The Chosen

by Patricia Bell

  Tamar turned at the sound, and he pointed. “The shed!” he boomed.

  Every eye in the room was on Naaman. His anger was not a force to be reckoned with. Tamar was in grave danger.

  “Please, Father Naaman. It was my fault. Please allow me to take her punishment,” Luna begged.

  “You!” He pointed to Luna. “You wish to be punished? You may join her!” His eyes stared darts at Luna, entreating her to take him up on his offer.

  Luna shook inside like she’d never done before, but she got up and somehow moved her legs one by one until she was at the shed.

  The shed wasn’t a place for storing items as one would think. It was actually a wooden structure about twice the size of the outhouse, and nothing was stored inside. It was primarily used for punishment. The only things it contained was three nails on the wall. And on each nail, hung an item. A ruler, a paddle, and a whip. In that order. If you were sent to the shed for any reason, you were sure to get one of these items administered to some part of your body. Usually the back of your legs or your bottom. If you were lucky, you would only get the ruler. That was the least of the punishments. If you got the whip like Luna did that day, you would not be able to sit down for several days. And poor Tamar, her beautiful melodies would never be heard again. In fact, since that day, Luna had only heard her speak when spoken to. Each time Luna saw her, guilt swelled in her heart over the beating the young girl had received.

  Chapter 17 - Chief Collins

  Erika knocked on Linda Ferris’s door and waited, contemplating what she would tell the woman. She hated to be the bearer of bad news, but there wasn’t much else they could do. The fact was, most of her team had been pulled off the case to investigate the rash of car fires in the neighboring town.

  “Hi, Chief,” Linda said as she opened the door.

  For the first time since her daughter’s disappearance, the woman looked as though she had some color. And was that makeup that replaced the rings of worry on her otherwise immutable face? Had Luna been found? She stared at the woman, silently questioning.

  “Come in,” the woman said awkwardly. “You said you had something to speak to me about. Have you found Luna?” Her eyes stared hopefully.

  “No . . . no, we haven’t.” Something was different about the woman. She just couldn’t place it. And then she did. There at the table, sat a man in a wheelchair. “Oh, you have company, I can come back—”

  “Chief, this is Luna’s father, Blake.”

  The man waved and then rolled his way toward her. Luna’s father? Hadn’t she said the father was not in the picture?

  “Hi.” He was a young man. Short hair, clean cut. “Blake McKenzie.” He reached out a hand to greet her.

  “Oh, uh, hi.” Erika turned to Linda. The last she’d heard, Blake McKenzie was a no-good deadbeat dad who refused to be a part of his daughter’s life. Maybe that wasn’t how Linda had explained it, but she’d confirmed the father had nothing to do with her and Luna.

  Linda stepped up to answer her unspoken question. “I called him. I didn’t know what else to do.” Panic crept back into the lines of her face. “He agreed to come.”

  “Oh, good.” Erika tried to not make a case of it. “Well, we’re glad to have you here. If nothing else, it will be good to know Linda has support.” Better late than never.

  “I’m a lawyer out of San Diego,” he said as if that made everything clear.

  “A lawyer. Okay, well the reason I wanted to stop by ―” Erika turned back to Linda. “This is a bit of an awkward question, but did Luna have any friends who were ―” How did she say it to make it sound as normal as possible when it was strange even to her? “Amish-looking?”

  Just as suspected, her question was met with blank stares.

  Blake spoke first. “Amish?”

  “Looking?” Linda finished. These guys were two peas in a pod.

  “Well, you see—” Erika started.

  “Chief, why don’t we go into the living room. I feel as if I may need to sit down for this.”

  “I’ve got my seat,” Blake said as they headed into the living room.

  A school-girl giggle issued from Linda. Even a stranger could tell that Linda Ferris still had a thing for this man.

  Erika and Linda sat as Blake rolled up on the side, and Erika finished her story. She explained to them about her visit to Phoenix and her conversation with the smokerexic stripper.

