Durable Goods Read online

  “Welcome. I’m Sarah.” She pushed a strand of unruly auburn hair behind one ear.

  “Britt,” I said,

  She smiled. “That will change.”

  “What?”

  “Your name.”

  We’d reached the end of the serving line and I followed her to a table.

  “Can I sit with you?” I asked.

  “Of course.” She slid further down the bench and folded her hands together.

  I sat and before doing anything else, shoveled a spoonful of macaroni into my mouth.”

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes wide.

  “What?” I said.

  “We haven’t given thanks yet.”

  I lowered my head feigning shame.

  She touched my hand. “It’s okay, you’re new. We have to give thanks before eating.”

  I kept my head down breathing in the aroma of fat and carbohydrates. If that’s all I could get for now, I’d take it.

  Isaac appeared at the other end of the room and cleared his throat. “Thank you Father,” he said, voice booming, body rigid, his arms reaching toward heaven. “Guide my hands that I may shape my followers to your design. Make us worthy of this food we are about to eat and all the goodness you have bestowed upon us.” He lowered his arms and gazed from one face to another around the room. “And you, let your gratitude overflow, for without this community you would be just another sinner among the millions.”

  A loud Amen came from the rest of the room.

  “Okay,” Sarah said to me. “Now you can eat.”

  I lowered my head and dug in. At first, I couldn’t stop eating long enough to start a conversation. When my stomach began to fill, I looked up. “What did you mean when you said my name will change?”

  “Isaac renames all of us when we come. We are all named after biblical figures.”

  “What was your real name?”

  She shook her head. “Once we are renamed, our birth name is forever forgotten. We are never allowed to use it again.”

  “Allowed? What do you mean, allowed?”

  “Isaac provides us with everything we need and in return we do as he asks. It’s a small request to change our name.”

  “But it’s your identity. It’s who you are.”

  She smiled. “God knows who I am.”

  My stomach rolled over for the second time that day. “How long have you lived here?” I asked.

  “Let’s see.” She tipped her head to one side, eyes unfocused. “I’ve been here for three tree pruning seasons.” She smiled. “It’s hard to keep track, but I know that I was twenty-two when Isaac found me.”

  “Found you?”

  She seemed reluctant to explain, but finally said, “I was a prostitute. It was raining. I was standing under an awning on a street corner in Lewiston. He pulled over, rolled down his window and told me to get in. I’d only had two other tricks that night. It was slow and I hadn’t made my quota. I would have been in trouble.”

  “With your pimp?”

  She nodded.

  “So what happened?”

  “He was very kind. He was gentle.” She looked up from her plate and met my eyes. “That wasn’t always the case. Afterwards, he told me about Oracles of the Kingdom. He said he would take me there if I wanted to go.”

  “Afterwards? He had sex with you first?”

  “I was a prostitute.”

  “That doesn’t mean he had to have sex with you. He could have just offered to help you.”

  “I was happy to do something for him. He promised to take care of me and said I could live with him forever. I just had to obey his rules and praise God and I would know love like I’d never known it before.” She smiled. “How could any girl say no to that?”

  I finished my meal in silence.

  When women began carrying their empty dishes to a stainless-steel counter on one side of the room, I followed suit and tossed my silverware along with theirs into a gray plastic bucket. Trays were stacked on a wooden table near the door. As each person returned to their seat they knelt on the floor in front of their chair.

  Isaac stood at the head of the room waiting for all to kneel. Lowering to my knees, I glanced at the people around me, looking for anyone who had even a slight resemblance to Kira. No one stood out.

  With his palm, Isaac flattened greasy, black hair behind one ear. It fell back over his face in defiance. Stroking a straggly beard, he searched the floor for words then raised his eyes.

