Rachel wouldn't have left the house if she hadn't seen her love traverse into the abyss of vegetation.
She had spent the night locked in her room, observing the packages for her birthday that her half sister had sent her. Her father had always disapproved of her, and rebuffed any means of contact with the New Yorkers. She had received some clothes, and realized that they were meant to be not seen by her father. It was then when she glanced out the window and saw him disappear. She already had the clothes on, so she decided to show him.
"It was nothing sexual, really. I just liked them. Besides…he had promised to meet me, and I wanted it to be tonight."
She had to climb out the window to avoid being seen by her father. She pulled the shorts down farther on her legs as she prepared to jump. She glanced at her skirt and sweater, considering whether or not she should bring the outfit, should she get caught. She would be beaten anyway for being outside, but not for wearing "blasphemous, whorehouse attire."
"I knew I'd get in trouble. But I had to see what he was up to. He had promised to meet me."
Rachel blew out air in between her teeth, letting out a low whistle. She closed her eyes and jumped.
Had somebody been watching, they probably would have screamed from seeing a small figure leap from a rooftop, and then laughed from seeing the poof of hay that flew up when she landed. Rachel lay in the hay, her heart pounding, not breathing, staying completely silent and still, waiting for her father to burst through the door, searching for the intruder on his land. After three minutes of silence, Rachel relaxed, breathing very hard through her nose, pleasding with herself not to sneeze. She carefully slid off of the pile of hay and glanced over her shoulder. Her father could be anywhere in the house. Her only chance was to run. She took a deep breath and charged toward the cornfield.
She threw herself through the first of the stalks and lie on the ground. She could feel her heart pounding against the ground as she waited for the noise that would announce her father's arrival.
"I got into the cornfield safely. But it wasn't going to be safe for very long."
Pushing cornstalks out of the way, Rachel trudged deeper and deeper in the cornfield. She felt something pass along her arm, and she jumped and was very still. She thought that she had heard breathing.
"Who's out there?" she said, her voice getting smaller with every word.
Silence.
Trembling, she continued forward.
"Then I saw him."
The figure was kneeling down and appeared to be examining something. Rachel slowly reached out.
"Micah?"
The boy jumped and whipped around. The fear left his dark eyes when he realized who it was.
"Rachel, I thought I told you to stay put."
"I just saw you, and…" Rachel's lips trembled and she crossed her arms. Micah frowned. "You're freezing." He wrapped his arms around her and leaned into her shoulder, breathing out hard so that his hot breath moved across her bare arm. It certainly wasn't helping the goose bumps. "You didn't need to come out here, love…"
"I wanted to see you." Rachel rested her head against his shoulder. "I got worried, after what you had said earlier…"
"I meant what I said. We couldn't meet tonight, it is too dangerous."
Rachel pulled her head away from him and looked at him dead-on. His face seemed to be floating in midair, what with his black clothes and dark hair that was always just a little bit messy. "I don't care. I meant what I said too. I will do whatever you- or He- wants, just as long as you don't make me say goodbye."
"Rachel-"
"I will be here unless you want me to leave. I will always be here until the day you order me away."
Micah was unmoved. "What if I want you to leave?"
Rachel felt her stomach drop. She wasn't expecting that answer. "I will go."
"No! Not like that. I just cannot be here with you tonight."
Rachel didn't say anything. She looked across Micah's shoulder, straight at a cob of corn. Micah placed his hand on her cheek and gently pulled her face toward him.
"Please, look at me. Look into my eyes. Listen to me."
Rachel obeyed. The same familiar sensation would always come to her when she looked into his eyes. It was like she was being pulled into Micah's darkness. The swooping sensation made her go weak at the knees as she stared into the eyes that she saw so often in her dreams came before the drowning sensation. It made her tighten her grip on his shoulders. He pulled her closer to him in response, tightening his hold on her waist.
Rachel knew that she had been in love since the day that Micah had pulled her into the cornfield, claiming that he wanted to pray with her. He had pretended to leave her to get lost, playfully grabbed her from behind, and pulled her to the ground with him. It was her who had lost all sense and control and kissed him. He hadn't pulled away. For the past two years, they loved it. Hiding away in the cornfields, committing such blasphemy. It felt good.
Both of their parents were firmly against pre-marital relations, even if they were as innocent as two pure lovers, both at age fifteen. Rachel's mother would have possibly approved. If she were around.
"Rachel…I don't care that I've been chosen to lead."
She looked at him in shock. Did he really just say that?
"You mean more to me than Him. All I ask is that you just listen to me- do what I say, when I say it- and one day we can escape. Together. I won't leave you behind. I can't."
If Rachel's heart had been pounding before, it was nothing compared to now. She felt as if it was going to burst out of her chest. She wondered if Micah could hear it. Or feel it.
"You're serious?"
Micah smiled the half smile that she so loved. "I promise. Once the mission is carried out, we can be together. Properly."
