Linda Warren - Forgotten Son

“Sure. A woman is the last thing on my mind.”

“If you’re in need of female comfort, let me know and I will arrange something.”

Eli managed to suppress his shock. Did they share the women? It was too sickening to think about.

“You will have a trial period, then you’ll be asked to join us in our beliefs or to leave.”

“I understand and thank you.”

The words tasted like sawdust in his mouth.

“We don’t have extra sleeping quarters, but there are some heavy quilts you can use to sleep under the stars, or if the weather is bad, you can sleep in the eating area.”

“Thanks,” Eli said again.

“Brother Michael and his sons are cutting wood. Brother Samuel will take you to help them.”

“Sure,” Eli replied, and they left. Outside he wanted to suck fresh air into his lungs, but he resisted and followed Samuel through the woods to the chopping site.

Eli kept searching for something out of place, something to indicate that Caroline Whitten was here. The place had an eerie quiet about it. The grass and trees were green and the air was fresh and invigorating, but he didn’t hear any birds or other sounds in the woods. It wasn’t an eerie quiet, he decided. It was a deathlike quiet.

They reached the site. A big dead tree had been felled and Michael and his sons, Daniel and David, were cutting it up with handsaws. Two mules hitched to a wagon waited nearby. Eli was introduced and Samuel left.

Eli helped load the cut wood until his arms ached and he was soaking with sweat. Finally the last piece of wood was on the wagon and they headed to the compound. Michael drove the mules and Eli walked behind with the boys. They had to be around fourteen and fifteen and were already sprouting beards.

“That’s a lot of wood,” Eli commented, trying to get information. “Does it last very long?”

“Not too long,” the older one, David, said. “We use it to cook.”

“And we need it for the wedding,” Daniel added.

“A wedding?”

“It’s going to be a big one. The prophet’s taking his seventh wife. It’s very important ’cause—”

“Daniel!” David exclaimed in a reprimanding tone.

The youth hung his head as he realized he’d misspoken.

“Hey, no problem,” Eli assured them. “The prophet helped me out when I needed it and I’d love to be at his wedding to show my support and appreciation. I don’t know much about your faith but I’m willing to learn.”

“My brother doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” David said, and the boys ran toward the compound.

Eli stopped. Daniel knew what he was talking about. Caroline Whitten was marked as wife number seven. She was here. But where?

Caroline, where are you?

ELI KEPT HIS EYES AND EARS open, but he didn’t detect any evidence of Caroline. Supper was in the eating area and the men ate at a crudely made table. The meal was vegetable soup, bread and goat’s milk. After the women waited on the men, they sat on the floor and ate with the children. He noticed that most of the women were blond and young, probably in their late teens or early twenties. Two appeared to be in their thirties, and an older woman, maybe forty, with grayish-blond hair, seemed to be in charge.

One woman caught his eye. She had dark hair and eyes and looked out of place among the blondes. He wondered how she fitted in here. The other women made her do most of the kitchen work, and they shouted orders at her as if she were a servant.

After supper, the men had a meeting, and Eli was introduced to them more fully. It was clear that Samuel was Amos’s right-hand man. Ezra and Peter took care of security, along with four Dobermans. Nathaniel and Michael were in charge of maintenance of the compound, which meant they supplied firewood, tended to the vegetable fields and the goats and chickens. Amos informed Eli that he’d be working with Michael, then he was dismissed with another warning to stay away from the women.

He looked around, but since it was dark he couldn’t see much. He listened at the door to Buford’s house, then gave up when he couldn’t make out any of the muffled voices. But they were making plans—plans for a wedding. He hurried away before the men came out.

Later the group met around the campfire and the dark-haired woman brought out an ornate chair for Buford. Everyone sat on the ground and Amos began to preach. He spoke of hell, damnation, sinners and salvation. It was hard for Eli to listen, but he stoically kept a rein on his emotions.

Afterward, the men hugged Buford and the women and children bowed at his feet. This was even harder to watch—how these women had been subdued into servitude, yet praised his name the whole time.

The men retired to their huts with their wives and children. Eli watched the dark-haired woman. She didn’t follow any of the men. Instead, she went to the kitchen area. His curiosity grew, but he didn’t want to cause any dissention that would get him kicked out of here—not until he knew where they were keeping Caroline.

Nathaniel brought him two old quilts, and Eli lay under the stars. The Dobermans guarded the compound and Ezra was out walking them around the fence. This was Eli’s opportunity to inspect the area.

He’d noticed the rickety barn earlier and now saw a corral for the mules. The chickens had gone to roost for the night and the goats were lying around the barn. He was careful not to disturb them.

From the light of the moon, Eli saw a wooden door on the ground not far from the back of Buford’s house. He crept forward to check it out. The door opened easily, but creaked loudly in the process. Waiting to make sure no one had heard, he investigated.

He followed steps down into a dark hole—a cellar of some kind. With his hands outstretched he felt walls of dirt braced with plywood. There were shelves filled with jars.

It was a vegetable cellar—the type used in olden days to store jars so they wouldn’t freeze in the winter and would stay cool in the summer. There was enough food here to last a year. And the cellar provided shelter from tornadoes and bad weather.

Eli wasn’t sure how the ceiling was supported, but it had to be braced with something. He kept searching with his hands, but all he felt was wood, jars and dirt. The FBI had already checked out the room. Had they missed something? He could see nothing in the darkness, and decided to return in daylight.

Climbing the steps, Eli closed the door carefully, making as little noise as possible. A makeshift shed was used for storing feed for the animals, and he made his way there.

He saw no trace of Caroline.

Eli hurried back to his pallet before Ezra returned, feeling his frustration mounting. He fell into a fitful sleep.

The cult’s morning ritual was much the same as the previous night’s. Everyone was up at five and the women served breakfast after Buford gave the blessing. The prophet preached again, then everyone went to work except Buford. He asked to see Eli in his quarters.

Eli followed him to the same room as yesterday. Peter waited outside at the door, with Ezra, who was tending to the dogs.

“Have a seat, my brother,” Amos said, sitting at a small table holding papers, books and a worn Bible. This furniture was not rough or crude. It had probably been brought in specially for Buford and his needs.

Eli did as instructed, wondering what this was about.

Amos folded his hands over the Bible. “You have been with us for a day and night. How do you like it here?”

“Very peaceful and quiet.”

And disturbing.

“Yes. We live close to God and the earth. But we have to build high fences to keep the bigots and naysayers out.”

And the law.