Chapter 9: Shelter

They sat apart in the sitting area of the suite. Sarah sat on the marble floor, her back resting against the bottom of the sofa, legs crossed at the ankle and outstretched in front of her. She wore the blue dress that Brady had provided, her legs bare to her toes. Both the underwear and the dress fit her as though they had been tailored to her body. Her body ached from the repeated orgasms, especially between her legs, but it was a pleasant soreness. Surprisingly, she still wanted sex, but the desire had muted somewhat since Brady’s attentions on the bed. Brady perched comfortably across the room in the overstuffed chair, his eyes intently upon her face.

“Imagine a place where everyone helps each other. Love is freely given and received. There is no crime. No stealing. No betrayal. No hate. No jealousy. Doesn’t matter if you came from a rich family or lived on the street. Doesn’t matter if you have dark skin or light. Doesn’t matter if you have a vagina or a penis. Everyone is created equal.”

“Sounds idyllic,” Sarah noted softly. Brady looked at her, surprised that this homeless girl used words like idyllic. Sarah considered for a moment. “If such a place existed, it’s not likely they would welcome a filthy homeless girl.”

At the moment, Sarah thought, she wasn’t particularly physically dirty thanks to Brady, her new clothes and the suite shower; generally on the streets, dirt was a way of life. Despite the finery, she was a street rat and always would be. Her clothes would remain clean for about ten minutes after she returned to the train station, and only if she were careful.

“Why not?”

“You’ve seen the sketches,” she said sadly. “Who wants a broken girl in paradise?”

Brady shrugged. “You’d be very welcome. What if I said your brothers and sisters were even waiting for you?”

Sarah’s mind struggled to focus. “I’m an only child,” she said seriously. “And I have no siblings or family.” At least not any longer. None that supported her. None that didn’t rape her. “I don’t belong anywhere,” she added. “It’s kind of my thing.”

Brady remained silent for a moment.

“Sarah, you have a beautiful body and soul. The Lord made you that way, regardless of how you think of yourself.”

The reference to the Lord edged a muted disquiet into her muddled mind. Sex and salvation. Those are the two choices. Perhaps Brady was both?

“Can’t a beautiful soul be broken?”

Brady nodded. “Of course. It happens more regularly than you might think.” He pushed himself off the chair and crouched beside her. His scent filled her sense of smell and her mind wandered to his fingers inside of her. “Sarah,” he said quietly, “all anyone ever needs is a little shelter to find themselves.” She didn’t know if he referred to the pill she’d swallowed or something more generic.

He continued, holding her fingers lightly in his hand. “We aren’t quite self-sufficient, but we grow our own crops, raise our own livestock. We do as much as we can for ourselves. We don’t allow phones or computers. We have our own laws, our own justice. We’re free to love as we choose. We’re all created equal.”

Sarah nodded slowly. His eyes captivated, his fingers warm.

“It all sounds very hippie to me,” Sarah said.

Brady nodded. “That isn’t far from the truth, although we don’t run around barefoot in tie-dye. Mostly.”

Sarah thought immediately of Fedora with the mention of tie-dye. She wanted to return to her train station, but she also didn’t.

“Will you come with me and at least see the compound? Meet your brothers and sisters? It’s harvest season.”

Again a crossroads loomed. Again, the decision remained unclear and murky. Perhaps a change of scenery would benefit her. Further, the prospect of spending another night with Brady made her tingle. The siren prospect of belonging, after being on her own for her entire life, captivated her. She doubted if anyone else could truly accept her, even if Brady had, but in the worst case, her train station was not moving anywhere.

Sarah slowly nodded, her fingers grasped lightly in the warmth of his palm. With that simple acceptance, her destiny altered again for the next year, like a train hurtling towards a sharp curve, unable to save itself.