Page 17

17

Lara

“Time to wake up! We all need to be in the meeting tent in fifteen minutes!” a woman I’ve never seen before announces from the doorway to the cabin before walking out.

I look around at my fellow sleepers and watch them jump out of bed like the place is on fire. Bethany gives me a disapproving look as she makes her bed.

“You better get moving, Lara. You don’t want Nadine to see you still in bed.”

For a moment, I consider telling her exactly what I think of Nadine and her damn henchmen, but I keep my mouth shut. I don’t get the sense any of the women in this cabin with me have any issue with Nadine or anything else that goes on here. Why I have no idea. They seemed like such good people that first day, but in no time, they’ve become very comfortable with the ugliness that’s been shown to us since we arrived.

Without responding, I get out of bed and quickly straighten the sheets and cheap brown blanket. None of us say a word as we prepare to go to the meeting tent. This is our first time going there since we joined The Golden Light, so I have no idea what to expect. I’m guessing Micah is going to put on a show, but what that will entail I haven’t a clue.

I look down my body at the dress they gave me yesterday. Boring and tan, it’s perfectly utilitarian. Nobody would ever see me wearing this and want to hit on me. That’s probably the reason for it, though. There don’t seem to be many men here at the farm, and other than Micah, I don’t get the sense any of the others are allowed to even think about us women here.

Then again, I wouldn’t put it past Nadine’s goons to do much more than merely think about women on this farm. They act like they have free reign over everything here, so why not the females? I shudder at the thought of what they do when they decide to bother with us, though.

As I’m thinking that, Nadine walks into the cabin like the ray of sunshine she always is. Every time this person is in front of me, all I can think is she looks like she belongs in some women’s prison ordering beatings of anyone who dares to step out of line.

She immediately focuses on me and says with a huge grin, “You ladies are in for a real treat today. Our leader is at his best when he’s preaching. Hurry up and get ready and meet me outside as soon as you can.”

Nadine seems downright joyful today. Maybe she ran over one of the little children on her way here this morning. I can see that making her as pleased as punch.

Mary catches my attention and gives me a tiny wave. She smiles back at me when I wave at her, and I can’t help but think even in these ugly, tan dresses, she’s beautiful. There’s something about her warm brown hair and blue eyes that make her seem like the girl next door, even in her stupid Golden Light uniform.

As everyone else hurries outside to obey Nadine, Mary stops at the foot of my bed to wait for me. “I’ve been wondering if we’d ever get to see Micah talk. Yesterday at lunch, the women talked about how mesmerizing he is when he preaches. I’m looking forward to this today. Aren’t you?”

I don’t dare tell Mary what I’m really feeling about having to be part of Micah’s captive audience this morning. She’s kind and seems to want to be my friend, but trusting anyone here is a bad move.

So instead, I lie and pretend I’m just as thrilled to see Micah preach his special brand of believing. “I’m thinking it’s going to be very interesting! I’ve spoken to him before, but that was one-on-one. This, I’m sure, is going to be even better!”

If I continue smiling and being this up, someone’s going to mistake me for one of Micah’s cheerleaders. Mary doesn’t pick up on my lying, though, and grabs my hand in her excitement.

“I know! He looked at me when I was walking back from lunch yesterday, and I swear it was like God himself paying attention to me.”

My cheeks hurt from smiling, but if I stop now, she’s going to know I think she’s nuts for what she just said. Comparing Micah to God seems a bit much, but that tells me Mary is pretty much lost to this cult. Too bad. I like her. I’m not going to be happy seeing her walk around in a blind haze like some kind of Stepford wife.

I give her hand a tiny squeeze to make her think I’m just like her. “We better go. We don’t want to be late to our first meeting. I wonder where it’s at. I don’t remember seeing any meeting tent here.”

She thinks about it as we walk outside but doesn’t say anything. It’s odd that I’ve never seen this meeting tent, but then again, maybe it’s something they put up and take down whenever meetings happen. Still, Micah and his people seem to own this farm, so why not leave it up all the time?

Questions like that are why I’m never going to fit in with these people. I doubt Mary or Bethany or any of the others here have even considered something like why the tent doesn’t stay up all the time. Maybe it’s because I write for the magazine, but they don’t seem to question anything here.

Nadine scans the group of us, making sure to glare when her gaze meets mine, and when she sees we’re all here, she waves us on to follow her. “Come on. We don’t want to be late. Micah has some very important things to tell us today.”

As always, a question forms in my mind. What is so important that we needed to wake up and immediately go to listen to him talk without having any breakfast? I guess that’s not the most important meal of the day here.

I obviously keep my thoughts to myself as we follow Nadine. I know better than to look around as we walk through the center of the farm and past Micah’s private quarters, but I’m curious as to where her guards are today. They’re always nearby, so what’s happened to them this morning?

For a few seconds, I revel in the thought that something bad happened to them. I’d especially like something terrible to befall that one who Nash practically had to convince not to hurt me the other day. For him, I have no problem wishing the worst would happen.

