There wasn’t anyone at the gate, but through the chain-link I saw about half a dozen people, mostly women dressed in shorts and tank tops walking toward the barn, coming out of trailers, or hanging clothes on a line. None seemed to notice me. I honked the horn before I saw the old-fashioned bell beside the gate. All six pairs of eyes whipped toward my direction in shock. A shirtless man came out of his tent, looking ready to fight, glaring at me. No one moved toward the gate; in fact some moved backward a little. Guess I should have used the bell, I thought.
About ten seconds later, two men and a girl came out of the front door of the white wooden farmhouse. I actually gasped when I saw him. “Thank God,” I said to myself. I hadn’t seen my brother in almost two years, ever since the family helped move me to Grafton. We hadn’t spoken since then either. I think I remembered to send him a birthday card on our birthday. I hoped I had.
The cult life seemed to agree with him, at least physically. He looked good under his jeans and white T-shirt. Lean. Tan. His blond-streaked brown hair reached his shoulders. He looked…happy. Glowing. Especially when he whispered to the girl whose hand he held.
Since leaving the farmhouse, the woman, or really girl as she could barely be out of her teens, kept her head hung and remained very close, almost glued to Billy’s side. I assumed she was Betsy, my pregnant sister-in-law. Her long red hair was in a braid that made the roundness of her face more prominent. She barely reached Billy’s shoulder and her green sundress showed a large portion of her curves. She wasn’t fat, just womanly. I kind of envied her that.
Last but not least, I quickly gauged the man beside my brother. That day Mathias Morning wore dark blue jeans, a white short-sleeved button-down, wire-rimmed glasses, and sandals. As he walked closer I noticed little things, like that he kept his hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly slumped. Was he nervous? Was he attempting to make himself appear diminished? Weak? His beard and gray hair added to the meek, mild illusion. Anyone on the street would mistake him for an accountant or lawyer, not a new-age con artist who could manipulate people into prostitution. Of course, The Rosetta Ripper had the face of a cherub and the Woodsman once literally modeled for GQ. It was one of the reasons they got away with their crimes as long as they had.
If that was how he wanted to play it, I’d go along. I smiled as they reached the gate. Mathias unchained and rolled it to the side to allow me in. I maneuvered the car up to them. “Thank you,” I said, my smile never wavering. I drove up to the farmhouse beside a van like the one used by rec centers. The other six cars were all at least a decade old. I thought I recognized one or two from The Temple.
Well, they haven’t shot me on sight, I thought as I shut off the car. Good start.
As I did, another man came onto the wooden porch not ten feet from where I parked. His naturally narrow eyes were practically pinpoints as he stared at me. His salt-and-pepper brown hair was flattened into a perfect crew cut. The rest of him was thick, from his nose and his square jaw to his muscle-bound body. He carried himself like The Hulk, ready for a fight. He must’ve been in many, as the scar cutting down his eyebrow to his cheek suggested. He may as well have had “Done hard time” tattooed across his forehead. It was probably the only tattoo he didn’t have. He wore a wife-beater, jeans, and a gray overshirt that barely contained his massive upper arms, one of which was entirely covered in tattoos. I made a mental note of the tattoo on his left wrist of a red dragon that wrapped all the way around and the blue Buddha at the crook of his elbow. Both could be used to find his rap sheet. The guy had to be Ken. With him looming above me, not even the car felt safe anymore. I grabbed my purse, draping it across my chest. At least Ken made it easier to get out of the damn car.
I ignored Ken and focused on the three smiling people approaching me. Then it came. The moment of truth. Billy may have been smiling, but part of me was convinced it was all a façade. The expression was to hide his true intent. To yell. To slap me. I tensed and waited for the inevitable. That inevitable turned out to be:
“Oh, my universe! It’s really you!”
My brother bridged the gap between us and wrapped his arms around me in a tight embrace. He was always affectionate, a hugger, but it was still shocking. He smelled of BO and wood chips and had lost twenty pounds since I saw him last, so it was almost like hugging a stranger, but I did hug him back. After a second, I even began to enjoy it. I’d done it. I’d found him. He wasn’t maimed, he wasn’t dead, and he actually seemed joyful. The fact that he was happy to see me was just an added bonus. “Hi, Billy.”
