Deceived: Lured from the Truth (Secrets) (22 page)

Then I feel around until I reach the water, drinking it as well. Finally I crawl back to the mattress, and after I lie down, I quietly sing old praise songs, ones I learned in church, as many as I can remember … until I fall asleep.

I have no idea what time it is when I wake up. As usual, I’m surprised at the thick black darkness all around me. I blink and blink, thinking my eyelids have been glued shut. But then I remember where I am, and I feel like sobbing and crying and pounding my fist into this smelly mattress. But instead I pray.

“Please, God,” I cry out. “Please, please help me. I know you’ll give me the strength I need to endure this. You’ve been giving me strength all along. But I’m starting to wear out. My stomach hurts. I feel weak. Please, God, please help me to get out of here.
Please
.”

I want to be stronger. I want to have more faith. But I feel beaten here in the darkness. And now I’m sobbing again as my faith is being shaken to the core. Finally, the only thing I can do is to recite the shepherd’s psalm. I say it over and over, again and again and again. Eventually I just keep repeating these lines: “Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me …”

The next time I wake up, it’s still dark, yet somehow I know it’s daytime out there. But no one comes to turn on the light. No one brings me my watery oatmeal. I just sit here, trying not to be afraid. Once again, I go through all I can remember of Bible verses. I sing songs. And mostly I pray. But it feels like hours have gone by and I think I’ve been forgotten completely. Like they have truly locked me up and thrown away the key.

I’m tempted to pound on the door and scream for help, but I might get more attention from them by remaining silent. Maybe they will think I’ve died and send someone in to carry me away. In fact, this gives me an idea. What if I lie down and act like I’m deathly ill? Would that be enough for them to take me out of here?

As much as I’m thirsting for water right now, I’m also thirsting for light. And then I remember those are two of the things that Jesus promised. “You are the light of the world,” I say quietly. “You are my living water,” I say this over and over and am surprised at how comforting it is.

Suddenly the light comes on, and shielding my eyes from the blinding glare, I sit up, completely forgetting my earlier plan to play possum.

“Rachel!” a woman’s voice cries.

Blinking into the brightness, I squint to see a woman — who looks like my mom — lunging toward me. She takes me in her arms, holding me and rocking me like a small child. “Oh, Rachel, Rachel. Are you all right?”

“Mom?” My voice comes out raspy as I peer at her. “Is it really you?”

“Get her out of here,” says a man’s voice.

I peer up to see a strange man standing behind her.

“What’s happening?” I ask, confused.

“Come on,” Mom urges, helping me to my feet. “We’re leaving. Now.”

“But how?” I ask as she leads me out. “Won’t they stop us?”

“No one is going to stop you,” the man says.

“That’s Detective Harris,” Mom tells me as she leads me down a long hallway and up some dimly lit stairs. “Josiah helped us.”

“Josiah?”

We’re inside of what looks like a normal kitchen now, and I remember that I was in Clarence’s house. But it all feels strange and dreamlike. “Is this real?”

Mom’s arm is wrapped around my shoulders as she leads me. “It all seems pretty surreal to me,” she says quietly.

We go past a room where uniformed policemen appear to be holding members of this household. I recognize several faces, including Glory’s. I pause, pointing into the room. “That girl,” I urgently tell the detective beside me. “Glory. She’s underage, and they’re going to force her to marry Clarence.”

The detective nods. “We’ll get to the bottom of this later, Rachel. Let’s get you outside now.”

There are several black-and-white police cars out there as well as some dark-colored cars. My mom and the detective lead me to a slate-colored sedan with tinted windows, and we slide into the backseat. To my surprise, Josiah is sitting in the front passenger side. The detective gets into the driver seat, and to my relief, the car begins moving.

“Are you all right?” Josiah asks with what seems like genuine concern.

“I — uh — I think so.”

My mom reaches into a bag by her feet and hands me a bottle of water. I eagerly take a sip. I think I’m in shock, trying to absorb all of this. My mom? Josiah? The police? “How did this happen?”

“That’s what we want to know,” Detective Harris says as he drives past the dairy barn. “I have lots of questions. But first we’ll take you to the clinic at the resort to make sure you’re okay.”

Mom is still holding me close to her. Almost as if I’m five years old again. I look at her, studying her face and trying to grasp what’s happening. But she looks nearly as confused as I feel. “How did you do this?” I ask her. “How did you know where to find me?”

She nods to Josiah, who is turned around in the seat, peering at me. “You should ask him.”

“But he abandoned me,” I say in a hurt tone.

“No, I did not.” He frowns.

“You and Monique,” I say. “You ditched me here and — ”

“That’s not how it happened.”

“Let him tell you,” Mom says gently.

I take another sip of water and wait.

“I was leaving the grounds, just like usual, to do my deliveries,” he begins. “But before I got to the gates, I saw Monique walking along. I remembered what you said about her wanting to get away before they forced her to marry Clarence. So I stopped and picked her up, planning to drop her off at the bus stop in town. But before I got there, a patrol car pulled me over. I was accused of stealing my uncle’s truck, which is ridiculous. But I had to go to jail anyway.”

“He called Nadine from the jail,” Mom tells me.

“Nadine?” I try to imagine this. “To bail you out?”

“No. I called her to get help for you,” he explains. “I was worried about you, Rachel.”

“For good reason,” Mom says.

“Unfortunately, Nadine didn’t buy my story at first,” Josiah tells me. “She couldn’t believe that Lost Springs Dairy was such a diabolical sort of place.”

