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We’ve only just arrived at a city on the East Coast, as far from California as it’s possible to get without leaving the country.
She wasn’t a high-ranking member. She hasn’t been publicly outspoken.
There’s no reason for them to come after us.
“That sounds great.” I plaster a smile on my face, hoping she buys it and can’t tell how exhausted I am. “I can’t wait.”
Her smile is shakier than mine, her eyes trembling a little, too. It’s like all the tension is contained within her expression.
“I’m trying my best, Ruby.”
I stand, walk over to her bed, sit and place my hand on her shoulder. How she whips her hand up, eager for human contact, shatters my heart again. It’s difficult not to feel her pain, to let it tear me up.
“I know, Mom. You’ve always done your best. You’re a good person. I understand you’re scared. I am too. I love you.”
She leans forward, wrapping her arms around me as I sink against her. An unfair notion touches me, leaving me stranded and feeling like I’m buried with no way to escape.
I feel like the mother here, the one in charge.
It’s like all the responsibility weighs me down, all the effort of keeping us moving forward, of stopping Mom from breaking down.
“I love you too,” she whispers, squeezing me tighter. “I just hope everything turns out okay.”
* * *
The apartment is rundown and a little crappy like they all are. We lived in nice places in the first couple of months, buoyed up with Pete’s money.
But our money has dwindled since we’ve moved so many times – five times in two years.
The shower’s water pressure is merely a trickle. The carpets are thin. There’s a spot of dampness in the corner of the bathroom, spreading across the wall and the ceiling, it’s ugly and depressing. A reminder of how far we’ve got to go.
After showering, I quickly towel off, shivering a little.
The day was warm, but the night has suddenly become cold. There’s no way I’m going to turn the heat on, though, not with prices how they are. I’ll just have to wrap up warm.
Mom’s finally asleep on the couch, wrapped in her blanket.
We’ve only rented a one-bedroom place as per usual since money is so low. I normally take the couch, but I can see Mom’s wrapped herself up snugly, her cheek resting on the pillow, eyes closed peacefully.
There’s no way I’m disturbing her.
Quietly, I go to the suitcase with the bedding in it, taking it out while making as little noise as I can.
The mattress on the bed is thin, squeaking as I put the sheets on. There’s a stain near the bottom, yellow, and I decide not to think about it. It’s the same everywhere we go.
Don’t think about the broken cupboard. Don’t think about the weird sound the toilet makes. Don’t think about anything.
Lying in bed, I try to focus on my nursing textbook.
It’s tattered, and the corners are turned inward. It’s six years old. I found it at a Goodwill store, and my heart began to skip a little quicker when I first laid a hand on it.
That was the plan originally, what Mom told me before we left.
“You’ll be able to study, Ruby. They won’t be able to stop you anymore.”
The cult had two problems with my desire to be a nurse. One was that I wasn’t planning on a job within the commune; their description of ajobmeant working twelve-hour days for a pittance.
The second was that they hate medicine. They think it’s dark magic.