My brother released me and took a step back. “Oh, Iris, you look great.”
“Yeah, well, the last time you saw me I’d just gotten out of a month in a hospital, so…” I chuckled. “But you! You look great too. So muscular.”
“I’ve been helping out here for a while and cut out processed food. I feel amazing!”
Mathias smiled like a proud father behind Billy, while Betsy shrunk against the guru as she had Billy. Either she was naturally shy or I was more frightening than I knew. Probably both. I glanced over at them and Billy turned around. “Oh, sorry,” Billy said. “I’m being rude. Iris, may I introduce you to the man and woman who changed my existence, my soul even. Mathias Morning and Betsy Ballard. My wife.”
Billy studied my face for my reaction to this news, maybe hoping to shock me, but I just smiled. “It’s nice to finally put faces to names.” One in particular. “Welcome to the family, Betsy. You poor, poor dear.”
“What?” Betsy asked, face scrunched up in confusion. God, she can’t be more than nineteen, I thought.
“She’s joking, baby,” Billy said.
“You’ll understand if you meet our mother,” I said.
“When you meet our mother,” Billy corrected.
Mathias stepped forward, holding out his hand. “It is a unique pleasure to meet you, Agent Ballard. Welcome to The Apex,” he said, perfectly pleasant.
I shook his hand. “Thank you for allowing me to come,” I said in the same tone. “And it’s no longer Agent Ballard. I’m not affiliated with the FBI anymore.” So you don’t need to worry about them right now. “Please call me Iris. And should I call you Grand Journeyman Morning?”
“Mathias is fine, Iris,” he said, smile growing again. “I do have one request, though. Would you mind turning off your cellphone and leaving it inside your car? You can keep the gun on your ankle if you wish, though.”
I couldn’t hide my shock when he said that. How the hell did he know? Billy was just as shocked, though for an entirely different reason. “Iris, you brought a gun here?”
“I—”
“It’s perfectly fine, Billy,” Mathias said, his smile turning gentle. “I assume she brings one with her everywhere. If I had been through half of what your poor sister has, I would as well.”
“I-I suppose,” Billy said.
Mathias looked back at me. “This is a sanctuary of peace and healing. Any electronics can interfere with the natural energy of this land. As for the gun, if it makes you feel secure, if you do not trust us or your brother to keep you safe, by all means keep it on your person. But I swear to the universe, Ms. Ballard, you will leave no worse for the wear from here. I promise.”
Rat bastard. First gauntlet thrown down. If I kept my gun it would show my brother I was suspicious of his friends and, worse, didn’t trust him. Not the best start to the family reunion. I stared into Mathias’s hazel eyes, which were slightly raised at the corners, almost smiling. He was enjoying my reluctance. I knew I had no choice. “Well, if you promise.” I looked at Billy. “And I know my brother will protect me from any stampeding cows we might find on the farm.”
“It’s really just the heat and mosquitos you have to worry about,” Billy said.
“Okay.” Though it made me a little sick to do it, I turned off my iPhone for all to see and removed the ankle holster. I locked both in the trunk but kept my purse. “Do you all mind? It just has my wallet, water, a
nd tampons. No more electronics. You can search it if you want.”
“It’s fine,” Mathias said. “Trust runs both ways, Iris.” And now that I was unarmed and couldn’t call for help, what threat was I? “Now, would you like something to eat or drink? We have herbal tea and bread from last night.”
“No, I’m good. I’m fine.”
“Then why don’t we give you the tour? You have gone to great lengths to come here. I’ve always felt tenacity should be rewarded. And I hear you enjoy horses. Ours could use some exercise—perhaps you can ride him for us.”
So he’d been speaking to Helen as well. The side of my mouth twitched.
“When did you start riding?” Billy asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Huh. That’s not what you told Helen,” Mathias said pleasantly, yet Billy hung his head in embarrassment. “Well, there’s still plenty to show you that should interest you. Shall we?”
