Beyond Belief by Jenna Miscavige Hill Read Free Book Online Page A

not have been fancy, and there were certainly a few holes in the walls, but none of this put me off. It needed work, but it seemed like an adventure that I would get to participate in. The landscape was unfamiliar, but the kids seemed so proud of the place. Looking back on it now, they were probably eager to show off to us younger kids, but their attitude was infectious, making me feel like I was somewhere special.
    It was also a relief not be confined to a tiny apartment as well. Back in L.A., we were never allowed outside unsupervised, but the huge, expansive land at the Ranch made me feel like I could breathe easier and not have to hold someone’s hand every time I went outside. For the first time I could remember, I felt like I had space to run around and imagine things. And, if that weren’t enough, being reunited with Justin and Taryn made feel me like I was getting to do all this with family.
    As we walked around the property, B. J. and I learned that that there were five dogs living at the Ranch who would be keeping us company most of the time. They weren’t guard dogs, but they were protective, friendly watchdogs, who would follow the kids around everywhere and keep an eye on us. Each had its own distinct personality. Brewster, a German shepherd, was the alpha dog. Tasha, the female German shepherd, was extremely loyal. Ruby was a very old, lazy, grumpy Labrador with a bark that sounded like a toad. There was also Jeta, a middle-aged female Lab. Bo, the fifth dog, looked like a wolf, with his hair always coming out in clumps.
    Our first few days at the Ranch were spent exploring with the dogs at our side. B. J. and I hardly noticed the sweltering heat as we walked through the desert in search of different cacti. In the morning, cows would roam the fields around the Ranch; for some reason, we were supposed to chase them away, which we would do with the dogs. The farther we walked, the more we could see just how big the Ranch was—the property itself was immense—as though we would never be able to explore the whole thing. I had always worn incredibly frilly dresses that my grandma, Aunt Denise, my godparents, and Uncle Dave had sent me for my birthday and Christmas. Suddenly, at the Ranch, those dresses were out of place, as they seemed to soak up dirt the moment I stepped out the door.
    A FTER I ’D HAD A BIT OF TIME TO TAKE EVERYTHING IN, I WAS still unsure what to make of all this. I loved it there. Whether it was the dogs or simply the way that we lived, it was dramatically different from life in Los Angeles. For the first few months, there were only a few adults to watch the approximately fifteen kids at the Ranch. For the most part, the older kids were the ones who took care of B. J. and me and told us what to do. At the time this seemed much better to me as they were young, seemed cool, and were nice to us, although they often made fun of my dresses.
    Not long after we arrived, we met Joe Conte, or Mr. C, for short. He was introduced as the head adult at the Ranch. There was also a rotating security guard and a woman by the name of Karen Fassler, or Mr. F, as we called her. In Scientology, both sexes, male and female adults, went by Mister or Sir. Mr. F was pretty, fairly nice, and in charge of logistics, uniforms, food runs, and other business. Mr. C was friendly and easygoing, tall and thin, with a mustache and a bald head. He was rugged with an outdoorsy look about him; he struck all the kids as smart and very cool. My favorite books at the time were the young readers versions of Chronicles of Narnia and, in my mind, Mr. C was Professor Digory Kirke.
    The kids themselves were essentially responsible for all of the various renovations going on at the Ranch. Projects involving electricity and plumbing were usually done by a specialist, who was an adult at the Int Base or a hired contractor, with kids helping. Everything on site faced city and county inspections, so the work had to be up to code. B. J. and