I stared down at our joined hands. Sometimes the pieces fit together like perfect inevitability. And then sometimes those pieces crumbled and fell apart. Some days it felt as though Bastian and I were the former. Just right. Almost normal.
But most days we were the latter. Because here, in this world we lived in, we weren’t fated. We were destined for other things.
“We missed Daily Devotional,” I said by way of answering him.
Bastian stared into my eyes. I was drowning in them…
“You’re going to get into trouble, aren’t you? Like that day in the woods with Clement and Stanley. You were scared. All of you were,” he surmised, his expression troubled.
I pulled away. He let me. He wouldn’t hold on if I wanted him to let go. With him, the choice would always be mine.
“We have rules, Bastian. You know that. We have duties and responsibilities. We have one thing to concentrate on. And it’s not going to the waterfall. It’s not artwork. It’s not talking about things that will never, can never, be.” I was working myself up. I was terrified.
I felt the walls of The Refuge all around me.
“What is it your so freaked out about?” he asked. My hands were shaking. I couldn’t help it. I couldn’t stop myself. He closed his eyes, as if trying to control himself. When he opened them, I felt the intensity of his gaze everywhere.
“It’s not right, Sara. You should be able to live your own life. Make your own decisions. Not live in fear of stepping out of line.” His voice rose and I immediately shushed him, not wanting him to be overheard.
“Stop talking like that. I’m fine—”
“We can leave,” he said. “We’ll get David and Anne and just leave.” He took a deep breath as though steadying himself. “We can start a different kind of life.” His fingers also shook as they pushed the hair back away from my face.
“David will never leave.” I felt weak. I needed him to stop talking. I needed him to tell me more.
His face twisted with pain. He knew I was right. David would never walk away from Pastor. He touched my face again. Tracing the line of my lips. Cupping the side of my neck. “Then you and me, Sara.” I blinked in shock at his suggestion. I couldn’t imagine him ever leaving David, but his eyes were serious. His expression resolute. “We’ll go. The two of us.” His voice cracked and it was then that I could hear the lie. His eyes flittered away, not quite meeting mine. We both knew he would never be able to hide the deception in them.
What sort of life could a woman like me have? A woman without money or family or skills.
Worst of all, a woman without faith.
I felt the wind knocked out of me.
A woman without faith.
Had I lost my devotion?
Had doubt clouded my mind? Had sin entered my heart?
That scared me more than the memory of The Refuge. More than Mom’s anger and Pastor Carter’s reprimand.
What was I without faith?
A black hole.
I couldn’t allow that to happen.
I pushed Bastian away hard enough that he stumbled. “I have to go. I’m sorry—I just—I have to go.”
“Wait.” Bastian pulled me towards him. His arms wrapping around me. He rested his forehead against mine. I felt myself lean into him. Absorbing all that he offered. Even as I fought with myself. Screaming into the silence that I should walk away. Pretend I didn’t feel anything for this man.
These emotions were tearing me in half.
“Sara. Please. Just think about it. You deserve more than this.” He ran his nose along mine. “You deserve to live whatever life you want.” He kissed the corner of my mouth and I froze.
Then I melted. Every part of me liquefied. Like molten heat.
Just from that one, chaste kiss.
“Bastian, please…”
Please what?
Please stop?
My body rebelled against the very thought.
Please more?
Yes. Absolutely.
So much more.
And like earlier when I made the decision to go to the waterfall, it all seemed so simple in my mind. Being with Bastian felt right.
Even when everything I had ever been told said it was wrong.
He kissed the tip of my nose. His lips trailed along the curve of my cheek to the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “I imagine you away from here. I wonder what kind of life you’d have. I think of all the different Saras that could be. The happy Sara. The confident Sara. The Sara who would help people. The Sara who goes to the grocery store and spends Sundays in the park.” He pulled back, staring into my eyes. I was trying not to cry. He had no idea how hard it was for me to hear him say these things. To imagine a girl I could never be. No matter how much, I realized, I wished I could be her.
“And I would want to know each and every one of them.”
I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move.
Bastian reached into my chest and held my heart in his hand.
He kissed my cheek, just as I had kissed his before. “I know with total certainty, that in every one of those lives, no matter what, I’d find you. I can’t live in any type of world that doesn’t have you in it.” His eyes were bright with unshed tears. His voice cracked and split me open.
My eyes fluttered closed. I tilted my head up.
And when he kissed me it was everything all at once.
It was joy and passion. It was fear and devastation.
It was the pulling apart of my entire existence.
It mended parts of me I hadn’t realized were broken.
My lips parted. I felt his tongue. I shuddered, tasting him. Wanting him more than I ever wanted anything in my entire life.
I knew that I would sacrifice anything for this feeling. For this moment of absolute, wild abandon. For this moment of total control.
I would give up my fate.
I would give up my path.
I would give up faith.
For him. For this.
He was terrifying.
I broke away. My lips throbbed. My body trembled. I wanted to pull him close. So close.
I needed to push away.
