“Get dressed.” He stands from my bed, his hands balled into fists as he walks back to my door. “We have somewhere to be,” he blurts as he makes his way out.
“Where?”
“Indoctrination ceremony.” He steps into the hallway, swinging my door closed behind him.
I scurry to my closet, close the door behind me, and pull out an old shoebox. Lifting the box, I speak my Divine prayers and pull out a lighter and teaspoon. I flick the wheel, and the flame comes alive. Placing the head of the metal spoon into the flame, I continue to mutter the same words over and over for forgiveness of my sinful actions.
Once the metal glows, I know it’s ready for my sacrifice. I kneel and repeated the prayer once more before I bite my lip. When I place the metal on my inner thigh, the burning sensation courses down my leg. I swallow my scream and letthe pain and sorrow go straight to the Divine to wash me of my sins.
My bedroom door creaks open, and I rush to put everything back into place and exit the closet. A housekeeper comes in with my indoctrination clothing. They hung the beige and cream colors on the hook by my full-length mirror. It’s a brand-new outfit. Once it is up and on display for me to observe, they walk into the bathroom, start my shower, then leave so I can get ready.
I fall back onto my soft mattress, taking in a much-needed breath.
We hasn’t had an indoctrination in a few years, not with Mr. Donovan’s condition. Is Samuel fully in the position of the Vessel of the Divine? Or is he pushing the ceremony in hopes it would help him gain the vessel role faster?
Either way, it makes me nervous.
14
Eden
The induction went smoothly, but the girl entering our community is about the same age I was when I came to Everton. She scanned the crowd in the central lawn, looking back to Mrs. Donovan, Mr. Donovan, and me. Samuel talked to us about how great things would come from the addition, Melanie.
She seemed scared of being in the seat on stage. Hoping to ease her nerves, I smiled and nodded at her.
She was being brought into the Jonson household. They already have a little girl about her age, and that calms my concerns, knowing it isn’t another Lianne situation.
Still, a couple of internal alarm bells cannot be silenced. Everton saved me, and the Divine is always right in how welived our lives. I don’t want to speak ill of Them or even think those thoughts.
I won’t see the little girl again for a while, as she was to be bathed of her sins from her previous life and acclimated to Everton’s ways. I hoped to see her soon to check on how she is adjusting to life here. It has been a few days since then, and I still have yet to see her.
But until then, here I am, talking to Lianne at the cafe in town about her wifely duties. Now that she is in the full role as Mrs. Wellingburg, I could maybe ask more.
I never got to talk to her about how I feel or ask her questions I had when I found out Mr. Wellingburg had been her Divine’s choice of a husband all this time. But she seems happy with the role, so I don’t press it.
“You know, Mr. Wellingburg talked to me about being allowed to go to the club again when I wanted,” she says before biting into her blueberry muffin.
“Wait, what? The club we went to with Samuel?”
I’m baffled Mr. Wellingburg would even suggest such a thing. Many Everton husbands don’t allow their wives to partake in such things. Then again, Mr. Wellingburg always gave Lianne a lot of leeway when it came to life here.
“The very same. I guess every man in the community has a special membership there. He didn’t say much more but that wives are allowed to attend as well if their Chosen allowed it.” She smiled at me. “Think you can talk Samuel into letting you come along?”
“Yeah, right.” I snort. “Getting here was a chore. Besides, you saidwives. I am not anyone’s wife yet.”
“What if...you didn’t tell him?” Her eyebrows shoot out like she is surprised at herself.
Lianne would never really be surprised at anything that came out of her mouth.
“You mean lie,” I say flatly.
She looks to me, offended. “I didn’t saylie.I said not to tell him. There is a difference.”
“So, don’t tell him the truth.”
“Exactly. Now you get it.” She smiles. “And Mr. Wellingburg would never rat on us. I have him wrapped around my rebellious little finger.” She jabs a finger in the air and smirks, her face full of triumphant glee.
“I don’t know, Lianne. Samuel has been very... protective of my outings lately.”
