Grounds to Believe

by Shelley Bates

  “Even if I am, I can’t risk it. I need to prove it one way or the other. In a moment, when you get past the shock of all this, I’ll show you how. I’m going to need your help to—”

  Julia pushed violently away from him and leaped to her feet. “Need my help?” she repeated. “My help to what?”

  “To investig—”

  “Do you mean to tell me you’ve been stringing me along all this time? In order to investigate—” she enunciated it bitterly “—my sister?”

  “To help—”

  “Why should I help you when all you’ve done is lie to me? You’ve been using me, haven’t you?” Her voice cracked on the last word.

  “Honey, your sister could be sick. If she is, we need to get help for her. And we need to help Ryan.” His voice rose to a shout as she jumped up and bolted down the stairs. “I want you to watch for something. If they’ve put a feeding tube in, it means she could have a fast and easy way to put the poison in his system.”

  With a squeal of denial, Julia covered her ears. He caught up to her and gripped both wrists.

  “I’m going to make you hear this whether you like it or not. I have reason to believe she might be feeding him isopropyl alcohol. Starting tonight, his condition is going to go downhill fast. When that happens, you’ll know I’m right. Got that? And—”

  Jerking her hands out of his grasp, she whirled and dashed down the stairs again, her footsteps loud in the silence. Ross leaned over the rail. “—and I’ll be here, Julia. All night. You look after my little girl and I’ll look after Ryan. Hear me?”

  The slam of the outside door was his only answer.

  Julia started awake with a gasp, the weight on her chest crushing the breath out of her. The cool dimness of dawn had brightened her room, but the sun wasn’t up yet. She glanced around, reassuring herself with the sight of her dresser, the wicker chair by the window, her books and clothes.

  Just a dream.

  Ross, Ross, why are you persecuting me? What he’d said at the hospital had shocked her into looking at reality clearly. Now that she’d lost him, she knew how deeply her feelings ran. Seeing him had been like a punch, like a gift, like being whooshed up in the air and then dumped back down by the knowledge that the only reason he was interested in her was because she was useful to him.

  What did the police call them? Finks, that was it. She’d heard Jenny Kurtz use the term once, and not in a nice way. She lay back in bed, struggling with the magnitude of her crime. In the meadow she’d told him all about their family history. On the beach she’d spilled her deepest secrets about how she really felt about the Elect. She’d betrayed her community and given him everything, and he’d used it all, ruthlessly.

  It would take her a long time to forgive him. And even longer to forgive herself.

  And in the meantime, there was Kailey.

  He hadn’t come back to the apartment by midnight, so she’d looked in on his sleeping daughter and wondered how this had happened—how she’d come to be looking after his child while he was—or said he was, anyway—looking after Ryan.

  Because, of course, he was lying. Was this some weird, horrific way to deliver a breakup speech—to give him a reason to leave?

  Regardless of what he was up to, she still had a Monday to get through, and a little girl to care for. Kailey woke with a start when Julia sat on the edge of the brass bed.

  “Good morning, sweetie,” she said gently, and brushed the girl’s hair out of her eyes.

  “Daddy?” Kailey looked past Julia, as if expecting to see her father on the threshold.

  “Daddy’s working. He’ll be back after lunch, I think, or maybe by suppertime. Do you want to come to the bookstore with me?”

  “No. I want Daddy.”

  Now what could she do? “I saw him at the hospital last night when I went to see Ryan. He says to say he loves you, and he’ll see you a bit later.”

  “Want him now.”

  Julia had not been baby-sitting small children for four years for nothing. It took an hour, but she got Kailey fed and dressed in the pitiful sweatpants and T-shirt they’d found her in, and buckled her into the back seat of her car for the short ride downtown.

  Item one on the to-do list was to spend a little time at work. Item two was to buy some clothes for Kailey. No matter what she felt about Ross, it wasn’t the child’s fault. Kailey’s need for the basics of life was greater than Julia’s hurt feelings.