  “Bow your heads, sinners,” he said. “Winter cold has made idle hands and I have heard and seen things that displease me. Someone among you knows of what I speak. The rules within the kingdom must be followed.” He pounded a fist on the table in front of him. “There is no outside contact. Everything you need is here and will be given to you. Lust is the devil at work. Control is the gift of God. I took you in when you were hungry and fed you. When you were thirsty, I gave you drink. You were naked and I clothed you. You were weak and filthy and pathetic and I have given you the opportunity to be reborn into something worthwhile and beautiful to praise God. If you betray me, you will be subjected to the penance I choose. Scorn me and know my wrath. Obey me and know my love. God has given you free will. Choose your path wisely.”

  He turned and walked out of the building. Beside me, Sarah was crying. “Return to your beds.” It was Ruth speaking. She’d slipped in when Isaac left. “You have one hour to read your Bibles and then back to work.” She opened the door and stepped outside.

  I caught up with Sarah as she crossed the field to the dormitory. “What was that about?” I asked.

  She shook her head and didn’t speak.

  “How am I supposed to know what I can and can’t do if no one tells me?”

  “No leaving. No sex. You heard it from Isaac.”

  “What happens if I don’t obey?”

  She stopped and looked at me then glanced toward the dormitory where Ruth was standing beside the door. She looked back and hesitated. “Just obey. Do everything he says, that’s all you need to know.”

  She started to turn away and I grabbed her arm. “Are you afraid of him? Why don’t you leave?”

  “Leave?” She seemed astonished by the idea. “This farm is all I have. Without Isaac and these fields,” she waved a hand toward the pasture, “I’d be on the street again. Why would I leave?”

  “Hey, you two, let’s go,” Ruth called from her post.

  Sarah hurried toward her glancing back at me just once, fear prominent in her eyes.

  I stopped at the door and looked at Ruth. “What happens now?”

  “Bible until one-thirty then back to the field.”

  “The field?”

  “They’re pruning trees for Christmas.”

  “What about you?”

  She looked unsure about giving me an answer. Giving in she said, “I re-open the store in the afternoon.”

  I lay on my bed and studied the ceiling. Kira was not living in the dormitory nor had I seen her at lunch. If she was here at all, she was in the house and the only way to know was to get inside. I could sneak in and risk getting caught or I could earn it like Isaac said.

  I was close to stir crazy waiting for our one hour of Bible reading to come to an end when the door flew open with a force that sent it bouncing against the wall. Isaac took four long strides down the center aisle and stopped beside Sarah’s bunk.

  “Get up,” he said reaching for her. He grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her from the bed. Her Bible fell to the floor. He kicked it aside.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

  Without answering he dragged her down the aisle. Ruth stood in the doorway of her bedroom. All eyes followed Sarah and Isaac out the door.

  “Get out here all of you,” Isaac called. “Bear witness to the wrath of the Lord.”

  In unison, we slipped from our beds and followed one another outside. A fire leapt skyward from the stone pit outside the dormitory.

  Isaac held o
nto Sarah’s wrist and pulled her in close to the fire. “This woman betrayed me. She laughed in the face of our Father by ignoring the rules of the kingdom. She will know the fires of hell in this life and if she does not repent she will know them in the next as well.”

  He slid his grasp upwards around Sarah’s elbow and forced her hand into the flames, ignoring her screams as they pierced the frigid air. Tears streamed down her cheeks, her eyes bulged from their sockets and her mouth contorted in pain. The women around me raised their hands to cover their noses and mouths. They stood still and silent. No one made a move to help her. I held my breath against the stench of cooking flesh and took a step forward. Someone grabbed the back of my sweatshirt. It was Ruth, her eyes glowering, warning me not to move. When Isaac finally let go of Sarah’s arm she dropped to her knees, wavered and collapsed onto her side clutching the burnt limb to her chest.

  “Let that be a lesson to all of you. You will know damnation here on earth and on this farm long before you know it in the afterlife if you fail to heed His word.” With that he turned on his heel and walked away. “Clean her up,” he said to Ruth as he passed. “The rest of you get to the fields. There’s work to be done.”

