“One more game,” I announced to more cheers. And it felt good to put that delight on their faces.
Bastian knocked my shoulder with his. “Do you want to pick the seeker this time?”
“Sure.” I pointed to Dakota. “You’re it!” The boy did a cartwheel and then promptly covered his eyes and started counting.
The kids dispersed, off to find their hiding spots. Bastian stopped before disappearing into the trees.
“These kids should be doing more of this, don’t you think?” he asked, cocking his head to the side as he took the measure of me. As though he were trying to figure me out.
I could hear their laughter all around me and couldn’t deny that they deserved more play in their lives.
Pastor Carter said this was our safe place from the harshness of the outside world. That here we could be at peace. But listening to the children enjoying themselves, I realized I hadn’t heard the sound of pure joy in over ten years.
And it didn’t ache. It didn’t fill me with a dull pain that never went away.
I realized grudgingly that I had Bastian to thank for that.
Maybe he was a change that we all needed.
I watched him as he chased after the kids. He and Anne throwing good natured barbs at each other’s teams.
Then it all came to a stop.
“What’s going on out here?”
The rough voice sent shivers down my spine. Clement Rowe and Stanley Gibbons stood behind us, hands crossed over their chests. Their grizzled beards covering most of their faces, giving them a menacing appearance.
I had never liked either of the elders. They were Pastor’s heavies. The ones that kept watch over The Refuge. Pastor’s iron fists. Where he preached about passivity, Clement and Stanley’s threatening presence ensured we all fell in line.
They answered only to Pastor. It seemed, at times, they held most of us in contempt. Including my mother. Neither seemed overly fond of her, or her place at Pastor’s side.
I gave both men a wide berth.
I remembered Clement’s nails digging into my arms as he dragged me to The Refuge. The nasty grin he gave me as he locked the door behind me.
Neither men could be counted on for any kindnesses. Not even towards the children.
Particularly towards the children.
The voices all went silent. One by one the kids emerged from the trees. Anne—whose face was now tense and wary—led the way. Bastian followed her, a confused expression on his face. When he saw the two older men, it changed to concern.
“We’re having Bible study,” I said as calmly as I was able to. I was the leader here, I had to act like it.
“We can hear you back at The Retreat. Bible study doesn’t require noise,” Clement barked. “Now I’m going to ask you again, what are you doing?” He looked around at all the children, his eyes boring into each and every one of them. Looking for weakness. Waiting for one of them to break.
“We were trying a new type of Bible study. Sara would read the passages and the children would repeat them back to her. Sorry if they were too loud,” Bastian jumped in, coming to stand in front of the kids as if shielding them.
I frowned at Bastian. I didn’t want him to lie for us. Dishonesty was a sin.
Yet I didn’t want any of the kids to spend time in The Refuge. I’d take the punishment for all of them.
Perhaps a lie in the name of a greater good was okay.
Was my morality flexible? Did it bend and curve to suit me? I had never thought it was. Thinking right and wrong was as clear as black and white. But seeing Bastian standing protectively in front of the kids, I couldn’t be so sure.
Because the truth would only serve Clement and Stanley’s purposes. That wasn’t acceptable to me.
Stanley took a step towards us. It felt threatening. Intimidating. “Then why were you in the woods?” His words dripped with condescending disbelief. The children all stood straight, hands folded in front of them, heads bowed. As they had been taught to do. Making no noise. A silent row of docility.
