Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [141]
Jumping from the cab of his truck, he saw a young girl lying on the ground beneath the front end of her vehicle. She seemed to be in pain, and he asked if he could help.
It was fitting that Lamont found me when he did. In a strange way, Warren really had controlled our fate: had he not revoked Lamont’s priesthood when he did, Lamont never would have gone driving and never would have found me in my sorry state. Likewise, if I hadn’t been on the run from Allen, I would never have been out in the desert. Our chance encounter had been born out of our individual hardships, circumstances colliding to change everything.
For the first months of our friendship, Lamont did his best to conceal his difficult past, but it had come out in bits and pieces. Now, with the exile of his grandfather, his fear became palpable. He worried that his grandfather’s banishment was his fault, and he feared that it would not be long until Warren removed him as well. If Warren was purging the ranks of even the most pure, like Lamont’s grandfather, then a pariah like Lamont who’d lost the priesthood would not be far behind.
Talking to him on the phone after his grandfather’s banishment, I could hear the uncertainty in his voice, but I could also sense something else—an excitement to talk to me and a reassurance that the only thing comforting him now was the sound of my voice. By the time we got off the phone, he was no longer frantic. He was still concerned, but our conversation had relaxed him. I’d provided the support that he’d needed.
That night, hours after we’d hung up, the importance of that conversation began to come into focus for me. The dependence forming between us had grown dangerous. Our closeness had become something else as we relied on each other for sanctuary from our difficult situations. I didn’t know what was happening. But I didn’t want to stop it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
LOVE AT LAST
Happiness is the object and design of our existence.
—JOSEPH SMITH
Despite the growing strength of my friendship with Lamont, Meg’s absence from Short Creek was painful. She’d reached out to me in the weeks after she and Jason fled to Salt Lake City to let me know that they were doing fine and she missed me, but beyond that our conversations had been infrequent.
One day Meg called and told me about a trip to Las Vegas that she and Jason were planning to celebrate Valentine’s Day. Worldly holidays such as this one were strictly forbidden in the FLDS, and their special overnight adventure sounded romantic. I couldn’t imagine doing something like that with Allen. I was surprised when Meg begged me to join them in Vegas.
“Come on, Lesie, it will be so fun,” she insisted.
The idea of spending a whole weekend hanging out with my best friend was enticing, but in the wake of Uncle Warren’s recent punishments, I was nervous about breaking any rules and the potential repercussions of getting caught. I wracked my brain trying to come up with ways to escape to Vegas, but it was terrifying. I couldn’t think of a legitimate excuse to use if someone asked where I was going. Finally, I just decided to do it.
“I’m going to Vegas with Meg and Jason this weekend,” I confided in Lamont one night in early February.
He threw his head back in laughter. “Wow, you’re pretty brave,” he said.
Hearing the words from his mouth made me believe that