Beside me, Mary whispers, “It’s such a beautiful day out, and I had great sleep last night. I’ve never slept as well as I have since I arrived here. What about you?”

I think about it for a few moments and nod. “You know, I don’t know when I’ve slept so well either. It must be all the fresh air we’re getting. Like when I was a kid at summer camp. They’d run us around all day, so when it was time to sleep, we practically collapsed into our beds.”

As I say that, I lower my voice so I don’t get Nadine’s attention. I’d like just one day to not have her focused on me. Not that I wish her to notice anyone else. I don’t think Mary could handle what I went through with her men.

Bastards. They better not do anything to her.

At the back of the farm a white canvas tent appears like it grew out of the land overnight. I’ve seen this area of the compound before, and never once did I see a tent. Strange that they don’t leave it up all the time, but maybe taking it down is someone’s job here. Being productive seems to be a very important part of being in The Golden Light.

Nash stands at the entrance to the meeting tent, and my gut reaction is to smile because I know him. He immediately narrows his eyes, as if to tell me to stop right now. I don’t know why my recognizing him would be a problem, but I tighten my lips so I look miserable and look straight ahead as we pass him on our way inside.

I quickly count ten rows of wooden benches arranged on the grass and a stage maybe a foot high in front of where we’re going to sit. Behind me, women file in and take their seats, but Nadine points at the bench closest to the stage for us. I guess we get a front row seat to Micah’s performance this morning.

Mary nudges my arm as we walk toward where Nadine wants us to sit. I look over at her and see worry in her eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” I ask as we take our seats.

“I’m feeling a little lightheaded,” she whispers. “I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

My instinct is to ask for a cup of water for her, but I quash that as quickly as it enters my mind. Not that it matters. I don’t see any water she could have anyway.

Nadine walks over to us and stops directly in front of Mary. Glaring down at her, she asks, “What’s going on? Are you sick?”

I press my lips together to stop myself from answering for her, and Mary looks up at her and meekly answers, “I think missing breakfast is making me lightheaded. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

To my shock, Nadine pats her gently on the shoulder and smiles as she says, “Oh, not to worry. We’ll be eating something before Micah speaks, so you’ll feel better. I’m sure of it.”

Sure someone has hidden the real Nadine away and replaced her with an actual caring human being, I stare down at my lap to avoid her noticing me at all. The last thing I need is her paying attention to me, even if this is a nicer version of her.

One of the women at the back of the tent announces she’s got delicious cakes and lemonade for everyone, and I feel Mary’s relief practically come off her in waves. She may be better at this obeying business, but she knows as well as I do what happens when you step a toe out of line. I can see by how happy she is now that food is coming that she was afraid.

This place is messed up. A woman feels weak because she hasn’t had breakfast, and she worries she’s doing something wrong. If that’s not wrong, then I don’t know what is.

It only takes the woman with the cakes a minute or two to reach us, and we put our hands out for her to give each of us two. Behind her, another woman I’ve never seen carries a silver pitcher full of pink lemonade and plastic cups. She pours each of us a glass and hands them to us, never smiling or even making eye contact as she does.

Like nearly everyone else here, she’s little more than a zombie.

I want more than anything else to ask Mary what she thinks of this place and how strangely so many of the women act here, but I don’t dare. I’ve learned my lesson already. One time making waves and having to deal with Nadine’s henchmen was enough for me.

We finish our breakfast and lemonade, and the woman who had the pitcher before now comes around to take our plastic cups. Nobody talks as we wait for Micah to appear, so I keep my gaze focused on my hands in my lap.

Curious, even though I know I shouldn’t be, I turn around to look at the crowd behind us and see every bench filled with women dressed exactly like me. They stare straight ahead, their faces expressionless. Nash and the other guards stand in a line across the back of the tent. They too stare straight ahead and show no emotion in their faces, but it’s a different kind of indifference, almost as if they’ve been instructed not to focus on any of us. Nadine stands on the side of the tent, and as I watch, her guards walk in and take their positions behind her. She smiles as she listens to the one who wanted to hurt me tell her something.

Knowing those two, it’s got to be the news that someone weaker than them has been hurt.

I quickly turn around and face the front again, worried she or one of her goons saw me watching them. I need to remember what Nash said about not noticing anything here. It’s just that it’s my nature to pay attention to what’s happening around me.

As I think that, I sense my brain getting fuzzy. It’s like when I take cold medicine and my head feels like a balloon bobbing up and down a few feet above my body. What’s happening to me?

I glance over at Mary on my right and see her staring straight ahead. She looks like she always does, or so it seems. Maybe it’s the heat. It’s got to be near eighty already, and we haven’t even hit the warmest time of the day. Sitting in this tent isn’t helping either.

Strangely enough, though, I’m not sweating. I should be if the heat is affecting me, but when I run my fingertips along my hairline and across the back of my neck, I feel no dampness.