  She got Kailey settled in the kids’ section with a book that made animal noises when you pressed the pictures. Then she spent a few minutes restocking shelves. Book by book, putting them in their places like a mason walling himself in, she made order out of chaos.

  But she couldn’t wall his voice out of her head. I have reason to believe she might be feeding him isopropyl alcohol…Munchausen’s syndrome by proxy…

  It was all so fantastic, so ridiculous. The words were meaningless. Probably didn’t even exist. Julia got to her feet, glanced at Kailey to make sure she was still absorbed in the play book, and went to the medical and self-help section. Pulling down the first psychology book she could find, she flipped to the back and found it. Page 247. Okay. A whole chapter. So it did exist. She read the chapter reluctantly. Just because the syndrome existed didn’t mean Madeleine had it. In fact, half the list of symptoms was wrong.

  But half could be right. More than half.

  Impossible.

  She bent to look for a book on poisons. Why was she doing this? What sick, unexplainable urge was making her look for ways to prove her sister was a criminal? Because then you can prove Ross was right, the voice in her head whispered. And if he’s right, then maybe loving him isn’t wrong.

  She was pitiful. She didn’t love him. She couldn’t love a man who lied to her.

  Keeping Your Children Safe: A Guide to Household Poisons.

  Why did Rebecca stock this stuff? This was not what she called wholesome reading. Julia pulled it off the shelf and flipped to I. Well. Rubbing alcohol. Easy to get and reasonable to have in the house. She ran a trembling finger down the list of symptoms. “Nausea, vomiting, hematemesis (what was that?), hemorrhagic gastritis, excessive sweating leading to coma.”

  Vomiting. Hemorrhagic gastritis. Did that mean bleeding in the stomach? No, that wasn’t right. Madeleine had said he had an infection in his GI tract. That wasn’t the same, was it? Ryan had been sweating, too, but that was normal if a kid had a fever. Wasn’t it?

  The front door bell tinkled and she heard Rebecca’s voice. “Hello, dear. How are you? Yes, she’s in the back.”

  Julia braced herself. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. Maybe she could grab Kailey quietly and make it outside—

  “Julia?” Derrick stopped in the doorway and brushed his hair off his forehead with a nervous hand. She blinked in surprise. She hadn’t seen him since last week in prayer meeting. She’d almost forgotten they lived in the same town.

  “Hello.” She got to her feet and smiled. “I don’t suppose you’re looking for a book.”

  “No, I was looking for you.” He crossed the room and stood awkwardly in front of her. His mouth moved, as if he were trying to choose words. Finally, he reached down and took her hand. “Julia, I’ve got to know something.”

  Here it was. Her heart began thumping in her chest and she took a deep breath to try to calm it. “What?”

  “I haven’t seen you in days. You didn’t come to the young people’s meeting, or to Gathering yesterday. You ignored me at prayer meeting. I’m sorry I was short with you last week. I want to make it up. Please tell me what I’ve done wrong.”

  She squeezed his hand, then dropped it, wrapping both arms around herself instead. Cold. What was wrong with her? “You’ve done nothing wrong. I just need some time by myself to think.”

  “Have you been with him?” She turned away and didn’t answer. “I’ve got to know,” he repeated desperately. “Because they’ve—Melchizedek—has sent me to bring you over to the Blanchards’
. They want you to answer to the Testimony of Two Men.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Julia’s breath went out of her in a rush, and she fumbled for a reading chair. “The Testimony of Two Men? You mean they’re going to Silence me?”

  She couldn’t go through with this. No one had been Silenced in Hamilton Falls since Rita Ulstad, seven years ago. She couldn’t put the Elder’s family through this shame. But she had no choice. Not if they’d sent Derrick over to get her.

  “I don’t know yet. All I know is that they’re waiting for us at the Blanchards’.” Derrick’s face twisted in pain. “Julia, if you have been with him like they’re saying, tell me now. Don’t let me find out in front of the Shepherd.”

  She might as well. She had nothing left to lose. Her future with Derrick was canceled as surely as if one of them had died. She got up and put her arms around him, the same way she would comfort one of the kids.

