Unfortunately, they don't belong to anyone else. They are bundled up within Lorenzo's sadistic personality, and I loathe everything about him.
"What's wrong with you? You up to somethin' now that your daddy and brothers ain't around?" Lorenzo said with a sneer.
Tess patted his arm and tried too hard to be chipper when she said, "Heavens no, Lorenzo. They all have stomach viruses. They're goin' back home 'til they feel better." Tess looked back at me. "Don't forget I'll be by in the mornin', sweetie."
I nodded before going to the sink and washing my face and hands. I had to get rid of the disgusting stomach acid coating the inside of my nose and making everything reek of puke.
I heard the door shut behind Tess and assumed I was alone. When I stood up and found two faces—mine dripping wet and Lorenzo's suggestively smirking—in the mirror, I was startled.
He may be a few months younger than me, but he stands at least half a foot taller than my five-foot-nine frame.
His sneer had turned into the kind of possessive glare he always has when it's just the two of us. While he ogled me, I silently questioned what I did to make him hate me so much. Whatever it was must have been bad. I wondered if it was too late to apologize.
"You know your daddy and brothers felt pretty bad when Viv died. Insteada findin' out why they was so guilty, I decided to use their guilt to get somethin' I've always wanted," he said, raising his eyebrows dramatically. "You. I asked Owen if you can be promised to me. With a little bit of pressure, he finally agreed."
My mouth dropped open, every bit of air gushing from my lungs. My shock was the exact response Lorenzo was looking for judging by the gleam in his eyes and his malicious lopsided grin.
"That's right, Emi. I'll be the father o’ your children and the one to decide if you get sent away when you're twenty-one."
You've freakin' got to be kiddin' me, I thought.
With a desperate determination, I narrowed my eyes. "I'll kill myself first!" I whispered, and I meant every hate-filled syllable.
My current disrespect for Lorenzo would have been intolerable in Owen's eyes. If he or the boys heard how I'd just spoken to Lorenzo, I'd be picking myself up off the floor and nursing a bloody lip.
Within The Community, there are rules that have to be followed without exception. One of the most important ones is the woman's place. Women within the commune are taught from birth that they are essentially second-class citizens who are required to treat men—every single one of them—with reverence no matter what they do or say. Nothing less. Ever.
If what Lorenzo told me is true, he will be the only person who will have a say in whether or not I'm allowed to live within The Community with the babies I'll be forced to have with him. If he wants, he'll be able to send me away (to God only knows where) while the women of the commune raise my children. Soon, he'll be able to do whatever he wants to me. When that time comes, my back-talking will haunt me, but I can't help myself. I refuse to cower.
With the familiar arrogance the men within the commune are conditioned to possess, Lorenzo chuckled. "Yeah right. I've seen you. You're just like Tess. You'll do anythin' Owen tells you to do. The two of you are the good little lap dogs he's taught you to be. Actually, that's what I like about you. As soon as you're mine, you'll be my lap dog, and I have somethin' I want you to lick... long and hard."
He forced his hips against me, trapping me against the sink. He snaked his hand around my waist, pulled me closer to him, and used his free hand to cup my breast. As he squeezed it tight, I tried not to scream out in pain. I bit my tongue until it bled, refusing to give in to his taunts. Tears welled up, but I would not let him see me cry.
"Damn, I want to fuck you right now," he whispered in my ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth and giving it a little bite.
Even with an empty stomach, I wanted to throw up at the thought.
Thankfully, there was another knock on the door. Lorenzo groaned in pure irritation. "Right now, I want to fuckin' kill whoever’s on the other side of that door. Since I'm sure it's your nosey aunt, I won't."
He pushed against me one more hard time, pinched my nipple until it stung, and kissed my neck. "Think about me tonight will you, Emi?" he said hoarsely before flinging open the door. "She's all yours."
I still remember looking in the mirror and seeing that Tess had indeed returned. We stared at each other. Based on my hurt, she knew what he'd just revealed. The earlier fear I'd seen in her eyes returned, and with it, I knew Lorenzo told the truth.
Until that very minute, I'd naively assumed my father's status as the leader of the commune would give me advantages not offered to others. Today, I learned I would not be given any more privilege or respect than the other women in The Community.
I glared at Tess. All guilt and worry had vanished. "Don't you come check on me in the mornin'. Do you hear me?" I said hatefully. The phlegm in my throat kept the words from traveling any farther than Tess's ears.
Tess nodded, wiped a tear from her eye, ducked her head in shame, and walked away.
CHAPTER 2
Stranger Confessions
Emily
It took a while for the pure anger pulsing through my veins to ebb enough for me to stop shaking. When it did, I locked down my emotions and headed back out to the main room of the union hall. There, I caught a whiff of burnt oatmeal and almost got sick again. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the world around me, I couldn't. The cacophony of noises—babies crying, kids playing, and women spooning food into melamine food trays—were so invasive they felt like they were gripping my head and squeezing.
