“It is clear to me now,” he concluded. “California was supposed to be a test of our faithfulness. But the Lord has other plans in store for me now.”
God. Plan. Test of faithfulness. The whole thing was absurd! God wasn’t testing his faith. There was no plan. There was no divine guidance or heavenly intervention. Mitchell was a dirty old man who wanted another child to satisfy him. That’s the only thing this was about. He knew it. Barzee knew it. There was no godly mystery here.
Still, I didn’t say anything. I was way beyond ever trying to talk to him, let alone ever trying to argue with him.
God bless that little girl, was all I thought.
32.
High Camp and Hustler
For the next two weeks we did pretty much nothing but sit around being bored and hungry. I was only allowed to leave the fire swamp once a week. It was a miserable time, Mitchell always talking, Barzee always whining about being confined to the camp, a constant hot wind, the creepy trees above us, the musky smell of old blankets around us. I felt like I had been completely forgotten by the outside world.
Then one day someone walked into our camp.
It was late afternoon. All of us were sitting outside our tents when I heard the crunch of footsteps coming toward us. I scampered toward one of the musty blankets we used for a barrier and pushed the corner aside. Mitchell was immediately at my side, his bad breath on my neck. A lone man was walking through the fire swamp toward us. Mitchell immediately pulled me back, almost pushing me to the ground. He dragged me back to the tent and hissed for me to sit down. Barzee followed, her face tight with fear. Mitchell made a lot of noise, rummaging through his gear. It only took a few seconds to find the knife and pull it out. Barzee did what she always did, which was to stand around and wait for Mitchell to tell her what to do. Mitchell peered out of the gray tunnel, his lips growing tight. He was standing right over me, peering from behind the tarp. Because I was on the ground, his hands were level with my eyes, and I noticed that his knuckles were white. He shifted the knife in his hand to put it in a better position to strike, then crouched down.
I don’t know if the man heard Mitchell rummaging around, or if he saw the blankets that were hanging in the trees and thought he’d check it out, but for whatever reason he started walking toward our camp. As the sound of his footsteps got closer, Mitchell inched forward, ready to attack. I watched him intently. Is he going to kill him?! I wondered in horror.
The man came to a stop. “Hey,” he called out. “Is anybody there?”
Mitchell glared at me and lifted the knife, moving it in my direction.
“Anyone there?” the man yelled again.
Mitchell put his fingers to his lips, then nodded at the knife. As if he had to remind me what he would do if I were foolish enough to scream!
“Anyone home?” the man repeated, though his voice was not as loud this time.
He waited, then started walking toward us again. We could clearly hear his footsteps across the leaves. He got closer. Closer. Mitchell was as tight as a wire. He held the long knife at his side, ready to spring at the intruder.
I wanted to scream!
The man continued walking until he was just a few feet from the hanging blankets. I could see his shadow through the thin barricade. He lifted his arm. He was going to push the blankets aside. He was going to see us. Then he was going to die.
Suddenly, the man stopped. He didn’t move. He didn’t say anything. All of us held our breath. No one dared to move.
I don’t know what it was that made him stop. Maybe he was afraid. Maybe he started listening to that intuition that’s inside all of us, that little voice that sometimes guides us when there is danger. Maybe his guardian angel was with him that day. I don’t know. I only know that Mitchell showed every indication of intending to kill him. He was coiled like a snake and ready to strike. But the man never took that last step. He didn’t push the blankets aside. He never said another word. He stood there a long moment, the tension sucking all of the oxygen out of the air, then turned around and walked away.
For a long time, none of us moved.
“We have to find another place to live,” Mitchell said.
*
Mitchell was convinced that the Lord, in His great and manifest wisdom, had tried our faith and found us lacking. We were nowhere close to being worthy of accepting another wife. Nowhere close to being worthy of His constant protection. We had been tried and we had failed.
Which meant that something had to change.