“Hey, Sara, where are you going?”

I was just coming out of the dining hall when Bastian caught up with me. I had cleaned up from lunch and was planning to tend to the garden for a bit before my one-on-one meeting with Pastor Carter.

It was a lovely day. Full of sunshine and warmth. Summer had finally arrived on the mountain and I for one was glad of it.

Winter was my least favorite time at The Retreat and it felt that year it had lasted longer than usual. The mountain held onto the cold and it felt as though I could never get warm enough. It snowed often and I hated the short days. Pastor said we should find joy in all of the seasons for God provides them as tests and challenges. As a means to grow and blossom.

It was hard to be spiritual when my toes felt as though they were going to fall off.

I had learned to enjoy the warm months while they lasted.

I didn’t have much time before I was expected at the solarium, so I planned to plant new vegetables in the garden. I spent as much time as I could there. It was the place I felt the most joy. Not the painful kind.

The kind that took away all black thoughts.

Our days were structured and routinized to such a degree that free time was a rare concept. Especially once you were old enough to assume more responsibilities. And today I was blessed with an hour that was well and truly mine.

I hadn’t exactly expected company though.

And Bastian’s presence beside me felt jarring in ways I didn’t want to think about.

I hadn’t seen much of him after our talk at the cliff. It had been three weeks since he and David had arrived at The Retreat. I had made a promise to myself, to Pastor Carter, to keep an eye on him. I was supposed to make sure that a wolf hadn’t found its way into our flock. But when he wasn’t with David, he seemed to keep mostly to himself.

He woke up every morning and joined us at the Sun’s Morning Blessing. He sat silently during Daily Devotional. He ate his meals beside David. He read the scriptures. He helped the men fix broken siding on the houses. He cleaned out gutters. He went into the forest to collect firewood.

But he still felt apart from everyone. As if, regardless of the way he seemed to be acclimating to our way of life, he still judged it. He still regarded us with disbelief and insincerity.

As if he still dreamed of the outside. Longed for a life far away from here…

And that was dangerous. For all of us. But I worried for me most of all.

Bastian’s brother was another story. David seemed to be throwing himself into The Gathering’s ways. Pastor included him in Morning Prayer Circle, usually reserved for the elders and select disciples. He was tasked with building new tables for the dining hall, a job he appeared to enjoy. He was becoming a part of our family. He and Bobbie spent time together and seemed to have developed something of a friendship. Gail, one of the oldest members, made him extra flaxseed cookies when he commented how much he liked them.

He was still quiet. Talked very little. Kept his eyes down. His shoulders still hunched and burdened. But he was there. He was present. He was devout. And my brothers and sisters embraced him as we embraced all our new sheep.

Not so much for Bastian. No one spoke to him much. Minnie stopped trying to engage in her useless flirting. The only person he sought out was me. And I avoided him as much as possible.

The brothers were very different.

I kept expecting one day to wake up and Bastian to be gone. Sent to The Refuge.

Or having walked away from all of us.

“I was on my way to the garden,” I replied shortly, quickening my stride.

“I’ll tag along if that’s okay.” He hurried to catch up with me.

“Suit yourself,” I muttered, wishing I could ignore him. But I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me.

“Maybe you could show me how to garden. You said you would,” he reminded me.

“If you want.”

“Why do I get the feeling you don’t like me very much?” he asked, half-jokingly.

“I don’t know enough about you one way or another to decide if I like you or not,” I snapped.

“Do you want to get to know me, Sara?” he asked, his voice going husky in a way that made my belly flutter a little. I knew he was teasing, but I didn’t quite know how to deal with flirting. I had never really done it before.

It was something other girls in other places did. Not me. Not the disciple. Not Pastor’s chosen one.

“No, not really.” I felt awkward. And maybe a little foolish.

“Wow, Sara, tell me how you really feel,” Bastian laughed. I liked the sound of it. It came from deep down. I hated that I liked it.

“I just did,” I replied.

Bastian snorted. “You don’t get sarcasm, do you?”

“I get a lot of things, Bastian. More than you think,” I retorted, feeling the need to defend myself. “Now come on. I don’t have much time,” I sniffed. Unmoved. Unconcerned.

I covered my discomfort well.

“You’re always in a rush. I don’t get why we have to be in a hurry all the time,” he complained.

I opened the small metal gate to the fenced off garden. Anne’s father, Vince and Miriam were watering some of the plants in the far corner. Miriam lifted her hand in greeting. I did the same but made a point not to get too close, otherwise I’d be forced into polite conversation. And I wasn’t in the mood. Not with Bastian Scott on my heels.

