Durable Goods Page 4

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” I reached for the spoon. Ruth led the prayer of thanks. “Where’s Isaac?” I asked between spoonfuls. “I thought he did the prayers around here.”

  “Ruth keeps watch when Isaac’s away.”

  “Away?”

  “In town or at the store.”

  “Keeps watch?”

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s just a figure of speech. She’s in charge when Isaac’s busy.”

  We ate in silence with the exception of a slurp here and there. Just before we’d finished eating Isaac came into the dining hall and surveyed the room. His eyes came to rest on me. I lowered my head and stared into my soup like a kid afraid to be called on in class. But even without looking, I felt his eyes boring into me and then I saw his feet alongside my own. I looked up.

  “I trust we’ve moved beyond our conversation in the field today?”

  I nodded.

  “I have given you a gift by bringing you here. I expect gratitude, compliance and respect.” I nodded. His feet moved out of view.

  As soon as we were back inside the dormitory, I went to Sarah. She lay staring at the ceiling but turned her head slightly when I knelt beside her. Her hand was wrapped in white gauze and lay on her chest.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  A tear escaped from the corner of her eye and rolled into her hair. “The doctor gave me some pills. They’re helping.”

  “What was that about?”

  “I disobeyed,” she said. “It was my penance.”

  “Burning your hand is penance? Whatever happened to three Hail Mary’s and an Our Father?”

  “It was to acquaint me with the fires of hell. So that I should know God’s will if I continued down that path.”

  “What could you have done to deserve that?”

  “I had sex with a migrant worker.”

  “What? When? I haven’t seen any men since I got here.”

  “He was here a few days ago meeting with Isaac. He runs a team of migrants. Isaac calls him when he needs work done.”

  “So you’ve met him before?”

  “It wasn’t a one-time thing if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “And you got caught.”

  Sarah nodded. “Isaac has given us everything and I betrayed him. I went against his rule. I can stay and be taken care of, but I will never be chosen.”

  “Chosen for what?”

  “To live with him in the house. When he takes us we are no longer farm hands, we become his, his…”

  “His what?”

  She shrugged. “I’m not sure, but the women he takes live in his house. They’re no longer farm workers. They have a better life than the rest of us.

  “You don’t know what goes on in the house. It could be worse than working in the fields.”

  “What’s worse than working in a snow covered field in the middle of December with frostbitten fingers and toes? They have a real house, not a dormitory and they spend their days in the comfort of their home, like a wife.”

  “Polygamy isn’t legal.”

  “It’s not polygamy. It’s a commitment to love and honor him.”

  “That’s stretching the definition a bit don’t you think?”

  “Call it what you want. I’ll be faithful to him now, but it’s too late for me. I will never see the inside of his house.”

  “What makes you think the women he takes have it so good?”

  “It’s what he tells us.” She shrugged and looked away.

  “How can you believe him with no proof? Where are the women now? What do they do in the house all day?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice rose and we both instinctively looked for Ruth. “We don’t see them again. They never come back.”

  “But you’re frightened of him. Why would you want to live with him?”

  “He’s only cruel if you disobey. Hasn’t he fed you since you’ve been here? Haven’t you slept in a warm bed?”

  I started to tell her that the food and bed I had at home made this look like a homeless shelter, but I was supposed to be down on my luck. “He almost broke my foot today in the field. That’s an odd way to show me he cares.”

  “Are you all right?” She looked genuinely concerned.

  My foot was throbbing, but I nodded. She had enough to deal with without worrying about me.

  “He has to have control. He does what he needs to make us worthy.”

  “Of him or God? Seems like to Isaac they’re one and the same.”

  She didn’t answer. Her face was drawn. “Get some sleep,” I said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “No, wait.” She gripped my forearm with her good hand. “You need to understand. I deserved what he did today. A hand is a small price to pay for food and shelter and love.”

  “So you forgive him for burning your hand and call it love.” I couldn’t keep the disgust off my face.

