Slide - Kyle Beachy [106]
I recognized the bald man approaching us, recalled his skill at carrying water, his energetic assistance. Now he was sweating heavily and the thighs of his khaki pants were streaked with dirt. He nodded as he approached and raised a hand in greeting.
“Well, I know this guy! Decided to come back and see us. Good. I'm glad to see you.”
He took my hand into a firm American shake, held my eyes, then nodded to Opal. I hadn't remembered him being so handsome. Out here in the grass, working with these others, context, context.
“You helped me with the delivery a few weeks ago.”
“That's right. I was working the house with Tall David when you came with all the water. Receiving donations is a big part of Marketing. Had a feeling you'd be back sooner or later.”
“He's come to take me away,” she said.
“Oh, now, that sounds kind of silly, doesn't it?” he said.
I watched Opal leave us and move off into the grass. Here is what a cult does: it passes you among people who appear to care. Their language was one of interest and concern, inclusion. The key was to see behind the words. To spot the mechanisms within, the wheels spinning. I allowed myself to be led a few steps away from the log, toward the building project. Rich stood at my side.
“So what's on your mind?”
“Mrs. Worpley Opal. I came looking for her. I have to speak with her about motherhood.”
“What about motherhood, exactly?”
“What the term entails as far as extent and duration.”
“Huh. Didn't know she had a child.”
I had no idea how much he knew. Presumably everything. He knew that I'd made it here and that my quest was partially complete. Presumably he would use this partial completeness against me somehow, lull me into a state of contentment. Rich began to massage his shoulder with a hand chipped and scarred with toil. Behind him in the distance I saw Opal bent over in the grass, picking up a piece to bring to her mouth and blow, making it buzz.
“What's it for?” I asked. “The building.”
“Depends what you mean. Right now, it's for Building. Once finished it'll be something else. Housing, most likely. Storage. Eventually it will be for tearing down. Some machine will tear it apart. That all comes later.”
“Someone could come along in a few years and buy you out. Turn the house into a Gap or Wal-Mart or something. This field could be paved over, some roadway or parking lot. And this would be a gas station.”
“Then it will be a very well-made gas station.”
“It's selfish,” I said. “All the work.”
“Our family is no different than any other family. Except we acknowledge the selfishness. We know denying it is just one more level of selfishness, if you follow.”
Between our words came the grunts and heavy breath of the blue-shirted workers. We stood for several minutes before I checked on Opal and saw her stick a piece of grass into her mouth on her way back to the log. The workers moved in concert, the many extremities of this body. So quiet out here, only the clatter of labor against the peace of fading light.
“So you've found her,” he said. “You found your mother.”
“What? Not my mother. The mother I was looking for. I mean, for whom I was looking.”
Opal was sitting again on the log and I wanted very much to join her, I realized. So, too, did I believe she wanted me on the log next to her. Impossible to be sure, though, here inside this place with its agenda. Or even out there; always impossible. Rich smiled at me.
“There she is,” he said. “Nobody has to stay here any longer than they want. You want to convince her to leave with you and go back out there, you go right ahead. Keep in mind she's been living this lifestyle for a time now. Legs want to move and hands want to lift. The human back wants to carry weight. It's natural, and these explain why we've got the body parts in the first place. To work. Just because so many have forgotten this doesn't make it any less true. You know this already, I bet, working with the water. If you want my advice, it's this. Listen to yourself. Nobody here is going to rush you