  The women turned away, their faces pale and drawn. They walked toward the barn without so much as a whisper among them. I went to Sarah and knelt beside her. Ruth was examining what minutes ago had been Sarah’s hand, but was now a bright red stump of curdled blistering skin fused into one claw-like digit.

  “Jesus,” I said.

  Sarah moaned.

  “Help me get her inside,” Ruth said.

  Together we carried her into the dorm and laid her on her bed. Ruth pulled out a cell phone.

  “Who are you calling?” I asked.

  “The doctor, who do you think?”

  “Isaac will allow a doctor to come here?”

  “He’s a friend. He comes when we need him.”

  “He’ll have to report this. It’s abuse.”

  Ruth sneered. “I said he’s a friend of Isaac’s. He does what Isaac tells him to. And you better get out to the field. I can handle this.”

  “But…”

  Ruth nodded toward the door. “Go.”

  I left Ruth with Sarah and went out the door. I hadn’t realized how badly my legs were shaking until now. I stopped and leaned against the dormitory and took a breath, closing my eyes. What in hell had she done to deserve that? Why did these women stay? Living on the street was foreign to me. But how could they believe Oracles of the Kingdom was a step up? From what I remembered of Kira, she was smart and confident. If she’d had the nerve to defy her father and run away at fifteen, I couldn’t see her submitting to Bennett’s control. Kira wasn’t on the farm. If she was here she was in the house. So no matter how terrified I felt of Bennett right now I had to get inside before I could turn tail and run.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” Ruth let the door fall behind her and stood staring at me. “I told you to get over to the barn.”

  I stepped away from the dormitory. “I know, I’m going.. I just, I was just…” I stopped and turned back toward her. “What the hell is wrong with him? How could he do that?”

  She looked at the ground and shook her head. “He does a lot of things you might not like. Best if you just get used to it. You’re not going anywhere.”

  I kept my mouth shut. Now wasn’t the time to argue with Ruth. I turned and headed for the barn. She was a piece of work. She seemed to thrive on her status as our overseer and yet there was compassion beneath her dissonance. And just now, her voice had bordered on kindness. I wondered what demons she lived with as Isaac’s offspring and if the hand she’d been dealt was reason enough to want revenge? She was the only one allowed to leave the farm. If Kira was here and had gotten that postcard out, Ruth may very well have been the conduit.

  I could see the others ahead of me moving toward the barn. It was like nothing I’d seen before, a colony of women each one walking alone, not in groups of twos or threes, no joking or laughing. Not like the women I knew. These were obedient wives, or worse, frightened children.

  “What now?” I asked coming up beside one of the women.

  “Chores,” she said. “We’re pruning. We’ll begin cutting and selling in another week. For now we prune every day after breakfast, after lunch, after prayers.” She smiled again.

  Inside the barn, we each retrieved a pair of tree shears and a small wagon to carry the cuttings. Another group of women would shape the pine branches into circles, adorn some pine cones and a red ribbon and, voila, wreathes. I followed the pruning crew across the field to the trees beyond and like the others, I kept my distance, but once at the tree line I stepped up to a Blue Spruce where the woman I’d spoken to was now cutting boughs.

  “Why’s everyone always so quiet?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

  She glanced at me. “Isaac requests that we work in silence. It allows us to focus on our tasks so we accomplish more. If we must speak then we are to speak to God.”

  “I don’t think He’d recognize my voice,” I said and laughed. Two women turned to look at me, each with the same irritated expression.

  The woman stepped back taking in the tree that stood before her from top to bottom with an artist’s tilt of the head.

  I took a step back, copying her move, feeling a bit like a grade-schooler sneaking a peak at the kid’s paper beside me. I had no idea what I was looking for. My level of competence when it comes to art is stick figures and I haven’t quite mastered them yet.

  “Has that ever happened before? I mean what Isaac just did?”

  She didn’t answer.

  “How can you stay here?” I whispered. “He’s crazy.”

