Chapter 1
Delilah
One month later.
I caressed the worn leather cover of my favorite herbal medicine book, my heart aching as I flipped through the familiar pages. The aroma of fresh sourdough bread wafted from our table at the farmer's market, mingling with the cool autumn breeze and the spicy scent of cider from a nearby tent. I'd rather be anywhere but at this market.
It had been six weeks since illness took one of my dearest friends, but her absence still felt like a deep wound. And it wasn't just about losing her. The circumstances of her death had made me question everything I had ever known about my faith, community, and way of life.
"Delilah Faith Waters, what are you doing?" My mother's voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
Guilt washed over me as I closed my book. I didn't want to be consumed by anger or doubt.
"Just studying, Mama," I replied with a forced smile as I looked up at her.
She furrowed her brow in disapproval. "We need your help with customers. You shouldn't have your nose buried in a book."
"I am helping," I protested. "I am learning to become a better healer through my apprenticeship with Doctor Brown."
"You're 22 years old, young lady. I question why you're not more focused on finding a husband," my stepfather interjected, taking the book from my lap and placing it aside. "But since you have yet to find one, you must fulfill your duty to your family and community by spreading our beliefs. No more hiding behind books."
I let out a heavy sigh and slumped my shoulders in defeat. "Yes, Sir." Even though his strict commands often bothered me, I knew my stepfather was not a bad man. He took us in when we were destitute and provided us with a loving home. But as a child, the religious community we belonged to had been my solace and refuge from the outside world. Only recently did I discover that our strict rules could end someone's life.
"Why don't you walk the market and hand these out," my stepfather suggested, handing me a stack of papers, pamphlets about our religion, the Followers of the Pure Path. He placed a hand on my shoulder. "Remember to be modest and virtuous, and show them the path towards enlightenment."
My stomach churned with unease as I took the pamphlets, nervous as always about approaching strangers, who rarely wanted to hear about my religion. As I looked around the bustling market filled with cheerful children and satisfied shoppers, a small voice whispered: What if the outsiders aren't as bad as we've been told? These people seemed happy and content, not oppressed or lost.
"Maybe you could also take some bookmarks and pencil pouches that Judith and I made?" My sister Apphia offered, pushing a basket towards me. She was always kind-hearted, and I could see the worry in her eyes as she drew closer, catching the attention of our sister Judith. Apphia looked up at me through her lashes. "Do you want me to come with you?"
Judith's expression turned sour as she stood next to me. She had always been the more serious of my sisters.
"Apphia, when did you become so eager to engage with outsiders?" She narrowed her eyes at my sister, who blushed and ducked her head.
"Sorry," Apphia said.
I forced a laugh, trying to sound light-hearted. "I'll be fine, Apphia. Thank you for your concern. I'll make sure to find buyers for your handmade goods."
Without waiting for a response, I hurried away, my heart racing. As I navigated through the crowd, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was running from more than just a conversation. Glancing back at the tent where my family sat selling our products, I felt a twinge of guilt. Our community relied on these market days to sustain ourselves and our communal lifestyle, but I couldn't help but feel uneasy about interacting with the townspeople.
Passing a mother and her daughter, the little girl beamed at me. "You're dressed like Cinderella before she meets the Fairy Godmother!"
Unsure of what she meant, I thanked her. But as they walked away, I overheard the mother warning her daughter to stay away from people dressed like me, saying we were part of a dangerous cult. Feeling queasy, I turned down a side street in search of some solace. A dangerous cult? It wasn't the first time I'd heard someone call our people a cult, but it was the first time I didn't brush it off as gossip or lies.
The street was quieter and lined with quaint storefronts and homes. On the corner of the next street sat a brightly colored house with a sign reading "Oregon's Best Used Books" in the front yard. A surge of curiosity washed over me as I wondered if books held the answers to my unease and questions about the world beyond our community. Taking a deep breath, I slipped inside the musty-smelling shop, the small bell above the door announcing my entrance.
Shelves upon shelves of books filled the space, overwhelming me with their abundance. The library back home in Wagon Pass only held books approved by the elders, and I had never seen so many titles in one place. The thought of discovering new stories and knowledge excited me as I roamed the aisles filled with possibilities.