  “All of us were addicts, prostitutes or runaways when Isaac took us in. He gave us a home and clothes and food and in exchange we work on the farm and obey his rules. To me that’s love.”

  It was a hard summary to argue, but in actuality it was a pile of brainwashing bullshit. Isaac was picking the most despondent women off the streets for free labor and, I assumed, sex once they were in his house. A monster disguised as the angel of God.

  “Why are you risking talking to me now? Why tell me all this?”

  She glanced toward Ruth and ducked her head. “You need to know the rules and Isaac tends to teach them by force.” She nodded toward my foot.” I understand and accept his motives though I may not always agree with his tactics. Now go to sleep.”

  I walked away from Sarah and stood at the side of my bed devising a plan to get onto the top bunk with a bum foot.

  Ruth appeared beside me. “You need a leg up?” she asked.

  “Thanks, I’ll manage.” I dragged myself by the metal sidebar up and onto my blanket.

  She took the pillow off the bottom bunk and slipped it beneath my foot. “Keep it elevated,” she said then laid three white pills in my palm. “For pain. Lights out in five.” She moved away from me, her voice back in drill sergeant mode. “Hurry it up in the bathroom, ladies.”

  I watched her walk past the other women, go into her bedroom and close the door. A sound outside shook me from my thoughts and I leaned toward the window. Isaac’s pick-up was moving slowly down the road, its headlights bouncing off the trees. There were shapes in the truck bed, but I couldn’t make them out. Machinery or bales of hay, I strained to make out the images, my eyes burning. The truck rolled over the bumpy road, its cargo swaying with the movement. And then in the darkness there was a sudden light, the glow of a cigarette and then another.

  “What’re you lookin’ at?” Ruth was beside my bed, staring up at me.

  “Where’s Isaac going?”

  She glanced out the window. The truck was barely discernable in the distance. “He’s making a delivery.”

  “What’s he delivering?”

  She tapped her foot against the wooden floor. “He’s driving the migrant workers home.”

  “Migrant workers? I didn’t see any workers here today. Where were they?”

  “You know your mouth is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

  I couldn’t help but smile. “It already has. Countless times.”

  “Go to sleep,” she said and walked down the aisle to her room, closing the door behind her.

  I lay back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling considering Isaac’s cargo. Migrant workers my ass. I closed my eyes, saw the glow of cigarettes that had come from the truck and thought about how good a Honey Berry cigar would taste right now. Just the thought of that sweetness made my mouth water. I pushed aside my craving and asked myself the question again. Who the hell was in that truck? And how could I find out?

  OK

  TUESDAY

  There were no curtains on the dormitory windows and daylight woke me as s
oon as it made an appearance. I listened to the sounds of the women, soft snores and deep, relaxed breathing. Outside, a cacophony of birds greeted the new day. Contradictory to what I knew or believed about Isaac’s kingdom, I felt peaceful and safe beneath the gray, wool army blanket and almost understood how this place could become a refuge for women who’d been homeless, addicted or abused. But what I couldn’t understand is what made them stay once they were back on their feet. Or once they’d witnessed the violence Isaac was capable of.

  Ruth’s door was closed. Without my watch I couldn’t be sure of the time, but sunrise in November hits between six-thirty and seven. I might have a few minutes to get a text off to Griff. I slid off my bed, careful to land on my left foot and stood for a moment listening. No one stirred. Placing my right foot on the worn, pine floor I shifted my weight and tested it out. It was painful, but better. A night’s rest and whatever those white pills were had made a difference.

  In the bathroom, I hovered above the floor with one foot on the tub and the other on the sink, wincing as I evened out my weight. Loosening the grate overhead, I felt for my cell phone then sat on the toilet and texted Griff.