Becca, Kira, and Pattie were still standing in the exact spot I'd left them in earlier. They shifted from foot to foot while staring guiltily at their wringing hands. I'd known them all long enough to know they were terrified they were about to get caught. The only way to describe them was pitiful. Neither my friends nor I were rule breakers. Telling lies was uncharted territory. But armed with the information I'd learned from Lorenzo, I was instantly defiant and prepared to cross any line put before me.
Staring at their stark-white faces and the beads of perspiration popping out on their foreheads, I couldn't help but chastise myself for bringing them into my plan. On top of them being deathly afraid, they were all terrible liars, which meant if anyone even remotely suspected something and asked questions, they would immediately confess.
I forgot all about my concern for them when I passed Lorenzo and his suggestive wink. I refused to acknowledge him or his lewd gestures. My only goal was to get as far away from him, the union hall, and the commune as humanly possible.
At that moment, I didn't care about the ramifications or my friends' hesitations. I had an overwhelming sense of panic (palpitations, shaking, chest pain, and anxiety) that told me if I didn't get out—and away—I might actually pass out right there on the union hall's hardwood floor. Our adventure was no longer for fun. My plan to go to the lake had morphed into a matter of life and death.
"Aunt Tess says we should all go home, lock ourselves in our rooms, and stay away from everyone so no one else gets sick," I said loud enough for anyone in our vicinity to hear.
I may have been feeling rebellious, but I have no intention of getting caught. Especially since it would bring a whole house of anger down on me.
My three best friends were recently promised (one-by-one) to my brothers. As such, Becca and Brian, Kira and Joe, and Pattie and Phil are to be married as soon as the summer is over and the boys return. When that happens, these girls will no longer just be my best friends. We will also be sisters.
Certain we were about to be discovered, we escaped from the union hall as quickly as possible. No one said a word until we were far enough away that we wouldn't be overheard. Then, the diss
ension began.
"Dammit, Emily! Next time you wanna go swimmin' instead of workin', you can leave me out. I thought I was gonna be sick right next to you, but mine would've been from the stress of worryin' that Tess was gonna know we're lyin' and that she would tell the boys. I'm not doin' that again. I'd rather work," Kira said angrily.
The redheaded and blue-eyed Kira is five-foot-three and weighs less than a hundred pounds. She's so dainty that most people think she needs to be sheltered. I've known her since birth and realize she's more about protecting than being protected.
With her ranting, I understood she was defending Becca and Patti because she realized they would do anything I asked of them. She was demanding that I not drag them along just because they'd go.
Kira was right.
The leggy, blond-haired Becca, whose eyes were more violet than blue in the bright sun, said, "That's enough, Kira. We all knew what we're gettin' into this mornin'. You can go to your house and stay there, or you can come with us. We're goin' swimmin'."
Patti, the pragmatic peacemaker, patted my slumped shoulder and said, "All right everyone. Let's talk about this. Tess thinks we're sick. We don't have any chore assignments, so we’re free and clear for the entire afternoon. We might as well go swimmin'." Patti looked at me. "But, I agree with Kira, Emily. We can't do this again. It's not worth the beatin' we'll get if the boys find out."
Ashamed of myself, I nodded to Patti. By then, every ounce of excitement I had that morning over the free day had disappeared.
"I'm sorry. I never should've suggested this. There's no reason for y'all to get into trouble because of me," I said, kicking a rock toward one of the thousands of pine trees camouflaging the commune from the rest of the world. Owen had them planted tight and close within the fence, adding one more layer of protection to The Community's already heavy security.
Becca took me by the shoulders and said, "Listen. This'll be our only chance to do somethin' just the tiniest bit rebellious before the boys return and we're married women. Besides, I hear the camera's on the fritz and won't be fixed for a few weeks. All the stars have aligned for this. Now, let's go swimmin'."
With a lot less vigor than we had earlier that morning, all of us agreed to go back to our houses, throw on swimsuits, pack snacks, and grab layout blankets. Afterwards, we planned to meet up behind the cemetery and near the commune fence's only breach.
Every teenage kid in The Community knew about the hole big enough for large animals to pass through, but no one ever told the leaders because it was the only way out of (or back into) the commune without going through the check-in station.
The check-in station isn't a place anyone wants to go. With all the grown men gone, it's manned by two of the commune's biggest and burliest women, Alex and Bobbi. They take their guard responsibilities seriously and treat everyone like they're common criminals. Honestly, they're so quick on the trigger the entire commune is afraid one of them will eventually shoot and kill someone by accident.
Thirty minutes later, we had our gear and were gathered together at the back of the graveyard. We were all afraid of the boundaries (literal and figurative) we were about to cross, but we'd come too far to turn back.
I threw my bag through the fence's opening and watched the others do the same. Taking deep breaths, one at a time Becca, Patti, Kira, and I crawled through the worn fence that had been cut, folded back, and tied in a way that minimized cuts, scrapes, and scratches for the person passing through it.
Safely on the other side and exhilarated by our show of insubordination and the beginning of our adventure, we high-fived each other, snatched up our belongings, and raced toward the lake.
Becca's legs are longer than anyone else's. She beat us all, threw her bag down, and ran for the rope swing. She swung out over the lake and let go as soon as she was far enough away from the side of the cliff that she wouldn't hit anything on the way down.
