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to have to step out of hiding if you really do want work.”
“I know,” she said. “And that’s why I left The Fellowship—I wanted to live in the world again. I wanted to read everything, hear everything, see everything. I know the world is hard and scary, I know. But, Rawley, prison is scary, too—even if it’s a fine, bountiful prison. I was a teaching assistant in an elementary school for a year—the teacher asked the eight-year-olds, ‘Would you rather be on a deserted island alone or with someone you hate?’ And one little boy answered, ‘With someone I hate so I’d have something to eat.’ We laughed so hard. But that’s what a pure, controlled, perfectly constructed and protected commune can be like. Everything is thought through, down to every chore, every meal, the schedules down to the minute, even what we wore so there’d be no competing or envy. Everything except what people feel. It’s a deserted island stocked with your favorite foods, cozy shelters, protection and comfort. And the inhabitants eventually eat each other.”
Rawley just stared at her for a long moment while Mercy scribbled on her page. Finally he said, “I gotta ask. If someone recognizes you, are you in danger?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know for sure. Sometimes people left and it wasn’t given any notice, like everyone just looked the other way. Sometimes they left for good, but others would stay away for a few days and then return. I didn’t leave with permission. I was told I could not take my daughter away. But she’s my daughter.”
Rawley thought about this for a moment, then he said, “Hmm. So, you want to try the doc’s open house on Saturday?”
Again the shrug. “I have to do something. Right?”
“Devon, if you need to get farther away, like way far away, I’ll scrape up some money for a bus ticket.”
“I’m not sure what I should do. But I ask myself—why would they look for me here? Why would they look for me at all? They’re very busy—there are the gardens just starting to yield summer produce, there’s stock, there are children to tend. And they don’t like spending time on the outside. Jacob believes he’s being spied on by the government and by law enforcement, because they want his money and his property. I don’t know how true it is but that doesn’t matter—it’s what he thinks.”
“Jacob?” Rawley repeated.
“The founder. The leader of The Fellowship.” And then she gazed briefly toward Mercy.
Rawley seemed to understand at once. “Ah,” he said. “Well, you look different, Devon. You don’t stand out so much. You can be my second cousin, twice removed, takin’ refuge from a bad relationship, looking for work.”
“Think that would work?” she asked.
“I ain’t gonna kid you, chickadee—if someone from that camp of yours wanders into town and looks you square in the face, they’ll know you. But if one of ’em comes into town lookin’ for a blue-eyed blonde with a long ponytail, Thunder Point folks will say they don’t know any such person. But, you could always scream if you have to.”
“I can. And I used to run track in high school.”
That made him smile. “You got a driver’s license?”
“Had one,” she said. “When I joined The Fellowship, they took all my personal things and said they’d be stored for me. When you sneak out in the dark of night, you don’t get those things back.”
“Hmm. Guess that means you got no birth certificate.”
“Course not. But I think my driver’s license is still valid. I just don’t have it. And I memorized my Social Security Number. Why do you ask?”
“Because you’re gonna have to get around, that’s why. I been working on another truck—one left to me. Eventually it’ll be as fine as that old classic red job, but for right now? It runs fine.”
* * *
When Devon and Mercy arrived at the beach bar, ready to go to the job fair, she found Sarah and Spencer sitting on the deck with coffee. She didn’t want to intrude, so she just said, “Hi. I’m here.”
“Whoa,” Spencer said, nearly jumping out of his chair. “It’s a whole new you!”
“That’s darling,” Sarah said, smiling. “Good cut—you look like a young Meg Ryan. It must’ve been hard to part with that long hair.”
“Nah, I was ready to let that go. It’s more trouble than you can imagine.” But she often found herself reaching for that long braid, running a hand down the back of her neck.
“Pull up a chair, we have time. I was just watching Cooper down on the beach.”
Rawley came out onto the deck. “If you want to leave Mercy with me, I’ll show her how we catch the fish. After Cooper gets done on the beach and comes up, we’ll go out on the dock. I’ll make sure she has a life vest.”
“I don’t want you to be stuck babysitting, Rawley,” Devon said.
“Let her go,” Spencer said. “I know how to run the bar if anyone shows up. Austin’s down there already, trying to empty the bay of fish.”
“And I think Landon’s coming in,” Sarah said. “He’ll help.”
“She can’t swim, Rawley,” Devon said nervously.
“She’s not gonna swim. She’s gonna fish. And she’s not gonna eat worms, either. I hope.” He reached for her hand and she looked up at his grizzled face and beamed. “Wanna catch some fish?” he asked her. And she nodded enthusiastically.
Sarah got up, draining her cup once she was standing. “I’m going to run upstairs and change—I’ve been out on the bay this morning. I’ll be back in a minute. Help yourself to coffee. Then we’ll make a run on Carrie’s catered delights at the open house.” And with that she was gone.
Neither Spencer nor Devon said anything until Rawley and Mercy were down the stairs and Sarah had closed the door to Cooper’s upstairs apartment. It was Spencer who said, “Rumor has it you’re thinking of sticking around awhile.”
Devon looked at him sharply. “There’s rumors about me already?”
He chuckled. “Not the scary kind, like that you dabble in witchcraft or eat puppies for breakfast. Rawley mentioned you were thinking about looking for work around here.”
“Oh. Right. Of course. Well, it all depends. I’m unknown here. If there were jobs, I’m sure people who have lived here a long time would have them.”
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? I’m from out of town. I came here for a job.”
“Really? What job?” Her interest was immediately piqued.
“I’m the new Athletic Director and coach at the high school.” Then he laughed. “Really, though, I’m a gym teacher in charge of gym teachers.”
She sighed audibly. “A dream job,” she said. “Is your wife athletic?”
He glanced away. “My wife passed away a few months ago. That’s why I wanted to move. Austin and I needed a fresh start.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “My gosh, I barely meet you and I put my foot in my mouth.”
“No harm done. And no, she wasn’t particularly athletic. She liked boating and a little waterskiing, but that was it. And I have to give her a lot of credit—she came to all the games I coached. Not sure she had fun,” he added with a laugh. “But she was there.”
“You must miss her so much,” she said.
“There are tough days. I try to take comfort in her relief. She fought a battle with cancer.... I’m glad that’s over for her....”
Devon swallowed hard. Yet another reminder that as bad as she thought her life to be on some days, here was a brave