I headed to the small patch of dirt reserved for the tomato plants. I wanted to start seeding and tilling the soil. I had planned to plant some cucumbers and peppers as well.

“I’m not in a hurry. My time is scheduled. We live by routine and punctuality here if you hadn’t noticed. Pastor says it shows obedience and respect,” I responded, reaching down to the base of a dead tomato plant and pulling it out of the ground.

“It doesn’t sound very peaceful having every moment of your life accounted for,” Bastian criticized, sitting down on the ground beside me. He began to pull wilting leaves from the plants that had been left over from the last growing season, obviously not knowing what he was doing.

I swatted his hand away with a cluck of my tongue. “Not like that. Have you never gardened before?”

Bastian shrugged. “I have a long, complicated history with gardening.”

Was he teasing again?

He grinned at me. Yes, he was definitely teasing. I rolled my eyes. “God forbid you exhibit patience in anything.”

“Are you judging me, Sara?” Bastian raised an eyebrow.

I puffed up indignantly. “I don’t judge anyone. It’s not my place to judge. That’s up to God.”

Bastian put his hand on my arm and I felt as though my skin were on fire. “I was joking, Sara. Don’t have a coronary.”

“I’m not having a coronary,” I muttered.

“So, what am I doing wrong then?” he asked, plucking a few more leaves off the tomato plant.

“That’s a waste of time. You’ll be here all day. Pull the whole plant up. Like this.” I demonstrated what to do. “It’s not that hard.” I dropped the dead tomato plant on a pile of rotting vegetation that I would need to take to the compost heap. “And having consistency in your day is very peaceful, just so you know,” I added, still needing to argue the point.

Bastian ripped up a tomato plant with a little more zeal than was required. “Monotony is kinda boring, you know.”

“There’s nothing monotonous about preparing your soul,” I barked, raising my voice. I noted Miriam and Vince shooting curious looks in our direction, whispering together. Gossip was a malevolent serpent within our family. It was sinful but most indulged in telling stories about their fellow disciples to those who would hear about it. There wasn’t much that happened, that others weren’t immediately aware of.

The feeling of being watched was strong. Particularly with Bastian beside me. I smiled sweetly. “Maybe you need to spend more time praying then. Clearly your soul is in need of quite a bit of work.”

“Do you ever think about what you’re missing by praying all day?” he asked pulling up another plant.

“No. I do not. Because I have everything I need here. I’m not missing anything,” I replied shortly.

“Spoken like a woman who has never experienced anything,” he shot back, though not unkindly.

“Wow, Bastian. Tell me how you really feel,” I parroted him and Bastian laughed again. I found I liked it when he laughed. It was a lot better than when I felt him judging me.

“Nice one, Sara. Maybe you have a sense of humor after all.”

I put a hand on my hip. “I’ll have you know, I can be very funny.”

Bastian smirked. “I’m sure you’re a riot, Sara. With all your praying and bowing and scrapping.”

“If you hold what we do in such contempt, why don’t you leave?” I retorted, my annoyance raring to life again.

“I’m here because I want to be.” He pulled up another plant, refusing to look at me.

“It’s hard to tell,” I said, tugging at the roots, ripping them out of the ground.

Bastian was quiet. No more witty comebacks or sarcastic responses. I waited for another volley and was a bit let down when he didn’t say anything else.

We finished pulling up the tomato plants and when we were finished I pulled out a packet of seeds from my pocket that I had saved from last summer’s planting. “Here. Plant these,” I instructed vaguely. I dumped seeds into his hand.

“Uh, okay. Do I need to dig a hole or something?”

I tried not to look as frustrated as I felt. It was hard around Bastian. He poked a lot of my buttons. “Yes, you need to dig a hole.” I handed him a small hand trowel. “Dig only a couple of inches and plant a seed. Then cover it up and water it. Think you got that?”

Bastian gave me a mock salute. “’Aye, aye captain.”

I didn’t use a trowel. I used my hands to dig into the soft, rich dirt. I liked the feel of it between my fingers. Maybe it was left over from my distant childhood when I had spent hours playing in the mud. Maybe it was some small part of me holding onto that girl I once was.

“My mom loves her garden. She spends a lot of time on her flower beds. She tried to get David and me to help her out when we were kids. She gave up pretty quickly when David tried to feed me worms,” Bastian chuckled, patting the dirt over the seeds he planted.

“Is this part of that long, complicated history?” I asked.

Bastian let out a world-weary sigh. “Yes. It was all quite traumatic.”

“Eating worms would be.” I made a face and Bastian was smiling again.