When I heard the loud splash she made, I could almost imagine the cool water sucking me under and drowning my problems. I longed to join my friend.
"Oh my God! It's wonderful," Becca hollered once her head popped back to the surface.
Kira may have been the most reluctant when we were inside the fence, but she was the next one of us to grab the rope, swing out, and join Becca in the middle of the lake. While Patti and I waited for the thickly braided twine to swing back to us, we watched Becca and Kira floating on their back and daring us to jump out farther than they had.
I grabbed the rope just as it made its way back to the lake's edge. I wanted desperately to go next. As soon as I saw the same anticipation on Patti's face, I knew what I had to do.
"Here, Patti. You go," I said, passing the rope to my friend.
"Thank you, Emi," she said, grabbing it quickly and grinning like she's never before had a day of fun in her life. Given her practical nature, I realized our act of disobedience, the day of swimming, was more out of character for her than any of the rest of us.
I watch Patti as she glided out over the water two times before she finally took the plunge. When she did, she screamed like someone was murdering her before she hit the surface and made a giant wave. Patti had never been a great swimmer; therefore, Becca and Kira quickly grasped her, pulled her to the surface, and helped her reorient.
Once she was safe, we good-naturedly made fun of the way her legs and arms flew every which way when she jumped. Laughing, Patti didn't appear to mind. She just seemed to enjoy a time when she was allowed let her hair down and be a teenager.
With a grin on my face, I watched my friends—splashing and dunking each other —and realized this was the only thing that could possibly have helped me cope with the news that I was going to be Lorenzo's wife. Then, I shook my head and swore not to think another thought about the mean, hateful man I'd been promised to. Not today anyway.
I caught the rope, wrapped my legs around it, and took a running start. I didn't let go until I was at least a dozen feet past my partners in crime. The coolness of the water was as exhilarating as I suspected it would be. Every smooth stroke of my muscles as I swam up from the bottom and around the girls was cathartic.
With my first fresh breath, a thought hit me. I studied the layout of the lake and the distance from one side to the other. The lake's edge on the other side was barely visible. I wondered if I could build up my stamina enough to make it to the opposite bank. Right then and there, I swore I'd work hard until I was strong enough to do just that. No matter how long it took.
* * *
If Lorenzo is to be my husband, I'll need a solid escape route. That one is as good as any.
With that decision made, my thoughts no longer flip between the afternoon I spent with my friends and the present. I'm fully back in the here and now and contemplating a viable escape plan.
If running away is the only way for me to avoid Lorenzo's abuse, that's exactly what I intend to do. I'll never live the rest of my life with him or give him the power to decide my future. Given my family's decision to promise me to Lorenzo, they can't possibly love or respect me. At least not enough to protect me. With that in mind, I know that I alone will have to take care of myself. My destiny is for me to make. No one else. Something about that realization is empowering. And frightening.
I cannot and will not talk to Kira, Patti, or Becca about Lorenzo or my plans for leaving the commune (if that option becomes necessary). I'd just seen them divide and fight over something as simple as going for a swim. Anything else would prove to be more than the boundaries of our friendships could handle. That realization is as sad as the certainty that my family has given me away without thought or discussion. We'd all been best friends for a lifetime. My need to hide things from them spoke of the weak nature of our friendship.
Reading, I’d only vaguely heard Patti, Kira, and Becca when they left. They reminded me they had to get home or their mothers would know we'd lied earlier. I ignored them, kept reading, and waved them away. With deep sighs, the girls left m
e behind, and I was glad.
My friends understand I don't have anyone waiting for me, and no one to rush home to. Unlike me, they have mothers who'll be looking high and low for them. Mothers who are so overwhelmed with infants, toddlers, and school-aged kids that they desperately need the older girl's help—sick or not—while they drudge through chaotic nighttime rituals.
I have strong opinions that were formed years ago as I sympathetically watched Becca, Kira, and Patti bathe, feed, change, and rock their younger siblings. I decided then that I was glad I didn't have a mother if having one would instantaneously turn me into a nanny. For the millionth time in my life, I feel pangs of sympathy for my friends, and once again, I'm relieved that neither Owen nor my brothers are at home checking up on me, bossing me around, or expecting me to cook and clean.
This is the first time in my nineteen years that I'm in control of my time away from my chores. With just a few hours of freedom under my belt, I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to go back to a life of servitude where I have no voice, opinion, or independence.
Exhaling loudly, I curse myself for throwing my favorite book—the one that gave me hope that one day I'd be whisked away by my charming prince—into Black Water Lake. Without televisions, radios, or telephones, books are my only form of entertainment. They've been a way to educate myself... a way to travel beyond the patriarchal rules of the commune's leaders... a way to adventure past The Community's borders without risks or punishment.
I fret a few more minutes over what will happen if Owen hears how I'm spending today. I know better than anyone what he'll do if he finds out I've shunned my responsibilities. I'm equally sure no one will ever remember this day by the time Owen and his gang of outlaws make it back. Too much drama follows in the wake of their late summer return.
