Page 2 of Remington
“So, I’m not weird?” he asked.
“You are the most normal kid I know,” laughed his father.He ruffled the dark hair that matched his own, seeing the features of his wife in his young sons’ face.
“Cool.Can I go eat with the others?”They both nodded and he ran off, like he did most nights.
“He is different,” said Dana.“He’s quieter, more intense like you used to be.”
“Nothing wrong with that,” he said pulling his wife closer.“If I recall, it worked when I was trying to get you to marry me.”
“I didn’t mean that.You were always the brother that preferred running alone, in the rain or cold, than playing a team sport or hanging with a big crowd of people.Even now, we tend to eat by ourselves.”He stared at her, frowning.
“I don’t mean to do that.Am I doing that?Am I forcing you to eat away from the others?”
“JB, you don’t force me to do anything, honey.I love you.You and Remington are my whole world.I love these other people, but you are my true family.”
“Just making sure,” he said nodding.“I know I can be distant sometimes.”
“You’re not distant.You’re thoughtful, brooding, moody on occasion, maybe even pensive.But you’re not distant.You are always there when I need you,” she said kissing just below his ear and the whispering, “especially when I need you in bed.”
He turned and stared at her with a classic smirk and she laughed.JB had learned that he too had the ability to speak to spirits.He hated it as a child but learned there was great value in speaking with those beyond the realm of the living.
“I think he’s spoken to more spirits than he admits to,” he said thoughtfully.
“He’ll tell us all about it when the time is right,” she smiled.
In time Remington did see and hear spirits, many of them.Some he wished he wouldn’t have seen or heard.But his calm demeanor and quietness never faded.
Home for another family wedding, he was surprised when he spotted someone new.Someone he didn’t recognize and that damn sure wasn’t family.
CHAPTER TWO
Her parents hadn’t always been this way.Once upon a time, they’d owned a small business in their little California town.They made good money, had a beautiful home, and adored their daughter.They seemed like a normal, all-American family, minus the dog or cat and picket fence.
Now, Saylor Carver didn’t understand what her family was doing.They’d sold their beautiful home in northern California and moved to the Midwest, deep in the heart of Nebraska.Her parents weren’t farmers and as far as she knew, they’d never grown anything in their entire lives.
Yet, here they were growing corn, tomatoes, potatoes, green beans, lettuce, spinach and just about every other vegetable that she never wanted to see again.
With a dozen other families, they’d bought a massive swath of land and divided it up into what her father called homesteads.When it was time to bring in the produce, the women all gathered in the community hall, which held the community kitchen and the community meeting space and the community church.
It was basically a catch all for anything and everything.But the women gathered and would spend days canning and preserving everything they’d picked.They’d even planted fruit trees which were finally doing well, according to her mother.
Like the rest of the children, Saylor was home-schooled.She knew that not all children went to school this way because some of their online classes were taught by teachers in the regular schools.At least, she thought they were regular.
They were also allowed to participate on athletic teams with other children in the nearby towns.They were always the ‘weird’ kids who didn’t go to school like everyone else.Saylor didn’t care.She was off the property, talking to other children, seeing their clothing, hair, and the way their parents dressed and behaved.
By eighth grade, Saylor knew that this was not the life she would choose for herself but she also knew that if she spoke up, she could be punished like some of the other children.She’d also learned that this wasn’t just a compound or a bunch of home-schooled kids.
Where she lived, how she lived was considered a cult by the federal government.She didn’t understand how that could be true but she knew they weren’t normal in the eyes of others.
Over time, her parents had become more skeptical of the outside world, more cautious about what they exposed her to, and stricter about her time spent away from the compound.And more importantly, who she could speak to outside of the compound.
On the day she graduated from high school, her parents sat her down and told her she would need to think about selecting a husband.
“A husband?I’m eighteen years old,” she frowned.“I want to go to college and get a degree.”
“You will not leave this compound,” said her father.
“Dad, I want to study medicine of some sort.I could help everyone here if we had a doctor or nurse.I mean, I could help deliver babies, maybe I could have helped Alan Jenkins.” Her mother stiffened, waiting for her husband’s response.Saylor thought it was odd the way they were acting but she hoped to play on their sympathies.