  “If they’re saying I was out of town with him overnight, then that’s true,” she confessed quietly into his shoulder. The quiver that ran through his body forced tears into her eyes. “But nothing else. Not that it matters. I’m sorry, Derrick. So sorry. I’ve ruined your future, too.”

  A gasp as he struggled to control his emotions was his only reply. He hugged her fiercely and cleared his throat. “Come on. They’re waiting.”

  She followed him past the cash register. Rebecca looked up with a world of sadness in her eyes. “You go on,” she said quietly. “I’ll close up shop and take our little guest home. Don’t you worry about us.”

  Bless Rebecca. She was the only person Julia could trust, like a rock in a stormy ocean.

  Owen met them at his front door, and motioned them into the living room. Four of the dining-room chairs had been set up in the middle, facing one. Julia hesitated.

  “Sit here, please, Julia.” Melchizedek held the back of the single chair. She sat. Owen, Melchizedek, her father and Derrick all took their places, unable to meet her eyes. Her heart squeezed with sorrow for Owen. He looked as though one more blow to his family would kill him. She couldn’t look at her dad. The pain in his face hurt too much.

  Melchizedek opened the Bible on his lap and cleared his throat. “The words of Jesus, from the eighth chapter of John’s gospel: ‘And yet if I judge, my judgment is true: for I am not alone, but I and the Father that sent me. It is also written in your law, that the testimony of two men is true.’” He looked up.

  Julia sat, frozen and isolated in her chair. Her hands clasped one another in a death grip, and her knees and ankle bones vibrated against each other with the force of her trembling.

  “Julia, do you know why you are called here today?”

  “No,” she whispered, and her throat closed up.

  “We understand that you have been spending more time in the company of a worldly man, unchaperoned, than could be accounted for by simple mission visits. Is this true?”

  Julia opened her mouth, but sound refused to come out.

  Melchizedek went on, “That, in fact, you did not go to a recent meeting of godly young people, but instead spent the night at an unknown location with Ross Malcolm, whom all of us know as a potential convert to the Elect.” He spoke slowly, reluctantly. “You were seen in the town of Pitchford at a worldly event. His motorcycle has been seen in Rebecca’s driveway at all hours. And lastly, you’ve been seen touching him in public places. This is going to have severely damaging consequences to his conversion if he is led to believe that your behavior is normal among us. Is it true, Julia?” His eyes begged her to say no.

  “Yes,” she got out.

  Owen bowed his head and sighed. Melchizedek flipped to a different place in his Bible.

  “Paul’s first letter to the Corinthians, chapter five: ‘But now I have written unto you not to keep company, if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard, or an extortioner; with such an one no not to eat.

  “‘For what have I to do to judge them also that are without? Do not ye judge them that are within?

  “‘But them that are without God judgeth. Therefore put away from among yourselves that wicked person.’ Julia, the words of God are clear on this point. You have admitted to ungodly behavior with this man, unbecoming to a woman of the Elect. You have worn color, signifying your unwillingness to sacrifice your human nature. You have worn men’s clothing, in direct disobedience to Scripture. Did you also commit physical acts with him?”

  The remains of those beautiful hours with Ross fell under the trampling, vengeful feet of the army of God. “Yes,” she said, her voice still soundless, the word a whisper.

  Derrick closed his eyes in pain and turned his face aside.

  “What physical acts?”

  “We kissed.”

  “Did you commit fornication with him?”

  “No.”

  “Can you prove that?”

  “No.”

  “Did you desire it?”

  “Yes.”

  His voice assumed the thunder of the law and the prophets. “I’ve called together the three men who are closest to you, who love you most. You may choose two of them. They will decide on the consequences of your actions. Do you understand?”

  How could people who loved her do this to her? Was this really Melchizedek, the man who had taught her “Chopsticks” on the piano when she was six? And what would they do to Rebecca when they found out Ross and Kailey were staying there? Cold shivered over her skin. “Yes.”

