A few weeks later
Today, weâre planting apple trees. Apparently, the community does this every so often to increase the fruit supply for the ever-growing population. Of course, they let us do the hard work. Thatâs why the workers are called helpers, the lowest class of all. Both married and unmarried women and men plant the trees while the elders tell us where and how to do it.
All I can think of is how close the fence is and whether it would be easy to escape. Every time I turn my head, another guard walks past us, and I wonder if thatâs the norm for all the people here or just us initiates ⦠or more specifically, the captured.
If theyâre watching, itâs impossible to get over the fence. But what about underneath? Would I be able to dig a hole deep enough to get out?
I look at all the huts surrounding the fence, none of which belong to us. Maybe one of them is empty. I could sneak in every day and rip out the floorboards, then dig my way out.
I know itâs a ridiculous thought, but the idea is riveting to me.
Instead of digging holes for fruit trees, Iâd be digging my way out of here like some sort of poetic justice. All Iâd need is for them not to notice. But how? How do you go about not getting noticed in a community full of people ready to tattle on each other?
âWhat are you looking at?â Emmy suddenly asks me, catching me off guard while I was checking out the perimeter.
âAhh ⦠nothing,â I mutter, scooping up some dirt.
âWere you planning your escape again?â She sniggers, but I throw her a dead-serious glance.
âWhy are you still thinking about that?â she asks.
Gee, I wonder why.
âBecause I didnât choose to be here,â I answer. âAnd because out there itâs far more beautiful than this place could ever be.â
âWhy is that?â
God, she asks a lot of questions.
âIn the outside world, people donât live in huts but houses. We have showers with running water that weâre allowed to use any time of the day. And we donât eat food together,â I say.
âSo you eat alone?â she asks. âThat doesnât sound like fun.â
âNo, I mean ⦠people can choose how they eat or with who,â I say. âAnd that goes for pretty much anything. Like jobs. And who you marry.â
âWe choose who we marry too,â she replies.
I frown. âThe men choose who they marry ⦠not the women.â
She shrugs. âI donât see the difference.â
âThatâs because youâve never experienced true freedom,â I reply.
I canât help but be a little snarky. Itâs hard to resist when these girls are fully committed to this strangely sexist ideal that goes against everything Iâve ever known.
âIn the real world, men and women are equal.â
âBut I donât want to be equal,â she says, closing her eyes. âI want to serve and love and be loved by a man who is powerful and handsome.â She giggles. âAnd whoâs good in bed.â
I roll my eyes. âYou think you want that, but what if heâs not at all what you want? What then?â
She looks at me with a sincere smile on her face. âThen I accept what God has given me.â
I shake my head. âIt canât be that simple.â
âNo ⦠itâs not.â I get up and grab a new bag of seed along with some water so we can water the plants. âYou donât know what itâs like out there. You could have so much more.â
âYou really donât like it here, do you?â she says.
âNo,â I reply. âI want to go back home.â
âWell, thereâs no âback.â Youâre here, and this is your home now,â she says, adding a smile. âAnd you can choose to smile.â
âSmile ⦠for what?â I mutter, toiling away at the soil.
âBecause of the beauty of this world. For serving God.â
I snort and shake my head. Such a typical thing for a girl who grew up here to say.
âThereâs a lot you can be happy about here if only youâd give it a shot.â
I sigh and get up. âYeah, well, Iâm not interested in that.â I clean my hands with a towel, and say, âIâm going to take a break.â
âBut break time isnât untilââ
âI have to pee,â I interrupt, and I walk off before she can say anything else.
Itâs a lie, but I needed to get out of there before she tried any more tactics to persuade me that itâs awesome to live here.
âWait,â she says. âI need to go too.â
I roll my eyes. And here I was thinking Iâd get rid of her easily. How foolish of me.
âCan you tell me why you think itâs bad here?â she asks. âI mean, I grew up here. I donât know any better.â
I rub my lips together, trying to form the words without offending her.
