“Sara, we won’t say another word about this.”
I wanted to ask whether that meant he wasn’t going to tell Jacob, but I stopped myself, suddenly aggravated by the whirlwind of unruly questions and thoughts infiltrating my mind.
The mental image of the clock had me confused. The simple, insignificant timepiece was burrowing into my consciousness. How did I know it was a memory? Maybe it was something I’d seen at the Northern Light. After all, there was a school here. Children went to day care at five weeks and began school at four years.
That didn’t answer why the image had expanded—why I now envisioned myself sitting behind a small wooden desk with my name scrawled on colorful paper taped to the upper edge.
This line of thinking was wrong. I’d been taught that. I needed to confess to my husband and study Father Gabriel’s word more diligently.
CHAPTER 2
Sara
Two days later
Each Wednesday night, everyone on the Northern Light campus attended service, but before it began I needed to meet with a follower at the day care. She and her husband had arrived at the Northern Light at about the time of my accident, and she’d requested help with her transition. Her husband was under Jacob’s supervision, which left her walk in The Light to me.
As I walked from the lab to the day care, I told myself to focus on Sister Priscilla and forget the fog of uncertainty that seemed to have settled around me. Strange visions plagued my thoughts. I planned to talk to Jacob. He could help, except he was still gone, and I hadn’t had the opportunity to confess my actions at the lab or my thoughts to him.
Whatever was happening with The Light had him gone more often and for longer periods of time. I didn’t even think he’d return tonight, as services on the other campus would have already started. All I could hope was that he’d be back to the Northern Light sometime tomorrow.
The reality was that Jacob’s schedule—like everything else—was up to Father Gabriel.
My thoughts went back to Priscilla, the female follower I was about to meet. We’d been meeting once or twice a week for a few months. I tried to do for her what Sister Lilith had done for me after my accident, recommending lessons for her to study and talking about Father Gabriel’s teachings. Part of my duty as an Assemblyman’s wife was to remind her of her place and role as helpmate to her husband.
Though Dinah’s and my workday was done at the lab, the non-chosen followers’ workdays lasted longer. As I made my way inside the large metal structure situated near the school, the voices of young children filled my ears. As soon as the children could speak they were taught to recite Father Gabriel’s word. I smiled at the sound of repeated verses and edicts. No doubt these children would grow to be strong soldiers and workers for The Light.
My boots clicked on the concrete floor as I passed partition after partition, making my way toward the youngest followers. Some classrooms were allowing free time, which I knew from my visits was precious to the young children. As little faces turned my way, “Sister Sara” echoed around me.
Even the children knew the chosen. Though perhaps it was prideful, my heart grew a fraction at each recognition. I’d spent many hours getting to know the wives and children assigned to Jacob as an Assemblyman. In my heart I hoped they saw me as a friend and confidante as well as an Assemblyman’s wife.
Once I entered the infant room, Priscilla looked up and her eyes smiled. It wasn’t her entire expression, but I saw a sense of relief as I approached.
“Sister Priscilla, can I help you for a little while?”
“Oh, Sister Sara, thank you. Thank Father Gabriel. I know not to complain, but today has been”—her words trailed off—“it has been a challenge, but one I’m happy to conquer.”
The baby room wasn’t nearly large enough for the number of occupants. Apparently the followers were taking “Be fruitful and multiply” quite literally. There were two and three babies in each crib; some had bottles propped while others cried, waiting for their afternoon meal. Thankfully, not all were anxious. Some were sleeping, somehow immune to the wails reverberating off the walls.
Taking it all in, I shook my head. How had I never before noticed how many babies there were, or how short-staffed the day care was?
I went directly to a chubby little boy I’d held many times before. His cheeks were red and his nose runny as his little chest heaved with cries. As I lifted him, the weight of his diaper caught my attention. “Priscilla, I believe he’s wet.”
She nodded. “Father Gabriel set a limit on the number of diaper changes per day. It’s designed to teach the children control. Unfortunately, little Tobias must have had an upset stomach. He’s already used his daily allotment. And while maybe I shouldn’t have used them so early, he was very messy.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Tobias is an infant. He’s what? Three months?”
“Four.”