The Reformation of Marli Meade

by Tracy Hewitt Meyer

  Could I return to that life? Become a prisoner again?

  No, I wouldn’t return to the mountain. Robert said I could stay with him and that’s where I would remain for now. I would make this bedroom my own, filling it with the clothes from Heather and maybe with a few new items. I would get a part-time job to help pay for my own things.

  I stood and turned in a circle, trying to feel my mother’s presence. What would she have felt in this nursery? Hope? Optimism?

  Fear? Terror lingering nearby…always nearby?

  I prayed she had no idea what life had in store for her, though something told me she was all too aware, and that seemed like the greatest tragedy of all—to feel love and hope only to have it yanked away from her grasping fingers.

  WHAT CAN I do for Polly? I need to find her.” Sitting at a small table in Robert’s kitchen, I had the little courtyard at my vision’s disposal, but I couldn’t help but think about my friend, and when I wasn’t thinking about her, I was thinking about my mom.

  Doomed women.

  Was I one of them?

  “The sheriff wants you to come to the station tomorrow and you can ask him then. But, Marli?”

  “Hmmm?”

  “Be prepared. She was married legally and there may be nothing you can do about it.”

  “She didn’t want to get married.” I slammed my hands on the table. “It might be legal but she didn’t want this. I can’t believe…they made her do that.” I stared at the untouched spaghetti on my plate.

  I had been in Robert’s home for almost two hours. I had unpacked Heather’s clothes and put them in the dresser. Robert had blown up an air mattress, and it lay in the middle of the floor with fresh sheets and a blanket that looked scratchier than soft.

  Tomorrow he said we would get rid of the nursery furniture, and I could pick out anything new I wanted. I never asked why the furniture was still there even though it had been sixteen years since my mother’s death and my birth. In the midst of everything else, it seemed inconsequential.

  To think, all this time I thought my push to being born was what had killed her. I never would’ve dreamed it was my own father. Each time I thought about it the world turned a puke green—ugly, noxious, and poisonous—so I tried not to, filing it away in a drawer marked sometime in the future when you’re stronger. Funny how full that drawer was getting.

  “I can believe it, to be honest with you.” Robert pushed at his own noodles.

  “Really? After all this time when things have been calm up there, you’re not surprised they would return to doing something like this?”

  “They aren’t returning to anything, Marli. They never stopped. They just got caught.”

  “What do you mean?” I pushed the plate to the side. There was no hope of eating anyway.

  “Do you remember Rebekah Henrik?”

  Rebekah Henrik…Rebekah Henrik…I tapped my temple, trying to think. “Vaguely.”

  “She didn’t go to live with her grandparents in Kentucky. She was married off when she was fifteen.”

  “What? That was only a few years ago!”

  “I know. And before that there was Daniel Rivers.”

  “What happened to him?” I held my breath, afraid of the answer to come.

  “There was a secret punishing for him.”

  “A secret punishing?”

  “Yes. He got caught stealing money from the church’s collection box. They burned both his hands, palm-side. A week after the ceremony he hung himself from a tree.”

  “Oh.”

  “The way these churches survive is by being secretive, and exacting punishment in a swift and merciless way, so when punishings or young marriages happen, the general public doesn’t know about them. Obviously, the backlash would be significant. There have been instances over recent years, though, where locals and authorities have heard things, quiet confessions, cries for help, things like that, and there have been investigations. The church has tried to work on its public personae—what minute amount there is of it—just to keep everything operating as it is.”

  “Which is why the Stones would foster someone like Nate. I thought it was strange he ended up there.” But thank goodness he did. I may never have met him and the thought was too unwelcome to bear.

  “I don’t know about his situation, but I’m sure that is why, especially if he had no previous contact with the church.”

  “But this girl at school, Heather. She knows what goes on up there, and somehow her friend knew that I was engaged. Word is getting out somehow.”

  Robert’s shoulders folded as if the weight of this conversation was becoming too heavy and burdensome. “There must be an informant somewhere.”

  “Is it you?”

  “Other than me. I’ve worked with Wilhelm for years and I only go to him with information. It is up to him what he does with it.”

  “So these punishings, and this…general treatment of people is normal for this church? With the teachings trickling down from Tennessee?” I fought to wrap my mind around this but was failing miserably. “But they’ve gotten away with it because they manage to keep everything a secret?”

  “Yes. As it is, you wouldn’t even be able to find most of the churches even if you tried. They aren’t listed in directories, phone books, nothing. People are born into them with few outsiders ever gaining admittance. Members are taught that they’re descended from the serpent, with both great evil and chance for great redemption within their blood.”

  “I get that. I mean, I’ve been taught this story since I was born. But why? Why is the church so afraid and so…punitive?”

  “Because part of being a descendent of the serpent is being a sinner. Descendants are always trying to make up for the serpent’s tempting of Eve with the apple.”

  “Wow. I just…I just don’t even know what to say to this. It seems too…surreal.” I flattened the spaghetti with the back of my fork until it looked like a bloody, wormy pancake. I knew the church’s teachings better than I knew anything else in the entire world. But it was still unsettling and confusing and all-around shattering to hear these things come out of Robert’s mouth.