  “An Amish-looking man? Are there even Amish in Arizona?” She looked to Blake as if he knew the answer.

  He shrugged. “Not that I know of.”

  “There are a couple of Mennonite churches in Phoenix. I sent two of my officers out to speak with the, uh, preachers. They didn’t come up with much. In fact, they didn’t look at all much different than the rest of the world. A bit more conservative, but nothing like the Old Order Amish.”

  “So, where does that leave us?”

  “I was hoping you had some insight you could give me. That maybe—”

  “I don’t know any Amish. Luna most certainly doesn’t know any either.”

  “I have to tell you.” Erika sighed. “We have this rash of fires—”

  “You are done investigating?” Panic filled her eyes. “But what about Luna? The Amish guy, I mean, it can’t be hard to locate one Amish . . . Looking. . . Chief, you can’t stop looking for my baby.”

  “I don’t want to. Believe me, I want to bring Luna home to you. But with nothing to go on and the string of vandalism, I just don’t have many people to spare.”

  Even if she did, the odds were, Luna either didn’t want to be found, or she’d gotten herself into something too deep to get out of. In either case, without more to go on, there was just no other angle to try.

  Linda bent to put her head in her hands. “You can’t stop,” she begged. “Please.”

  There was nothing more to say. “Until we have something more to go on . . . I am sorry . . . but I cannot waste any more manpower on this case.”

  She hated to do it. She wanted to find Luna. But Rick was right. She was not Superman. She could only do what she could do, and the truth of the matter was, Luna was probably in some party town like LA or Vegas, laughing it up, smoking weed, and getting wasted.

  “If you come up with anything else.” She put her hand on Linda’s shoulder. “Anything. Any clue as to where your daughter might be, you call me, and I will reopen the investigation.”

  Linda refused to look up. She didn’t blame her. She wasn’t happy with her decision either. She squeezed the woman’s shoulder, smiled at Blake, and left the home.

  Chapter 18 - Rachel

  Rachel listened at the doorway as the two women spoke. Through the crack, she was able to see them. It was dishonest to snoop, but they were speaking about her, so she did it anyway.

  “She’s just a young girl. Can’t be more than thirteen or fourteen,” Shelly whispered to a woman who sat across from her, sipping coffee.

  “You just found her out wandering in the desert? At night? What were you doing all the way out there, anyway?”

  “I went to see him,” Shelly answered.

  “Who? Oh, wait . . . Shawn? Why?”

  “I had to. I just . . . I wanted to ask him why. I mean, I’ve accepted the fact that my ex-husband was a . . . oh, it was foolish. I know.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He just said he was sorry. That he never meant to hurt those girls. That he was sick, but he was getting help.”

  The woman placed a hand on Shelly’s arm. “Do you still love him?”

  “No. I don’t love him anymore. How could I love a man like that? I just wanted to know why . . . why he would do that to me . . . to Lenny. To those girls.”

  “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.”

  Rachel tried her best to figure out exactly what was going on, but it was all too confusing. Who were they speaking of? What had the man done to her? It was not her business to eavesdrop on matters that did not concern her, so she backed
away and headed back into the room Shelly had allowed her to rest in.

  “Where did she come from?” the woman asked, piquing Rachel’s interest once again.

  Rachel went back to her original position, where she had the perfect view of the backsides of the two women.

  “I don’t know.” Shelly shifted and wiped at her face. “She was just walking down old highway forty-two when I came across her. At first, I was so in my own head that I almost passed her. But then she started to sway. It looked like she might pass out, so I pulled over and called to her.”

  “There’s nothing out that way between Phoenix and the prison is there? Where was she coming from? Or going?”

  “I don’t know. Honestly.” Shelly’s voice lowered so that Rachel could barely hear. “It was like something, someone, whispered in my ear and told me to get off on that exit. Creepy, right?” Shelly rubbed her shoulder blades. “Just the thought of it gives me goosebumps.”

