Mitchell had one of his sacks and he opened it up and pulled out a rubber ball. He and Barzee started tossing it around. They invited me to throw it with them, which was difficult because of the sagebrush and weeds. In addition, the mountain fell away on all sides of us, so we had to be careful not to let the ball roll away. Still, I joined in. We threw the ball in a triangle. Wow! Isn’t this great, I thought sarcastically. Here I am, playing catch with my new friends! I could have been down in the city, having a barbecue with my own family, looking forward to sleeping in my own bed, not worrying about getting raped that night. But instead, I got to be up here in a dirty white robe, throwing a ball around with two of the most evil people in the world.
Night came slowly. I was glad for that. I wanted to savor every moment that I wasn’t tethered between the trees. We had a simple picnic up on the mountain, then sat down and watched the sun go down. It was the first sunset I had seen in a month. The orange globe faded toward the Great Salt Lake on the west side of the city until it eventually dipped into the desert on the other side of the lake. It grew dark. We waited, sitting on the dry grass on top of the mountain. Eventually, we saw the first of the fireworks go off. They seemed so far away, little balls of sparks and fire. They were too distant to hear the sound, though if I listened very carefully, and if the wind was just right, I could hear the faintest rumble from the cannonballs that blew up in the sky.
Watching the fireworks, I felt more homesick than I had in weeks.
Once the last of the fireballs had faded, Mitchell was suddenly eager to get back to camp. He quickly gathered up what little he had brought up to the top of the mountain and started leading us down, his flashlight illuminating the way.
I felt like I had just experienced a glimpse of spring in the dead of winter and now I was being yanked back into the black of winter again.
Happy Fourth of July, I said to myself as I followed him in the dark.
*
After we’d made our way back down to camp, Mitchell stirred the fire pit to rouse the flame, then we sat around the fire. I considered it a real treat to have its comfort and its warmth. Barzee started cooking popcorn in a wok with olive oil and salt. As we talked, Mitchell seemed to watch me carefully, measuring the conversation as if he were waiting to say something important. I sensed that something bad was coming. After being with him in the most intimate of conditions for every moment of every day, I had a pretty good feel for his moods and intentions.
He stood up to throw a small log upon the fire, then looked at Barzee. “I think the time has come,” he said.
My heart sank. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I knew it wasn’t good. And I couldn’t imagine what could be coming that was worth the power of announcing the time has come.
Barzee started shaking her head. “Oh no, not this.”
“Yes, it is time,” he said.
My heart sank even further. I turned and studied his face. His dark eyes were sullen underneath his bushy eyebrows. His hair was long and greasy and parted in the middle, his beard full and powdered with tentacles of gray. It didn’t matter. He was repulsive and ugly. Wild. Evil. Dark and menacing. He had taken on the image of his master and he looked like a devil now. And Barzee was no better. Her hair hung in strings at the side of her head. Her face was blotchy from the constant sun. Thick lips. Puffy eyes. Her eyebrows were almost gone.
Mitchell looked at Barzee, his eyes seeming to pierce the dark. Though he kept his face toward her, he was talking now to me. “The Lord has commanded us to do something. It is so hard for me to tell you, but it is time for…” He named a certain sexual practice.
My mind raced in panic. What? What is that? I had no idea what it meant. Then it hit me, my heart slamming in my chest as the most disgusting image crawled out from somewhere in the deepest recesses of my mind.
The words that he had spoken came again into my mind. The Lord has commanded!
What kind of god is this, I had to wonder.
In my darkest nightmares, I couldn’t imagine anything that was worse than what I had been living through every day. But I guess that I didn’t have a good enough imagination, for I had not imagined this.
Barzee shook her head again but then seemed to concede, her head slowly coasting to a stop. Having convinced her—a battle that had taken all of ten seconds—Mitchell turned his attention back to me. The shadows seemed to flicker from the fire, dancing images against the trees. Mitchell’s face turned a shade darker. “Barzee and I are going down into the tent.”
Yes! Yes! That’s good. You two! Do whatever! I thought. Just please don’t involve me!
“Then tomorrow we’re going to demonstrate. And after that, you and I…”
I lowered my head and closed my eyes. I had never been to a slaughterhouse before, but that’s exactly how I felt. I was nothing but a sheep being led to the slaughter. I wanted to die. I shook my head in despair.
Mitchell and his wife stood up and disappeared into the tent, leaving me to sit by the fire.
I felt as if I was completely alone in a world that had been turned on its head. I felt as if I didn’t have a friend. I had reached a point where I wasn’t able to fight them any longer. Whatever they told me, I simply did. I had lost every ounce of dignity. Every ounce of pride. Every sense of my inhibitions.
But not this … please, not this … I was praying in my mind.