Kathleen wasn’t even supposed to be here. She wasn’t supposed to be going to the Cleveland rally. It had been Reverend Everett’s recommendation that she spend the holiday with Maggie. Except that she hadn’t had the chance to tell him about Maggie. Now it was best she didn’t mention it at all. Because now, it seemed as if everything had changed. Something terrible had happened. Something terrible enough to make Emily speechless. Something terrible enough that prevented Stephen from meeting Kathleen’s eyes.
Kathleen felt like she was in a fog, where nothing seemed to be quite clear. She still couldn’t believe all her things were gone, her apartment, her cheerful yellow curtains and her grandmother’s figurines. Perhaps that’s why her head had been throbbing all day. It was just too much to expect a person to handle in one day. Surely Reverend Everett understood that. Perhaps by the time they reached Cleveland, he would change his mind. Yes, she was certain he would be able to calm down and realize that everything would be just fine.
As he stood, the room grew silent, despite the nervous tension that spread through the crowd as they sat crossed-legged on the floor and waited.
“My children,” he began, “before those of us who are going on our mission to Ohio leave, I’m afraid we have some disturbing news. I’ve warned many times that we have traitors who wish to hurt us. Those who hate us because we choose to live free. Now I must tell you that one of those among us has betrayed us, has become a traitor. Has exposed us to those mongrel media hounds. And you know how the media can lie.”
He waited for the appropriate response, nodding at the few hisses that grew when he encouraged them. Kathleen looked around, hoping there would be no snake tonight. She wasn’t sure her nerves could handle that.
“I’m afraid this matter is much too personal and painful for me, and so I’m asking Stephen to take over from here.” Reverend Everett sat back down and looked to Stephen, who seemed surprised and perhaps a bit embarrassed by the request. Evidently, this part was unplanned. Poor timid Stephen. Kathleen knew he hated having attention drawn to him. She could see the discomfort taking over his entire face.
He stood, slowly, reluctantly. “It’s true.” His voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “We have a traitor among us.”
He glanced back at Reverend Everett and the reverend waved a hand at him to proceed, indicating that Stephen knew the drill. Yes, Kathleen looked around at the crowd, now silent and waiting. They all knew the drill. The traitor must be brought forward. Must be taught a lesson. But she was so exhausted tonight that all she wanted was for it to be over.
“The traitor has exposed valuable information to the FBI and the Boston Globe,” Stephen continued. “Information that has them talking to ex-members. Information that could tarnish the church’s reputation and distract from our mission. This is why the rally in Ohio is even more important now. We cannot be intimidated.”
He looked to Reverend Everett as if for approval. Then Stephen’s voice grew stronger, deeper. “But traitors must be punished. I ask the guilty person to stand. You know who you are.” Another glance back at Reverend Everett. “Stand before us and take your punishment.”
They all remained silent. No one dared to look around for fear that they might be the one. No one stirred or dared to shift. Then Stephen turned and pointed his finger.
“Stand up right now and face your punishment,” he said.
Kathleen thought she heard a hint of a quiver as he pointed his finger in her direction. No. There had to be a mistake. She looked to Reverend Everett, but he kept his eyes straight ahead. He was the only one who wasn’t staring at her.
“Kathleen, come face your punishment for betraying us all.” Stephen now managed an angry, stern tone.
“But there must be a mistake,” she said, getting to her feet. “I haven’t-”
“Silence!” Stephen yelled. “Arms at your sides, stand up straight, eyes forward.” When her only response was to stare at him, he grabbed her arms and shoved her to the front of the room where several others, including Emily, had gathered. “Your selfishness could have destroyed us,” he screamed into her face. Then he looked to the others to take their turn.
“You betrayed us,” shouted an old woman Kathleen had never met.
“How could you?” Emily screamed into her face.
“You should be ashamed,” came another.
“Traitor!”
“What makes you think you’re special?”
“Ungrateful bitch!”
“What makes you think you’re better than the rest of us?”
“Shame!”
One after another, they circled her, hurling insults, screaming at her, poking and shoving.
“How dare you.”
“Traitor!”
Kathleen’s eyes were already blurred and stinging with tears by the time the first one spit at her. Then came another and another. She attempted to wipe her face, only to have Stephen slap down her arms.
“You know the rules. Arms at your sides,” he yelled, only it wasn’t Stephen anymore. Those were not Stephen’s eyes. It was some creature, some ugly entity who had taken over his body.
She stood, closing her eyes to the spittle and trying to shut her mind to the angry words, absorbing the blows and shoves that reminded her to stand up straight. It went on forever until her eyes burned and her ears were ringing, her feet hurt and the bruises were visible. Then suddenly, they stopped. Suddenly, it got quiet again. Everyone filed out in an orderly fashion, as if they had come for dinner and were now finished. And Kathleen found herself alone, standing in the empty meeting hall.
She was afraid to move, afraid her knees would collapse. The silence inside the hall surrounded her, and she listened to sounds outside-ordinary sounds of preparation for the impending trip. It was as if nothing had happened. As if her biggest fear had not just been played out for everyone to witness; her fear of being humiliated in front of those she thought respected her. What was worse was that they went about their punishment as if it was nothing unusual. As if it wasn’t out of the ordinary for her to have her soul ripped out in front of them.
That’s when she saw the young man, standing in the shadows, next to the back exit. When he realized he had been discovered, he came to her, slowly, head down, one hand in his pocket, the other holding out a towel to her.
A towel. She wanted to laugh. What she really needed was a bottle, a fucking bottle of anything…Jack Daniel’s, Absolut…Hell, rubbing alcohol would do the job. But she took the towel and began gently wiping her face and then her arms, working her way over her body, trying to not think about the black-and-blue marks, trying to pretend…How the hell could she pretend? No, she could do it. She had done it before. She’d be okay. She just needed to steady herself. Was the room spinning? Or was it her imagination?
He was helping her sit. He was saying something to her, taking the towel and leaving. Was he gone? Did he decide she was a lost cause? Had he left her, just like the rest of them? But suddenly, he was back at her side. Two of him this time, handing her the towel. A fresh one, but this one damp.
She dabbed her forehead, the back of her neck, and then pulled up her sleeves and dabbed at the insides of her wrists. Already she was feeling better. This time when she looked up she found only one of him. And thank God, the room…it finally sat still. The young man seemed preoccupied. He was staring at her wrists. Or rather, he was staring at the hideous horizontal scars she had uncovered when she pulled up the sleeves of her knit cardigan.