  “You think it was meant for you to find her?”

  Rachel was brought back to the moments before Shelly had shown up. Hadn’t she cried out to God for help? But the woman must have already been on that long stretch of abandoned road long before she’d begged for rescue. Had God answered her prayer before she’d even prayed about it? No, it was not possible. God had forsaken her. It was true. She’d done the unpardonable. She tried to tune back into the conversation.

  “. . .she won’t tell me anything. Only that she’s been flushed out. Whatever that means.”

  Rachel could take it no longer. She came into view.

  “Fleshed,” she spoke from behind them. “I have been fleshed-out.”

  “Oh!” Shelly startled. “Rachel, come on in. Have a seat. I’d like you to meet my friend, Hannah.”

  Hesitantly, Rachel walked into the room in a pair of Shelly’s sweatpants and a t-shirt. She sat down on the farthest part of the couch.

  “Hannah, this is Rachel.”

  “Hi, Rachel.” Hannah smiled in her direction.

  Rachel waved shyly. After the conversation she’d just witnessed, she wasn’t sure what to think.

  “Did you get some sleep? You must have slept like a baby after all you’ve been through.”

  “Not so well. I have never slept anywhere but in my own bed,” Rachel confided.

  “Would you like a shower?”

  “I do not—” Rachel stared at Shelly in wonder at the strange word. There were so many things about the English she did not understand. “I do not know what that is.”

  “You don’t know what a shower is? You know with a head up above, and the water sprinkles out?” Shelly simulated it with her hands.

  “No.” Rachel shook her head. She couldn’t imagine such a thing. A head above with water sprinkling out? The image that gave her made her shudder.

  A head? A human head?

  “How about a bath?” Shelly asked, and Rachel’s eyes lit up. She’d been walking in the hot sun for so long that even she could smell the stench that emanated from her body.

  “I would like that. If you have a bucket, I can draw my own water.”

  At her words, it seemed as if the tables had turned. The two women stared at Rachel as if she were the one speaking in strange terms.

  Bucket? Water? What is so uncommon about that?

  “Rachel.” Shelly leaned forward. “You don’t have running water where you are from?”

  “What do you mean?” So many simple terms used in such complicated ways.

  “Rachel,” Hannah tried. “If you tell us where you came from, maybe we can help you. My husband is a police officer. I’m sure he could speak to your—”

  “No! No police!”

  English Police were the servants of the devil. She’d been taught that all her life. Clutching her chest, she jumped up. “I must go now.”

  “No, Rachel, wait. We won’t speak to him yet. Right?” Shelly looked at Hannah.

  Hannah gave her a long stare, but as she looked back to Rachel, she relented. “Oh, alright.” She backed down.

  “But, Rachel, you have to give us something to go on. I can’t allow you to stay here if there is someone out there looking for you,” Shelly said.

  “No one is,” Rachel stated firmly as she sat back down. “I told you. I have been fleshed-out.”

  “Explain to me exactly what that means. I’m not familiar with the term.” Shelly placed a hand over hers.

  A warmth ran through Rachel. Could these people be trusted? Their concern for her seemed genuine. She threw caution to the wind. She was a condemned person, anyway. There was nothing more they could do to her.

  She spoke. “I have sinned against God. I was immoral with a boy, and now I am with child. My community has banned me from their presence. God has forsaken me.”

  The two women stared in stunned silence. Mouths open, eyes wide. One looked to the other until finally, one of them spoke.

  “You are pregnant?” Hannah asked. “Do you know for sure?”

  Apparently, they had missed the whole banished from the sight of God thing. She could do nothing but nod.

  “How do you know? Have you been to a doctor?” Shelly asked.

  “We do not have doctors. God is our healer.” Then quieter, she said, “I have missed my cycle for three months. Mama Sarah says that means I am with child.”

  Mama Sarah hadn’t told her that in so many words. She’d remembered it from when she was a curious child. She’d been at the dinner table and blurted out the question — where do babies come from?