âI mean, all we do is bring people together in love. Families are created to last. No one is ashamed of oneâs body. Everyone pitches in with the work. Our community doesnât stain the earth. What else is there to ask for?â
She has a point, but thereâs also much less evil ways to go about it as a community. To her, it may be awesome, but her view is biased. She wears rose-colored glasses. To her, all these people fucking and making families are just doing Godâs will. It all sounds so altruistic to live together in peace, growing your own fruits and vegetables, keeping your own livestock, and making your own clothes. Until you throw in the word authoritarian regime, and then theyâd all look at me funny as if Iâm making up stuff that doesnât exist.
âIn my world, we donât force people to live by these arbitrary rules.â
âSo there are no rules where you come from?â she asks.
âWell, there are rules ⦠but women and men are equal. Sort of.â
âSort of?â She frowns. âI donât understand.â
âItâs hard to explain.â I wave it off. âI donât know why Iâm telling you all this.â
âNo, please, tell me more.â She keeps following me. âI wanna know more.â
Why is she so intrigued?
I stop in my tracks. âWhy? Why would you wanna know about a world youâll never visit?â
Her lips part, but she doesnât say a word, and the look on her face has changed. Sheâs no longer that cheerful, happy girl who prances around the grounds. Iâve burst her bubble.
âI ⦠I â¦â she mutters.
âNever mind. I never shouldâve said that.â I sigh out loud. âJust ⦠let me be alone for a while, please,â I ask. âI just need to think on the toilet.â
âOkay,â she answers with a pout. I turn around and walk off, determined to ignore this growing need to educate the women here about how their world could be if only theyâd rise up and revolt.
But the moment I glance over my shoulder, and Emmy is gone, a weight is lifted off my shoulders, and I can finally breathe again. For now. I donât want to think about any of the things we talked about. I just wanna sit by myself and drink some water and pretend Iâm not here. I know Iâm telling myself a lie, but lies are nice sometimes. They keep you from tearing yourself apart.
After Iâve gone back to our hut, I pour myself some water and sit down to gulp it down in one go. It doesnât quench my thirst. Instead, it only makes it worse. But itâs not a thirst for water; itâs a thirst for information.
Iâm not going to get anywhere by doing nothing and abiding by the rules of this community. I need to do what no one thinks Iâll do. Something to grab their attention ⦠to make him tell me why Iâm here.
So I place my cup down, get up, and march straight out the door ⦠all the way to the temple. I remember seeing it being marked on that map one of the elder wives forced us to memorize. Itâs a huge, twentieth-century buildingâpart wood, part concreteâwith beautiful embellishments and actual gargoyles on the top. It reminds me more of a castle than an actual house, and I canât believe the patriarchs and the president are the only ones who live there. They could fit so many people into this property, but I guess they want to keep the separation intact to make them look powerful and to literally look over the people like some kind of gods.
I shiver as I slowly walk straight to the building, gazing around to see if anyoneâs watching. The guards have turned around to talk amongst themselves, and they havenât noticed me leaving the other group nor do they notice me going straight for the temple.
Without thinking, I go up the big stairs toward the door and try to open it. Of course, itâs locked.
âHey!â
I look over my shoulder. Itâs a guard.
Shit.
I jerk the door a few more times, but itâs no use, and the guardâs approaching fast.
âNoah! I know youâre in there!â I yell as loud as I can.
Other people in the community have heard the ruckus and gather around to watch as I continue to yell.
âCome out and talk to me!â
Suddenly, the guardâs got his arms hooked around mine.
âShut your mouth, initiate,â he growls into my ear.
I ignore him and continue yelling, âNoah! Come and face me, you coward!â
The people around me look on in shock as Iâm dragged away from the door and down the steps.
