Page 29 of The Cult

Every word out of my mouth signals how afraid I am right now. I know better than to ask Micah questions, but I’d rather take his wrath for stepping out of line than let him think he can’t trust me.

He doesn’t answer at first, and then a maniacal laugh explodes out of him. “No. I was just joking. I can’t read lips. I liked that you thought I could, though. That’s another reason why I like having you around. You never doubt me. That’s a trait I wish every one of my guards had.”

I smile even as I feel like I’m going to throw up from the emotional rollercoaster this meeting has been. “Thank you.”

The words taste like ash on my tongue, but I say them because I know I must. He likes how appreciative I am and stands up from his chair to pat me on the shoulder.

“You really are one of the best, Nash. Don’t change a thing, and you’ll go far here. Now go see what you can learn about our new member while I check on our garden girls. We don’t want them dying out there in the summer heat, now do we?”

I don’t answer since I believe his question to be rhetorical. Bowing, I receive his approval to leave and get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. He doesn’t follow me as I thought he might to make sure the women get enough water and instead walks into the room adjacent to the one I was in, closing the door behind him.

15

Nash

I stepout into the stifling heat and humidity and instinctively look over toward the gardens, but then I turn my attention to the other side of the compound where the mechanics work on the bus. As much as I hope those women are being given water, I can’t focus on that.

You learn very quickly around here that caring too much for anyone will get you nothing but trouble.

As I stand on Micah’s porch and scan the area in front of me for any sign of Lara, my mind drifts back to those first days after I found The Golden Light. I had no idea of what the truth was then. All I knew was when I really listened to Micah talk, I felt like I had finally found home.

My hands shake as the idea of scoring something fills my head, but I promised the people at A Brighter Tomorrow that I’d really try to stay clean this time. I want to. I truly do. It’s just so damn hard.

People begin to file into the tent and sit down on the empty benches that surround me. A pretty girl with blond hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen in my life handed me a pamphlet when I walked out of the rehab center this morning, so I figured I’d check this Golden Light thing out.

It sounds like complete bullshit, but then again, thirty days ago I thought rehab was utter crap too. A month later, I feel pretty good, all things considered. I haven’t had any junk in all that time, and it wasn’t too bad. Yeah, I had a few bad days and even worse nights, but I got through it.

That girl said The Golden Light would make me see the world in an entirely different way, and I figure since that’s what rehab did for me, why not listen to some people talk about genuine love? She said that’s the focus of the group, which sounds pretty damn good to me. I mean, who the hell wouldn’t want to experience genuine love?

I’m not holding out a lot of hope for that today, though. I can say this. If they think they’re going to sucker me out of money or anything valuable, they chose the wrong guy. I don’t own a single thing in this world. All I have is my body and my brain, and those aren’t the greatest after all the shit I’ve shot into them.

But I figure I can sit through this meeting, and if it’s garbage, I’ll leave. No harm, no foul. I don’t know what I’ll do after, but I could go for something to eat. I have that coupon the center gave me for a free lunch when they let me go, so I can go to that diner they work with to make sure those of us who finish the program at least get a hot meal on our first day out.

After that, we’re on our own. Oh, there are a bunch of places I can get help if I need it, but I’m hoping my girlfriend will be happy now that I spent the month in rehab, and we can get back to living our life together.

“Have you ever been to one of these things?” someone next to me asks in a low voice.

I turn to my right and see a man I’m guessing is maybe twenty-three or twenty-four. He might be older than me, but then again, lots of people say I look closer to thirty. Abusing your body for years will do that to you. His shoulder-length brown hair looks greasy, like he hasn’t washed it in a while, and his skin looks almost gray the longer I stare at him. He’s about half my size, but I’m bigger than most men, even after all I’ve done to myself.

Shaking my head, I shrug. “No. Some girl told me about this, so I figured I’d see what it’s all about. You?”

He shakes his head so long, greasy strands of hair swing around his face. “Nah, but I figure if there are hot girls here, I might as well give it an hour of my time.”

I smile and wonder if he can see in my expression how much I doubt any girl here, hot or not, would give him the time of day. Maybe if he took a bath and cleaned himself up a little, but then again, some of the people I met in rehab had hot girlfriends and wives and they looked like shit warmed over.

After dismissing him with a nod and a half-hearted smile, I look around and notice most of the people here with us are females. Maybe he’s onto something with his idea. I’m not looking for a hookup or anything like that, though. I’ve got Caressa waiting for me, and once this thing is over and she’s home from her shift at the sandpaper factory, she and I are going to have a reunion for the ages.

I get lost in thinking about how great it’s going to be when she walks in the door and sees me sitting on the couch all clean and ready for her. Thirty days isn’t a long time, but I owe her more than I can ever pay back for being willing to wait for me. She’s a pretty girl with a great smile and a body any red-blooded male would love. She could have anyone she wants, and the fact that she stayed with me after all the shit I’ve done is something I won’t forget. I went through rehab as much for her as for me, and tonight I’m going to show her how much she means to me.

A man’s voice interrupts my silent planning for our reunion, and I look toward the stage at the front of the tent to see a man standing alone with his arms spread out wide. He’s much smaller than I am and wears loose white pants and a pale green linen shirt that practically hangs off him. He reminds me of that hippie guy in rehab who was in charge of the yoga classes they made me attend. I warned him the first day that bendy shit wasn’t easy for someone as big as I am, but he swore I’d love how yoga would make me feel. I didn’t, but it wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.

“Thank you for joining me, my children,” the man on the stage says with a big smile as he tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling of the tent. “I’m Micah, and I’m so happy to welcome you to The Golden Light.”

He runs his fingers through his long, dirty blond hair and lowers his head to look out at us. Something about the way he stares at the people in the front row for a second too long makes me wonder if he’s doing some hypnosis thing. He can try that on me all day. It won’t work. I found that out in rehab too. The lady who tried it said it probably had to do with my being Irish. I’m not sure about that since it’s never done anything good for me before, but maybe she’s right. All I know is she couldn’t get me to go under, no matter what she tried.

“Do you desire to have all you’ve ever dreamed of? Whatever it is, you can have it. You just have to believe.”

Ah, okay. I know what this is. These self-help types all have an angle, and it’s always money. Sorry, man. Your girl picked the wrong guy to give that pamphlet to this morning.

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