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I swallowed hard as I sat there, still trying to listen, focus, and understand.
"Stanley, you keep saying that story about the sheep is in the Bible, and I just can't find it. I've looked and looked, and I can't find it anywhere. I have never heard of a shepherd breaking a sheep's leg. Google said it's false. The place you quoted says He leads me beside still waters and to green pastures. It doesn't say anything about breaking the sheep's legs."
"That's because you don't know anything about the Bible, Claudia." Stanley didn't raise his voice but he spoke with contempt, and my heart was absolutely pounding. "You, in your feeble mind, in your feeble thinking, you concentrate on the part of that chapter that makes you comfortable. Of course, you want the green pastures and the still water all the time. But you're forgetting about the rod and the staff.Thy rod and thy staff,they comfort me," he said in a preacher's tone. "What do you think a shepherd does with a rod? Do you think he walks with it like a cane because he has a bad back? No. It's for discipline and control. It's out of love that the shepherd breaks the sheep's leg. It makes him stay close and depend on that shepherd. It is the shepherd's duty to care for the sheep, and it is a known fact that a shepherd would have to break a sheep's leg if he kept wandering away from the flock. If it wanders, it will go astray. Breaking a leg is a type of pain that is short-term it will save her from a lot of long-term pain."
"I don't like her in pain like this, Stanley. She woke up crying."
"That just shows your lack of faith, Claudia. That's what discipline is."
"Corey's gonna be fine," I heard John say.
I leaned back. I felt nauseous at the thought that they were all three here. They all knew about this. I swallowed against the urge to throw up. All three of them were in on some kind of plan to hurt me. The hole in the ground.It had been dug for me?Was I supposed to break my leg?The implications of all of it got a little lost in my dazed reality, but I knew something was very wrong. I felt instantly sick.
"That guy who came into the store… he's a Hollywood guy. Some actor. They do some demented things in Hollywood. I mean, just to get famous, you have to be willing to sell your soul."
It was John who made this statement, and my blood felt hot with anger because he didn't know a single thing about Owen.
"That girl would have turned tail and followed him if we didn't intervene," Stanley said. "We know that by the fact that she lied about texting him and meeting him. We've saved her from herself. She would have gone off and gotten used up, and then ended up homeless and on the streets somewhere. Youknow she's attracted to bad men. It's because of your past. Look at yourself and the type of men you used to choose. That stuff is genetic, a generational curse."
"I'm sorry," my mom said.
Stanley started walking. I could hear his distinct footfall again, and I jumped, feeling frightened. It was at that moment that I had the realization that claiming to be a Christian didn’t make you a nice person. All these years, I had Stanley on some kind of pedestal because he was a preacher. I thought he had inside access to God—that his interpretation of the Bible was right just because he told me it was right.
But in recent years I had realized that the words inside the Bible didn't always line up with Stanley and his choices. At that moment, I wanted to run from him. At this point in time, Stanley was no better than my father, the man my mother had run from all those years ago.
He was telling my mom that he was trying to protect me from the bad guys, and he had become the bad guy.How was my mother in on this? How did she think it was okay?There were three of them in the living room, and I suddenly felt trapped, physically trapped. There was a clock by my bedside, and I glanced at it. It was after 10am, and I desperately tried to figure out whether or not Owen would still be at our spot. He wouldn't. I was supposed to be there hours ago. And how would I get there, anyway?
My mind was swimming. I heard more walking and my mom's voice getting louder, and hopped back into my spot on the bed. It took a few seconds, but before long I heard the door open.
I pretended to sleep.
This was my life, and all of a sudden, I felt like I was in a movie—and not a good movie, but a scary one. I stirred, opening my eyes and seeing my mother coming to my bedside. She waswearing a caring, sweet, cautious smile, and I was horrified, but I acted like I knew nothing. I pretended to wake up restlessly.
"Are you in pain?" she asked, whispering. "I brought medicine. You woke up in pain a minute ago."
"I'm not in pain. I don't need that. And what did the doctor say? I remember talking to her, but I can't remember. How long do I have this on my foot? Is it four weeks? Six? How long am I keeping this cast? How fast am I done with this?"
A smile spread across her face. "I didn't even know if you'd remember all that. They gave us so much information last night when we checked out. I didn't even think you were ready. I'm so glad you… are you sure you don't want this?" she asked, holding out her hand with the medicine.
My mind was already so hazy that taking another pill was the last thing I was going to do. "I'm not in pain. What did the doctor say? And where did that hole come from? I stepped in a gigantic hole in the yard."
She laughed. "That's what we were saying… we were wondering what in the world caused that hole you stepped in. That was scary."
"You saw it. It was two feet deep."
"N-no-o." She said disagreeing with me. The word came out sheepishly and in about three syllables.
"Yes, it was, I broke my leg stepping in it. I want to go out to the driveway and see what's out there. In fact, I want to go for a drive."
She laughed. "Corey, slow down, sweetheart. I am so happy you feel good enough to even talk like this, but it's going to be a while before you drive anywhere."
"Why?"
She smiled. "Because it's your right foot. How are you going to press the gas pedal?"
I stared at her. She was smiling at me like she expected me to have a good attitude.
"I really am glad you want to get moving. John and I brought your workbench home and all of your supplies so you can work. We've got a lot of orders. That'll cure your boredom."
