Page 21 of Moonlight Feels Right
"You should. But why did you ask, Hunter? Are you just bored and looking for a conversation that isn't about you, or are you really interested in getting to know me?"
He hesitated, seeing the demand for truth in her eyes, so he decided to give it to her. "I'm interested in getting to know you," he said.
"Why? Because I've been helping you out?"
"Not entirely. I can't quite figure you out, Emmalyn. You have a very sunny exterior. You always look bright and light, but a few things you've said have made me wonder what that hopeful optimism is covering up."
"I choose to be optimistic and to look forward. It's a choice I make every day because I didn't feel that way for a lot of my early life." She took a breath, her gaze moving to Olivia, who was still talking to her friend, while Zoe's parents were occupied entertaining their son. Then she looked back at him. "It was just my mom and me for the first five years of my life. I don't remember much about that time."
"What happened when you were five?"
"My mom met a man named Elias Ray. He ran a commune called Haven in the hills north of San Diego. At first, it seemed fun. I was so little, and there were lots of people, kids, and animals. Everyone was nice. It felt like we were camping, but as I got older, I realized how isolated we were, how little food we had to eat, how hard we had to work on the farm, even as young kids." She paused. "Some of the leaders had TVs and computers, but the rest of us had no connection to the outside world. There was no music allowed, no dancing, not even any laughing during workdays."
"What about school?"
"There was no school. My mom taught me how to read, and one of the other moms helped all of the kids learn math so we could add up the cost of the produce we were growing and eventually selling. It was very rigid and austere. There were a lot of rules."
"Was it religious?"
"Not specifically. They didn't follow a particular religion; it was more about living off the grid, being in nature, one with the earth. They didn't believe in medicine or doctors or anything materialistic. We all wore the same thing—pajama-like clothes or oversized dresses that went to the ground. It felt like the women and the girls worked the hardest. We had to clean, cook, sew, and take care of all the boys and the men. I didn't like it, but when I complained, my mother told me to stop, that this was our family now, and we had nowhere else to go."
"That sounds awful."
"I'm lucky that I was young enough to not really understand how awful it was."
"How could your mother stay there?"
"She would tell you that she stayed because they gave her everything she needed. We were really poor when we were on our own. We were sleeping in a car for a while. She was being taken care of at the farm, and she was grateful for that."
"It sounds like she was brainwashed."
"Definitely."
"How did you end up leaving?"
"My aunt found us. She had been looking for us for seven years, ever since we'd basically disappeared off the face of the earth. She figured out that the commune set up booths at various farmers' markets, and sometimes the women and children would go there to run the booth. It was actually a privilege to be allowed to do that, and I was thrilled when I finally got to go with my mom. But that's when I really saw how different our life was from other people. The kids I saw at the market were happy. They got to play and eat cookies and run around."
She paused as she licked her dripping ice cream cone. Then she continued, "My aunt said she'd gone to hundreds of markets before she found us. She waited for us to take a break, and then she pulled us into the parking lot. She said she was going to save us."
"What happened?" he asked as she quickly licked up some dripping ice cream. He was completely caught up in her story.
"My mom told her we didn't need saving. They argued. As I listened to my mom say how great things were and how happy I was, I got angry. I told her none of that was true, that our life was hard, and I wanted to leave. My aunt was promising me school, food, and freedom, and I wanted it all."
She popped the rest of her cone into her mouth, taking a minute before she continued her story. "I begged my mom to let us go. I said I didn't want to have to marry an old man like one of the girls a few years older than me had just done. And that's when something changed in her expression. I saw fear and worry. Finally, she said I could go with my aunt, but she had to return to Haven. She couldn't leave her family. She couldn't leave the man she loved. She'd never find anyone else to take care of her." Emmalyn's voice broke, and she cleared her throat, giving him a tight smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to say all that. I'm as bad as Olivia."
He shook his head. "The last thing you have to do is apologize. How could your mother let you go? You were her daughter, her blood." He felt a fiery rage toward her supremely selfish mother.
Emmalyn shrugged as if she didn't care, but he knew she did.
"My aunt and I both made the same argument," she said. "But my mom walked away, and my aunt told me to get into the car. She said one day she'd get my mom to leave, and we'd be together again. I was terrified I'd made the wrong choice. I cried for weeks."
"That's understandable."
"My aunt was very kind to me, but I didn't even know her, and her life seemed so foreign. When she signed me up for school, I felt completely out of touch with the other kids. I was like an alien from Mars. I didn't know anything. I was lost." She paused. "I think that's why seeing Olivia's face when her mother left her with you hit me so hard. I could see myself in her. It's not the same, of course, and I'm sure her mom will come back, but her pain touched me."
He shook his head in bemusement. "I never would have guessed you had a story like that to tell."
"It's not one I like to share, so I don't. It's too embarrassing."
