#-whines because this chapter bummed me out and Knoth sucks-

[softupshur]

Imperfect Faith: Chapter 5

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When her mother is arrested on Lydia Degan’s ranch, a young Marta finds herself amidst the Testament of New Ezekiel in its infancy. As she travels with the other escapees, she watches the church grow, the gospel teachings evolve, and create a close bond with the reverend Sullivan Knoth.

Characters: Marta and Sullivan Knoth

Chapter 5-October 19, 1968:

"Have you ever thought about leaving?”

Marta froze at Jasmine’s question. “Never,” she replied, even as her mother’s face came to mind.

“Why not?” Jasmine asked, a little more gently this time.

“Because we are a flock and Father Knoth is our shepherd. If we do not stick together for the trials ahead, we’ll be lost to the enemy.”

Jasmine frowned at how matter of factly Marta said this, but continued nonetheless. “But are you happy here?” she challenged. “Living like this?”

Marta looked around the tent they sat in. Rather than beds, sleeping bags covered the floors. Water bottles littered the area, and the wind that beat outside the tent chilled with each passing day.

Regardless, Marta nodded. “Others of our faith have had it worse. We should be thankful that we are at least free from prosecution.”

"But what if we’re not?”

“What do you mean?” Marta asked, with a tilt of her head.

“I’m talking about the other week with Jenny. Surely you’ve been thinking about it too.”

“It’s always a tragedy to lose one of our own,” Marta muttered. “It’s only natural to think about it.”

Jasmine shook her head. Before continuing, her eyes darted around the tent, and her voice lowered into a hush. “Father Knoth has been acting strange since that night. Maybe there’s always been something strange and I was too blind to see, but I do know that since that night I can’t shake the feeling that there’s something terribly wrong.”

Marta lowered her tone to match Jasmine’s. “Why so?”

“Because it was wrong to bury Jenny in the wilderness like that.”

“But what else was were we to do?”

"Someone should have been told. We’re never far from a town and her death was natural. There’s no reason for us to fear sharing the news of her death, but still…” She couldn’t bring herself to finish her thought.

“But we’ve buried our own before. It was the same as that.”

“No, it was not.” Jasmine spoke with enough sternness to make Marta flinch. “Our dead lie in consecrated ground. We marked their graves and made them in memorium so anyone could pay their respects, but with Jenny...it felt like we hid her away in shame. Father Knoth wouldn’t even let me bring flowers to her resting spot. Like she was some dirty secret rather than one of our own.”

Marta shifted slightly and her gaze drifted aside. “Why are you telling me all this?”

“Because…” Jasmine’s voice became so quiet, she had to lean in for Marta to hear what she said next. “I’m going to leave tonight.”

Marta gasped, “But Miss Jasmine, that’s...you can’t do that! The only way to salvation is through the Prophet Knoth!”

“But what if he’s not the prophet?” Jasmine snapped, almost too loudly.

Marta’s hands clasped over her mouth and her eyes grew wide. “Miss Jasmine, that’s heresy.”

“Yes, yes, I know what it sounds like, but you must listen to me. I couldn’t forgive myself if I didn’t try to get through to you, so will you at least allow me that much?”

Though she frowned, Marta did nod.

Jasmine put her hands on Marta’s shoulder and looked her in the eye. “What happened to you was wrong. Everyone here knows it. We abandoned your mother and stole you from her. This was too great of a decision for you to make by yourself and you should be with her now.”

“What does it matter?” Marta backed from Jasmine’s hold. “Mother is arrested and I’ll probably never see her again.”

“But what if you could?”

Marta stared at Jasmine, dumbfounded. “What?”

“All we need to do is get in touch with social services and I know they’ll be able to help you. Rachel was a licensed midwife so she did nothing wrong. The more I think about it, the more sure I am that she was only brought in overnight for questioning and-”

The walls in the apartment were too thin. Arguments of drugs, affairs, and money broke through most nights. Through those evenings, Marta and Rachel sat side by side on the couch, huddled together.

Before Marta could tell Rachel her concerns, the mother would hum a hymnal just loud enough for Marta to forget the shouting, the fact their apartment was too old, that it was never safe enough to go out at night, that Rachel often cried when she thought Marta was asleep, and-

“Marta!”

Looking up, Marta eyed Jasmine as if she were a stranger. Still, Jasmine continued to speak.

“Will you come with us tonight?”

“Huh,” Marta finally managed to choke out.

“Me and a few of the others are going to escape tonight. One of the men in charge of the cars is going to help us get one and then we can drive into town and go on from there. Please say you’ll come with us.”

“I…” Marta’s throat ran dry. “I don’t know…”

“Think about it,” Jasmine said. “We won’t be leaving until late tonight so you have time.”

“What if I fall asleep before you leave?”

“I’ll wake you,” Jasmine promised. “You just take the time you need to think it over.”

