Starbird Murphy and the World Outside (25 page)

“Whusup,” he said.

“You need to stop kissing me because I need to go to history club. Call me later,” Rory said, waving him off.

“Keep your phone on,” he said, walking the other way.

When he was halfway down the hall, she said, “We have nothing to talk about, but he is such a hot kisser.” Then we walked on to Teacher Ted's room.

 
 

Alex, Danny, and Jake were all there, chairs already in a circle. Teacher Ted walked in right after us and said, “Cake!” He was holding a plate over his head with a third of a chocolate cake on top. “Leftover from one of the secretaries' birthday parties in the staff room.” He put it on his desk with a stack of napkins. “Kevin is absent today. Let's get going on questions.” Ted handed index cards to Jake to pass out, and Rory and I sat down.

This time I came armed with my inquiry. In fact, I knew exactly what Internet research I wanted to do.

Ted collected the questions. There were two war questions from Danny and Jake, and Alex's question was about the origin of the universe, which Teacher Ted said belonged more in a science club, but that Alex argued was natural history.

Then Ted read, “‘What defines a cult?' That one must belong to Rory.”

Rory shook her head and held out her ring-covered hands. “Area 51.”

“The cult one's mine.”

Teacher Ted's gaze was so penetrating, I felt like a window. “Good question, Starbird. I suggest you refine it to be less provocative and allow for a more nuanced answer. Maybe, ‘What is the origin of the word
cult
?'”

So far, it had been a truly crappy day. Between worrying about Ephraim and what Ben said, I was wracked with anxiety. But as I walked to a computer, I felt a little thrill. I couldn't even mention the word
cult
around the Family. Here, I could not only ask about it, I could also research it. Still, I had to wonder if I could trust what I found out. Could I believe the
answers
I got on the Outside?

When we came back to the group to share, we learned that Area 51 was a huge military base in Nevada that the government lied about and blocked out on maps, flamethrowers were used in World War II, and the word
cult
is a critical term used against a group whose beliefs are considered abnormal or bizarre by mainstream Christians. The anti-cult movement started using it in the 1970s after some new religious groups did crazy, violent things like murder people and commit mass suicide. I found out who Charles Manson was. No wonder our Family was so wounded by the word.

One article quoted a social scientist saying the word demonstrates prejudice, and that labeling a group a “cult” makes people feel safe, because “it creates an imagined barrier between conventional religions and violence, insinuating that only abnormal religious groups take part in violence.” But others said that cults generally involve “charismatic leaders who attract marginalized people into membership and then maintain control over them with brainwashing techniques.”

When I shared my results, Rory said, “What about killing cats? Didn't a lot of cults kill cats?”

“Maybe you could research that question for us next week, Rory, because it's time to pack up,” said Ted. “Starbird, could you stick around for a minute?”

“Dad, chill, I'll be right there. It just ended,” Rory said into her phone as she left, turning to wave at me.

Everyone else filed out and Ted offered me the last piece of chocolate cake. Then he sat back in his chair, put his hands on the back of his head, and said, “So, has the Family heard anything lately from EARTH?”

 23 

T
he henhouse door was open, and I was facing down a coyote. “Why are you asking me that?” I said.
Did Ben tell him?
I was stupid to invite Ben to the café. This would lead back to Beacon House, the café, my legal guardianship, our off-the-grid workers, our school on the Farm. My feet were backing away without me telling them to move.

Ted stood. “I didn't mean to scare you.” He motioned toward two of the classroom chairs.

I kept backing up, almost to the door. I would run down the hall to the closest exit, fire myself like a cannonball toward the bus stop, go home, and confess everything to V. How could I have done this? I was just starting to like history club, to feel like the research was a gift. I had let my guard down. It was so stupid.

“Wait, please. I'm sorry. I was so excited to meet a Family member, I didn't think about how that might sound,” Ted said. “Of course I freaked you out.”

“I don't know what Family you're talking about,” I said. “I need to get home.” I reached behind me for the doorknob, wishing I hadn't let everyone else leave, wishing I had never enrolled in an Outside school. I was like a bug hiding under the safe, wet side of a rock that had just gotten picked up. I turned toward the door and twisted the knob. Almost free.

