Imprints Read online

  “I see,” Dar said.

  “Look, if it makes you uncomfortable, I can leave.” They probably thought I was either crazy or a scam artist.

  Gabe turned to Dar, a question in his eyes. Dar let long seconds pass without speaking. I shook my head. “Never mind. I’ll leave. Thanks, anyway.”

  Dar’s hand shot out to my elbow. He had a strong commanding grip, as forceful as his speaking voice. “You will stay,” he said calmly. It was almost an order. To Gabe, he added, “I think we have a duty to offer Autumn a place with us. She’ll be safe at the farm, and I will take complete responsibility.”

  “Very well.” Gabe smiled at me. “Welcome to our family, Autumn.”

  Just like that I was back into his good graces. Even so, I felt a difference in the way Gabe studied me as I loaded my suitcase into one of their white vans. I told myself it didn’t matter. He was staying here, and I would be gone from the farm before he returned. That would have been a comfort if I hadn’t already learned that nothing ever turned out the way I expected.

  Chapter 12

  The van was a white, fifteen-passenger vehicle that was, according to Jake, prone to rollovers. The back seat had been folded down to accommodate our luggage, and I sat next to Jake in the middle of the remaining three rows of seats. Spring and her son were strapped in behind us.

  In front of us sat the angry young man, whose name I’d barely learned was Ronald before he announced that he was changing it to Blade. I thought that a little violent, but Dar smiled benignly and said something about the blades of grass growing long and verdant at the farm.

  Blade looked taken aback, but Jake said, “A double meaning. I like it.”

  Blade grinned. I thought the name fit his nature, if not his looks, which, from his muddy brown hair to his light brown eyes were rather ordinary. He was slighter than Jake and shorter, and when he wasn’t scowling or talking about his father, he was quite pleasant.

  On the same row sat the man in the ill-fitting suit. He had black hair and sunken cheeks and was slow of speech, stuttering occasionally, but his sad green eyes were alive with intelligence. He was taller than he looked because of the way his shoulders slumped and his body pulled inward, as though he was afraid of the world. I felt sorry for him, and I wondered who had broken his spirit. Or maybe his heart. He kept a briefcase on the empty seat between him and Blade. He called himself Menashe, which Jake later told me means “to cause forgetfulness” in Hebrew. I didn’t ask how he knew that because Jake was always coming up with interesting bits of information. He had cousins from the Caucasian side of his family who were Jewish, so maybe he’d picked it up from them.

  In the front two bucket seats sat Dar and one of his disciples, this one blond and scrawny with blotches of freckles, which had probably given him his name: Patches. He looked as though a wind might knock him over. Like many of the commune members, he had crooked teeth, which I knew shouldn’t matter, but ever since I had paid for my own braces in my early twenties, I noticed things like that.

  We were a silent bunch, though we did sing a few camp songs in the beginning, led by Spring and Patches, who had a surprisingly beautiful voice, though not as good as Jake’s and Dar’s. Their voices were richer and deeper. Blade couldn’t carry a note, and Menashe didn’t even try. I stopped after the first two songs because my cheek hurt when I sang. That was when I curled up on my seat and the empty one beside me and went to sleep. I would have preferred to lay my head on Jake’s lap, but he was to my left, on the side of my hurt cheek, so I had to be content to pillow my head on my arm. Besides, that might look a little too cozy since we were still trying to pretend we didn’t know each other.

  We got out once at a gas station to use the bathroom, eat, and stretch our legs. I looked around to see if I could spy Ethan’s blue van, but only when we were pulling out did I see him drive into the station. I caught Jake’s eye and nodded.

  Then it was back into our van, where I slipped off the tracking earrings because they were bulky enough to hurt my ears. I knew from television that tracking devices could be minuscule these days, and I wondered if Ethan had been sold or had borrowed ancient equipment. Maybe that’s just what happens when a math teacher turns PI. Still, his attractiveness made up for my discomfort. I ended up sleeping the rest of the way to the farm. Occasionally, I would wake enough to feel Jake’s hand on my back through the leather jacket he’d laid over me.