“I will.”

With that, Marta exited the tent. She took in a deep breath, but rather than the freshness she expected, the air tasted stale. She then looked up at the sun. Though it was still high in the sky, it taunted her, counting down her precious moments of consideration. She shook her head of the dread and went to tend to what little chores or tasks she could find around the campsite.

As she busied herself, she no longer felt so stiff and breathing came easier, but then Knoth’s voice broke through.

“Marta?”

She jumped at his voice. Though she quickly calmed herself, her response came out in a stammer. “F-Father Knoth! I...you startled me.”

“It wasn’t my intention, child.” He spoke normally, but his brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed as he looked at her.

Marta bowed her head low. “I’m sorry, Father. Can I help you with something?”

“I was just going to ask if you had seen Henry. I had a few things to discuss with him, but I can’t find him.”

“I haven’t seen him anywhere.” Though Marta’s voice settled, her eyes remained fixed at the dirt beneath her feet. She waited for Knoth to leave, but he continued to speak.

“Are you...alright, my child?”

His voice was laden with a heaviness that Marta had only heard once or twice before, but she couldn’t bring herself to see if his expression matched his tone. She only answered with, “I’m fine, Father.”

“Are you sure?”

Only then did Marta force herself to look up at Knoth, heart pounding in her chest every moment. Nonetheless she spoke in a loud and clear voice. “Yes, Father. I’m only a little tired is all.”

“Then you must go rest,” Knoth said, much softer than before Even his expression offered sympathy. “You’ve been working much of the day away so you should retire to one of the tents. I could have someone bring your dinner to you, if you like.”

“Thank you,” Marta bowed her head once more before hurrying into the tent.

In there, she was able to breathe easy again. For she no longer had to watch the sun steal her time away and could lie down in thought.

She sought to return to a time before the ranch, before the testament, before Knoth, but the images became hazier the longer she thought

Then came the ranch.

The images came clearer there, but none told Marta why they came to the ranch. Only that it always was.

If only she understood why.

That was all she needed.

Why…

Only sleep offered her relief from that question, but even then it was short lived, as Jasmine shook her awake.

“Marta, it’s time. Are you coming?” she whispered. With one arm she gripped Marta’s shoulder, and the other held a sleeping Tristan.

The dryness in her throat returned, as she looked up at Jasmine. She only found an answer when she recalled the night of their initial escape.

“God knows what’s in our hearts, right? No matter where we go?”

Jasmine smiled. “Yes, of course he does.”

Marta took a deep breath. “Then I’ll go.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Not since before the burial in the desert, did Jasmine smile so brightly. “Do you have everything you need?”

The question had little purpose. Without the testament, none of them had a penny to their names, but Marta held her tongue and nodded.

“Then stay very quiet and follow me.”

They tiptoed out of the tent and entered complete silence of the site. It would have been complete darkness too, if not for the moon offering them just enough light to weave through the paths of tents until they reached the red truck.

Beside it stood one of the women who was always around Jasmine. She too carried a sleeping baby. Marta also recognized one of the younger couples--the man holding the keys to the truck.

Each of them expressed surprise at Marta’s presence, but none protested.

“Is everyone ready to go?” the man asked them. “Because this is your last chance to turn back.”

As he waited for a response, there was only the chirping of the crickets. So often ignored, but tonight, deafening. Perhaps someone tried to protest over the noise, but the man went ahead and opened the trunk.

Somehow the click of the lock was even louder.

Everyone looked back to the camp, but only saw the tents as they left them, still silent and shrouded in darkness.

The man then opened the trunk, only for it to be accompanied with a loud creaking that made him wince, but no one looked back this time. He and his woman crammed bags in the trunk, along with supplies that Marta recognized from the bus. Every bag landed with more noise than the last, but that only made them quicken their pace.

Meanwhile, Jasmine and the mother cleared out the backseat with much more care for their volume.

Marta only stared.

“I’m sorry, Marta, but we’re going to need to squeeze you in the middle,” She heard Jasmine say at one point, but Marta didn’t respond.

“Marta?”

She was back at Degan Ranch.

“What’s wrong?” Jasmine asked.

Marta shook her head. “It’s just like before.”

“What do you mean?”

"We’re only running away, deserting our own. All over again…”

“Only to save ourselves,” Jasmine gripped Marta’s shoulders and her breathing became rigid. “I know you’re scared, but this isn’t how people are supposed to live. You must know that.”

Marta looked back at the campsite. As they slept through the betrayal, her heart ached for them. At one point, the ache became so great that she had to look away, and back to Jasmine.

“I know that, but I also know that the road to salvation is one that is twisted with thorns and snares,” Though the ache began to fade, Marta still struggled to continue. “It is arduous, but it is also good. I know this in my heart of hearts…”

“But, Marta-”

“No!” Marta stepped back. “I’m not running away. Not again.”

