“Not yet. Pastor Carter asked me to come by the solarium first.” I felt a fullness in my chest at the admission. A sense of duty and purpose that no one but the other fifty-five people in my chosen family would understand.
Anne glanced at me, her eyes clear and bright in the early light. Eyes so blue they were like reflections of the sky.
“Why?” she asked simply. No accusation. No jealousy either. That’s not how Anne and I worked.
I looked around, ensuring that others weren’t paying attention. Of course they weren’t. Each and every one was immersed in their own thoughts. Their own conversations.
“We’ve had many talks,” I began to say softly. I felt her tug on my thumb.
“What do you talk about?”
“Plans. My path. The journey,” I answered. To some this would sound vague. As if I weren’t really answering her at all. But those words would be understood by every single brother and sister of The Gathering.
Our path was what defined us. Defined our lives at The Retreat—the 100-acre home of The Gathering of the Sun.
“Why your path specifically?” Anne prodded. I knew she was simply interested. She wanted to know. She wanted to hear the words that had been gifted to me.
There was curiosity in her tone. An eagerness to live vicariously.
Pastor Carter was our leader. Our mentor. Our guide.
His attention was craved. His words a blessing. He spent time with all of us at different points, but I knew that his time with me was different.
I shivered. Suppressed darkness always there. Reminders of things I didn’t want to think about…
I smiled, forcing my thoughts to a different place. A comfortable one.
My life had been crafted into perfect devotion.
And I was the absolute disciple.
Pastor Carter was everything to the disciples of The Gathering. He was leader. He was father. He was our conscience. He was our moral center.
In reality, he had absolute power over us. Over our lives. Some men would become rotten with that sort of control over others. He could have wielded it mercilessly, ruining us without anyone being the wiser. But he handled his responsibility with seeming care. Everything he did was for the betterment of his flock. I truly believed that. Because that’s what he told us to believe. And if there was anything festering, I looked the other way. I could justify it a million different ways.
I refused to believe anything was there in the first place.
“When you think about life—about the future—what do you see?” Pastor Carter had asked the first time he had requested that I join him in his private solarium. I was a teenager. Gangly and awkward but desperate to feel special. To feel unique.
The solarium was a place unlike any I had ever seen. I had often wondered about the walls of glass at the back of Pastor Carter’s house, but never dared ask about it. Now I was seeing it for myself. And it was beautiful.
The silence inside was profound. We lived a mostly quiet life. Noise had very little purpose unless in prayer or song. Yet in spite of this, I still found the calm of Pastor’s solarium almost overwhelming.
I had just left the soft voices and hushed laughter of the other women making lunch. We had spent the morning in prayer as we always did. Every minute cataloged. Every moment accounted for. It was meant to smother the chaos of the outside world. Only through consistency could we find peace.
Our routines were rigid. But the times allowed for talking together were sacred. Laughter was hallowed. True joy was a gift none of us took for granted. Mostly because we experienced so little of it. We spent most of our time fearing the inevitable.
I wanted to be with Anne and Mom. I wanted to laugh too. But I knew that this was more important.
It felt life changing.
“I think about being here. Being a disciple for The Gathering,” I told him. This should be self-explanatory.
I hadn’t been given a choice to come. But now I chose to stay.
I was fifteen. In the full throes of teenage-hood. Ready to be an adult, yet with a childlike devotion to those around me. In my mind, my heart, my soul, I belonged here. With my family. With my faith.
With Pastor Carter.