Rachel's smile grew wider. "We'll be together."
"Forever." Micah pulled her close and gently kissed her. Rachel trembled violently and pulled him close to her, as close as possible. She suddenly pulled away and glanced down.
"What is it?"
"What were you looking at?" she asked. "Right before I came."
Micah bit his lip. He took her hand and pulled her down so that they were both on their knees. He reached out and pulled out a stalk of corn that was covered in a dark shade that contrasted with the stalk. Something that looked horrible like…
"Blood?" Rachel chocked out.
"Yes." Micah sighed. "I don't know where it came from."
Rachel sucked in a deep breath. "I'm scared, Micah."
Micah reached over and took her hand. "It's going to be okay. I promise you."
The bloody corn husk forgotten, Rachel leaned over to kiss her love again.
"We both must have been caught up in the moment. Neither of us realized how stupid it was to have this conversation in the cornfield. We were surrounded. He had heard everything."
Micah suddenly pulled out, holding up a finger.
"What is it?"
Then Rachel felt it. The wind began to blow violently. The two lovers looked around as the corn began to shake wildly. Micah grabbed Rachel's shoulders.
"Ow! Micah-"
He look at her, panic in his eyes. "Rachel- love-" he stopped and glanced around, terrified.
"Micah?"
The howling of the wind grew louder. Micah pulled Rachel close to him and held her tightly.
"Micah!"
"We have…defiled the holy place." Micah whispered. Rachel could barely hear him over the howling.
"MICAH!"
Micah looked at her. "Rachel, listen to me. Remember my promise, and yours. Now, do as I say. Do you understand?"
Rachel felt her eyes beginning to sting as she chocked out "Y-Yes-"
"RUN!"
"I did as he said. I had no other choice."
Throwing aside cornstalks, Rachel charged away from Micah, away from whatever was chasing them. She felt no strain in her legs, no pain in her bare feet. The adrenaline was too much. She felt as though she were flying. She sobbed as she ran, fearing that she may never see the love of her life again.
That was what made her stop and turn.
"MICAH!"
Micah had been behind her the whole time. He grabbed her hand and screamed "Keep going!"
They ran as fast as they could, shoving aside the plants. The cornstalks seemed to be turning towards them, as if to hold them back. They just threw them aside, keeping a firm grip on each other's hand.
Finally, after what seemed like spending forever running through a never-ending field or horror, Rachel and Micah burst out of the cornfield. Rachel's house had never seemed so inviting. She pulled Micah into a hug. "We made it!"
Micah stiffened. "I don't know…" he looked back at the cornfield. The raging had stopped. Whatever had followed them was gone now.
"Let's go home."
"Rachel."
Rachel turned back to him. "What?"
Micah stepped closer to her and looked her straight in the eyes. Rachel knew this pose. It meant he was being completely serious now.
"Rachel, my love. Pack your things tonight."
Rachel's eyes went wide. "Pack my…"
"Yes. Get whatever you can fit into one bag. Tomorrow, when our parents are at the town meeting, we will leave with Mr. Amos when he goes on his deliveries. He will drive us out of town. We decided to leave, I want it to be tomorrow."
"We can't run away from this."
Micah looked at her with pain and longing in his eyes. "I'm willing to. We can't be together at all here."
"But what about the others?"
"I care about you and only you. We cannot stay here and be safe."
"What about your parents?"
Micah scoffed. "My parents? I care for them about as much as you do for your father."
Rachel frowned. "My father was just disciplining me."
"He beats you."
Micah ran his fingers over the bruise that was visible on her shoulder. A symbol of her learning not to stay out late.
Micah smiled and gently touched her lips with his fingers and ran his thumb along her face, right underneath her eye. "I don't care about them. Only you."
Rachel took a deep breath and glanced at her house. Truthfully, her father was a compassionate man in a good and bad way. She would miss the loving part, rare as it was.
She looked back at Micah. "Okay. I will be ready by dawn."
Micah pulled her close again and pressed his lips to her forehead. "Wait for me," he whispered into her hair. Rachel felt the chills run down her spine again. She pulled away and touched his face.
"I love you."
Micah's tense shoulders relaxed as soon as she said these words and a smile that anybody else besides Rachel barely saw grew on his face.
"And I love you. May God look down on us favorably for our future."
As we leave behind He Who Walks Behind the Rows, Rachel thought. The two kissed and hugged for the last time before their freedom.
Past Micah's shoulder, Rachel noticed the cornstalks trembling once again. She lifted up hear head. Panic filled her. "Micah-"
He whipped around and started at the cornfield. Not wanting to look back again, Rachel pulled Micah away from the cornfield and charged toward her house, until a horrifying scream and the loss of warmth in her hand made her turn around.
Micah was being dragged back toward the cornfield. By what, she had no idea. She just knew that she had to save him.
Rachel ran toward her love and threw herself to the ground when she was close enough and grabbed his wrists.