We followed Mathias up the creaking porch steps into the wooden farmhouse. Ken had disappeared, but I assumed he was close by somewhere. Watching. I wasn’t the only uneasy person with the last name Ballard, though. Betsy clung to Billy’s arm again when I moved beside them. What, was she afraid I was going to attack her? Banish her to the underworld? Billy didn’t seem to notice her reaction. I could practically see the insecurity wafting from her like stink marks in a cartoon. I turned my attention back to the ringmaster of the circus. I wasn’t hunting rabbit; I was hunting bear.
The farmhouse was rustic, with faded prairie wallpaper peeling in places, worn hardwood floors with even more worn brown rugs, and antique furniture that would fetch three dollars at a thrift store. The place showed signs of long-term neglect. But despite this, it was modestly homey. It smelled like apple cinnamon, and toys and sleeping bags were scattered around, along with more crystal wind chimes and statues of the Buddha, ying/yang symbols, and fairies as decorations.
“So, this is our humble lodging—well, one of them,” Mathias said. “Unfortunately the house only has six bedrooms, so some voyagers have to live in tents and trailers until we complete construction on our dormitory. I know it doesn’t look like much, but we’ve only been here for a few months and it was quite the fixer-upper. The roof, the floors, the kitchen—we’ve been working day and night since we moved in.”
“How many people live here full-time?” I asked.
“Including Billy, now twenty-six.”
“And some from The Temple come and help as well? They live here part-time?”
“If they wish to.”
“And do they work all the time? You said night and day.”
“If they wish to.”
“And I assume you don’t pay anyone,” I said.
“Iris!” Billy hissed.
“It’s fine, Billy,” Mathias said.
“We live here too, Iris,” Billy said. “This is our home. When I helped fix up your house, was that wrong? You didn’t pay me then.”
Still sounded like slavery with extra steps to me, but I held my tongue. I was there as the sweet, sympathetic sister, not the investigator. At least that was how it had to appear on the surface. “You are absolutely right, Billy. I’m sorry.”
Mathias touched Billy’s arm and smiled sympathetically. “I told you, son, don’t fault her for her skepticism. Our ways will appear odd to her, just as they did to you in the beginning. It is our job as instruments of the universe to enlighten her and expand her mind to new ways of thinking and living.” He smiled at me. “As long as she’s willing to keep an open mind and tries to be empathetic, we must forgive all her stumbling. Yes?”
“Of course,” Billy said, almost breathless. “I’m sorry, Mathias.”
“It’s fine, son. Now shall we continue on the tour? We have much to show her.”
Mathias began walking again toward the back of the house and Billy led Betsy behind him. Okay, that fucker was masterful. Not only did he demonstrate his power over Billy, but by defending me he made himself the selfless hero and me the outsider dunce. He took away my credibility and made it so anything I said against the group or Mathias came from selfish close-mindedness. If it weren’t directed at me, I’d have been impressed.
There was a lone woman kneading bread in the next room. “This is the kitchen, and this is Hannah, Betsy’s friend. She makes the best Amish friendship bread in the world. We’d all have starved or been forced to eat that poisoned processed garbage if not for them. Both she and Betsy have taught us so much about farming, crafting, making our own food, raising livestock. They are truly gifts from the universe.”
“You were Amish?” I asked Betsy.
“Y-Yes,” she whispered. I got the sense she wanted to be as far from me as possible. That did not bode well for future family reunions.
“We try to live by their example. We make as much of our own food as we can, we have no television or Internet, we have electricity but only for heating and light, and for the most part we live off the land,” Mathias said.
“Sounds exhausting,” I chuckled.
“It is, but it’s so worth it, Iris,” Billy said. “I’ve never felt physically better in my life.”
“Of course you did just come back from your honeymoon, so…” Hannah said.
“Maybe that’s why I’m so exhausted,” Billy said to her.
“Where did you honeymoon?” I asked.
“We spent the last three days on the far end of the property in one of the trailers, just…talking, being together, making love in the moonlight.”
