Kathryn’s answers were unrelated to my questions. She was probing her own dark places, reworking a familiar discourse with herself. Only this time it was in my kitchen.
“Of course you do.”
“I don’t want my baby to die.” Her fingers trembled as they caressed the tassels on the mat. It was the same movement I’d seen her use to stroke Carlie’s head.
“Is Carlie sick?” I asked, alarmed.
“No. He’s perfect.” The words were almost inaudible. A tear dropped to the mat.
I looked at the small, dark spot, feeling completely inept.
“Kathryn, I don’t know how to help you. You have to tell me what’s going on.”
The phone rang, but I ignored it. From the other room I heard a click, my message, then a beep followed by a tinny voice. More clicks, then silence.
Kathryn didn’t move. She seemed paralyzed by the thoughts that tortured her. Across the silence I felt her pain, and waited.
Seven spots darkened the blue linen. Ten. Thirteen.
After what seemed an eternity Kathryn raised her head. She wiped each cheek and brushed back her hair, then intertwined her fingers and placed her hands carefully in the center of the mat. She cleared her throat twice.
“I don’t know what it’s like to live a normal life.” She gave a self-deprecating smile. “Until this year I didn’t know that I wasn’t.”
She dropped her eyes.
“I guess it had to do with having Carlie. I never doubted anything before he was born. It never occurred to me to ask questions. I was home-schooled so what I knew—” Again the smile. “What I know of the world is limited.” She thought for a moment. “What I know of the world is what they want me to know.”
“They?”
She clutched her hands so tightly the knuckles grew white.
“We’re never supposed to talk about group matters.” She swallowed. “They’re my family. They’ve been my world since I was eight years old. He’s been my father and counselor and teacher and—”
“Dom Owens?”
Her eyes flew to mine. “He’s a brilliant man. He knows all about health and reproduction and evolution and pollution and how to keep the spiritual and biological and cosmic forces in balance. He sees and understands things the rest of us don’t have a clue about. It’s not Dom. I trust Dom. He would never hurt Carlie. He does what he does to protect us. He’s watching out for us. I’m just not sure—”
She closed her eyes and tipped her face upward. A small vessel throbbed in the side of her neck. Her larynx rose and fell, then she took a deep breath, lowered her chin, and looked directly into my eyes.
“That girl. The one you were looking for. She was there.”
I had to strain to hear her.
“Heidi Schneider?”
“I never knew her last name.”
“Tell me what you remember about her.”
“Heidi joined somewhere else. Texas, I think. She lived on Saint Helena for about two years. She was older than me, but I liked her. She was always willing to talk or to help me out. She was funny.” She paused. “Heidi was supposed to procreate with Jason—”
“What?” I thought I’d heard incorrectly.
“Her procreation partner was Jason. But she was in love with Brian, the guy she was with when she joined. He’s the one in your snapshot.”
“Brian Gilbert.” My mouth felt dry.
“Anyway, she and Brian used to sneak off to be together.” Her eyes went to a point somewhere in the distance. “When Heidi got pregnant she was terrified because the baby wouldn’t be sanctified. She tried to hide it, but eventually they found out.”
“Owens?”
Her eyes refocused on mine and I could see real fear.
“It doesn’t matter. It affects everyone.”
“What does?”
“The order.” She rubbed her palms on the mat then reclasped her hands. “Some things I can’t talk about. Do you want to hear this?” She looked at me and I could see that her eyes were starting to water again.
“Go on.”
“One day Heidi and Brian didn’t show up for morning meeting. They were gone.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think Owens sent someone to find them?”
