I felt sick. I felt elated. I didn’t know what to do!
I thought about every threat that Mitchell had ever made about my family. I thought about the painful life that lay before me in the camp. Years of being raped. Years of hunger and abuse. Years of being trapped up on the mountain.
I thought of everything that I had gone through.
All I wanted to do was go home.
Then I thought about my little brother and sister. I loved them so much! I wanted to keep them safe!
The policemen jumped out of their cars and walked toward us.
Please help me protect my family! I prayed.
“Sir, I need to talk to you,” the first policeman said.
Mitchell kept on walking.
“Sir, I need you to stop. I need to talk to you!”
Mitchell didn’t answer.
An overwhelming feeling of panic swarmed over me. Please, God, help to set me free!
“Sir! I need you to talk to me. I need to see some ID!”
The officers became aggressive, all of them shouting now. Mitchell’s eyes were wide with fear, his face draining of all color. He stammered once or twice, trying to get something out, but his voice seemed to crack. Barzee didn’t say anything, holding close to her husband, her lips tight across her teeth. She glared at me, her eyes hateful and defiant. I flashed back to the scene at the library when she had pinched my leg underneath the table, her iron fingers digging into my skin, communicating all of the fear that I had been subjected to for months. I looked at her, then turned away, my mind a jumble of hope and fear.
Another policeman came toward us. His voice was firm. He seemed to be in charge. The other officers gathered around. Though they were talking to Mitchell, their attention was primarily on me.
“What is your name?” one of the officers asked me.
I felt almost dizzy. I was sick with uncertainty and fear.
“What is your name?” he asked again.
Was it Esther? Was it Shearjashub? I hadn’t been called Elizabeth for so long.
The officer frowned at me. He didn’t treat me like I was his friend.
I felt like I was falling over a waterfall. Don’t say anything. Don’t give Mitchell a reason, or he’ll hurt you! Don’t give him a reason to hurt your family!
“Hey, I need to know your name,” the officer pushed again.
What will Mitchell do to me? What will he do to my family?
“Your name!” the officer demanded.
“Her name is Shearjashub,” Mitchell finally answered.
The officer only glanced at Mitchell. “Is that right? Is that your name?”
I thought of the long black knife. I thought of the fact that Mitchell had never spent more than a few nights in jail. He seemed impervious to being captured. He would kill my family if I talked!
“Where are you from?” the officer demanded.
“We just got here from California,” Mitchell answered for me. “We are preachers. We aren’t doing anything but serving the Lord.”
The officer ignored him. “Is that right?” he asked, looking into my eyes.
“She is my daughter.”
“Where are you going?” the officer asked me, moving a little closer.
“We’re heading to Salt Lake City,” Mitchell answered for me again. “We’re ministers. We’ve done nothing wrong.” His voice was calm and cool now. There was no sign of panic or deception. He spoke softly and acted very confident and sure.
“I’m not speaking to you, sir, I’m speaking to the young lady.” The officer stared at me, waiting for me to say something.
“She’s scared,” one of the other officers whispered from the back. “She doesn’t dare say anything.”
The officers huddled together, a couple of them keeping their eyes on Mitchell and me. Barzee seemed to have melted into the background. It was as if no one cared that she was even there.
“She’s scared of him,” the officer said to the others. “She’s too scared to even answer. You’ve got to get her by herself.”
One of officers walked toward me and put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I immediately flashed back to when Mitchell had grabbed me in the Walmart just a few minutes before. Mitchell’s hand had been a death grip, like the Grim Reaper on my arm. But this was different. It didn’t feel like the officer was going to hurt me. Maybe he could actually keep me safe.
He nudged me away from Mitchell, then leaned over and looked me in the eye. “What is your name?” he asked me gently.
I felt my heart racing in my chest.
More than anything, I wanted to tell him! I didn’t want to stay with Mitchell. I didn’t want to walk with him up into the mountains. I didn’t want to be raped every day. I didn’t want to suffer hunger anymore.
All I wanted was to be with my mom and dad. All I wanted was to go home!