“Clara,” Christian says. “You’re the strongest person I know.”
“You don’t have to shoulder all this by yourself,” Billy says. “I’m here for you, kid. And this guy’s sure here for you.” She jerks her chin at Christian. “We’re all on Team Clara, everybody in this meadow, every single one of us in your corner, even Julia.” She grimaces, and I stifle a laugh that comes out as a sob. “Sure, things are dark right now. Put us one-on-one against the Black Wings, we’re all weak. We’re scared. We’re easily defeated. But together we’re a force to be reckoned with.”
I nod, dry my eyes on my shirt, and try to smile. It’s not fair of me to expect too much from the congregation. They’ve tried to help us in every way they could. They even offered to send a couple scouts to look for Jeffrey this week, to warn him, but I didn’t think he’d listen to any of them.
“We’ve got to lean on each other,” Billy says, squeezing me.
“Thanks.” I shift my weight to lean heavily against her, and she laughs.
“That’s my girl. Now come on. Let’s get you two on the road.” She keeps her arm around me as we walk to the edge of the meadow. “You call me,” she says, at the point where we’re supposed to say good-bye. “Anytime, day or night. I mean it. I’ve got your back.”
“Wait,” I say. I turn to Christian. I want to join the congregation, I say, and I don’t know why it embarrasses me to tell him, but it does. Officially, I mean, I clarify, since it seems like, in some ways, I’ve been a member of this group all along.
I’ve been thinking about this for the entire fourteen-hour drive from Nebraska. Longer than that, even. I’ve thought about becoming a member of the congregation since the first time I came to this meadow. Mom and I had a talk about it. I asked her, “So will I be expected to join the congregation now?” and she smiled and said it was something I would have to decide for myself.
“It’s not something to be done lightly,” she said. “It’s a great commitment, you understand, binding yourself to these people, to this cause, for life.”
“Commitment?” I repeated. “Well, when you put it like that, maybe I’ll wait.”
She laughed. “When the time is right, you’ll know,” she said.
It feels like the time is right.
Do you mind waiting? I ask Christian.
No, of course not, he says. He understands. He joined the congregation last year, but he doesn’t often talk about why.
I did it because I wanted to be part of them, he says. I know on the outside they might seem like a bickering, badgering, half-dysfunctional family, but underneath all that, they’re trying to do the right thing. They’re fighting on the side of good, in every way they know how.
He’s remembering the way they came together after his mother was killed. Protected him. Comforted him. Stopped by with meals so he didn’t starve while his uncle learned how to cook for a ten-year-old vegetarian. They became his family, too.
I turn to Billy, who’s been waiting patiently for me to say something out loud. “I don’t know the rules, if I have to be invited or perform some special task or something, but I want to join the congregation. I want to fight on the side of good.” My voice wobbles on the word fight, because I can’t fight. I’ve already proven that. But this isn’t a fight with glory swords they’re talking about. Christian’s right—it’s family, the only family I have left. I need to do something. I need to stand for something tangible and good, the way my mother did. I need to try. “Can I do that, before I go?”
“You bet,” she says, and she takes me to find Stephen. We find him reclining in one of those collapsible camping chairs near his tent, reading a large leather-bound book.
“Clara would like to join us,” Billy tells him.