How one person’s opinion should matter so much to so many people. That his words provided us with some sort of validation.
But I wouldn’t think that way. I knew better than to give purchase to any doubt. To any criticism.
“Come on, guys, let’s get back to the lesson,” I said, interrupting their clamoring.
Pastor Carter took the time to give each of them a hug. He always did that. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. As a child I had craved that. I had never been made to feel as if I mattered most. Pastor filled a void I hadn’t known existed.
I gave everything to him. Mind and body.
And he did the same for each of the children here now.
He stood back up and grinned at the children. “I think you’ve learned a great deal from your Bible lesson for one night. I say you deserve a game or two before bed. Off you go.” The kids squealed in delight and ran across the room towards the cabinet where the few board games were kept.
I closed the Bible and handed it to Anne, who put it back on the shelf where I had gotten it. We started to clean up the cushions the children had been sitting on when Pastor touched my shoulder.
“Sara, I need you to come with me to the gate,” Pastor announced loudly. The room instantly went quiet. All eyes on me.
The five elders, including my mother, all seemed shocked. But I was shocked most of all.
Anne gaped at me, her mouth open. I noticed Caitlyn, Stafford, and Minnie sharing a look of barely concealed jealousy. They wouldn’t comment though. They knew better. They’d swallow their frustration and smile anyway. Bobbie’s expression, per usual, was totally unreadable. Or uncaring. I wasn’t sure which.
I looked at my mother again, wanting to seeherpride.Herapproval.
Only I was going to be very disappointed. It wasn’t her customary frustration in me that felt like a punch to the gut. I had seen that particular expression on her face many times before. She disproved of a lot of things I did. Things I said. Even as I tried my hardest to be devout. To be the perfect disciple. She continued to find ways I could be better. Claiming it was her job as an elder to guide me. Deep down I think she enjoyed doling out criticism.
It wasn’t any of the normal expressions I saw when I looked at her. Instead it was hooded resentment in her eyes. It left me breathless.
Bitterness.
Envy.
She looked at me, her daughter, as if I were an enemy. As if Ithreatenedher.
The Gathering was meant to turn their backs on wasteful human emotions. Pastor Carter preached extensively about doing away with the negative trappings of theoutside. That included coveting.
Yet, it seemed, the louder he preached, the harder some fell into the mire. Sometimes that meant they left The Retreat. That they were cast out and the gate closed behind him.
Sometimes, if they hid their sin well enough, they remained and the negative emotions churned unchecked.
Weallcoveted. Every single one of us. We felt jealousy. Pastor’s love was precious and we wanted it for ourselves alone. There was a constant vying for our leader’s attention. For his respect. For his regard. Even here, the worst of human nature festered.
In my lowest times, I wondered what the point of it all was. Leaving home. Leaving friends and family behind. Why come here to only experience the same horrid duplicity and moral ambiguity that defined anoutsidelife?
But then I’d stand in the sun. I’d pray to the heavens. I’d read the scriptures. And I was home.
I gave my mother a sweet, sweet smile in an effort to placate her. It didn’t work the same way it had done when I was younger.
She smiled back, but it resembled jagged glass and disappeared entirely when Pastor Carter took my hand. It was dry and warm in mine. Our palms pressed together. His fingers strong. I felt cared for. Protected.
I looked at my mom again. Her mouth pinched. Her eyes narrowed.
The knot in my stomach coiled tightly.
“Come along, Sara. We have to go.” Pastor Carter nodded his head in acknowledgment to the rest of the disciples as we made our way towards the door. It felt a bit like a procession. But I held my head high and allowed myself to be led.
I briefly touched Anne’s arm. She smiled. It was warm and genuine, if not a little confused. I ignored Minnie, Caitlyn, and Stafford. I let my hand go weak in Pastor Carter’s grasp.
Pliant. Placid. I handed myself over to my father, my leader, myeverything.
