The Chosen One (7 page)

“Bring words from the Infidel,” Prophet Childs said. “And I will bring you truth. I will lead you to Heaven.”

Father and all the mothers from my family brought our stuff, too. Fathers and mothers from other families. Children. Teenagers. Me. We threw the books. The fire ate them up in moments.

Laura was five when this happened. She threw in all her Dr. Seuss books. And cried the whole time. Me, I was dancing and singing with The Chosen Ones, but Laura, she cried.

Seeing her crying, I felt like
I
was doing something wrong.

I went to Laura, took her hand, and held back the worn copy of
Hop on Pop
. I had learned to read from this book. So had she.

“We’ll hide this,” I said. Smoke filled the air. Cries of joy. The voice of the Prophet.

But Father saw us.

“Burn it,” he said.

I held the book behind me. “Let her keep just this one,” I said.

Father knelt in front of us. “These are the Devil’s words,” he said. “You heard what the Prophet said. We must obey.”

“Just this one,” I said. I put my arms around his neck, whispered in his ear. “Just this one for Laura. She loves it.”

I remember I was as hot on the inside as I felt on the outside.

“Just this one,” Laura said, draping her arms around Father’s neck, too. “Please.”

Father hesitated. Then he shook his head.

“Throw it,” he said to Laura.

And crying, she did.

“Good for you,” Father said. He pulled Laura close. “God will bless you,” he said. “God sees what you have done,” he said. “I’ll let the Prophet know your heart,” he said.

Father looked at me. Looked at the fire. He seemed so sad. “Kyra,” he said, “you must be obedient.”

I remembered all this, the fire hot on my face, the laughter of The Chosen Ones as they danced around the flames, Laura’s tears. I remembered all this in the Ironton County Mobile Library on Wheels van and that afternoon I borrowed
Amazing Gracie
from Patrick and left
Fox in Socks
for his little boy Nathan.

WALKING UP TO THE COMPOUND
, I see everything in a new way. I’ve never been truly afraid here, and today, I am. I wonder who knows where I’ve been. I wonder who knows the pronouncement. I wonder if Father is back.

In slow motion, I walk on toward my home. From outside the fence I can see men working the land. Can see some of the different families’ clotheslines, hanging sheets and quilts, dresses and pants, baby things.

The Temple with the Eye watching me, it is a grand building in the light of the afternoon. As I pass through the gates, I see three men in dark suits, even in this heat, sunglasses on as they step from the darkness of the Temple into the afternoon. The God Squad. They’re here to protect. The Prophet. Us. The grounds. But seeing them, I’m struck with fear.

“Joshua,” I say. I want to run, but I make myself walk in through the gates and on toward home. Like I always do.
Amazing Gracie
sweaty against my belly.

This isn’t the first time that the God Squad has seen me coming home. Brother Simmons used to greet me when I was little and sometimes gave me a red licorice when I came back.

He’s been gone a long time.

When Mother Sarah was young, there was no problem moving around outside our community. But in the last few years, with a Day of Cleansing that happens every few months, things are different.

I’ve always walked like this, since I was little, with others walking with me, until a few years ago when I walked alone.

But now.

Now it’s dangerous for people to notice.

Joshua has seen me walking toward Patrick and the Ironton County Mobile Library on Wheels, even if he doesn’t know that’s where I’ve gone. He’s told me he’s watched me walking for years.

Does that mean other people have seen, too?

Have they seen me go?

I’ve been leaving the Compound forever, since I could almost walk.

With Mother Sarah and Father first.

With Emily.

Then with Laura.

Then alone.

Walking past the fence.

Walking down the red dirt road. A washboard road.

Walking to nowhere, then turning around and coming back.

Are they so used to me walking the distance,

outside our fences,

where somehow the air smells different,

are they so used to my walking

that they don’t notice anything more?

My heart thumps as I walk past the God Squad. Brother Adamson nods at me, then turns away. I let out a slow breath of air. Squinch my eyes at the light. Walk when I want to run. First to my tree to hide my book in the leafy branches. And then home.

Where my father waits for me.

II

As soon as I see his face
, as soon as I see Mother’s face, I know that Father’s request has been denied. They sit together on the sofa. None of my sisters are near. They must be at another Mother’s house.

I fall on my knees at Father’s feet. “I can’t do it,” I say. “Father, I can’t.”