  “Autumn, we’re here.” Jake’s voice brought me gently to wakefulness. I heard Silverstar whimper and Spring hush him. By the dim light inside the van, I could see the disarray of Spring’s hair and knew that she had also made good use of her empty seat.

  “Come on,” Dar boomed. “Let’s meet the gang.”

  Darkness and trees filled my vision everywhere I looked, except for directly in front of us where a long, low-slung house stretched the length of two or three normal houses. A few feet of grass was neatly tended in the front of the house, bordered by a circular gravel drive. Music came from somewhere, stuff that sounded like what I remembered from square dancing in the fifth grade.

  Leaving our luggage in the van, we followed Dar toward the house.

  “Did you see a fence?” I whispered to Jake, sticking my earrings back into their holes. “When we came in, I mean.”

  He nodded. “About a mile back. I’d guess eight feet high but not chain link. Some thinner stuff tied to posts. Didn’t look very strong.”

  “Electrified?”

  “I don’t think so. It was kind of hard to see, but I think it was more the kind to keep animals in, not people.”

  “Good.” I relaxed slightly.

  “Heard them say this place is three hundred acres,” Jake added. “Somewhere beyond Rome, though they seem to have property in the town as well. We stopped for a few minutes at a building there while you were sleeping. Smelled really good, like a bakery.”

  Dar climbed the stairs to the rough porch that ran the entire length of the house, his ponytail bouncing. Instead of heading toward the door, though, he turned along the porch and went around to the back of the house. I took care where I placed my feet because the boards of the porch were so rough that even my callused feet were in danger of splinters. Unlighted windows periodically dotted the walls of the house, giving me the feel of a college dorm.

  The porch continued the entire way around the house, where two similar houses sat at right angles to the first, forming three sides of a square with space for the porches in between, as well as a bit of grass that led through to the square. On what would have been the forth side, rows of vegetables stretched out into the darkness. Trees in the dark forest on either side of the second and third houses loomed tall and protective.

  We had also located the source of the music. In the center of the square behind the house was a large patch of pavement where electric lights blazed on top of poles set at regular intervals. Near their bases, wood fires burned in metal barrels. “At least they have electricity,” I whispered to Jake when I saw the lights.

  “I saw windmills on a few hills some miles away. Dar said they belonged to Harmony Farm.”

  People filled the square, dancing to the music or talking with their friends. Most were in their twenties, but dozens scattered over other decades, including at least six babes in arms and two grannies in rockers. Laughter sounded above the music. There was a hoop for basketball, not currently in use, poles for a volleyball net, and a spacious sandbox in one corner. My attention was drawn almost immediately to the two long tables crammed with food. Apparently, they knew how to eat.

  “Looks like a family reunion,” Jake said.

  I didn’t know, since I didn’t have the large extended family he did. Though his parents were dead, he and his sister had a grandmother and more cousins than I would ever have known what to do with.

  Everyone was smiling and having a good time. The moon shed her light like a blessing upon the crowd. “Much more friendly than some families I’ve seen,” I commented.
r />   Dar gave a signal, and the music cut off abruptly. “Hello, everyone!” he boomed from our elevated position on the back porch. “Sorry about stopping the music, but I knew you’d want to meet our newest members.”

  Cheers met his proposal.

  He introduced us each by name and indicated that we should descend the stairs to meet our new family. As I stood at the bottom of the stairs, the people came toward me, waving their arms and lifting their voices in greeting. Some hugged me or kissed my undamaged cheek. Blade was already well into the crowd, taking advantage of his newbie status by firmly planting kisses on any willing girl in sight. To one side, Spring was almost surrounded by women holding babies.

