Page 5 of The Cult

So far, nothing is out of the ordinary here in her apartment. Well, other than the fact that Rina is nowhere to be found.

But I haven’t checked her bedroom yet.

Dread fills me again as I take the first few steps toward her room. Please don’t let her be hurt or dead. I don’t know what I’ll do if she’s not okay.

I stop just outside her bedroom and take a deep breath. Everything’s okay. I should be worrying about waking her and getting an earful about breaking our rule about not intruding on one another’s private space.

Reaching in through the doorway, I flick on the light switch. Relief washes over me when I see her bed made. I walk around to look on both sides and see nothing but light brown carpet. Thank God.

As I check her closet, I find nothing odd. Except she’s not here. That wouldn’t be strange normally, but since she hasn’t answered my calls for two days, I know there’s something off. I don’t know if anything’s wrong, but something isn’t right.

I sit down on her couch and exhale a breath of frustration. Where could she be?

Out of the corner of my eye, I see something yellow and gold on the end table. I turn to look at what it is and notice a sheet of paper with a picture of the sun with rays of light shooting out. Leaning over, I grab it.

Scanning the words under the sun, I find out it’s something from that Golden Light group. As I read, I understand this group is one of those New Age types that focus on positivity and self-actualization. It’s all incredibly touchy-feely, and I have a hard time imagining my sister buying into any of it.

At the bottom of the page I see an address that’s right in town. Maybe she’s there. I doubt it, but at least it’s something for me to go on for now.

3

Lara

As I walkdown Main Street, I see the usual suspects hanging out like they always have during the summer. There’s old Mr. Loftus sitting in his chair outside of his antique store like he has all of my life. It doesn’t matter how hot it gets. He’s always there as some kind of sentry in front of his store.

I see Sylvie Mattern and wave to her as she straightens the flower display outside her florist shop. She’s a new addition to the Main Street business district, but like the older proprietors, she’s taken to being outside whenever she can during the summer.

Manford Standish, the owner of the most popular watering hole in town, smiles at me as I walk toward him. My parents’ age, he likes to joke that he’s a descendant of the Miles Standish we learned about in grade school. I highly doubt that, but then again, who knows?

“Hello, Lara. How are you today?” he asks, and I notice how red his nose looks this afternoon.

He swears he never drinks while everyone who comes to his bar drinks like there’s no tomorrow, but that rosy nose of his says otherwise. He’s an adult, so he can do as he wants, but why lie? It’s not like anyone would care if he enjoyed a drink or two.

“I’m good. You living the dream?” I ask, using the answer he gives when people ask him how he’s doing.

The bar owner’s expression falls, like he’s hurt I stole his favorite sentence and now he doesn’t know what to say. “You know how it is.”

I give him another smile and look down at the sheet of paper in my hand. The Golden Light pamphlet gives an address on the next street over, so I turn left at the intersection and head down Mulberry Avenue toward Ravine Street to find the building. I don’t exactly know what to expect, but when I see it, I have to admit I’m surprised.

The red brick building looks like many in this area filled with early American buildings. It’s a source of pride for the town council that this town of ours has existed since the late seventeen hundreds, and they make sure to drive that point home on the signs people see coming in and out of town, in addition to on the town’s website.

Other than looking somewhat historical, the building where The Golden Light office is located is unremarkable. The windows seem new compared to others in buildings around town, and a sign above the front door with a big yellow sun and beams coming out of it looks new.

I peer through the front window for a long moment before taking a deep breath and walking inside. I can’t place why I feel uneasy, but something about this place unnerves me.

It doesn’t look like anywhere that should make me anxious, though. The white painted brick walls are covered with posters about positivity and inspiration, so my discomfort can’t be from them. Who doesn’t enjoy seeing a picture of a kitten hanging onto a rope and saying just hang in there?

Directly in front of me, a young blond woman sits behind an old wooden desk that reminds me of the one the high school principal always had in his office. The man never sat down during any meeting I ever had with him. I once mentioned it to Rina, and she remembered he never sat when she was there either. It’s an odd memory, but it fills my head as I make my way toward the woman.

“Hi! Can I help you today?” she chirps with a big smile.

It’s a good start, and it makes me hopeful I’ll be able to find out something about my sister. Holding up the paper in my hand, I return her smile and point at the sun at the top of the page.

“Hi! I’m wondering if you could tell me if you saw a young woman named Rina come in here recently? I found this pamphlet in her apartment, so I was hoping she may have gotten it here.”

The blond woman takes the sheet of paper from my hand and reads it before shaking her head. Giving it back to me, she says, “I haven’t, but I don’t think that’s from here. One of our members had an info session earlier this week. I think this is from that.”

Not the answer I was hoping for, but at least it’s not a dead end.

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