My fingers itched to touch them all, to open each cover and lose myself in the knowledge and stories within. I wandered deeper into the store, marveling at the sheer variety.
"Can I assist you in finding anything?" a friendly voice called out.
I jumped, clutching my basket close as a cheerful, plump woman wearing a shirt that read, "I only have time for book boyfriends" appeared around a shelf and gave me a quick once-over, her eyebrows shooting up.
"I'm just... browsing," I stuttered.
The clerk smiled. "Take your time. Let me know if you need a specific book. We have more in the back that I haven't had time to shelve yet."
As she turned away, I reached into my pocket, fumbling with cash from a few sales I'd made earlier in the morning. Could I...? Should I...? Would Elder Thomas, the community accountant, notice if a few dollars were missing?
The books were organized by subject, marked by large, brightly painted wooden letters on top of each shelf. One said 'Mystery,' then 'Historical' on the next one, followed by 'Romance.' Next to those were sections labeled 'Science' and 'Fiction.'
I was drawn to the science section like a moth to a flame, running my fingers over the colorful book covers. And one particular cover caught my eye — an alien man with no shirt and rippling muscles stared back at me from the glossy surface. The title read, "The Barbarian Doctor."
A medical text? I picked it up cautiously, glancing around as if I had committed a crime, scared to really look at it. What if I got caught? In a hurry, I grabbed two more books on either side without even looking at their titles before rushing to the counter with my eyes fixed on the door. No one from my community would ever set foot in this kind of place, but it was hard not to feel like I was under a spotlight, exposed to the judgement of the Elders, even though none of them were around.
My hands trembled as I approached the register, my heart beating so loudly I was sure everyone could hear it.
The cashier smiled at me. "Oh, great choices!" she exclaimed cheerfully. "These are classics from about 20 years ago. Still really popular."
"Really?" I asked, barely above a whisper. Clearing my throat, I continued, "Are... are the scientific facts still accurate? I'm very interested in learning about... medicine."
The cashier's lips twitched. "Oh yeah, they're totally scientific. Cutting-edge stuff."
I nodded eagerly, not fully comprehending her tone. "That's great news. I can't wait to study them."
"That'll be six dollars," she said with a smile.
As I set my basket down and reached for my money, a wave of nausea overcame me. How could I explain the missing money to the Elders? Would they immediately realize I was carrying banned books?
"Is everything okay?" the cashier asked, furrowing her brow in concern.
I swallowed hard, my mind racing. What if my stepfather found out? What if Pastor Sanders discovered my forbidden interest in medical science, when he had clearly stated only natural remedies from God's Earth were allowed?
"I... I'm not sure if I can..." I stuttered, feeling shame and fear burning in my cheeks. "I'm sorry."
The cashier's eyes drifted to my basket, and she smiled in surprise. "Oh my goodness, are these handmade bookmarks?" She delicately picked one up, admiring the intricate embroidery on the stiff fabric. "These are absolutely lovely!"
My heart skipped a beat. "My sister makes them. She embroiders the animals herself."
"They're beautiful," she exclaimed, her eyes twinkling. "How about we make a deal? Six bookmarks for the three books you've chosen?"
I blinked, almost unable to believe my luck. "Really? You'd do that?"
She nodded eagerly. "Of course! And if they sell well, which I'm sure they will, you can bring more next time you're in town. We would love to have them as regular stock."
A mix of excitement and anxiety bubbled up inside me. "That... that would be amazing," I managed, barely above a whisper.
As the cashier wrapped the books in brown paper, I couldn't help but imagine Apphia's face when I told her about this opportunity. She would be thrilled. But I had to figure out a way to explain why I went into the bookstore. Maybe I could say I ran into the clerk on the street.
"Here you go," the cashier said, handing me the package with a wink. "Enjoy your... studies."
"Thank you," I breathed, quickly hiding the books under my basket of bookmarks. "I appreciate your kindness."
I rushed out of the store, my heart racing. Part of me wanted to dance with joy at the thought of finally reading these forbidden texts, while another part felt sick with guilt and fear. What had I done? What would happen if anyone found out?
As I returned to our market stall, I clutched the basket tightly, praying that no one would notice the added weight of my secret cargo.