“I didn’t actually eat worms. David tried though. It ended with me throwing mulch in his face and him chasing me around the back yard. Mom got so mad.” Bastian grinned at the memory. “Typical boy stuff. We drove her nuts though. We weren’t allowed to garden with her after that.”

I smiled in spite of myself. “I can imagine.”

“David was always the sporty one. Always full of energy. I was the one happy enough to stay inside painting or drawing. I don’t know what made Mom decide to try gardening with us. We weren’t the make it grow types.”

“David was the energetic one? I can’t see that,” I remarked in surprise.

Bastian’s face clouded over. “Yeah, well that was before he went to Afghanistan.” I could tell by his tone that it was a touchy subject.

“How long was he over there?” I asked. I knew about Afghanistan and what happened there. Pastor often used it as a depiction of how awful the world had become. How degraded and corrupt and morally reprehensible it could be. I couldn’t fathom what horrors David saw there.

“He was enlisted for over three years. He was discharged before Christmas.” Bastian’s jaw tightened.

“Do you mind me asking what happened to him? He seems so—”

“Destroyed? A shell of a person?” Bastian interrupted, words like broken glass.

“I was going to say sad,” I responded softly.

Bastian sighed. “It’s been a roller coaster since he’s been back. Getting bits and pieces about what went on. From what I’ve gleaned from Mom and Dad, there was a mission. Dave was an Army Ranger, you see, so the mission was covert. Super secret. He won’t talk about it and the military won’t give us much information. Only that it went wrong. They ended up walking into a minefield. Most of Dave’s platoon was blown to pieces. David survived. There was some question about his behavior in the field. They say he had mental health issues that led to questionable decision making. It’s a bunch of bullshit. David never had any issues when he was home. Never depressed. No erratic behavior. In fact, he was the logical one. He would think through every single decision before acting. He could take an hour to deliberate on what milk to buy based on fat content and lactose levels.” Bastian shook his head, his brow furrowed. “Basically, that was the Army’s excuse for sending him home and taking away his benefits. He’s been treated like the enemy. It’s completely ruined him.” He was angry. And rightly so. It sounded as if David had been treated horribly.

“I’m so sorry he’s been through that,” I said sincerely.

“Yeah, me too.” Bastian clenched his hands into fists. It looked as if he wanted to hit something.

I reached out to touch him, to comfort him, but then thought better of it. “Sometimes people go through things and it can break them. Or it can make them stronger. We just have to help David find his way through it. And I know he can. There has to be a strength inside him to have survived all that and still get up in the morning.”

Something relaxed in Bastian’s face. Then it was his hand reaching for me. A brief second of physical contact. His palm over mine. Then it was gone. “Thank you, Sara. That’s most hopeful thing I’ve heard since he’s come home.”

His eyes grew soft and I became acutely aware of how close we were. Our knees pressed together. The wind blew my hair, sweeping it across his cheek. I could see the brown flecks in his blue eyes and how long his eyelashes were. Up close, he was sort of spectacular.

It was too much. Too close. I quickly buried my fingers in the soil again.

“You said before you’re an artist. What sort of things do you draw?” I asked, changing the subject. Bastian gave me a look that was too piercing. Too perceptive. But he allowed me to move us past the moment we had been having.

“I’m an ink guy. I like drawing people. And weird fantasy art I guess. But I dabbled in anime last year. A buddy of mine talked me into helping me create a manga series. It was total shit, but I had fun doing it. It was something different for me.”

“Manga?” I asked, not understanding.

“Japanese comics. It’s drawn in a particular style. Have you never seen any anime? It’s been popular for years. Sailor Moon? Come on, you have to know Yu-Gi-Oh! or Ben 10.”

I snapped my fingers. “Wait, I do know Yu-Gi-Oh! I had a neighbor when I was a little kid that was obsessed with that show! His name was Tyler.” I hadn’t thought about Tyler in years. I couldn’t believe I remembered his love of Yu-Gi-Oh! at all. I was ridiculously pleased to be able to contribute to the conversation. I was growing tired of him making me feel completely ignorant. “So that’s called anime?”

Bastian’s eyes sparkled. “Yeah, that’s anime. My friend Eric had this stupid idea for a comic that involved a warrior rabbit and his best friend who was a girl with purple spiked hair named Dona. It was like some weird acid trip. Absolutely ridiculous.”

I didn’t know what he meant by an acid trip but I laughed anyway. “I think I’d like to read this comic. Sounds funny.”

Bastian seemed pleased with my reaction. “Yeah? Well it sucked. Trust me.” He said it almost wistfully.

“You miss being there, don’t you?” I deduced. I was pretty adept at reading people. You become competent in understanding the nonverbal hints others gave away when you lived a life mostly in silence. And Bastian wasn’t very good at hiding his emotions. He hadn’t learned that particular skill yet.