“Sara,” he said my name with a strangled sob. “Sara.” A prayer. A benediction. As if I were his path. His journey.
His reason.
“Believe in me,” he whispered, his eyes hopeful yet wary. “Have faith in this.”
He made it sound so easy. For a few brief, glorious moments it was.
With him I would worship at a different kind of altar. One rooted in this world, with this man. Our love could become my religion. His words my homily.
His soul my home.
Falling for him was soft and gentle. And my heart welcomed the inevitable impact.
Yet, what would be left of me when it was all over?
What would I be when desire gave way to reality?
I said nothing. I had no words.
He waited for me to give him something. After he had given me so much.
I couldn’t.
I didn’t know what to do.
So, I turned and I ran.
Mom was enraged when I returned to our house.
“Where have you been?” she screamed, violence in the air. Her nails broke my flesh as she gripped my arm, telling me how ashamed she was. And I took it. Because I deserved it.
Because I had allowed Satan to whisper sweet thoughts in my ear. I had been tempted by ideas I shouldn’t be thinking about.
I hated myself.
“Pastor Carter wants you to go to the solarium immediately,” Mom said after ordering me to burn my clothes. They sizzled in the fire. The earlier flashes of happiness disappearing in the smoke.
I didn’t question why Pastor Carter wanted to see me. I did as I was told.
The not-so perfect disciple.
I made my way to Pastor Carter’s house. I entered the solarium, taking my shoes off. The wood was warm and hard beneath my bare feet.
I had a
lways loved the smell of this room. Pine needles and earth.
It was meant to be a place of healing. A place of total calm and serenity.
But tonight, after being with Bastian, the memory of his mouth on mine, I didn’t feel calm or serene.
I stood just inside Pastor’s inner sanctuary. The room in his home reserved for prayer and devotion. Only a select few had been within its walls. Most days I felt thankful to be one of them.
Today I wanted to be anywhere else. I wanted solitude. I wanted to hide my face so he wouldn’t see…
We can leave. We can start a different kind of life.
Dear God, I wanted to. I had let myself be swayed by Bastian’s honeyed promises and visions of a better world.
But there wasn’t a better world. That’s what Pastor Carter had taught us. It was all lies and deception. The devil wanted us to lose our way. We had to save our souls.
Or I’d be left behind.
I just thought there was more to you than the rest of them. That you could see more.”
I needed to confess my sins to Pastor Carter. I needed to tell him about Bastian. About the wicked words that had infested my heart.
Yet, I hesitated.
The thought of Bastian being forced to leave left me reeling. Of him being made to leave his brother behind.
The memory of him at the gate, pleading to let him stay, hammered against my skull. I wanted to scream.
Why was I protecting him?
Because of him, I was losing my way.
Because of him, I was waking up…
No!
Deep breaths. One. Two. Three.
Deep breaths. Four. Five. Six.
I breathed in the scent of the room, looking for the calm I so desperately needed. The sun had started to set and there was only darkness. The flickering from the candles in the windows threw shadows across the floor.
I shivered, feeling so, so cold.
I closed my eyes and I made myself remember.
This space had always been associated with my most intense memories. Of feelings that had transformed my life.
Bastian’s face flashed in my mind. His eyes. His mouth. His hands as they held mine. He never sought to control me. He only wanted me to be happy.
But so did Pastor Carter. He only wanted what was best for me. He only wanted to save my soul.
The door opened and light flooded in. I could barely keep my head up. I hadn’t eaten in days. No water for at least that long. I smelled bad. I had gone to the bathroom in the corner. I felt ashamed. And disgusting.
At some point, in my despair, I had found a stick on the floor. I barely remembered breaking it in half. Of taking it to my wrist and pushing deep until I felt the warmth. But not deep enough to end it all.
Only enough for the pain.
Like a savior, he appeared and I thought he was a hallucination.
Arms lifted me up. “Don’t touch me,” I pleaded.
“Shh, my child. Let me take care of you.” He tucked me into his chest and carried me.
I fell asleep and when I woke up, I was in a room of windows. The sun bright in every corner. Pastor Carter put a cup of water to my lips and I drank greedily. He cleaned and bandaged my mutilated wrist.
“You’ve seen the dark, Sara. Now let me show you the light.”
Pastor Carter had taken me out of that horrible place. Not my mother. Not anyone else. Only him.
He fed me. He gave me water.
He washed my face and sang to me.
He covered my wounds and cared for me.
There was no anger. Only relief to be out of The Refuge. Desperation for the affection Pastor Carter offered.
I’d follow him anywhere.
Pastor Carter.
My protector.
“Sara, hello.” Pastor’s voice filled the room. His warm tone tinged with something else. Something harder.
“Hello, Pastor.”
He was on the floor, a notebook open in his lap. A lamp was turned on beside him. His long, greying blond hair tied back in a low ponytail. He watched me with hooded blue eyes. So stern. So unhappy.
“It’s very late, child. Where have you been?”