  She looked at me and let out a long sigh. “He takes care of us if we follow the rules. It was Sarah’s choice to disobey.”

  “But you’re adults. Why do you put up with that?”

  She snipped a branch and let it fall to her feet.

  “Don’t you miss your old life?”

  She considered the question for a moment and shook her head. “I’m cared for and I have what I need. My life was miserable before this. I’d go days without food. I was eating out of Dumpsters. How could I miss that?”

  “How did you end up like that?”

  She glanced over her shoulder. “We shouldn’t be talking. He doesn’t like it.”

  “Well, somebody’s got to talk to me. How else will I know what’s expected? Or even why I’m here? I was hungry. He said he’d give me something to eat. But I wasn’t looking for this.” I waved my arm toward the surrounding trees.

  She stepped away and started trimming branches. I did the same. After a couple of minutes she took a step closer. “Drugs,” she said. “The state took my children away. I lost my job and my home. I had nothing until Isaac found me.”

  “Where was that?”

  “In line outside a homeless shelter. He stopped beside me and said he could give me a place to sleep. I got in his truck.”

  “And he brought you here.”

  She nodded. “I’ve never regretted it.”

  “What about your kids?”

  “They’re with a foster family somewhere, I suppose.”

  “Don’t you miss them?”

  “I never really wanted them, they just sort of happened. Here, I’m clean, no more drugs, I have food, a bed and a purpose.”

  “A purpose?”

  She started to say something, but froze.

  “What’s all the discussion?” Isaac was suddenly beside me or rather his horse was, a monstrous, black animal pawing the ground and snorting mucous into my hair.

  “Jesus,” I said and immediately regretted my choice of words.

  Isaac made a clicking sound with his mouth and the horse took a step closer, his ironclad hoof coming down on my foot. I screamed, throwing my shoulder into the animal trying to push him off, but it was like butting a stone wall. I was sure I could feel the tiny bones in my fo
ot snapping under his weight.

  “Get him off,” I yelled at Isaac who grinned down at me.

  He backed up the animal and swung his leg over the saddle descending from his perch. One spur-clad boot landed beside my foot. “Sorry,” he said. “But Job didn’t like what he heard.” He nodded toward the horse, his face so close I tasted his breath. “Language like that is not tolerated. The only reason I’ll forgo punishment is because you have only just arrived. This moment marks the end of your probationary period.”

  “Forgo punishment?” I looked down at my foot. The spikes on Job’s winter shoe had torn the thin leather of my boot and I was sure my skin beneath it looked just as mangled. “You call that forgoing punishment?”

  He stared at me, his eyes dark as river stones.

  I thought I was here because you wanted to help me?” “First, you have to prove yourself worthy.”

  “And if…?”

  The woman beside me squeezed my hand. I lowered my eyes and clenched my teeth pissed, but knowing she was right. I had to back down. “It won’t happen again,” I said.

  Without answering, Isaac climbed onto Job, laid the reins across his neck and spun him in the opposite direction, the horse’s coarse, black tail switching across my face. “Get those cuttings back to the barn,” he called over his shoulder.

  By the time we left the trees my foot was throbbing and swollen. It would only get worse when I took off my boot and the swelling expanded. I limped across the field, pulling my wagon full of mismatched fir behind me. No one offered to help or even acknowledged my difficulty. How great could their fear be that they even refused to take care of each other?

  We carried the branches into the barn. I hobbled among them like the hunchback of Notre Dame. By the time I’d delivered all of my greens, returned my wagon to its stall and inched my way back to the cafeteria for dinner, I was too nauseous to eat. I collapsed onto a bench. Someone slid a bowl of chicken soup in front of me as they passed, but I was too consumed by pain to look up to see who it was.

  “Eat,” the woman beside me said.

  “I can’t, I don’t think it’ll stay down. My foot is killing me. I think he broke something.”

  “You’re walking. If something broke, it’s only small bones. You’ll be fine.”