"NO, RACHEL! GO BACK!" Micah howled. Rachel lost her grip on him and sat up, sobbing as she watched him disappear into the plants.
"Micah!" she screamed. "No, no, NO!"
The cornstalks trembled violently again. Rachel had a good idea of what was coming. She turned and ran back toward her house, threw open the door and slammed it.
She slid down the wood, and took deep breaths. Micah was gone. No, no, there must be something she could do…but what had happened?
The cornfield was alive, as ridiculous as it sounded. Rachel had never believed in the religious ideas that that little loony Isaac had fabricated. Isaac had disappeared not too long ago, but his legacy did not. Kids that Rachel had known for years were becoming religious fanatics. Of what, Rachel was not sure.
"What're you doin', girl?" Rachel leapt up when she saw her father standing against the door. His hair was mussed up. He must have been sleeping.
She leapt up. "Pa-the cornfield-" Lost for words, she grabbed his wrist and pulled him outside.
"What the hell, Rachel?"
She stopped. He was looking at her in disgust. "What in the Lord's name you wearin'?"
Rachel's blood ran cold. She forgot about her clothes. "I-I-"
"Who were you out there with?"
Rachel didn't have time for this. "Daddy, come ON!"
She turned and ran back out the door, grabbing her father's harvesting machete from the side porch as she ran. Just in case.
"RACHEL!"
She stopped at the edge of the cornfield, staring in fear.
"Micah?" she whispered.
The huffing and puffing behind her told her that her father was catching up. Her arm was pulled back when he yanked the weapon from her hand. "Rachel Gwendolynn-"
"Pa, Micah's in trouble! We gotta help him!" She took a step forward into the corn, but her father dragged her back.
"Don't be going into that cornfield, girl! You'll be getting' lost and I'll-"
"Pa, Micah's in there! He could be hurt!"
"By what, corn?" her father sneered. His face transformed into a look of anger and shock when he glanced at her clothes again. "You- the Balding boy?-"
"His name is Micah, Daddy, and yes, I met him out here-"
"What'll happen if you get pregnant, huh?! You want me to kick you out? You think your Momma will be takin' you in? No Ma'am, she won't!"
"I'd rather live with my Momma than in Hicksville with you!" Rachel spat at her father. Her consciouence was broken. She would get it now.
And she did. She spat at his feet, and turned to run.
She didn't get far.
Pa grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into the house. Her screams and sobs were ignored by the neighbors, but not by one figure. His slight, dark figure seemed to float out of the field of corn. He stepped onto the dirt and kicked at the ground. He glanced at the house, where a girl's figure could be seen at the window, sobbing and praying. Something deep inside of him pulled at his heartstrings. The human wanted to go to her.
He would. Later. They needed to protect the girl. For now.
"Then what happened?" Grace whispered.
There was silence on the other line. "I haven't seen him since."
Grace had been pulling sting after string out of her old sweater as she listened to her half-sister's tale. She had chills going up her spine and jumped at small noises. She heard her mother shuffling around downstairs, and the TV was blaring loudly.
Loud and raceous yelling snapped Grace out of her trance. She glanced out the window and saw Christian stumbling out of a car, laughing obnoxiously as he walked toward the house, falling down several times.
Dumbass, Grace thought.
"Leave it to Christian to come home drunk." She signed to Rachel.
A slight sniffing and rustling was heard. Whispers from somebody, Rachel answering quickly. "I gotta go. He's coming back."
"'Bye-" Dial tone.
"Thank you." She sneered sarcastically. She tossed her phone onto the ground as her mother walked in.
"Was that Rachel?"
"Yep." Grace muttered dully. She sat up. "I'm actually a little concerned, Mom. What's her dad gonna do when-"
"He won't be able to do anything if he has to go to court and explain why his daughter can't walk some days," Lois snapped. "If he lays another hand on my daughter-"
"He did. He got pissed because of those clothes."
"I told you it was a stupid idea to send her those!"
"I thought her boyfriend would like them." Grace shrugged. "They sure seemed like they-"
"Don't even say it. When we go down there next week, we'll take care of them. I don't need those Amish wack-jobs telling my daughter how to run her life. Now, what was she talking about?"
Grace bit her lip. "She says she thinks that hey boyfriend was kidnapped.
Lois stiffened. "You don't think her father-"
"No, she tried to get him to help look for him, but he went nuts when he saw the clothes. So he doesn't care."
Lois blew out a breath. "Okay. Well, we are going to meet the lawyer tomorrow, when Dad gets back from his trip. I need you and Christian to watch Emilie, okay?"
"If he wakes up tomorrow," Grace muttered. Right on cue, Christian leaned up against Lois and put an arm around her.
"'Sup, Madre? Sistre," he hiccupped. Lois turned on him, but shut the door first.
"Thank you," Grace called, but she doubted that her mother heard her over her screaming.
AN: Please don't ask. It just happened.