“Billy,” Betsy hissed, burrowing deep into his arm.
“It sounds lovely,” I said. “I spent my honeymoon in my apartment eating Chinese takeout for a weekend before going back to work. You win, brother dear.”
“Where are my manners? Hannah, this is Dr. Iris Ballard, Billy’s sister,” Mathias said.
“Nice to meet you. Welcome to The Apex,” she said.
“Thank you.”
“If you’re not hungry or thirsty, then let’s continue on,” Mathias said. “Lots more to see. Can’t wait for that bread, Hannah.”
Oh, wasn’t that just a wholesome tableau. All that was missing was the baby on her hip. It was so staged. The whole visit would be. At least perhaps I’d get some Amish friendship bread out of the farce.
Mathias led us outside onto the back deck, then down toward the trailers and fields. The women on laundry duty kept glancing up nervously before whispering to each other the moment I stepped out. Had Mathias prepped them for my arrival? Did they all know about my deception at The Temple and that I was there to scrutinize them? Potentially cause trouble? As those women kept whispering after we passed them toward the trailers and tents, I guessed yes.
“You don’t have washing machines?” I asked.
“The detergents are toxic. As I said, we try to remain as self-sufficient as possible. We can make our own soap and draw water from the well,” Mathias said.
I was going to point out that there were a lot of organic detergents on the market, but knew it would start another debate. Mathias probably didn’t give a shit about chemicals. He just wanted to work his people to the bone so they’d be more compliant.
“Plus this way we’re not feeding the beast of consumerism and capitalism,” Billy added. “You know, the utility and big corporations that sell food and detergents are all ruining the world with their greed and corruption. They’ve made us their slaves. Taking and taking and taking, and giving us nothing but debt in return. Bastards.”
I was a bit taken aback. My brother hadn’t gotten so fired up about anything…ever. Not when he was picked on at school. Not even the few times Mom turned her fury on him.
“If you’re not part of the solution, if you’re not willing to take a stand, then you’re part of the problem,” Betsy said. “Right, Mathias?”
“Absolutely,” Mathias replied.
Oh, the good old us versus them. Effective all the way back to our caveman days.
Betsy glowed a little fr
om the praise and earned a kiss from Billy as well.
“And here’s our temporary living area,” Mathias continued, gesturing to the tents and three almost rotting trailers. I wouldn’t want to spend a minute, let alone all night, in one of them.
“They must be sweltering inside,” I said.
“Which is why we spend most nights under the moon,” Billy said.
“And sweating’s healthy. It clears your pores and body of toxins,” Betsy said.
“People pay thousands for saunas and sweat lodges. We’re getting it for free,” Billy said.
Yeah, “free.” Or two grand, in his case. “Good for you.”
Our next stop in the freak show was the actually impressive fields of crops—two acres of various vegetables, fruits, even flowers and plants. There were about a dozen people, men and women both, from ages twenty to sixty tending the crops. Hoeing, tilling, watering, trimming branches, and harvesting fruits and vegetables. My stomach lurched when one of the shirtless workers hoeing turned around and wiped the sweat from his brow. Paul. I hung my head and turned my back to him.
“And this is our crowning glory, the garden,” Mathias said with pride. “There are two more vegetable gardens, mostly for herbs and the more delicate succulents, but this is where we grow the majority of the food we eat here and send to The Temple. We plan on tilling three more acres by winter. Once again, Betsy was invaluable on this project. We now produce seventy-five percent of our own food. You truly are a gift from the universe, Betsy.”
“No one knows that better than me,” Billy added, kissing her again.
“This is truly impressive. Really. I can’t even keep a cactus alive,” I said.
“But you had that beautiful garden in Arlington,” Billy said.
“Yeah, that was all Hayden. Remember?”
“Oh. Right. Sorry,” Billy said with a frown.
“It’s okay. You can mention him,” I said.
“He sounded like a good man,” Mathias added. “We were lucky to have him on this plane as long as we did.”
Darkness at the Edge of Town Page 19
