Ruth’s whistle cut through the noise as the group finally surrendered their plates. “I know you’re excited to see your friends this weekend, and make new ones of course, but please respect the whistle.” Ruth held out a hand, and a doe-eyed girl with a long braid dangling to the top of her rear placed a clipboard in it. “Thank you, Christina. Now, the first order of business is to pair you with your buddy for the weekend. The buddy system is designed to give you a confidant and partner for the exercises we will be doing to help open each of you to your calling. Partners will be from the same branch, when possible, so that you can continue to support each other after consecration. Some of you are the sole representatives of your branch this year and will be paired with other solos. The teams have been selected at random, and we’ve put you in same-sex pairs, because your partners will also be your bunkmates.”
“I’d like you to be my bunkmate,” a sly voice stage-whispered from over by the buffet table. The teens giggled and elbowed each other. The voice came from Bradley Fiske, lounging on the floor like a sated cat and leering at Ruth suggestively. Ruth pointedly ignored him.
“There will be four campers to a team, and you will be responsible for each other for the next two and a half days. You will become like family, and you will raise each other up on the last day for consecration, as our Savior was raised by his Father. Can I get an amen?”
“Amen!” shouted the counselors.
“I can’t hear you!” yelled Zach, stepping toward the lounging teens and cupping a hand to his ear. The group of counselors started clapping and stomping rhythmically. Amens erupted around Gabi, as her peers clambered to their feet. The room shook as the crowd sang, “Ay-ay-men! Ay-ay-men! Ay-aymen! Amen! Amen!” faster and louder with every round. Ruth waved her hands in ecstasy, and her mouth contorted, flashing teeth and tongue as sounds erupted from her throat. Zach leaned close to her, swaying with her as her message flowed through him and came out of his own mouth in translation.
“All will be called to his service,” he sang in a pure, sweet baritone. “He has blessed this gathering and will make his Will known to you. He is calling you and the time has come to answer!”
The air was charged with the electricity of so many young bodies chanting and moving as one. Gabi had never felt such a seductive tide of energy surging around her, not even in temple. Something about how full of every feeling and possibility they all were was intoxicating when heightened with a sense of communal purpose and power. Gabi found that she wasn’t just singing and swaying along because it was expected of her or because she was Brother Lowell’s daughter, as she did at services. She did it because she wanted to. Instead of trying to shut herself down enough to manage the sensations, Gabi felt wide open, moved to sing and stomp and chant along. She let the amens vibrate her vocal cords and moved her body to the same rhythm pulsing through those around her. It was so good to be a wave in an ocean for once, rather than a lonely puddle barely big enough to get stepped in.
MARIAN RANDOLPH was her partner? At least twenty other girls from Alder were at Consecration Camp, and Gabi had been paired with her? The logic of it baffled her, not that any pairing would have made sense. Gabi didn’t have any friends or extracurricular activities to write down on the camp survey mailed out beforehand to help the counselors match her with someone. But if anyone in Alder was less like Gabi than Marian, Gabi would have been shocked to know it. By the look on Marian’s face when Ruth read their names aloud, she felt the same way.
Marian wore a week’s ration of black eyeliner and mascara in dark moons around her eyes and was sarcastic and opinionated. She never hesitated to object if something penetrated her shroud of apathy enough to rile her and paid little heed when she was admonished for vanity or smelling like cigarette smoke. There was no actual rule against wearing makeup, but simplicity and humility were virtues that got a lot of airtime during temple services. Marian had never been caught smoking, and no one could figure out where she got her cigarettes, which were not rationed to anyone under twenty-one. The mystery could have been solved without too much digging, only most people were a little scared of Marian Randolph. When the sullen girl showed up at the school for her first day two years ago, she was as likely to throw a punch as say hello. Rumor had it she’d come from Willow, one of the remote branches that still suffered regular attacks by raiding Tribes. Willow had come late to the fellowship, and its branch status had been suspended more than once due to low conversion rates. There was still a lot of division within the branch, as many remained loyal to the Tribes and weren’t convinced that Unitas was the only ticket to survival.
Marian attended temple services, as all fellows were required to do unless excused by the council, but she showed up alone. The other orphans came to services with a foster family or kids from the group home. The only thing she and Marian had in common, Gabi realized, was that Marian was a loner too.