“I—”
“You weren’t at Daily Devotional. Neither was Anne.” His mouth pressed into a firm line. “Neither were the Scott brothers.”
I swallowed thickly, my stomach twisting and turning, my insides mush.
“You’ve been sinning, Sara,” Pastor Carter stated gruffly.
I trembled.
His voice took me back. I was no longer an eighteen-year-old woman standing in front of her savior.
I was an eight-year-old girl, frightened of the hard man who led her to The Refuge.
I dropped to my knees, my hands folded in supplication, my head bowed low.
“I’m sorry, Pastor. Please forgive me.”
Silence was my only answer.
Total, horrifying silence.
He wouldn’t speak. He let me remain on my knees, my heart slamming against my ribcage.
“What am I to forgive you for? What sins have you committed?” he asked softly. His voice enfolding me, constricting my breathing.
What sins did I want to confess? What could I say to make this better?
My mind was teetering. I felt unbalanced. Tears trickled down my cheeks.
“I shouldn’t have missed Daily Devotional. I know it is imperative to my path. I…I have strayed,” I sobbed.
“Come, child,” he murmured, more gently than before.
I got to my feet quickly and hurried over to him. I took his hand and kissed his knuckles. My tears coating his skin. I sank to the carpet in front of him, keeping my head bowed. “I’m sorry, Pastor. I’m so, so sorry.” I kissed his hand again.
I felt Pastor’s lips on the top of my head.
“Blessings to you, Sara Bishop.” His breath stirred my hair as he spoke gently in my ear.
I lifted my head and raised my eyes to his. He still seemed angry, but perhaps my anguish softened him.
He cupped my face in his palms, his thumbs pressing into my cheeks. “Sara, how is your soul?” he asked. The usual question.
I gave the expected answer. “Ready for your guidance.”
His hands lingered a little before taking my hands in his. “Let us pray. Your heart is weary. There is a smudge on your spirit. It worries me.”
“Help me take it away,” I begged.
“Offer yourself up to God. Only His wisdom can free you.”
We sat silently together, each praying for different things. The same things.
Yet, the quiet didn’t soothe me. It always had before. Since I was a confused and angry child.
Though not today.
Something had changed inside me. Something vast and mighty.
Like a dam as it tried to hold back a flood…
After a few minutes, Pastor gripped my chin and forced me to look at him. “There is darkness in you, Sara. Tell me what troubles you. What has caused you to drift from your path?”
I didn’t want to answer. I wanted to imprison the truth and keep it safe.
I felt strangely resentful of his questions. Of his demands for answers I didn’t want to give.
I shoved away those thoughts with everything I had. It was Pastor’s duty to see into the souls of his followers. It was my duty as a disciple to tell him every painful transgression.
Could I hand over Bastian as an offering?
You should be able to live your own life. Make your own decisions. Not live in fear of stepping out of line.
I bowed my head again. I shuddered slightly. My bone and marrow straining with the burden of my feelings. “I’ve had sinful thoughts, Pastor,” I rasped. Feeling shame, but also feeling something else.
Defiance.
My thoughts were my own. I didn’t have to give them to anyone.
More sin!
Was it?
Bastian didn’t think so.
But Pastor Carter sa
id…
“Tell me about them. Confess your impurities,” he urged me. Earnest. Expectant.
“I…I’ve been curious,” I started to explain in halting words. I’d give him something small. I couldn’t give him everything. Not the biggest and worst. But something significant all the same.
“Curious?” Pastor prompted when I was hesitant to continue.
“About the outside,” I whispered. The decade old guilt ate away at me. It was impossible to escape.
“Oh, Sara,” Pastor said somberly.
“I just wonder if everything is lost. If they will all be left behind. There must be some good people.” I was shocked at my words. At my boldness. I had never spoken so.
This was because of Bastian.
This was because of Anne and David.
This was because of me.
“Sara, look at me.”
I lifted my head again. Pastor’s face was so sad. Disappointed. The anger was there too. He didn’t hide it well.
“The disciples are my family. I want to ensure you will be welcomed home when The Awakening comes. End times are quickly approaching. Those people out there will all be washed away in blood and fire. You’ve read the scriptures?”
I nodded, sweat trickling down the back of my neck. My skin sticky. The sickening lump in my chest making it hard to breathe.
The Awakening.
Bastian couldn’t understand why we didn’t know more about this spiritual event. Part of me wondered to. Why was this information being kept from us?
What was Pastor trying to hide?
“And I stood upon the sand of the sea, and saw a beast rise up out of the sea, having seven heads and ten horns, and upon his horns ten crowns, and upon his heads the name of blasphemy.” Pastor Carter’s words vibrated through me like a warning.
“Out there, people are scavenging. They murder. They rape. They steal. Everyone is out for themselves. They’ve lost their souls to Satan. They’ve turned their backs on God. Up here we wait. And we keep ourselves clean.” He pressed his mouth into a thin line. “There’s nothing on the outside but misery and sin. Your soul is too good for them. For anything they might give you.”
Ashes of the Sun Page 18
