The Devoted (6 page)

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Authors: Eric Shapiro

BOOK: The Devoted
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This is why I’m not Him. Him? They would be dancing right now.

But no one’s gaze is coming near mine. Not even Jolie’s.

“All right, then,” I say, the embodiment of failure. “Group Talk Session starts in fifteen. I’ll see all of you there.”

Needing Jolie like a swimmer needs the shore, I go in her direction. And she in mine.

Then past me.

She slips her way, frowning, back into the door I came out of.

Last Day –
9:44AM

And now an emergency has graced our world.

‘Cause Group Talk Session starts in one, and Jolie is in the goddamn bathroom. Not our bathroom, the hallway bathroom.

And as if my heart’s not contorting enough, The Leader’s in His own room, some thirty feet away. I don’t know what He’s doing in there, but I hear a drawer opening and closing, and something like metal clanging atop wood.

He sees us, we’re fucked. He may not believe in time, but He hates lateness.

I tap the door with my knuckle, much preferring to knock. Much preferring, in fact, to split the fucking thing open with my fist.

“Jolie?” A hiss.

She’s fast to answer, which shows some commitment: “What?”
But she’s also crying, which sets off my alarms.

“Baby...” An impersonation of a calm, caring man. “What’re you doing in there?”

“What does it sound like?”

That question too loud. My head spins to the left. His doorway. Open. Light flowing from it. Not Him, though.

“Open the door,” I say. Better to be in there than out here.

“No.”

My stomach: taking punches from inside.

“Come on, Jolie. Please.”

And – then – strange – words: “Can’t do this anymore.”

A wildfire lights up my ears. If I could fuse my eyes to His doorway, I would. He’s deep in there, though, it seems. More clanging about.

But then I hear drawers closing. Finishing sounds.

“Jolie: quiet. What’re you talking about?”

“You don’t just switch things around.” Sounding hurt. “It’s the last day.”

“Babe, you gotta -- Let me in. Come on.”

“Knives?!” The word embedded with tears. “Is he fucking serious?”

My peripheral vision draws in a storm cloud. I turn.

It’s Him.

Staring.

My skeleton jumps before the rest of me.

“We’re starting the session now,” He says, words so dry they could crumble.

“Be right there,” I say, acting normal.

Only this right here is far from normal. He doesn’t wait, and I don’t make Him.

And Jolie: She certainly would never make me make Him.

Nodding, He walks away, yet even when He’s gone, I still feel like He’s watching. “Damn it.” This to myself.

“Jolie. We have to go. The session’s starting.”

This to her.

Last Day –
9:55AM: GROUP TALK SESSION

I get her, and I ignore the tears on her cheeks when she comes out, a fact for which I hate myself.

Though I hate myself more for being late, and the way my throat feels, I’ll be shocked the next time I swallow.

When we go into the living room, they’re all there, cross-legged on the hardwood floor. He sees us come in, though not with His eyes. It makes Him happy, our appearance, though He’s not about to actually look.

And in any event, Beth is speaking:

“It was the tabloids that really did it. I know they’re silly, and that I shouldn’t have cared. But I did. I would just buy them every day and root through them for any mention of me. Some days, it was like a game. Like, before I would open one up, I’d try to guess,
What awful thing are they saying about me now?

Beth, of course, is something of a celebrity. One of those shows where all the rooms are missing a front wall, and none of the lamps ever need to be turned on.

Jolie is maiming me as we walk, wiping the corners of her eyes.

“I didn’t know how
not
to care,” Beth says. “I didn’t know how to ignore it. How do you ignore cruelty, when it’s smiling right in your face like that?”

She, too, tries to talk like Him sometimes. And like me, she tends to fall short.

“Well, in this case, Beth, you were seeking it out by purchasing that nonsense.” The Leader’s tone is even; His content, scolding.

“You’re right. I was. I’m lucky I had my mom through it all, though. She kept me sane.”

We find our seats amongst them on the floor.

“Um. Anyhow.” Beth throws some of her hair back over one shoulder. “All that said, I’m so happy to be sharing tonight with all of you. This is long overdue for me.”

Beth looks down into her lap, her head like an upper lip descending.

Now Paul: “Can I say something?”

The Leader says, “Yes.”

Paul looks at Beth, who senses as much and looks back up.

“Thanks for sharing, Beth. You are so strong, and it inspires me to be strong.”

“Thank you,” she says, and I hear that it comes from her chest.

The Leader, no doubt preferring less banality, finally regards our presence. My torso collapses when I see His smile.

“My angels,” He says. “You made it.”

“Sorry to be late,” I say.

But not Jolie, who’s without regret.

“No!” The Leader’s reply is blaring. “Not a problem. We were just going around the circle and sharing whatever has been coming up for us on this beautiful morning. And perhaps one of you should be next. It looks like you both have something on your minds.”

I do my best to meet Jolie’s eyes, but like on the patio, they’re not available. It’s obvious, or should be, that she’s the one with the issue. But like outside, I’m the one absorbing the heat.

I say to The Leader, “Well...”

And then get rescued--

Jolie says, “Yes, actually. There is something.”

The Leader’s eyes go aglow. “We’d be delighted to hear it,” He says, and I think He might mean it.