  “Well, I have to ask,” I continued, “even though I’m not sure I can handle the answer. What about Mary? Was she married off or…something worse?”

  “I’m not sure what happened to her. There has been one other instance that I know of where an unmarried girl got pregnant. That was about seven years ago, and they sent her to a small camp-type place hidden deep in the Tennessee mountains where girls like her go.”

  I stared out the back window. The house that backed up to Robert’s had every light on, making it burn in the dark night.

  “But Polly wouldn’t be there.”

  “No.”

  Abort. Abort. Topic too painful to handle right now. File it away in the need-to-be-stronger drawer.

  “So Sheriff Wilton left the church after…that day?”

  Robert twirled the spaghetti around his fork then let it fall to the plate. “After your mother’s punishing, he left, but he knew too much. Charles and Edna tried to lure him back and when that didn’t work, they threatened him, brought in the leaders from the main church. Wilton knew the deep roots of this church and knew he could never fully escape it. But he also couldn’t condone what was going on. If he could make a difference in this church and this town, then he would. That’s when the agreement was created. He would remain sheriff and leave the church alone, but they had to abide by the preset terms. No punishings. No markings.

  “Those didn’t stop, though. They just grew more secret. Those ceremonies had always been for the entire congregation. They would celebrate together and suffer together. And there was nothing more humiliating than being the one punished in front of all the people you know. But that stopped and the ceremonies became hidden. Deeply hidden. I didn’t even know about them even though I lived right there.”

  “How do you know about them now?”

  “Detective Ambr
ose was brought on to investigate the church. She used to work at the main church in Tennessee.”

  “I thought she was from Cherrydale.”

  “Is that what she said?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, you know so much already I might as well tell you all I know. She grew up in that church, even working in the office when she was a teenager. Her father was the secretary to the Headmaster, whose name is Preacher Killigrew. She escaped when a marriage was arranged with a man twice her age, and she is how we know about these punishings and that they never stopped. They keep meticulous records. Whenever Charles went to these meetings, information like this was gathered for the main church. That’s what makes it so hard for congregants to escape. They are all witnesses to these types of events. If they threaten to leave, the church holds this evidence over them, leaving most people terrified and compliant.”

  “But Sheriff Wilton left?”

  “Well, yes. He left but they made the agreement that he would leave them alone if they left him alone.”

  “As long as they stopped the punishings.”

  “Right.”

  “But you also said that he could never fully escape.”

  “No, he can’t. He would be arrested for…things he’d done.”

  “Why? What did he do?”

  Robert tumbled into one of his long silences before answering. “He was the snake handler.”

  “The snake handler?” At first I thought he was the one who cared for and kept the snakes. Then, after watching the devastation roll over Robert’s features, I realized what he meant. “He was the one who made the snake agitated and starved before my father put it on my mother.”

  Robert paled at my blunt words, a slight greenish tint hovering just below the surface of his skin. He nodded.

  “Do you mean to tell me the sheriff was in charge of the snake used to kill my mother? How could you forgive him?” I spoke through gritted teeth.

  This is too much. I’m too young. Someone else needs to know this information, not me.

  But yet, here I was, clutching the table until my fingers turned white, my heart thumping with such power I knew it would surely cease to pump at all. And all of this information, detail for detail, hung in the air, hovering over us like a swarming mass of killer mosquitoes. There was no escape. No reprieve. No nothing but the simple, and devastating, act of sitting and listening. I tried to pry my fingers off the table but I couldn’t.

  Robert released a breath that shook and shuddered. “He was the one who came to get me that day. He hadn’t realized the punishing was for Sarah when he was preparing the snake. When he realized, he ran off the mountain, but it was too late.”

  “Why didn’t he try to stop it?” How much more of this story could I take?

  “You still don’t understand the hold the church has. He would have been the one punished first, and in this case he would’ve died and he knew that. Then they would have still punished Sarah. He thought if he ran off the mountain to get help, he might actually be able to save her. The hold is so deep, it’s almost impossible to escape.”

  “Does that mean I won’t either?” I jumped out of the chair, sending it crashing to the floor behind me. “Would they let me go? Just like that?”

  Or will they hunt me down and make me return? Return to a punishing…a marking? Worse?

  Robert reached toward me. “Marli, I won’t let that happen.”

  “But…how could you stop them?” My voice rose with each word.

  “I will. I promise.”

  “They could kidnap me or…or something! Hurl snakes at me when I walk down the sidewalk!”

  How could I have thought I would miss the church and my family? Now I wanted nothing more than to escape and never, ever return.

  Robert sighed and went to the window to look out over the courtyard. It needed to be weeded and cleaned, with one whole section of the bricks covered in a greenish sheen. Or maybe it was the glare from the neighbor’s lights.

  “We have to be careful. That is true.”

  “Should I just leave? Go somewhere else?” My mind reeled.

