Chapter Twelve
“Calee, good morning.”
I freeze at the sound of my name and feel a knot in my stomach tighten painfully. I look up from the laundry I'm doing and see Raymond standing before me. His smile is wide and his cheeks flushed. A girl – no more than fifteen – stands next to him, clutching his hand. She smiles at me and then turns her face back up to Raymond, looking at him with an expression bordering on rapturous.
Raymond is a tall man, easily six-three, with salt and pepper colored hair and vivid green eyes. He's slender and has a goatee that's nearly pure white. He's a fairly handsome man, I guess, and has a professorial look about him. But he's not a man you'd look twice at on the street. He's rather – ordinary looking, to be honest.
But the one thing that was undeniable about him is his charm and charisma. When he's on, he can light up a room with his personality. He's got the ability to make a single person, in a room full of hundreds, feel like the only person in the world. Like they matter. Like they're important.
He has an electricity and a magnetism about him that people are drawn to. That they're compelled by. He inspires them to do and think things they'd never consider doing or thinking on their own. He makes people pledge their lives to him – and believe it's their idea.
That's his power as the leader of this cult. He takes people's free will and twists it. Distorts it until it's nothing but a pile of dust. And then he puts them back together in the image he wants them to be – minus their ability to think or act for themselves.
And they thank him for it.
I drop the laundry back into the tub and stand up straight, bowing my head, trying to show the deference he requires. But seeing him with the girl brings back too many terrible memories and makes my skin crawl all over again.
“Good morning, Raymond,” I say, trying to keep the disgust out of my voice.
“I don't believe you've met my wife,” he says. “Rachel, this is Calee. Calee, Rachel.”
I bow my head again, not daring to meet the eyes of either one. “Very nice to meet you, Rachel,” I say. “May God bless you and grant you a very fruitful union.”
“Thank you,” the girl says, sneering at me.
“Calee was my wife for a time,” Raymond says. “But our union was not blessed. God did not see fit to bless us with children. Now, she's one of the Fruitless.”
Rachel looks me up and down, clearly unimpressed with what she sees.
“My love,” Raymond purrs to her, making my skin crawl even more. “I need to speak with Calee alone. Please see to the children at the schoolhouse, if you would please.”
She gives him a beatific smile and curtsies. The girl actually curtsied to Raymond. It's a struggle to keep from rolling my eyes or acting out in some way.
“Of course, husband,” she says. “It would please me greatly to make you happy.”
He leans down and kisses the top of her head. “And you do make me happy, sweet one,” he says. “Now, go in God's grace.”
We both stand there watching the girl trot off toward the schoolhouse – he with a look of desire on his face, me with a look of repulsion on mine. I managed to get myself back under control and a neutral expression back on my face by the time Raymond turned back to me.
“May God bless you both,” I say demurely.
“I wonder if you'd be so good as to accompany me into town this morning?” Raymond asked.
“Accompany you into town?” I ask.
He nods and smiles warmly. “That is what I believe I asked, yes.”
“But – why?” I ask. “Why do you want me to go into town with you?”
A dark look crosses his face, but like a cloud quickly passing over the face of the sun, is gone in an instant. He maintains his smile and warm, friendly demeanor. Like I said, he's a chameleon and believes he can be all things to all people. And for the most part, when it comes to this cult, he is.
But I've changed. I'm no longer that broken little doll he can move around and manipulate. Not anymore. Though, I can't let him know or see that.
The invitation to go into town with him though, scares me. He hasn't acknowledged my existence or spoken to me in months. Why now? He reaches out and puts a hand gently on my shoulder, giving me a squeeze that's meant to be reassuring and it's all I can do to keep from shuddering with disgust and shrugging it off.
“It occurs to me that I've lost touch with you, my child,” he says smoothly. “We used to be in love, Calee. And now, we haven't even spoken in a long while.”
A state of affairs I'd really like to maintain because just looking at you is enough to make me want to throw up, I think to myself.
“No, we haven't spoken in some time and I've felt emptier for it,” I say, giving him the expected response – the response that would feed his ego and make him happy.
“Well, I'd like to correct that,” Raymond says.
Keeping my eyes downcast, I nod. “I would enjoy that.”
“Good,” he says, clapping his hands. “Then, shall we go?”
“Now?” I ask. “But the laundry –”
“Will still be here when you return,” he says. “That's what I like about you, Calee. Your dedication to your work. God says much about a good work ethic, as you know.”
“I know,” I reply.