  Bennett crazy. Women for work and sex (I think). Don’t worry, just working:) No Kira yet. Inside house? Will text asap. Xo

  It wasn’t much, but it was all I had for now and at least he’d know I was all right. I slipped the phone back inside the grate, but took the picture of Kira and stuffed it into my sock. I’d show it to Sarah today.

  I crept out of the bathroom hoping to make it back to bed before Ruth opened her door and raked her hand through those f-in chimes. No luck.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” She stood arms folded, dead center in the aisle between the beds.

  “Do you ever sleep?” I asked.

  “Answer my question,” she said.

  “I had to pee.”

  I could see in her face that she wasn’t convinced.

  Around us women were lifting their heads, watching.

  Ruth kept her eyes on mine. I met them and held on. She dropped her gaze and turned around. “Let’s go ladies,” she said. “Rise and shine. The trees are waiting.”

  Like obedient children twenty-eight blankets flipped back, exposing the bodies beneath. Women lined up in twos down the center aisle. Many held their Bibles, mumbling prayers as they waited to take their turn in the bathroom.

  I fell in at the end of the line placing me just outside of Ruth’s door. She was leaning against the wooden frame cleaning her glasses with a paper towel and watching the women parade past.

  “Store not opening today?” I asked hoping to make small talk and slip back into her good graces. If I’d ever been there.

  “Opens at nine.”

  “You like going there every day?”

  She shrugged. “Better than working the farm.”

  “Must be kind of boring out there in the middle of nowhere. How many customers you get in a day?”

  “What are you a census taker? Enough questions. Didn’t you learn your lesson yesterday?” She glanced at my foot. “How’s it feel?”

  I shrugged.

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “Move along.”

  I stumbled and grabbed a metal footboard to keep from landing on my swollen foot then glanced back at Ruth to see if she’d set me off balance on purpose.

  She shook her head and sighed.

  On my way to the dining hall I caught up to Sarah who’d fallen far behind the other women. She was pale and held her hand close to her chest.

  “How are you?” I asked.

  She looked at me and shook her head, her mouth clamped shut.

  “You should be in bed,” I said. You can’t work today.”

  “I have to,” she whispered.

  “What are you going to do with one hand?”

  “Whatever I can.”

  “This is fucking ridiculous.”

  She shot me a glance that told me to drop it.

  I picked up a tray and made my way down the line, doubling up on scrambled eggs, sausage and whole-wheat toast, one for me, one for Sarah. At the coffee urn I poured a mug for each of us. She gave me a grateful nod. We settled at a table together though she didn’t look up or in any way acknowledge my presence. But when I lifted my toast to take a bite, she threw me an incredulous look.

  “Oh yeah,” I said dropping the toast back onto my plate. “Give thanks first.”

  Ruth stood at the front of the room, gave the blessing and a multitude of forks went into motion.

  “Where’s Isaac?” I asked.

  “He often doesn’t arrive until after breakfast,” Sarah said.

  “Late sleeper?”

  She didn’t respond, but kept her head bowed, eyes on her plate.

  “I saw Isaac leave here last night. Does that happen often?”

  She glanced at me sideways. “Isaac does what he wants. I don’t keep tabs on him.”

  “But you must hear his truck. Does it go by every night?”

  “I hear it sometimes. I have no idea where he’s going. Now eat. I don’t want to talk.”

  “How’s your hand?”

  She ignored me.

  After breakfast we gathered our wagons and headed for the trees. I left the laces untied on my right boot, but it wasn’t providing much relief. I limped along and made my way toward Sarah who was moving almost as slowly as I was, pulling her wagon with her good hand.

  She looked at me surprised. “You don’t learn, do you?”

  “I’m like a bad penny.” I said. That won a smile.

  We stopped in front of a couple of Douglas Firs. Hoping like hell I wasn’t making a huge mistake, I bent and slipped the picture of Kira out of my sock. I had to trust someone and for now, Sarah was my only option.

  I held the photograph in front of her face. “Have you seen her?”

  She looked at it closely then turned to me. “Who are you?”

