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But she already has. She's clouding my judgment in every moment I can’t shake her from my thoughts. There is a cloud of her that falls over everything I'm trying to think about.
Which could endanger us all. I know that.
I look up, finally, and meet Owen's eyes. He understands. I know it right away. He understands exactly what I'm thinking, but he doesn't seem to judge me. He doesn't seem upset. He seems to be of the same mind.
And yet, he still wants to do it.
“How much time do we have?”
I look at the book again.
“If nothing changes?” I sigh. The answer weighs heavily upon me. “Weeks, Owen. The tax bill is already overdue. We only have weeks. Weeks before everything is lost.”
“Then if we have no other options…” he suggests softly. I hear the pain in his voice too. He may feel the same way about her that I do.
“We should continue to train her, then,” I suggest. “We should prepare her.”
It sounds like a logical statement, but I wonder how much of that is simply wanting to be near her. Would I really risk everything just to be near her?
He frowns sadly, then finally seems to surrender to the idea.
“Whatever you think is best,” he finally says, fingering the wooden cross around his neck. His eyes are sympathetic and tender. I watch him carefully, letting the connection fully join. I don't have to protect myself from Owen. He's proven himself in a million ways. I'm not sure why I am so protective, when he's really the only one who understands me.
“Thank you,” I say. Then I add, somewhat less sincerely: “I'm sure it will all be all right.”
Owen
I rack my brain, trying to figure out if there’s anything else that we can do. Besides taking Angel and giving her away. It’s so hard to imagine never seeing her again. My mind races with possibilities, each one more outlandish than the next.
Could I run away with her?
No. Silas would never forgive me, and our problems wouldn’t be solved. Neither of us could survive alone. But it’s hard to imagine what will happen to her without feeling a dull ache in my belly.
Angel. You will save us. Somehow, you’ll save us. I wonder if the Good Lord above cares for us. He cares for the smallest sparrow, so how does he not care that we are about to lose what matters to us most?
Either the perfect Angel or the Family: one of these has to be sacrificed, forever. I rub my belly slowly, trying to quell the rising ache inside. The fabric of my plaid shirt feels rough against my palm.
The good of the many must outweigh the good of the few. Silas wants her though, I can tell. He wouldn’t draw out these training sessions for any other reason than to spend more time with her. It’s unprecedented. I know it, the aunties know it… and he knows it. He’s just lying to himself.
Isn’t there any other way to find enough money to keep us going a little longer?
Angel
Now that I'm a woman, everyone treats me a little differently. Men automatically avert their eyes so they don't seem like they’re looking at me too closely. The aunties treat me more like one of their equals. Now am I also an auntie? Sometimes I wonder. Not yet. First I need to be married, then I can take on a role looking after the businesses and chores and children in the compound.
But I did get a job. When I walk up to the reclamation shed, Mary and Annie are already there. Agatha beckons to me from the back of the room, sniffling.
She stands over a large pile of plastic bags in assorted colors. Most of them are black, but some are green or white or kind of translucent. She nudges one of the bags gently with her foot and it slides off the top in slow motion. I wonder if it's going to start an avalanche.
“You know what we do here, right?” she asks me. Apparently she's been assigned to train me.
I nod. “You sort through the donations… pull out what can be used, and bag up what can't.”
“That's right,” she agrees with a relieved sigh. I guess she didn't want to spend a lot of time going over the finer details anyway. “Make sure you save these white bags. Put everything back in the black bags that we are going to send away. The white bags are really useful around here.”
“Okay.”
“So just go through everything. Sometimes things are going to smell kinda weird, I have to warn you. Sometimes people think it's funny to give us a bag full of clothes that the dog peed on or something. But keep all the towels, all the sheets. Anything that's not too worn or beyond repair. Table cloths and shower curtains are especially good. I like the patterns on some of the shower curtains.”