I let him guide me to a black SUV that sits near the gates of the compound idling. One of Raymond's Shepherds – a man named Harold – holds the rear door open for me. I give him a look, my stomach roiling and tried to shake off the feeling that something very bad is about to happen to me.
I clear my throat and get into the back of the SUV and Harold closes the door after me. Raymond gets in on the other side, sitting next to me in the back while Harold slides behind the wheel. My anxiety and paranoia are in overdrive as the SUV pulls out through the gates and heads for town. I have no idea what is going on or why Raymond is taking such a sudden interest in me.
“So, Calee,” Raymond says. “How are you doing?”
“I'm well,” I say, keeping my eyes averted. “Thank you for asking.”
“Of course,” he replies. “You are one of my flock and I fear I haven't done a good enough job of making sure my whole flock is doing well. Feeling appreciated and loved. You are feeling loved, aren't you Calee? You're feeling the love of God in your life?”
“I feel the love of God in everything, everyday,” I say. “Thank you.”
“Excellent,” he says. “I'm thrilled to hear that.”
The trip to town is short – the Ark only sits a few miles away from the heart of Elk Plains. Harold pulls to a stop near the curb and gets out, opening my door for me. I slip out and immediately lower my eyes as I've been taught to do. Raymond falls into step beside me and we walk down the street with Harold following close behind.
We wander through the farmer's market and Raymond picks up a few things – fruits and vegetables mostly. He tries to make normal, everyday conversation with me. The way he's acting not only creeps me out, but it's making the warning bells in my head go off long and loud. None of this makes any sense to me and the longer I don't know what's happening, the more concerned I get.
“Hey, come with me,” Raymond says. “I want to show you something.”
I let Raymond lead me down a side street, the warning bells growing louder and louder in my mind. Up ahead, I can see police and emergency vehicles parked on the Mercy Bridge and a feeling of dread overwhelms me.
“What's going on?” I ask, my mouth suddenly dry.
“I don't know,” Raymond says. “Let's go and find out.”
He exchanges an odd look with Harold that sends a cold shiver down my spine. I don't know what's going on, but I have the distinct feeling that the both of them do. And that this whole episode is nothing but a show for me.
“Sorry folks, the bridge is closed,” says an officer stationed at the barricade.
“What's going on, officer?” Raymond asks.
The cop looks behind him – probably to make sure nobody is within earshot. People in this town love to gossip – even the cops. Looking back at Raymond, the cop's face is grim.
“Murder,” he says, pitching his voice low. “They're fishing the body out of the river now.”
“Murder?” Raymond asks, his voice colored with shock. “How terrible.”
“Tell me about it,” he says. “First murder in almost three years in this town.”
The knots in my stomach are tightening painfully and I feel like I might be sick. I don't know who it is they're fishing out of the river. There's no possible way I could know. But somehow, I know all the same. My head is spinning and my body is trembling.
“What happened?” Raymond asks the cop.
The cop looks around again before turning back to us. “Victim took four bullets – two in the chest, two in the head.”
“Awful,” Raymond replies. “What is this world coming to? Do you know who the poor soul is? I'd like to include him in our prayers back at the Ark.”
“Danny Miller,” the cop replies.
I look up and find Raymond looking directly at me. His eyes lock on to mine and hold them – and I find myself powerless to look away. He knows. He knows everything. I can see it in the way he's looking at me. In the cruel twist of his mouth and the hardened look in his eyes.
Tears well in my eyes and I feel my knees grow weak, suddenly unable to support me. I feel myself falling, see the darkness creeping in at the corners of my vision, and let myself surrender to it. But then I feel a pair of strong arms around me. Holding me up. A rough, calloused hand is slapping my face.
“Stay with me, Calee,” Raymond says. “Stay with me, sweetheart.”
I come back to myself and realize that I'm in Harold's arms. He's carrying me like a child and I'm looking straight into Raymond's face – though I feel like I'm looking into the face of the Devil himself.
“The poor dear,” Raymond says to the cop. “The excitement of it all must be a little too much for her. I think I should take her back to the Ark so she can get some rest.”
“That's probably a good idea,” the cop replies.
I want to say something. Want to tell the cop to arrest Raymond for Danny's murder. Want to tell him to save me because my life is in danger. But when I open my mouth to speak, nothing comes out. My mouth is dry, my head is pounding, and I have no words at all.
I watch the rescue crews hauling Danny up from the river. I see his limp, lifeless body hanging in the harness like a rag doll. The tears roll down my cheeks and I'm powerless to stop them.
As Harold carries me away, I look over at Raymond who is giving me a predatory smile that borders on sinister, the expression on his face triumphant.