He says nothing, just places his hands on my head. He smooths my hair. I hear my mother begin to cry.

And just like that, there’s a knock at the door.

“Please don’t make me.” I crawl up on the sofa next to him. He wraps his arms around my shoulders. Kisses my forehead. Mother answers the door.

It’s Uncle Hyrum. He is dressed in blue jeans and a long-sleeve shirt. The shirt is buttoned all the way to the top. “Two things,” he says before any of us says a word, holding up his fingers to prove it. “I’m here for two things.”

I think I’ve stopped breathing, but I listen.

“Number one. Sister Kyra. I would like to have you over to dinner. A date so we can get to know each other better. Tomorrow evening.”

He doesn’t even wait for me to answer.

A date?

“And number two, where is the baby from last night?”

Father stands now, loosening his arm from around my shoulders.

“Mariah?” Father says.

“Screaming like that,” Uncle Hyrum says. “And in front of the Prophet. It was too much, Richard. Too much.”

“She’s not even a year old,” Mother Sarah says.

Uncle Hyrum looks at my mother like he could slap her. “Don’t speak, Sister Sarah, unless I’ve spoken to you first.”

Mother says nothing. Looks away from my uncle.

“Get the baby, Sister Kyra. And her mother. You may leave, Sister Sarah.”

“Why?” I say.

He doesn’t answer me, but Father says, “Go.”

And I go.

Mother Claire, mean as she can be, turns white when I tell her Uncle Hyrum wants Mariah. And her.

“Oh no,” she says. “Oh no.”

Mariah is asleep on a blanket in the corner, a small fan turned on her.

“She wouldn’t stop screaming after you left last night,” Mother Sarah says. She bends over, her big belly in her way, and lifts Mariah. “Come here, baby,” she says, her voice gentle.

“What do you mean?” I say.

“I just couldn’t calm her,” Mother Claire says. Her face has gone red now. “No one could. She wanted you.”

We leave Mother Claire’s trailer. I wish I could feel a bit of pride in Mariah’s wanting only me, but this cannot end up good. Not as scared as Mother Claire is.

Mariah has settled back into sleep on her mother’s shoulder.

We go into my home, where Father and Uncle Hyrum stand side by side. I’m not sure where Mother Sarah has gone.

“I saw more than I could bear,” he tells Father. “More than I can bear,” he says to Mother Claire and me and sleeping Mariah.

“She was just tired,” Mother Claire says.

“Do not,” Uncle Hyrum says in such a loud voice that Mariah awakens and begins to whimper, “do not speak to me.”

Father’s hands are clasped and I can see the knuckles are white. Looking at their faces, I can see how these two are related. The same color eyes. The same color hair, same jaw lines. But that is where they change. Uncle Hyrum is a good twenty years older than Father. And a hundred years meaner.

“Strip her down,” Uncle Hyrum says. He talks to me. Me! Father stands near his brother.

At first, I think Uncle Hyrum is talking about Mother Claire. Then I see he means baby Mariah. All the sudden I see he’s here to teach my father to be a better disciplinarian.

“You’re soft, Richard,” Uncle Hyrum says right as I realize why he’s here. “Soft.”

Mariah opens her mouth in a yawn. Rubs at her eyes.

Father says, “Strip her down, Kyra. Do it. Like Hyrum says.”

“Father,” I say. “Please no.”

My father can’t look at me. He doesn’t spank us, like some of the other fathers do. He seldom raises his voice at us. He hugs us, loves us, laughs with us.

“Kyra,” he says after a moment, “please, be obedient. This is an Apostle of the Lord.”

I take Mariah from Mother Claire. I take the baby on my hip. She smiles right at me and reaches for my face.

“Water, Claire,” Uncle Hyrum says. “And ice.”

I take my time removing Mariah’s clothes. My heart thumps.

From the kitchen I can hear Mother Claire filling the tin basin first with ice. Then with water.

“Sweet, baby,” I say. “Sweet Mariah.” I think I’m getting a headache. There’s a pain behind my eyes.

Mariah’s naked in my arms. She pulls at my bottom lip and lets out a gurgle of a laugh.

“Cover her nakedness, Kyra,” Uncle Hyrum says. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down. “You know nakedness is an abomination before God.”

I wrap the baby the best I can in her clothing.