“But a couple days later Nadine called me,” Mom says. “Apparently she did her own research and decided that Josiah’s warning was legit. Of course, I was skeptical when she told me all this. It sounded so far-fetched and crazy. Besides, as I told Nadine, you were too sensible to get pulled into something like that.”

“I’m not as sensible as you think,” I mutter.

“You were deceived,” Josiah says. “By my uncle. I was deceived too. And so are the others. I’ll admit that I wanted to believe he was building something good. Even more so when you came to live there. But the more I found out, the worse it all felt to me. And every time I questioned my uncle, he got angry. The last straw was when he had me arrested. That was unbelievable. After he pressed charges, he came to the jail, warning me never to show my face at Lost Springs again. That’s when I knew you were in serious trouble.”

I just nod, but a chill runs down my spine to remember how it felt to be locked up like that. So helpless and alone.

“I’m so sorry I ever brought you here, Rachel. When I think what might’ve happened to you …” He grimly shakes his head.

“So how did you get out of jail?” I ask. I cannot miss the irony of how we were both locked up at the same time. Although being in jail sounds preferable to where I was being held.

“Nadine covered my bail to get me out,” Josiah explains. “She even helped me to get a lawyer. And when the authorities heard my story, they were pretty interested.”

“It took a couple of days to get the warrants in place,” the detective says as he drives. “But we couldn’t risk coming in here without having everything in order. Not if we wanted to make arrests and make them stick.”

“I was so worried,” Mom tells me. “I was staying with Nadine, but I called some of our old church friends and asked them to pray for you. Alice McIntire put you on a prayer chain.”

“They have a prayer chain?”

“Yes. And they’re having church services too. At a school. Alice got about fifty people praying for you, Rachel. They were praying ’round the clock.”

“Wow.” I let out a sigh. “I think I could feel it.”

Mom squeezes me. “I’m so thankful you’re okay.” She peers curiously into my eyes. “You are okay, aren’t you? They didn’t hurt you … or anything?”

“I’m okay,” I assure her as I take another sip. “Well, besides being hungry. But really, I’m better than okay.”

“How is that possible?” she asks. “I saw where they were keeping you.” She grimaces. “I’ve never seen anything so horrible. That place was disgusting. And being all alone in the darkness like that. I can’t even imagine.”

“But I wasn’t alone,” I say. “God was with me. He was my light in the darkness. He was my living water when I was thirsty.”

The car is silent and Mom looks stunned.

“You’re a strong girl, Rachel Hebert.” Josiah smiles at me, and I can see the open admiration in his eyes.

“Thanks for helping me,” I shyly tell him. “I mean, by calling Nadine and talking to the police.” I feel unsure around him … wondering what our relationship will be or if we are finished. For all I know, he could be going back down under. “I honestly thought you’d abandoned me.”

“I would never do that, Rachel.”

“What will you do now?” I ask him. “Where will you go?”

“Nadine has offered him a job managing the ice cream shop,” Mom tells me.

“Seriously?” I study Josiah’s profile as he looks out at the cows grazing peacefully in the meadow. We’re nearly to the security gates now. “Will you do that?”

“We’d sure appreciate it if he stuck around here awhile,” the detective says. “Until we get this case wrapped up.”

“What about me?” I ask. “Won’t you need my help too?”

“You are going home with me,” Mom declares.

“Yes,” Josiah says in a protective way. “I think you’ll be safer there.”

“We’ll take your deposition at the station,” the detective informs me. “And we’ll be in touch with you as needed regarding the upcoming trial. But Josiah and your mom are right, Rachel. You need to go home now.”

I look into Josiah’s eyes, knowing I will miss him.

“I’d like to stay in touch,” he says quietly — as if reading my mind.

“Me too.” I take another swig of water, amazed at how good it tastes.

Mom is holding my hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I can’t believe all you endured, Rachel.” She peers into my eyes as if searching for something. “You’ve been through so much. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m even better than okay. I know it probably doesn’t make complete sense. And some might think an ordeal like that would make a person crazy. But I actually found the truth in that horrid prison cell.
God’s real truth
. And even when I was still locked up, that truth really did set me free.”

[DISCUSSION QUESTIONS]

1. Rachel describes herself as an “old-fashioned” girl. On a scale of one to ten (1 = Laura Ingalls; 10 = Lady Gaga), how would you rank yourself? Explain why.

2. Why do you think Belinda and Lorna decided to frame Rachel in the missing-money scam at Nadine’s? What could Rachel have done to handle that situation differently?

3. Do you think Rachel’s crush on Josiah influenced her interest in attending his uncle’s church? Have you ever been influenced by a crush? If so, describe.

4. What was your first impression of Lost Springs? If you’d been Rachel’s friend, what would you have said to her about the place?

5. A lot of people were living at Lost Springs. What sort of things do you think had initially drawn them to it?

6. What would you describe as the most attractive part of Lost Springs? The least?

7. Rachel and Josiah felt they were spiritually tricked and deceived by Reverend Jim. Have you ever been deceived like that? Explain how that made you feel.

8. How would you define a cult church?

9. List five ingredients you believe contribute to a healthy church.

10. Do you know anyone who’s involved in a cult church? If so, how does that make you feel? Is there anything you’d like to say to that person?

11. What kinds of safeguards are in your life to prevent you from ever being deceived like Rachel was?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

MELODY CARLSON has written more than two hundred books for all age groups, but she particularly enjoys writing for teens. Perhaps this is because her own teen years remain so vivid in her memory. After claiming to be an atheist at the ripe old age of twelve, she later surrendered her heart to Jesus and has been following him ever since. Her hope and prayer for all her readers is that each one would be touched by God in a special way through her stories. For more information, please visit Melody’s website at www.melodycarlson.com.