Maybe they put something in the food or the lemonade. That doesn’t make sense, though, because they didn’t taste off at all. Like usual, the cakes were delicious, and the lemonade was the most refreshing drink I’ve ever had.

I bet they’re pumping something into the tent to make us more relaxed. I wonder what it is. I’ve never heard of anything like that.

With each minute that passes, my brain has to work harder and harder to focus. Everything, not just my brain anymore, feels hazy and fuzzy. Like if someone took a sander and ground off all the rough edges of me.

My limbs grow heavier and heavier as I wait with everyone else to see Micah. I have to admit that I’m interested in what he has to say. I wasn’t before, but now I’m eager to hear him talk. He does have a very intriguing way about him. I knew it from the first time I stood in his rooms and we spoke.

Then, as if he materializes out of my desire to see him, Micah walks in through the flap at the back of the tent, and it’s as if every cell in my body is happy he’s here with us. I’ve never felt this level of bliss. That’s what it is. Pure, unadulterated bliss. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever experienced.

“Hello, my children,” he says, his voice smooth and comforting, like a piece of silk against my skin.

He’s shirtless and wearing black pants that have a sheen to them. He’s also barefoot, and I notice the top of his feet are as tan as his upper body.

Everyone says hello back to him, so I join in, careful to make sure not to stick out in any way. Going against the grain here is wrong. I know that now.

Micah steps up onto the stage and opens his arms out wide as he tilts his head back to look at the top of the tent. His biceps flex and his chest muscles puff out so he looks even more attractive. I don’t think I understood how appealing he is until this moment. His body is as beautiful as his face.

“It’s a wonderful day for us to join in fellowship and pledge ourselves to making this world the best place it can be for each and every one of us. As I look out at your beautiful faces, I see people who are finally living up to their potential. Do you feel it? Do you feel the love I have for you and the happiness that’s coursing through me for how wonderful your lives are right now?”

Everyone around me answers him that they feel his love, so I nod and answer too. “Yes! I feel it!”

Whatever this is I’m feeling, it’s warm and safe, and for the first time here, I’m happy. I want to live up to my potential. I want to be better than I’ve always been.

“Good!” he says as he walks across the stage to stop in front of Mary and me. “I have so much love inside me for you, and I feel your love for me. It’s like a beautiful, warm hug that makes me feel like I can do anything in this world.”

I look at Mary and smile at how happy she looks right now. Micah stares down at her, and I hope she knows how wonderful she is. If Micah can see it, I know everyone else here can. That’s terrific for her.

He reaches out his hand to take hers, and I swear it’s like the Michelangelo painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. Pulling her up on stage, he beams a smile at her and she smiles back. It’s like they’re as blissful as they can be.

“Mary here is a perfect example of what we do here at The Golden Light. She came here earlier this week unsure what she wanted to do with her life, and now look at her. She’s thriving here with us! That’s the key, everyone. We all deserve to thrive. Do you want to thrive?”

The crowd around me yells yes, just as I do, even though I’m not sure where my answer is coming from since I feel so fuzzy headed. I do want to thrive, so when I say yes, I mean it, though.

“Look at me. I want to tell you that I wasn’t always the man you see in front of you today. I was lost too, but The Golden Light found me. As soon as I gave myself over to that glorious feeling of acceptance, I was changed. My life became everything I’ve ever wanted. Do you want that for you?”

Of course, we all answer yes, and Micah says, “Then promise me you’ll give all you are to The Golden Light! Say you will! Repeat it with me. I will give all I am to The Golden Light.”

Mary gazes up at his face like she’s never seen anything so incredibly beautiful while the rest of us in the audience cry out, “Yes! I give everything I am to The Golden Light!”

I don’t know how long this goes on because with each passing second I feel more and more relaxed. Like I feel nothing but the purest love there is. Micah praises all of us for being so wonderful, and I watch him take Mary into his arms and feel so happy for her. To have the leader of The Golden Light recognize you for your greatness is something all of us here can only wish for, but she’s got it.

At the end of the bench, the woman sitting there begins to cry and then collapses to the ground. Nobody rushes over to save her, but I understand why now. She’s simply experiencing love like she’s never felt it before. Just as those girls who recruited me said.

For the first time, I understand. The Golden Light is pure love. I get it.

Micah kisses Mary on the lips and announces to the crowd that he has special work to do for all of us. That makes the women all around me cry out their thanks. Some fall to the ground weeping, while others simply hold their heads in their hands and sob at how happy they are.

When she sits down next to me, I take Mary’s hands in mine and smile at her. “You are so lucky. He’s seen your greatness. I’m so happy for you!”

She nods and touches her lips with her fingertips. “He kissed me. It was like having someone you’ve admired all your life notice you. I’ve never felt this happy, Lara. I want you to feel this too. Do you?”

“I do! It’s wonderful. This is how we’re supposed to feel every day of our lives,” I say, enjoying her happiness right along with her.

I finally get it. Now I see what The Golden Light is all about and how good it is.