Obstetrix(18)

Except instead of “downward-facing dog” it was “make a deep bow before the Lord” and instead of “upward-facing dog” it was “lift your face to the mountains,” and instead of “warrior two” it was “leaning into the Lord,” and instead of “corpse pose,” of course, it was “Lazarus pose.”

It was galling to hear the names, but a relief to go through the familiar exercises, to feel the stretch of the muscles around my hips, fatigue in my core and arms. I’d never stuck with yoga for more than a few months at a time, but sooner or later Kim always talked me into going back, and I always thought, I should do this more regularly. Maybe this time I will.

During “Lazarus pose,” Sarah recited a prayer that presumably we were all supposed to be silently joining in on, thanking God for community, for strengthening our bodies, and for forgiving our sins. I wondered if she thought kidnapping me was a forgivable sin, or just not a sin at all.

“Bring your exercise clothes back here after you’ve showered and leave them in the laundry bag,” Emma said, tapping a big sack. “It’ll be lunchtime in fifteen minutes; there’s just enough time to shower.”

After lunch, I spent another hour sewing patches on children’s pants, and then Emma invited me to “women’s Bible study,” which I went to in the hopes that I’d get a book out of the deal. Instead, the Bible was taken out from under lock and key by one of the men who then read a portion out loud to the women for discussion. The older girls were allowed to come, and I saw that I’d been right, the redheaded girl was Bethany, because she sat snuggled up with her mother.

The women discussed the story of Jonah, the guy who got eaten by the whale. They were focused on the idea that God’s will was inescapable. Jonah tried to run; God found him. Jonah delivered his message but clearly wanted Nineveh to get destroyed; God spared it. Then they talked about how imperfect Jonah was, how his heart clearly wasn’t in it when he did finally go to Nineveh, but despite this, the Ninevites repented and were saved.

“I have a question,” Bethany said. She spoke in the same sweet, girlish voice as everyone else. It sounded less incongruous coming from an actual child.

“Yes?” said the older woman who’d led the Bible study.

“We’re all here, in—in Tarshish.” That’s the town in the story that Jonah initially flees to. “We’re in this wonderful, safe place, and everyone we used to know back in the world is out there ignorant of God’s wrath. Not knowing their left hand from their right, like God says about the Ninevites. Why is it okay for us to live here?”

“Because we’re obeying God by being here,” the older woman said. “This is really a story about obedience, not a story about repentance. Jonah disobeys God, and God punishes him. Then he obeys God, and God uses his obedience. We’re here because God spoke to Pastor, and we followed his leading. It may be that someday, we’ll be sent out. But we should wait for the right time, for God’s time. And for now, we’re waiting here and doing our best to walk the path the Lord has made for us, as Pastor is showing us.” She smiled at Bethany, a kind smile, not an angry one. “Does that make sense?”

“Oh, yes, Sister Caroline. Thank you.”

I went back to the mending corner when Bible study was over, still without a book. Emma and Janet were still talking about Jonah. My mind drifted back to the yoga class, to the idea that they’d renamed downward-facing dog, for crying out loud. Christians didn’t have anything against dogs. Well, maybe this cult did. I hadn’t seen any dogs here. But probably they’d just wanted to rename everything, to remove the “taint” of this activity being yoga, which they probably thought was satanic or at least heathen.

It occurred to me that I’d never made it all the way through a yoga class without thinking about the charting I still had to do.

Of course, this time I had thought about escaping. I’d thought, I should come to the fitness class, build up my arm strength and core strength. I have no way to know what I might need to do to escape.



* * *



TONIGHT’S AFTER-DINNER RITUAL WAS “Testimonies and Confessions,” and various people stepped up to deliver some sort of personal story, most of them pretty dull. Bethany rose to confess that she’d been tempted to shirk her work washing dishes today, but she’d prayed to God for strength and had overcome that temptation. I wondered if she’d been praying, or shirking, when I saw her in the bathroom.

The high drama came near the end, when one of the adult men confessed, weeping, to looking at pornography. He announced that he was putting himself in the hands of the Elders for discipline, and two men put their hands on his shoulders and guided him out.

The woman next to me, who had two young, somewhat squirmy kids, looked sort of contemptuous.

“What’s going to happen to him?” I whispered.

“He’ll get a thrashing.”

“Wait, corporal punishment?”

“That’s what ‘putting yourself in the hands of the Elders’ means. Or being put in the hands of the Elders, people don’t always volunteer for it, but Turkey does a lot.”

“Turkey?”

“That’s his nickname. His real name’s Toby.”

“For porn? Or other stuff? Where does he even get porn?”