  Menashe, on the other hand, stayed motionless on the middle stair, looking horribly uncomfortable. For no reason I could explain, I found myself moving in front of him, intercepting the well-wishers as they approached. Jake stood beside me, smiling and nodding with his professional storekeeper smile. Until that moment, I hadn’t realized he had a fake smile in his repertoire; he’d always treated his customers like friends. This was different. These people weren’t long-time customers or new acquaintances. They had an obvious eagerness to please that was painfully noticeable, almost an invitation to be taken advantage of. They didn’t know us, and yet I had the distinct feeling they would give me the last bit of food in their house or their only shirt off their back if I asked for it, all the while praising Founder Gabe for the opportunity to serve. For me, it was similar to walking into a room full of people like my adoptive parents. If I felt unbalanced by it, no wonder Jake and Menashe were a little tense.

  Dar descended two steps, reaching out a hand to rest on my shoulder. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to having so much family.” He gave both Jake and me a little push forward.

  The music began again, and we were drawn into the crowd. We danced, everyone twirling around without a care for specific partners. I started to loosen up, feeling pretty in my broomstick dress and not at all cold despite the night air. Most of the other women wore dresses, too, made of bright material, though of a more simple cut. Not old-fashioned exactly, but modest, with sleeves of various lengths. They wore no jewelry except the inexpensive beads I’d seen them selling at the riverfront. Most of the men and boys wore rough brown pants or jeans and dress shirts, mostly white or blue. A few of the younger children wore the commune T-shirts with their jeans.

  Jake was gazing around distractedly as he danced. I realized he was examining faces to see if Marcie and Victoria were here, and I began doing the same. If we found them tonight, everything would be resolved and we could go home. Jake caught up with me and put his arm around my waist, bending to whisper in my ear. “See them?”

  “Not yet.” Was it wrong to hope we didn’t find anything for a few days? Though I didn’t know how that would be possible because everyone seemed so open and friendly. If Victoria and Marcie were here, we’d run into them soon. “Maybe we should ask around.”

  Jake shook his head. “We’d better wait to get the feel of things.”

  I looked for Menashe and saw that he was at the food table. My own stomach growled. “I’m going to see what they’re eating.”

  “Better eat a lot,” Jake said. “Fast begins tomorrow.”

  “What?”

  He gave me a pained look. “Didn’t you listen to the spiel? New people fast for three days when they join. The rest of the community fasts with them.”

  “Oh, right. We have to begin right away?”

  “Apparently. I’d have been surprised if they didn’t require it. Fasting is a primary tool of psychological control. We should be grateful it’s only fasting from solid foods.”

  Three days, and I’d forgotten to smuggle in snacks! My eyes found Spring and her little boy in the crowd. How could she explain three days to him?

  “No, not the little ones,” Jake said as if reading my mind. “Under twelve don’t fast, and the twelve to fifteen do it for only one day.” He leaned over and whispered in my ear. “You really should do more research on the cults you join. Or at least listen during the meetings.”

  I hit him hard. “Let’s eat.”

  Before he could reply, he was swept away by the music and a few giggling pubescent girls, one of whom reached up to tug at Jake’s dreads. I grinned and made my way alone to the tables of food.

  I chugged down a delicious drink that tasted faintly of peaches and apples. Nonalcoholic, which was a good thing, because all the children were also drinking the mixture. There were banana muffins, pumpkin cookies, pies, meat dishes, salads, fruits, vegetables, all set out in beautiful homemade pottery dishes. I knew they probably didn’t eat like this every day, but I was still impressed that they could put on a spread like this in what was practically the wilderness.

  I ate. A lot. I vaguely wished Tawnia could be here to taste it all. Everything tasted as if it came straight from the garden or the fields, without a lot of vitamin-depleting processing. At the moment my heart was softened toward Harmony Farm. Bret was right when he had told me my heart was far too tied up with my stomach.

  I ate more. I knew that overeating would probably catch up with me eventually, so I was going to enjoy it while I could. Besides, there were those three days of fasting to consider. Though Winter had sworn that an occasional weeklong liquid fast was cleansing, I’d never gone for more than two days without solids.

  The trees above the houses danced a little in the evening breeze, scattering shadows over the tops of the roofs of both side houses. It would have been a little frightening to be out here alone, but with all the company and the music and the food, it was a slice of paradise.