âLet go of me!â I try to elbow the guy holding me, but heâs much bigger than I am, and itâs almost as if Iâm hitting a rock. âI have to speak with him!â
I manage to wriggle away from his grasp, and I quickly run back up the stairs, refusing to give up. I slam the doors with both fists as hard as I can. âNoah, you listen to me! I know youâre in there! Tell me why you brought me here! Tell me who my mother is!â
A hand wraps around my wrist, pulling me down the steps again. âYouâll be punished for this,â the guard growls.
âNo! I need to speak with Noah!â
âThe patriarchs donât speak to the likes of you,â he says, and he holds me tightly against his chest as he talks to me. âHow dare you call out his name without his title?â
âFuck you.â I spit on his face, and he wipes it off with disdain.
âYouâll pay for that,â he hisses. Iâm sure itâs not just a threat, but I donât care.
Iâve made my presence known, and the people here know Iâm not supposed to be here. I can see it in their eyes, the fear of a newcomer. Iâm an unwelcome guest in a house I donât belong in, and they all know it. All I need to do is get them to act.
âYou see how Iâm treated?â I yell at the crowd. âI donât belong here, and you know it! Noah took me from my world and brought me here into your community. He stole me away without telling me why. Is that what you want? Is that what you want to teach your children?â
I look at a woman standing in the crowd, huddling over her children, whom she protects with her arms, and she covers their ears with her hands.
âThatâs right. Hide them away from the truth. Youâre all monsters abiding monsters.â
âEnough.â
The voice at the top of the stairs makes us all turn our heads.
Itâs Noah. So he did hear me.
The guardâs grip on my wrist loosens to the point that Iâm able to free myself from his grasp.
He glares at me from the top of the stairs, just beyond the doors, which have opened a tiny sliver, just enough for a single person to slip through and speak to the masses.
âEveryone, back to your work. Thereâs enough to do,â Noah says to the crowd. âShowâs over.â
I watch them leave, along with my hope of ever getting out of here by trying to incite them to throw me out.
He tosses me a single glance, one that could bring any woman to her knees. And I swallow back the fear I felt in my heart the moment the guard grabbed me, hoping heâll give me what I need.
âTake her back to her hut.â
What? No, that wasnât supposed to happen.
âNo, wait!â I yell as the guard grabs my arm and whisks me away. âNoah! You canât do this!â
But he doesnât say another word.
Instead, he turns around and goes right back through the door he came from, closing it shut behind him, shattering whatever hope I had left.
And I let the guard drag me all the way back to my hut without even fighting him. Whatâs the point? Not even Noah cares enough to stop him, so why should I?
He throws me inside, and says, âStay here until someone comes to get you.â
And he closes the door behind him and locks me in.
Theyâre probably going to decide on my punishment now. I deserve it for being dumb enough to believe Noah would ever try to intervene, that he would even remotely care enough about me to stop the charade and talk with me.
Heâs a patriarch, one of the leaders everyone looks up to. He canât abandon the rules for a girl like me. Even though heâs the one who brought me here in the first place, heâll still uphold the communityâs laws ⦠because he is the law. If he doesnât listen to it, then who will?
Complete and total anarchy would ensue.
Of course heâd want to avoid that at all cost.
What was I even thinking, going to that temple all by myself?
Sighing, I sit down on the chair, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess inside my head. This place is already getting to me. I can feel it in my bones. Iâm starting to fall in line, and thereâs no way to stop it from happening. Assimilation is only a natural progression of life here in the community, and he knows it. Itâs exactly why he put me through all of this ⦠to force me to become one of them.
Suddenly, something is slipped underneath the door.
I look up and blink a couple of times, wondering if I just imagined it.
But there really is a paper note on the wooden floor.
I jump up from my seat and bend over to pick it up. It has some handwritten words scribbled on one side.
In the showers hut, left side, is a door. Someone will let you in tomorrow evening. Iâll be waiting there. Your ritual is tomorrow. Choose wisely.
The note tremors in my hand.
Heâs approved me for a ritual ⦠for the ceremony tomorrow.
But he also gave me a choice.
I swallow hard.
Fuck someone ⦠or get fucked.