“Take her to her mother,” Uncle Hyrum says.

Mother Claire stands in the doorway now. Water drips from her hands to the linoleum.

I jostle Mariah. “No wait,” I say. “Please.”

“Take her in to Sister Claire,” Uncle Hyrum says.

Mother Claire doesn’t move. Neither do I.

“Claire,” Father says. I can almost not hear him. It’s like his voice and body don’t go together. I see his mouth move, but I don’t hear hardly anything.

Uncle Hyrum grits his teeth so loud it’s like he grinds sand between them.

“She’s quiet now,” Mother Claire says. “Look how good she is.”

“Speak only when I speak to you,” Uncle Hyrum says.

Mariah turns to me. Her eyes go squinty with her smile. Her bottom lip is fat and wet. I lean in to kiss her just as she opens her mouth to laugh again. I catch nothing but air.

“Discipline,” Uncle Hyrum says to Father, “is God’s way to raising righteous children. It’s a way you can move up in leadership. I’ve been telling you this for years, Richard.” He shakes his head as if this is the one thing that has kept Father from advancing with The Chosen Ones.

Words jumble in my head. Panic sets in. I can feel it all along my skin, the panic crawling over me.
If I run right now
, I think, holding Mariah close,
maybe, just maybe, I can catch up to Patrick and the Ironton County Mobile Library on Wheels. And he can drive Mariah and me somewhere, anywhere
. The words tumble in my head as I try them out to see if they’re possible.

Mother Claire holds her hands out to take the baby. They tremble. She won’t look me in the eye. She won’t look Father or Uncle Hyrum in the eye either. She cuddles Mariah to her chest. Her belly supports Mariah’s bare bottom.

“Deliver the punishment,” Uncle Hyrum says. He glances around the room. I don’t know what he’s looking for. Everyone else has been sent away. But I can see by looking at his face that he’s disgusted with my father. His teeth just work. There’s that empty space where his tooth should be. Will he end up spitting ground teeth into his hand? “You do it, Kyra,” Uncle Hyrum says to me.

I look at Father, my eyes wide. Then I shake my head. “Why me?”

“Just do it,” Uncle Hyrum says.

But this, this I will never do. Ever.

“God and our Prophet teach us . . .”

I won’t listen.

“Kyra,” Father says. He touches my arm. “Your uncle is an Apostle of God.”

“I’ve trained my own,” Uncle Hyrum says. “I know the way. God directs. You’ll do this when you are my wife. You’ll do it now.”

Mariah laughs at her mother.

“Take the baby, Kyra,” Uncle Hyrum says. His voice is sharp as a knife. Filled with anger. But I don’t care.

“Administer the punishment,” he says.

“I won’t,” I say.

“No,” I say.

“Never,” I say.

“Claire,” Father says. “You’ll have to.”

Mother Claire’s eyes fill with tears.

“Richard,” she says. In all my life, I’ve never heard her this upset. She’s new to me. “Richard.”

“Please, Claire,” Father says.

Mother Claire covers Mariah’s nose and mouth tight so there’s no leak. Then she dunks Mariah in the cold water bath. All the way under. Holds her there.

Holds her there.

Mariah kicks. That baby struggles.

“Stop!” My voice is a shout. I grab at Mother Claire. Father pulls me back.

“Lift her,” Uncle Hyrum says. I hate him. Right now, I
hate
him.

Mother Claire has tears on her face. I didn’t even know she was crying until she lifts her child.

Mariah’s screams shatter the air.

“Again,” Uncle Hyrum says.

“No!” Am I the only one alive here? Is it just me and this baby?

“And again,” he says.

“Stop it!”

Father holds me with both hands. Keeps me from Mother Claire.

And then, “Enough.”

“Control your family, Richard,” Uncle Hyrum says. He looks right at me. “All of them.” And he leaves without shutting the front door.

“Now, Kyra,” Father says. “Dress the baby. Please.” His voice shakes.

He and Mother Claire, who’s wet all down the front of her dress, stand there quiet. Mother Claire looks at the floor. Tears drip from her face. Her hands are red from the ice water.

I clutch Mariah to me. Her lips are blue. Her crying is just gasps now. She kicks, trying to catch air.

“Father,” I say. “She can’t breathe.”

I pull her cold body to mine. Slap her little back. She’s like a chicken taken from the fridge.