  Which meant I needed to be careful not to grow too relaxed. I still hadn’t seen either Marcie or Victoria—and what did that mean? Either some people hadn’t chosen to attend the dance, or they couldn’t. Or maybe they had changed so much I couldn’t identify them among the more than a hundred faces.

  My gaze ran over the square again. Nothing out of the ordinary, except a long shadow near the far end of one of the side houses, as though a light was coming from outside the square and falling on something solid. But what? The shape of the shadow was tall enough to be human. Hoping no one noticed me, I slid in that direction, passing Menashe, who nodded and quickly looked away. He seemed relaxed now that no one was pestering him.

  The light faded quickly toward the end of the side houses, the shadow I’d seen nothing more than a darker splash on another shadow. Probably a pole of some sort, highlighted by a light someone left on in a window facing the garden. Yet as I approached the end, the shadow moved. My chest tightened in momentary alarm, but when the shadow disappeared altogether, I knew whatever had made it must have moved away around the houses and into the forest.

  The night had grown chilly, or maybe I was too far away from the burning barrels to feel the heat. I rubbed my bare arms as I debated following the shadow, but I’d watched enough TV to know what happens to nosy heroines. No, I wasn’t going tramping anywhere until I knew more about what I was up against.

  I eased back into the party. Jake was at the food table talking with Menashe. Blade and Spring were laughing and dancing. Dar was nowhere to be seen. Had he been the person behind the house? And so what if he had? He probably had a lot to check on now that he was back.

  Like a prisoner in a dark room?

  Then I saw his broad figure. He was standing by one of the heating barrels near the back porch of the front house, toasting bread on a stick and laughing with a woman who had long, straight black hair and pale skin. She seemed familiar to me, though I’d never seen her before, at least not with my natural eyes.

  Gabe’s wife, I thought. She was clearly attractive but not nearly as beautiful as in the imprint on his ring, the way he saw her. Her pale face was devoid of makeup, her skin smooth and translucent, and her laughing dark eyes were framed with long black lashes that were better than any store-bought paint. She had a face models craved—all but her nose, which was sli
ghtly too large for her oval face, and the noticeable scar on the left side that ran parallel to her jaw. Her figure was lithe and supple but not overly thin. In fact, she had nice curves, with hips a tad too wide for modern tastes, but for her they were just right. She was the picture of womanhood, childbearing, and motherhood. Earthy and comforting. But also mischievous. I could see that in her dark eyes. Something else that hadn’t been in her husband’s image of her. Even as I thought this, she reached out and tugged on Dar’s ponytail. He flicked it away from her as they both laughed.

  Dar caught my eye and beckoned. I went toward him, curious about this woman who had elicited so much feeling in a man, as though by watching her I could uncover the secret of making a man fall in love with me. Not just any man, of course, but the right man.

  I wondered if she loved Gabe as much as he loved her.

  “Autumn, this is Harmony.”

  Of course she was Harmony. Not only did the name fit her perfectly, but now I knew how the commune had found its name. “Nice to meet you,” I said. No last names were used here, but like her husband, she wore a thin band of gold. Not plain as his was but with facets cut across the surface so it caught and reflected the light.

  “Welcome to the farm.” She took my fingers and squeezed them as a friend might, and her skin was dry and cool against mine. Her ring didn’t make contact.

  “I actually thought it’d be more farm-like,” I said.

  Her laugh was bright, like a child’s. “You can’t see the two barns from here. Or most of the fields. We’ve cleared nearly a hundred acres. Most we use for grazing, but we grow all our own food. Gabe wanted to have at least our main barn closer than it is, but I convinced him to leave these trees and build it way out there.” She waved in the direction of the side house opposite our position. “Good thing, too, or you’d smell it.” We laughed with her.

  “What about the bathrooms?” I asked. “Do you have indoor plumbing?”

  “We have water piped to the kitchens and the bathing rooms indoors, but toilets are still outside for now.” She pulled a flashlight from a pocket of her dress. “They’re in the trees behind us, if you need them, not too far past this house.”