  “That might be an option. Or, they will leave you alone.”

  “But why would they leave me alone? What do they have to gain?”

  “They’re getting too much attention. The main church won’t like that and neither will Charles and Edna. They know Detective Ambrose is here and with her came a lot of information. Sheriff Wilton knows the punishings didn’t stop. I know and now you do too. Nate also knows. We’re all witnesses. They don’t want to risk drawing more attention to the church. Then they would have to change their archaic practices and they don’t want to do that.”

  “A girl from school knows, too.”

  “A girl from the mountain?”

  “No. A girl who gave me these clothes. The last person in the world you would think knows about what goes on up there.”

  “The more people know the safer you are.”

  “Oh.” I wasn’t convinced. I was Charles’s daughter and now I was with his brother. Robert had already stolen Sarah. Would Charles let him “steal” me too?

  “If we need to run, we will. I’ll get you out of here. We need to be careful but I don’t think the risk is that great.”

  “What about Nate?” I moved to Robert’s side. “Will they hurt him?”

  Robert’s jaw tightened.

  “Then I have to run. Me and him. I won’t let anything happen to him. He’s been through enough. We’ll go find Polly.”

  Robert rubbed his face. When he looked at me again, his eyes were shadowed, exhaustion coloring his skin a bruised brown.

  “Let’s eat. I’ll heat the spaghetti up. You’re safe here tonight. Nate will be safe inside the jail. What you need now is food and rest.”

  What I needed was a sense of safety, and I certainly did not have that. Would I ever?

  EXHAUSTION ENSURED I didn’t wake up the next morning until bright sunlight streamed through the window. After a quick shower, I slipped into jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with the glittery image of a unicorn—not babyish like it sounded, but cool, like a psychedelic mystical animal. I slipped my feet into the flats. When I walked downstairs, Robert was standing at the stove, turning bacon with a pair of silver tongs.

  I stopped in the doorway. “Hi.”

  “Hey. Come on in. I have orange juice on the table and breakfast is almost ready. You must be hungry.” He cleared his throat. “How did you sleep?”

  “Good.” I reached for the juice, relishing the sweet cold liquid on my throat. “Better than I expected, actually.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. I’m sure you needed the rest. Whenever you’re ready we can head to the station.”

  I nodded, sliding into a seat at the far end of the table. Robert laid a plate in front of me.

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” He stood there a moment, staring down at the plate.

  I glanced up.

  “I’m sure this is a scary time. And I’m not sure what I can do to make it better, but you can stay here as long as you like.” He coughed as if the words were scratchy as they left the back of his throat. “I mean that. This can be your home. Even when you go to college, this can be the place you come back to.”

  Unsure of what to say, I offered a soft Thank you and lifted a piece of bacon. Though it smelled so good it made my mouth water, the taste was lifeless and flat.

  Robert returned to the stove and started to clean up. If he had already eaten, he didn’t say, and the next fifteen minutes passed in silence. Finally, unable to tolerate another bite, I took my plate to the sink. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

  He took a sip of coffee then rinsed out the cup. “There’s one stop we need to make, if that’s okay.”

  “Sure.” Running errands was another normal pastime I had never partaken in, and I wasn’t eager to get started today. But I didn’t want to come across as difficult or hurt his feelings, so I put a little
smile on my face that I hoped was more pleasant than it felt.

  “They’ve released Nate but he’s with his lawyer looking for apartments and jobs. We’re supposed to meet him at the station at two so we have plenty of time.”

  “Okay. That sounds good.” I shifted on my feet.

  When he walked outside, I followed and slid into the truck. He headed toward Main Street and came to a stop in the middle of a string of small businesses. There was a post office, bank, antique shop, and hair salon all sitting in a row.

  Robert counted change from his pocket and cleared his throat. “I, um, made you an appointment to get your hair fixed.”

  I stared at him, not quite comprehending.

  “Turn it back to its original color—if you want. I think they can do that...get the black out. And they’ll cut it for you, too.” He waved a hand at me, like he was desperate for me to understand now and save him the speaking of more words. “Even it up across the bottom,” he rushed to say.

  I tugged at the end of my hair. Somehow I had managed, when looking in the mirror, not to focus on my hair even though it was like a black mask hovering over me, a sinister reminder that I still was not free. But I hadn’t realized I could change it back to its original color. It almost seemed too good to be true.

  Robert coughed into his cupped hands as my silence lingered. No words would come from my mouth, though, even with the swell after swell of gratitude that was washing through me. So instead of words, I went with what my heart wanted. I threw my arms around my uncle and held him in a long hug.

  NATE WAS OUTSIDE the police station when we arrived, pacing back and forth in the small grassy area in front of the entrance.

  I slid out of the truck. “Nate, what’s wrong?”

  “Your father is here,” he said, agitated.

  “What?”

  “Charles is here?” Robert asked.

  Nate nodded, lips pursed tight. “I almost went for his throat, but they told me to leave or they would arrest me again.”

  “Is Edna here too?” Robert’s jaw flexed.

  Nate nodded again.