  “There are three ways that judgment will fall. In the first, you will be put away entirely. You will be asked to move out of the Quinn house, and you will not be allowed to Gather with the Elect of God anymore. If this is your judgment, Rebecca will be asked to reconsider you as an employee. I’m sure you can see how painful it would be for both of you.”

  Julia struggled for breath. “Yes.”

  “In the second, you will be Silenced. This means you will not be able to participate in a service for a period of seven years. The Elect of God will not be encouraged to speak to you, even though you will still be numbered among us.”

  She may as well be dead—or a ghost, Julia thought. Seven endless years of drifting among the people she loved, disembodied and voiceless. No wonder Rita Ulstad had cracked and abandoned the Elect forever.

  “The third judgment,” Melchizedek went on, “comes in the event of a nonunanimous vote. The two votes must be unanimous. If they are not, no punishment can be given. You may now choose the Two Men who will decide your case. Who will you have, Julia?”

  Melchizedek leaned toward her in his chair, his elbows on his knees. It was obvious he’d had a little experience at this, and expected to be one of the two. Her father had never stood up to a Shepherd in his life. He couldn’t even stand up to her mother.

  “I choose Owen and Derrick,” she said.

  Owen swallowed. Derrick turned white.

  You wanted to marry me once, Julia thought. I hope that colors your decision now. No one here is going to stand up for me. I can’t even speak for myself. No one wants to hear my reasons. No one cares about anything except the facade they show to the Outside.

  “Owen and Derrick,” Melchizedek confirmed, sitting back. “Owen, what is your decision?”

  “I—I hardly know what to say. This is all so shocking I—” He paused to collect himself. “I vote for Silence,” he said bluntly. “Although since this concerns Derrick the most, I believe his vote should have the most weight.”

  Julia fought down the urge to scream, This doesn’t concern Derrick at all. This is about me. My life. And I have no say whatever here.

  “Derrick?” Melchizedek prodded.

  Derrick looked from Melchizedek to Julia, a hurt, hunted expression in his eyes. He held her gaze. “A couple of weeks ago this group proposed I should be Deacon,” he said slowly. “Long before that, I had asked Julia to be my wife. If she is put away, neither of those things will happen. If she is Silenc
ed, they will be delayed for seven years, since we can’t live together as husband and wife under those circumstances.” He paused, his gaze never leaving Julia’s. “I vote for neither judgment, if Julia agrees here and now to marry me.”

  Julia closed her eyes as her very blood chilled, leaving her as cold as death.

  Melchizedek leaped to his feet. “That’s too great a sacrifice!” he exclaimed.

  Derrick stood as well. “I don’t believe it is. As I see it, two things will happen. The first is that no scandal will touch the Elect. The second is, no scandal will touch us personally. No one will dare to say a word about it once she’s my wife. No one in Hamilton Falls outside ourselves even needs to know. And I’m sure Rebecca will be able to see the wisdom of it.”

  Julia tried to swallow as she felt the jaws of the future closing around her. No hope—no escape—no love—

  Melchizedek regarded Derrick solemnly. “You realize what you’re saying? She’s no longer pure. She committed physical acts with another man and desired to fornicate with him.”

  Julia flinched. So did Derrick. “I realize that. But I’m willing to marry her in spite of it. If she’ll have me.”

  “Julia? What is your decision?” Melchizedek asked.

  Alarm bells sounded in her head. Time’s up, she thought from somewhere far away.

  Owen jerked upright. “That’s the phone.” He came half out of his chair. “Julia, what is your answer?”

  What was left to say? No matter what she chose, she would lose something precious—either the love of her family and friends, or the possibility of real love, not the wounded substitute Derrick offered.

  Her nightmare had come to life. The terrible weight bore down on her.

  Into the expectant silence, a tinny voice emanated from the answering machine. “Owen, this is Michael Archer. You’re not home. This is terrible. Owen, you’ve got to get down to the hospital as quickly as you can. Ryan’s condition is deteriorating. He’s in a coma. Oh, God—”