“Wait, Starbird.” Ted followed me to the door. I stopped but didn't turn around.

“I must have been wrong. I'm sorry. I went to grad school at the University of Washington for sociology and studied a utopian community called the Free Family. Ever since I heard your name, I thought you might be . . . and then your question today. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have assumed.”

“That's okay,” I said, only half turning back to him. “No big deal.”

“My wife says that one of my faults is treating people like history projects.” Ted put his hands in his pockets.

I just stood there.

“Hey, hold on.” Ted went back to his desk. “Since you asked that question about cults today, I have this book you might like.” He ran his finger along the book spines on the shelf behind his desk and pulled one out. He came back to the door and handed me a book titled
Looking for Utopia: Intentional Communities in the United States
. “There's a rich history of utopian societies and alternative family structures in the U.S., with both positive and negative qualities. There's an interesting chapter on the anti-cult movement. It's a great read. I'm sorry again about the question.” Ted frowned. “Every history teacher in Washington probably wants to know more about the Free Family, and I just jumped to a wild conclusion. I was way off base.”

 
 

When I made it back to Beacon House, it was already getting dark outside. Any remaining sightings of our Northwest summer were being blocked out by the curtain of gray that would last until spring. My boots were wet to the laces when I took them off in the foyer. I could hear V and Europa in the kitchen, but I wasn't looking forward to seeing them.

I was ready to confess. I didn't want to be deceitful or keep secrets from my Family. Wouldn't that make me just like Fern Moon? I had showed Ben the café's books and now one of my teachers was asking questions about the Family. I'd let an Outsider in too far, and now there was no telling what could happen. I left my book bag in the hall and plucked up my courage to talk to V. I was just going to have to take the heat.

“The doctors think it's severe pneumonia,” V said as soon as she saw me. She was chopping up beets on our kitchen island, and Europa was stirring something in a metal pan on the stove. “They're keeping him longer because he may have problems with his liver. The alcoholism left a scar.” V cut through a beet that leaked a red stain all over the cutting board.

“We're not canceling Story Night,” Europa said, as Kale ran into the kitchen from the living room with her horse in hand. “Ephraim insisted.”

V wiped the beet juice from her hands onto a towel and walked over to me. “Thank you so much for getting those paychecks out.” She put a hand on each of my arms. “I don't know how I would be doing this without you.” Her eyes blossomed with tears. She put her arms around me and let three choked sobs release into my hair.

I held her and rubbed her back while she cried. I decided it wasn't the best time to mention Ben or Teacher Ted.

 
 

Cham was out with his friends, but Io made it home from Red Light in time for dinner. There was a missing note in our conversation where Ephraim's booming tenor should have been. V started crying again halfway through her corn soup and had to leave the table. No one was finding it easy to make conversation. I was relieved when the doorbell rang and Paul and Devin showed up with instruments in hand. They had brought their mother, Seta, who walked spritely with a cane to the nearest chair. Penniah and Adlai arrived soon after, with Dathan and Sapphira.

V came back downstairs and Penniah started asking her questions about Ephraim's condition, leading V to a third round of tears.

Europa leaned over to me and whispered, “Ephraim was practically V's father after Mercury went to live in the tree house.”

“He was?”

“She told me that EARTH brought her here as a baby and Ephraim raised her. Mercury was out of his mind with grief over V's mother. Apparently, EARTH had to convince Mercury that he couldn't raise a baby living in a tree.”

I looked at V again. She seemed so strong to me, even when she was sobbing. Devin put his arms around her and whispered in her ear.

Sapphira and Kale linked arms and danced around me, telling me I was in jail. Dathan ran a circle from the living room through the dining room to the kitchen and back, until Paul ambushed him and hung him upside down from his ankles as he squirmed and giggled.

The madness was finally interrupted by Adlai, who said, “Since Ephraim's not here, someone from Beacon House should probably announce Story Night.”

The traditional words spoken at the start of Story Night were,
Thank you for coming together tonight, Family
. It generally fell on one of the older members of the hosting household to say them. Even though Europa was technically older, all eyes seemed to gravitate toward V, who was still wiping black eyeliner from the ridges of her cheekbones.