  She was immediately sent to the shed and punished harshly for her indiscretion but later that night while she lay in bed crying, Mama Sarah had come to her and explained the answer to her question. She hadn’t understood it all then, but as the words came back to slap her in the face, she blushed in shame.

  “You had intercourse with a boy?” Shelly asked.

  Rachel nodded. “I have. But only once.” Obviously, that was all it took. Just once.

  “You said you lived in a community. Does it have a name? Your community?”

  “We are The Chosen. Um, well, they are. I am no longer.” A wayward tear rolled down her cheek.

  “I’m so sorry,” Shelly said. “Let’s get you a bath, and I’ll whip you up something to eat.”

  At the woman’s use of the word “whip,” Rachel withdrew, but she quickly realized that Shelly had not meant anything harmful by it. The English used strange words, that was for sure. She covered up her reaction with an embarrassing yet extremely pressing question.

  “First, uh . . .” Rachel blushed. “May I use your outhouse?”

  Shelly had pumped her so full of water that she was bursting to relieve herself.

  “Uh, sure,” Shelly answered, glancing at Hannah. “Let me show you where it is.”

  “I’m gonna head home,” Hannah said. “Timmy’s already in bed, and Todd is watching the game. He probably doesn’t even know I’m gone. But the game should be over soon.”

  “He knows,” Shelly said with a smile. “Sure, go ahead and get back to your family. Give Timmy a kiss for me.”

  “I will. And you tell Lenny that Timmy and I will see him on Sunday.”

  Rachel watched as the two shared a moment of affection before Hannah left.

  Once she was out the door, Shelly turned to Rachel. “Come on, honey. I’ll show you to the indoor outhouse.”

  Rachel looked at her strangely but followed along.

  AS RACHEL LAY IN THE tub of steaming water, a euphoric feeling rushed over her. Bath time in her community was nothing like this. No soft scents, no revitalizing bubbles, and it had been a long time since she’d gotten in while the water was still hot . . . and clean. And it was inside the house. She was inside, and she had complete privacy.

  So many thoughts ran through her head. So many strange surroundings. Who’d have thought, an outhouse inside?

  What do they call it? An inhouse?

  She giggled at the thought, though there was nothing about
her situation worth laughing about. All these worldly things, these comforts, they were of the devil. She’d been taught that from a youngling. Still, she was now a part of this strange new world, and if she was destined for hell, she might as well enjoy life while she was still on the earth.

  Chapter 19 - Linda

  “You just got here, and now you’re leaving?” Linda was being unreasonable.

  Blake had made no commitment to stay, and it was bound to end sooner or later. He had a life back in San Diego. She just didn’t think he’d be leaving so soon.

  “There are some things I have to handle.” Blake turned his back on her.

  He was hiding something. It was the same response he had in high school when he’d denied the rumor that Tonisha Somers tried to kiss him behind the bleachers at a football game.

  “What’s going on?” she tried. But like then, he refused to face her. “Luna needs you.”

  It was a low blow, yet, it was true. Luna needed a father. If she’d grown up with one all along, maybe she’d have not turned out so wayward.

  “Look.” He turned to her with an expression of fury she’d never seen from him before. “I have business to take care of in San Diego.” No longer was he the same high school kid she’d, on occasion, managed to shame into compliance.

  “What business? Blake, are you really divorced?” Her anger was fueled by his. She had no right, but still . . .

  “Do you think I’m lying to you? Why would I do that? Why would I tell you I was divorced if I wasn’t?” He stared darts into her eyes.

  He was telling the truth.

  “Okay. Okay. I’m sorry. I just . . .”

  “I have things to tend to. I’ll call you when it’s settled.”

  “I need you now, Blake. Luna is out there somewhere, and I have to . . .”

  It was no use. She’d known from the start that he wouldn’t be much help. Still, she’d been so happy to see him. Foolishly she’d hoped, just like the last time, that he’d want to care for his daughter.