Jasmine opened her mouth to protest, but the man of the group beat her to it.

“I told you she wouldn’t come, Jas. Let’s just go. Knoth wouldn’t let anything happen to her.”

“Go with them,” Marta said. “I know God will forgive you.”

“But…”

“Jas, we can’t do this all night,” the man seethed. “We’re already lucky no one heard us. We have to go now.”

“I…” she gave Marta one last pleading glance, but the child only nodded.

“I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Jasmine’s brow furrowed. She continued to stare at Marta, only looking away when Tristan stirred in her arms. Her gaze softened as she looked down and hushed him back to sleep. When he was silent again, she handed the baby off to one of her companions. She muttered something too low for Marta to hear, before returning her attention to her, kneeling down so their gazes met.

“I’m sorry, Marta. I really am. Maybe we are making a huge mistake, but I can’t stay here. I would force you with us if I could, but just…” She closed her eyes and sighed. “I’ve said my piece, so now I only ask that you remember us kindly.

Marta nodded. “I will.”

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?”

“I’m sure,” Marta said easily.

Without warning, Jasmine hugged Marta then. It came so suddenly that Marta stiffened at the contact. Even so, she frowned when Jasmine let go.

“Goodbye, Marta, and God bless.”

“God bless you, Jasmine. I’ll pray for your safe journey on the road ahead.”

“Thank you, Marta.”

She moved as slowly as she could and kept her eyes on Marta the whole while, but Jasmine at last entered the truck.

Once she was inside, the engine started, and it backed out. It started at a crawl for the first moments of movement, and when there was no interruption, it sped away from the camp.

Marta stared after it until it was impossible for the naked eye to see. Only then did she kneel down to pray.

“Lord, please forgive Miss Jasmine and the others. They do not mean offense against you. For it is only out of fear they flee, so do not strike them down in your wrath. Rather, find mercy in your heart to bless them with a safe journey: wherever they may go, and perhaps...one day...if you so will it, you can guide them back to us, as the prodigal son. Praise be to the God of Abraham, and of Isaac, and of Knoth. Amen.”

Marta opened her eyes and a light shined upon her.

There stood Knoth, lantern in hand, and an expression so hardened that he looked more as a statue than a man. He waited for her to speak, but she could only stare up at him with wide eyes.

“You knew about this, didn’t you?” he finally said.

“I…” Marta trembled as she searched for her voice, and when she found it all she could manage was a, “Yes, Father.”

Knoth’s eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t tell me.”

“No…” Her voice barely audible.

“Did you think that silence would absolve from the sin of lying?”

Marta shook her head.

"Then why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared,” Marta admitted. “Miss Jasmine was always very kind to me. I didn’t want her to be punished.”

“And now she has gone astray because of your silence.” Knoth said, lowly. “You let her give into temptation when the Lord saw fit to put you in her path.”

Marta’s gaze fell to the tracks left behind by the tires. “Maybe...maybe we could still go after them?” she asked, quietly. “They couldn’t have gotten too far…”

“No,” Knoth turned his back to the tracks.

Marta’s jaw dropped. “But...aren’t they still part of our flock? Just because they wandered astray doesn’t mean they are no longer our own.”

Knoth shook his head. “Not anymore. For they have shown where their loyalty lies and we have no place for heretics among us.”

“But, Father-”

“They knew the road to paradise would be trying and dangerous, but they still let their cowardice sway them from the Lord.” He spoke louder now, nearly shouting. He then glared at Marta. “And do not think you do not share blame in this. I had thought your faith stronger, my child. Do you question our Lord’s ways?”

Marta’s eyes began to water. “No, Father. I do believe in our Lord. I really do, it’s just…” She bit her lip rather than continuing.

“Just what?” Knoth asked her, his tone still icy and low.

“I…” she nearly choked on her own words. “I do believe they still love the Lord.”

“Then why are you the one who stayed behind and not them?”

Marta’s brow furrowed as she searched for an answer. “I...well...it’s because...they...I...um…”

"Nevermind,” Knoth uttered, shaking his head. “You are only a child. It was wrong of me to expect so much out of you.”

“But Father, please-”

“Marta, that is enough!” Knoth snapped. He took a deep breath, and his voice settled, though there was still an edge to it. “You have had a very trying day. I suggest you get some rest.”

Tears rolled down Marta’s cheeks, but Knoth didn’t see them in the darkness.

“Yes, Father,” she choked out. Her head hung low. “Please forgive me. I will never lie to you again.”

“You are forgiven,” Knoth spoke with neither hesitation, nor warmth. He didn’t even bother to look at her. Still, Marta thanked him, and hurried back to the campsite, and headed straight for the tent she once shared with Jasmine. It was quiet without the baby’s cooing and Jasmine’s chatter.