  “I’m trying to find my friend. I think she was, or is here. Have you seen her?”

  “Are you police?”

  “No.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m just looking for my friend.”

  “So you’re not here because you need to be.” She smiled. “That explains a lot.”

  “I just want to find my friend.”

  Sarah looked back at the picture and nodded. “She was here. But Isaac took her to the house and I haven’t seen her since.”

  “How long ago did he take her to the house?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How can you not know? She was living here with you.”

  “We avert our eyes. We keep our mouths shut. It’s not spoken of and best forgotten.”

  “And yet you love him,” I shook my head.

  “Sometimes he takes a girl right away within a day of her arrival; sometimes, it’s months. Some never leave the dorm at all. Time is a hard thing to keep track of here. I think it was the end of last winter when she came. She was with us for maple syrup season and stayed with us all summer. It was sometime in September that he took her, I think. I can’t be sure.”

  “You mean two months ago?”

  Sarah nodded. “She was very beautiful. I knew he’d want her as soon as she arrived. I was surprised that he waited as long as he did. But she was difficult. She talked a lot about leaving. She and Ruth argued.”

  “What did they argue about?”

  “She kept saying she wanted to leave, that she was ready to go home. She wanted to see her father. Ruth told her to be quiet, that Isaac would be angry if he heard her. But he must have heard about it because he came for her.”

  “And you never saw her again?”

  She glanced around then dropped to her knees and lifting a small axe, started chopping low branches from the fir tree in front of her with one hand. “I shouldn’t say anymore.”

  “You better watch that ax,” I said. “You’re not steady.”

  “Get to work,” she whispered.

  “Does he ha
ve sex with the women in the house?”

  “I told you already. I don’t know.” Her teeth were clenched.

  “What is your assumption?”

  “It’s a husband’s right to have sex with his wife.” She brushed a tear from her cheek. “You’ll find out for yourself. I see it in the way he looks at you. He’ll take you next.”

  I backed away digesting her words. How long did I have before he came for me? Stepping up to a nearby tree I began cutting away misshapen branches leaving only the most pristine, and thought of Isaac weeding out the women. What did he do with the ones he took? I had two days left before Griff and John made their entrance. As much as it scared the hell out of me, I needed Isaac to make his move. When we broke for lunch I’d text Griff with an update and then strap the phone back onto my thigh. I might not have the chance to go back for it later. ‘He’ll take you next.’ The words sent an icy trail down my back. It’s what I wanted. It’s why I was here. But I was finding it hard to breathe. I sucked in the scent of pine, hoping it would transport me to images of Christmas instead of the one Sarah had left me with, but sugar plum fairies were few and far between.

  A whistle went off in the barn marking the end of work for the morning and commanding us back to the dormitory. After all the women had used the bathroom I went in to take my turn, alone.

  My foot throbbed as I stood on the sink and loosened the ceiling grate. Wincing, I lowered myself back onto the tile floor. I needed more of those pills. Sitting on the toilet I texted Griff: Confirmed Kira was here. Still in the house? Will get inside asap. Xo. I belted the phone to my thigh the same way Griff had done just before I’d gone into the store to meet Isaac.

  I settled on my bunk and flipped open the Bible. The pages fell to Matthew 6:25: “Don’t worry about things— food, drink and clothes.” Wasn’t that what Isaac was offering, things? I hadn’t seen much spiritual guidance going on anywhere. “Look at the field lilies!” Exactly how Isaac wanted the women to see themselves while he treated them like slave labor. They’d simply traded one perpetrator for another the day they’d entered OK.

  At twelve-thirty Ruth waved her hand over the chimes and we took our places, lining up at the door. As we robotically filed past, she handed each of us a heavy, winter parka, sizes ranged small, medium and large. The women were as excited as kids on Christmas. Now, they could remain in the fields when the temperature dropped to single digits. I slipped mine on and stepped outside reluctantly grateful.