Only a little.
“We’re not supposed to ask,” Caitlyn chastised, giving the required answer before I could. She looked at me as if for confirmation she had done the right thing in admonishing him. Caitlyn was a year younger than Anne and me. At seventeen she had the body of a thirteen-year-old. She was what most would label as a late bloomer. She had long hair, like the rest of us, a deep shade of red that was easily her best feature. She was also clingy and wanting validation in all things. She was a nice enough girl, though perhaps a bit annoying at times. Like the younger sibling you could never shake loose. I was patient with her, as I was meant to be. Stafford and Minnie not so much.
I gave her a small nod and Caitlyn returned to the tomato plant she was pruning.
“Caitlyn’s right. We’re not to speak of it. Only pray for forgiveness for those who hurt them.” I watered the fledgling pea shoots and got to my feet. My back ached from bending over for so long.
“It’s messed up though. Adam’s arm is broken. And Tyler’s eye is swollen shut. You should see him. Why do those people hate us so much?” Minnie spoke up. She and Stafford were one and the same. A little bit of trouble. A little bit of a handful. They weren’t exactly model disciples. They gossiped and had more than their fair share of sinful thoughts and behaviors. They had also spent more than their fair share of time at The Refuge. And it was only the fear of returning there that kept their sinful natures in check. Kept their comments confined to our small group.
Though I felt like a disapproving mother having to keep them in line all the time.
Minnie was beautiful by anyone’s standards. With long blonde hair and dazzling hazel eyes, she was the sort of girl that in any other situation, would intimidate me. She was pretty and knew she was pretty. But here she couldn’t use her looks to their best advantage and I had no doubt that for someone like Minnie Gardner, that was difficult. It was obvious she held onto her vanity more than the others, though she hid it. She snuck lemons from the kitchen to lighten her hair and I caught her crushing berries to redden her lips.
And Stafford noticed. He wasn’t good-looking, but Minnie clearly enjoyed his attention.
“They may hate, but we have to love twice as much,” I said primly, wiping my hands on my patchwork pants. They were becoming thread bare. A hole had started on my knee, I would have to sew on a new patch otherwise I’d be down a pair of trousers. We had few possessions at The Retreat. What clothes we did have had to be cared for and would need to last us for many seasons. I wasn’t very good with a needle and thread. Making clothing from scratch took a long time and I would rather expend my energy in prayer or in the garden. Yet sometimes I wished for a decent pair of jeans. Something frivolous.
Then I’d chide myself. Desiring nice dresses and trendy shoes was a waste of emotion that I wouldn’t succumb to.
“Always the right answer,” Minnie muttered. She jabbed her fingers into the dirt, digging deep.
“Because itisthe right answer,” Anne piped up, ever my defender.
“Yep,” Bobbie agreed. He was the quiet type, rarely involved in our conversations. His one word response was typical of him.
“Minnie, take care not to bruise the plants,” I reminded her, choosing to ignore her surliness.
I had taken on the role of unofficial leader of our small group years ago. Pastor Carter said I was special. Everyone else seemed to agree. Even if my peers, at times, appeared to mock my standing within our family.
I had never asked to be something different. Something more. It was simply my duty.
None of the others knew about “old Sara.” The scared, angry girl I had been. The desperate girl that wanted to leave and run far, far away. To a father who had abandoned her. To a world she was told would ruin her.
I hadn’t cared.
I had hated The Gathering. I loathed The Retreat.
Pastor Carter wasn’t so kind with me then. He had been strict. Ruthless even. I had tested his patience. I had spit in his face at his attempts to embrace me into his faith.
I detested the memory of that girl.
She was my enemy.
I ran a thumb along the jagged scar on my wrist. Most of the time I pretended it didn’t exist. It had become surprisingly easy to block out the ugliness. I had become a pro at avoidance and suppression.
But sometimes, even in the light of God’s sun, I still remembered…
“Let me go!”
The high-pitched scream pierced the air. Disturbing the calm that we worked so hard to maintain. The silence that wrapped around us like a comforting blanket.
Anne went alarmingly still. She didn’t look up. Her head remained resolutely bowed, her fingers working the dirt in distressed movements.
Stafford, Minnie, and Caitlyn did the same. Their usual banter had stopped. I noted the way Minnie’s breathing became erratic. Staff reached over and touched the back of her hand. A small, comforting gesture. Bobbie’s face had gone pale. His usual bland expression strained.
But none of them looked.
Not a single one.
