The night before, Marnie had confided in Gabi that after she pulled the move with the gun, Beth had followed her back to the lodge and tried to get her to return to the group, while praising her for the bravery she’d shown during the challenge.
“What happened back at the lodge?” Gabi asked.
“She told me that she felt like we had a real connection, and that she hoped we would see each other around Alder after camp. She said she usually has a hard time relating to people because she’s a transfer too, and no one really gets her. She said she had certain feelings she’d always been afraid to tell anyone about, and if I ever had feelings like that, I could tell her without worrying she would judge me or tell anyone.”
“What feelings?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Marnie said shortly. “You have no idea what its like to be this way, in this fucked-up place. At least in Willow I can be who I am.”
“Marnie, what are you talking about?” Gabi said. “How can I understand if you won’t explain?” But Marnie’s face had closed down, and she’d gone off to get another carafe of water. Beth’s approach sounded exactly like the tactic Luke had used with Gabi, relating to her through shared experience and making her feel special. It had been nice for a second to believe that someone who looked like Luke could be interested in her, but after what had transpired in the glade, Gabi couldn’t imagine how she’d ever been attracted to him. Even the gleam of his perfect teeth as he stood there grinning at her while they waited for the ceremony to commence annoyed her. She only hoped Marnie could see through Beth’s charade.
After some shuffling, the teams assembled in clusters with their mentors, and Ruth marched into the hall. She looked like a bride. Her ivory dress was beaded silk, with a fine lace bodice that showed off her flawless skin. Her hair was twisted up into a shiny chignon, and a fall of gossamer fabric flowed from a pearled comb tucked into the top of her head. She clutched an ornately embossed book of new doctrine in her hands, and bare toes peeked out from the hem of her dress. This was the only way in which she resembled the other occupants of the room, whose feet were similarly unshod. Otherwise she looked like a six-tiered wedding cake surrounded by stale bread rolls.
Though it was only about 9:00 a.m., the shades had been drawn over the windows, and fresh tapers were lit, so that Ruth’s finery came alive in their glow. Christina held an ornate goblet studded with semiprecious stones, taking up a place beside Ruth in front of the fireplace, where the gas fire blazed full force.
“You must be kidding me,” Marnie breathed. “Looks like old Ruthie’s gone around the bend.”
“Welcome, brothers and sisters,” Ruth intoned. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the communion of our young fellows with the One God. In hearing and answering his call, they take up their vows and surrender to his Will. It is the highest form of sacrament, and its bond, once forged, is unbreakable.”
Zach began to sing one of the old hymns that were only used during special ceremonies. The song had always moved Gabi, not because it evoked sadness, but because it made her feel the way she had when she was little, being rocked in Gram’s arms.
“Why should I feel discouraged?” Zach sang, his baritone infusing the lyrics with longing. “And why should the shadows come? Why should my heart feel lonely and long for heaven above?” Zach’s honeyed voice swelled around them as sheets of lyrics were distributed so everyone could join in. “When God is my portion, a constant friend is he. His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.” Zach’s volume dipped, cueing the others to do the same.
Ruth accepted the goblet from Christina, took a sip, and offered it back to her for a drink before reclaiming the goblet and holding it high as she spoke over their hushed singing.
“We approach you with humility, O God,” Ruth cried. “We ask for your holy blessing and that you make us worthy to receive you into our hearts.”
Zach’s voice soared again as he took Peter by the elbow and guided him to stand in front of Ruth. The rest of the campers were escorted into a line behind Peter and Zach, until the pairs wound one and a half times around the hall, their impassioned voices causing the candles to flicker. Ruth lowered her chalice and offered it to Zach, who took a shallow sip, then held the cup to Peter’s lips. After each of the counselors and mentors drank and teams had been reformed in their circles, Zach struck up a different song, clapping and swaying as everyone joined in.
“I am empty, God, I come to you pure. I am yours, God, I come to you now. Take my hand, God, and use it for love. Call my name, God, and make my life whole.” Christina circulated among them with a smoking censer of incense. The heat in the room built as the simple lyrics were repeated over and over by the entire assembly, the volume and pace increasing with each new round. Gabi’s mouth was still tingling from the sour-sweet taste of whatever had been in that goblet, and she sang too, as the swaying of Luke’s body on one side and Jordan’s on the other induced a hypnotic state. Her head felt spinny and light,