And I realized that I didn’t want him to.

It was refreshing being around someone that displayed their feelings so openly.

Even if it wasn’t in his best interest to do so.

Bastian shrugged. “I’m here, so it doesn’t matter.”

He sounded sad. It tugged at a part of me that cared what he felt.

“What’s it like? Going to college?” I was curious. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about what going to college would be like. It was a useless waste of energy. That’s not where my head needed to be. But being around Bastian, someone who had lived that particular life, brought out an interest I never knew I had.

Bastian dug another hole in the ground. “I don’t know. It’s like going to high school but without living with your parents and having to do your own grocery shopping. And there’s way more homework.”

I didn’t bother pointing out that I didn’t even know what going to high school was like.

“Sounds difficult,” I commented, keeping my eyes on the ground. My fingers in the dirt.

“It is and it isn’t. Living on your own takes some adjustment. You have to figure out how to take care of yourself and get your work done while not dying of alcohol poisoning in the process.”

“Is it hard? Not dying of alcohol poisoning?” It sounded awful.

Bastian snorted. “Harder for some than others.”

“I’ve never had any alcohol,” I admitted. I felt immature. Naïve. Bastian seemed so worldly. I wanted to hear everything he had to say while simultaneously wishing he’d shut up.

Bastian didn’t seem surprised. “Figured as much.”

“There’s some here though,” I admitted in a hushed voice, looking to Vince and Miriam in case I was overheard. I felt as though I were sinning. As if I were sharing something I shouldn’t.

But…

Bastian’s eyes widened. “Really? No way.” He sounded as though he didn’t believe me.

“We do. Pastor Carter keeps some here to remind us of the temptations we face in life. To reinforce our will. To remind us that a pure, faithful path is better than sin.”

Bastian rolled his eyes. “Come on. That sounds like some prohibition crap. It’s not 1920, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied testily.

“What I mean is enjoying yourself isn’t a sin. If you keep things in moderation and not let it take over your life, a beer now and then isn’t the end of the world.”

The end of the world…

If he only knew.

“Well, a sin is a sin,” I retorted primly.

“And you’ve never wanted to try it? Just a little taste?” Bastian goaded, his pretty eyes twinkling mischievously.

“No, never,” I lied.

Because I had thought about it. I wondered why it was so awful. Why we were told it was wrong.

“Where is it?” he asked.

I stiffened. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. “Never mind. Forget I mentioned it.” The tone of my voice was meant to shut the topic down.

Bastian clearly picked up on the hint.

“It’s probably for the best you haven’t been drunk. One time I thought it would be awesome to take five shots of tequila and get a tattoo. It cost me almost five hundred bucks to have Danger Mouse removed from my ass.”

I laughed. Loud and surprised. I saw Vince and Miriam glance our way. Again curious. I covered my mouth. Trying to stop the sound before it escaped again.

“Danger Mouse? On your…butt?”

Bastian snickered. “It was huge too. And really badly done. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“I kind of wish I could have seen it,” I giggled.

Bastian raised an eyebrow and leaned in close to me. “If you want to see my…butt…you can just ask.”

He was flirting again. I didn’t know what to do with it. With him. My tongue felt too big for my mouth. My hands clumsy.

My face flamed hot and I had to clear my throat. Everything felt so close. So confined. Even outside in the open.

Bastian chuckled to himself and shrugged. “I may have regretted it, but it makes for a fun story.”

“I guess so.” We smiled at each other. I realized I liked his stories. They were interesting. Like him.

“Well, I think I’ve planted all the seeds,” he said, patting the dirt with his hand. He wiped his hands on his jeans. He was still wearing clothes from the outside. I found myself a little jealous of his soft cotton shirt and worn blue jeans. I smoothed the itchy skirt I was wearing. It wasn’t particularly nice. It was made from mismatched material leftover from other people’s clothing. I had patched it together crudely when I was running low on things to wear.

What I wouldn’t give for a pair of jeans and nice shirt…

That was vanity talking. Satan whispering in my ear, tempting me with thoughts I shouldn’t have.

I suddenly felt chilled from the inside out.

I liked talking to Bastian. It was easy. Natural. I liked the stories he had to tell. The things he shared.

But he twisted me up inside too. His pictures of a life before The Retreat were intriguing. I could only remember my own life in bits and pieces. Snippets of memories that floated in and out of my head without substance. It had been too long since I had lived off the mountain. The truth was the idea of what was out there terrified me. I had been told it was a dark, horrible place where people murdered each other and no one was safe.