Me? My torso’s retying its knots.

She says, “Matthew told us about the knives, and to be honest...”

Him: “Honesty. A noble attribute indeed.”

She tries to smile, but it’s like the muscles in her face weren’t built for it. “Uh, I don’t think this is for me.”

****

We stood there, in the rain.

We stood there, the nine of us.

We stood there, as He wept.

We stood there, watching the others all go.

We stood there, and said we’d be the ones.

We stood there, and made a sacred promise.

We stood there, and told Him that

Unlike Them

We would never, ever, ever leave Him alone.

Last Day –
9:57AM

“What my dear?” The Leader asks, and I’d like very much to go over and hug Him.

“I can’t do it. I mean, the blood. And the pain. It’s not--”

“Let me ask you something.” His words lean, like flattened-out lightning. “Do you think that it will be any more painful than what your father has done to you?”

Now the room goes cold entirely.

Beth and her mother, that’s one topic.

Jolie and her father...

“That’s different,” she says.

“How?” He wants to know.

“Well, I mean, I’ve never tried it before, but I would imagine that slitting your wrists would be pretty painful.”

“Painful, like how?”

“Physically.”

“And if there’s one thing about the physical world that I’ve taught you, what is that?”

“Well...” Chiseling coldness. “...that it doesn’t exist?”

“Exactly. Which means--?”

“That physical pain doesn’t exist.”

“Correct. And now, think back to your father.”

“I don’t want to.”

“This’ll only be for a minute.”

Jolie takes a breath.

“Think of the pain that he has inflicted upon you. The deep emotional scars that he has dug into your body. The wretchedness of it all. Years of scars crusted upon scars, crusted upon
other
scars. They aren’t physical; they aren’t surface-like; they’re deeper than that. They cut into your
heart
, not just your veins. You feel that, don’t you?”

And she says, “Yes.”

“And so, will you not be able to endure a mere moment of physical pain? Especially if it allows you to travel to eternity with the ones whom you love the most?”

Quietness like this, we may as well have left the planet already.

“I think I can,” she goes.

“I know you can.” And His voice has changed, indicating a rattling spike of pleasure. “You’ve come so far, my dear. In mere hours, you will release all the suffering in your heart for good. And no one will be able to hurt you anymore. I promise.”

And now she cries. But not like in the bathroom.

“I would love that so much,” she says to Him.

A gesture from The Leader, now.

We are to go to her, and hug her close.

Soon Jolie is surrounded, then in a latticework of arms. I find myself doing something odd, however.

I don’t join.

I watch.

This only happens for a moment.

The Observer.

But then I go. We all hold her, minus Him.

And Beth says, “Sweet Jolie.”

We sway.

And Jolie cries, then sighs, then laughs.

A laugh of ecstasy from deep inside.

From a C-ABC Interview with Chester and Monica True (11/4/11):

C-ABC: Tell us about your daughter, Jolie...

(Pause.)

C-ABC: Her name is French for “pretty,” is it not?

CT: It is.

MT: Yes, it is. And she is that.

C-ABC: We can only imagine how much you must miss her at this hour.

(Pause.)

CT: Oh, we do. We do. Very much. More than words... More than we’re able to be articulate about.

MT: We hope she can hear this, though.

CT: Yes.

MT: We hope that, Jolie... You can give life another chance.

CT: She was a talented girl.

C-ABC: An acumen for painting, music...

CT: Oh, yes sir. Painting, music. A very light spirit. She shined a light. And I can see how a man like...their commander, or whatever they call him...I can see how a man like that would want to be around her.

MT: ‘Cause she’s good. She’s really good.

CT: Yes sir. That is correct.

MT: She’s the type of person who will smile at you if she thinks you’re having a bad day. She sees the upside of things.

CT: Not this...garbage that’s being fed to her.

C-ABC: “Garbage,” you call it.

CT: Oh, yes sir. Bunch of dangerous ideas. Doesn’t help nobody but him.

From a C-ABC interview with Allison Roth (11/6/11):

C-ABC: And you’ve also been quite controversial in your statements about Jolie True...

AR: Only controversial to her family.

C-ABC: How is that?

AR: I’ve repeated what Jolie True told me.

C-ABC: Which is what?

AR: Which is that there was molestation in her home.

C-ABC: Despite the risk of a defamation lawsuit.

AR: They’ve talked about that, but I’ve claimed no knowledge of the facts, only what Jolie True told me: From a very young age, there was abuse in the home. If you want to call me in to talk about this lifestyle, then that’s part of it. What he did to me was not new to us. Many of us had been touched before in our lives.

C-ABC: And you feel that when it comes to Ms. True in particular, this led to what many are expecting to be a suicidal outcome?

AR: Yes.

(Pause.)

AR: It’s not normal when a girl behaves as she did. Very sweet. She never got in any fights. There were no problems. But when a young lady like her offers to...perform oral sex on you if you’re having a bad day...

C-ABC: She made this offer to you?

AR: She was promiscuous. Eventually, she had a boyfriend, and then the dirty mouth stuff ended. But it wasn’t unusual for her or many of the girls – and women – there to be sexually on display as a way of feeling good about themselves and keeping the leader happy. This was every day.

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