chosen for the program?” Kelly managed to sound casual as she asked.
Stedman’s eyes lit up with the fire of messianic zeal. “The Lord God spoke to me in a vision. When Kylie Powers was born, the Lord showed me a golden halo around her perfect little head. It was immediately clear to me that she was destined for something great. Her parents were serving in missionary work at one of our satellite offices at the time, but after that vision, I knew I had to send for them to return to the Ark right away, so that Kylie could be in the proper environment from the very beginning.”
Everyone they had met so far looked and sounded eminently normal, the surroundings were beautifully maintained, but Claudia found Harold Stedman’s tale of visions deeply disturbing. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in miracles, just not this one.
The sound of a gong interrupted the question Claudia was about to form: What exactly might a three-year-old be trained for? Everyone rose together as an elderly woman wearing a purple shift slid onto the bench of an old upright piano and played a few opening bars. The room became filled with voices raised in a hymn Claudia didn’t recognize. They finished with another prayer and the dining hall emptied within a few minutes.
Claudia and Harold Stedman returned to the office, leaving Kelly to charm Brother Norquist. “What is it that makes you think you’ve been infiltrated, Mr. Stedman?” Claudia asked, hoping Kelly could get some helpful information from the old man.
Stedman walked a little faster, his sandals kicking up dust on the gravel. “The government is always digging around. They’ve sent health inspectors here, openly harassing us. There’s nothing for them to find, but I know they continue to look.”
“You think the government has someone inside?”
“Who else?”
Claudia suppressed a smile. Just because you’re paranoid it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. She didn’t pretend to have much faith in government, but she couldn’t imagine why they would send someone undercover in the Temple of Brighter Light. Unless, perhaps, they had reason to believe the group had a cache of weapons or something of that magnitude. It wouldn’t be the first time a fringe group had been investigated, especially since 9-11.
Stedman seemed disinclined to talk further and they walked on in silence. The vegetable garden was empty now, and Claudia felt glad for the women who had been working there. If there was any justice at the Ark, they were home, relaxing in a cool bath.
Rita the office assistant was there to meet them. Harold Stedman spoke kindly to her. “Rita, Sister Claudia and I will be in Brother Powers’s office. We’re not to be disturbed, please.” He took Claudia along a short hall and into Rodney Powers’s office, which was only slightly larger than an elevator car; scarcely enough room to walk around the desk that filled it. As he shut the door behind them Claudia felt the walls close in. She had a hard time picturing a two-year-old playing in here while her father tried to work.
A four-drawer metal filing cabinet rose behind the desk, and a head-high shelf that held a set of oversized three-ring binders made it feel even more cramped. On the wall to the left of the desk was a large framed photograph of sand and surf, with a poem Claudia had seen before: “Footprints in the Sand.” To the right was a wall calendar. The date of Kylie’s third birthday had been circled in red.
“I’ve got everything ready for you,” Stedman said. “I’ve always been fascinated by the written word. Earlier in my life I spent many a day in museums, studying ancient texts. I’ve even collected some antique writings. Perhaps while you’re here, I’ll show you a couple of items that might be of interest to you.”
“I’m certainly interested in ancient writings.”
Stedman looked pleased at her response. “We’ll see what can be arranged. But for now, to the
Stedman’s eyes lit up with the fire of messianic zeal. “The Lord God spoke to me in a vision. When Kylie Powers was born, the Lord showed me a golden halo around her perfect little head. It was immediately clear to me that she was destined for something great. Her parents were serving in missionary work at one of our satellite offices at the time, but after that vision, I knew I had to send for them to return to the Ark right away, so that Kylie could be in the proper environment from the very beginning.”
Everyone they had met so far looked and sounded eminently normal, the surroundings were beautifully maintained, but Claudia found Harold Stedman’s tale of visions deeply disturbing. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe in miracles, just not this one.
The sound of a gong interrupted the question Claudia was about to form: What exactly might a three-year-old be trained for? Everyone rose together as an elderly woman wearing a purple shift slid onto the bench of an old upright piano and played a few opening bars. The room became filled with voices raised in a hymn Claudia didn’t recognize. They finished with another prayer and the dining hall emptied within a few minutes.
Claudia and Harold Stedman returned to the office, leaving Kelly to charm Brother Norquist. “What is it that makes you think you’ve been infiltrated, Mr. Stedman?” Claudia asked, hoping Kelly could get some helpful information from the old man.
Stedman walked a little faster, his sandals kicking up dust on the gravel. “The government is always digging around. They’ve sent health inspectors here, openly harassing us. There’s nothing for them to find, but I know they continue to look.”
“You think the government has someone inside?”
“Who else?”
Claudia suppressed a smile. Just because you’re paranoid it doesn’t mean they’re not out to get you. She didn’t pretend to have much faith in government, but she couldn’t imagine why they would send someone undercover in the Temple of Brighter Light. Unless, perhaps, they had reason to believe the group had a cache of weapons or something of that magnitude. It wouldn’t be the first time a fringe group had been investigated, especially since 9-11.
Stedman seemed disinclined to talk further and they walked on in silence. The vegetable garden was empty now, and Claudia felt glad for the women who had been working there. If there was any justice at the Ark, they were home, relaxing in a cool bath.
Rita the office assistant was there to meet them. Harold Stedman spoke kindly to her. “Rita, Sister Claudia and I will be in Brother Powers’s office. We’re not to be disturbed, please.” He took Claudia along a short hall and into Rodney Powers’s office, which was only slightly larger than an elevator car; scarcely enough room to walk around the desk that filled it. As he shut the door behind them Claudia felt the walls close in. She had a hard time picturing a two-year-old playing in here while her father tried to work.
A four-drawer metal filing cabinet rose behind the desk, and a head-high shelf that held a set of oversized three-ring binders made it feel even more cramped. On the wall to the left of the desk was a large framed photograph of sand and surf, with a poem Claudia had seen before: “Footprints in the Sand.” To the right was a wall calendar. The date of Kylie’s third birthday had been circled in red.
“I’ve got everything ready for you,” Stedman said. “I’ve always been fascinated by the written word. Earlier in my life I spent many a day in museums, studying ancient texts. I’ve even collected some antique writings. Perhaps while you’re here, I’ll show you a couple of items that might be of interest to you.”
“I’m certainly interested in ancient writings.”
Stedman looked pleased at her response. “We’ll see what can be arranged. But for now, to the
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