But Bastian’s stories didn’t mention horrible things. They made him happy. They made me smile. I wanted to know more about his version of the outside. What it was like beyond the gate.

And I shouldn’t be thinking like that.

Pastor had warned us that temptation could seep in without notice. Satan would use our natural curiosity to undo us. To force us from our path.

Perhaps Bastian was my test.

I was frightened I’d fail.

“I think you’re done then,” I told him, my voice cold and sharper than I meant it to be. “You should probably see if anyone else needs help. I believe Stafford and Bobbie mentioned fishing today. Maybe you can go with them.” I was being dismissive.

I needed him to leave.

“I don’t mind staying here and helping you,” he said, watching me. Too closely.

“I have to meet with Pastor Carter. So, you go on.” I got to my feet, picking up the gardening tools and putting them away. Putting distance between us.

“Did I do something, Sara? I thought we were enjoying ourselves,” Bastian asked, following me to the small shed on the far side of the fenced in garden.

I turned to face him. My expression hard. “I think if you’re going to live at The Retreat, you need to stop thinking about what happened before. Your focus should be on what happens now. On your path.”

Bastian’s brow furrowed. “Why? What’s wrong with talking about that stuff?”

I felt myself get indignant. Righteous. “Out there is full of wickedness. It’s full of sin. Here, we are living a faithful life. We can’t have the outside tainting what we have at The Retreat. What The Gathering is trying to achieve.”

Bastian backed up, as if taken aback by my vehemence.

“See, that’s where I’m struggling with what you guys are doing here. You can’t shut out the world. You can’t think that by removing yourself you can escape human nature. It’s all around you, Sara. It’s the dark, beating heart in all of us. Maybe you need to look a little closer. See what’s right in front of your face.” He sounded angry. It seemed I had pushed a button.

“All we want is to pray and live God’s plan for us,” I argued.

“If God’s plan means hiding away in the mountains while the rest of the world gets to live, then I think I’d be questioning things more,” Bastian replied through clinched teeth.

“We’re not hiding—”

“Yes, you are. That’s exactly what you’re doing. But why? What do you need to be protected from? Or maybe you need to ask yourself what it is that you don’t want the rest of the world to see,” Bastian countered.

I felt flustered. I wasn’t used to such combativeness. That wasn’t our way. We were all here because we believed in Pastor’s ways. Believed in the life he built for us.

All of us but Bastian.

“The world isn’t all bad, Sara. It really isn’t. There’s so much good. So much beauty. And you’re missing all of it,” he said softly.

Sadly.

As if it broke his heart.

Yet, I didn’t believe him.

I wouldn’t.

If I thought for just one minute anything he said was true…

Something started to crack inside me. I couldn’t stop it.

Once it began to shatter, there would be no putting it back together again.

No!

“Stop talking like that. If you want to stay you need to get rid of those thoughts. You need to stay quiet,” I warned him. Upset and angry, I felt myself begin to shake.

“I’m meant to be an obedient robot like the rest of you. Got it,” Bastian said frostily. His eyes weren’t warm now. They were conflicted. Hurt even.

“We are not robots, Bastian. We simply want to live our lives away from judging eyes.” I glared at him pointedly. “Why are you even saying these things to me? Why are you talking to me at all?” I demanded, my breath coming out as panicked puffs of air.

Bastian looked as though I had slapped him. “Because I thought you cared and weren’t simply giving me lip service. Because you seem real. You were the one who made him open the gate, Sara. You were the one who let me stay with my brother. I won’t forget that.”

“I didn’t let you do anything. I had nothing to do with you being allowed to stay. That was Pastor—”

“It was you, Sara. He would have taken David and I would never have seen him again. You know it. I know it. But you asked him to let me in. You could see how much I needed to stay with my brother.” Bastian reached out as if to touch me. As if physical contact would drive his point home. I dodged his grasp. I stumbled backwards, throwing up my hands as if fending off an attack.

“You need to stop talking like this. We live quietly here. With one purpose. You can’t come here messing with that purpose.” I sounded panicked.

“I’m trying to understand what you’re doing here. What all of you are doing here. I just thought there was more to you than the rest of them. That you could see more—”

“Please, stop.” It came out as a plea. A desperate appeal for him to keep his thoughts to himself.

Bastian’s mouth twisted as if in pain. Then he nodded. He stared at me for a long second. His blue eyes so, so sad. Then, without saying another word, he left me alone in the shed.

Left me alone with his words ringing in my ears. Drilling holes in my head with their insidious intent.

The world isn’t all bad…

There’s so much good…

It was all lies.

It had to be.

Maybe you need to ask yourself what it is that you don’t want the rest of the world to see...