Devoted by Jennifer Mathieu Read Free Book Online

don’t believe this book honors the Lord, and you must destroy it,” he says. “Now.” He motions to the kitchen.
    Numbly, I walk to the trash can as my father and siblings follow. Dad hands me the book, and as I rip the pages out and throw them into the garbage, I think about Meg and Charles Wallace and Aunt Beast and Calvin and how I’ll never get to be with them again. I think about how delicious it felt to read the book under my blanket with the flashlight I took from the garage, and how good it felt to absorb its words for the first time. How it didn’t feel evil at all. I think about how even after I’d read the book once, I could read it again and again and always find some new word or phrase or have some new understanding about it.
    I try not to cry as the pages slip into the garbage can like dead leaves.
    And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.
    It runs through my mind on a loop.
    *   *   *
    After I destroy the book, Dad tells me I need to sit down at the kitchen table with the Bible and find five verses that speak about witchcraft and sorcery and copy them each down ten times. Several of us have had to do this before, like when Matthew was caught looking at swimsuit magazines in the grocery store. Dad even made him eat alone in the garage for three nights after that. The last time I had to copy Scriptures as punishment was a few years ago, when Dad found me watching television at an appliance store downtown. I feel trapped in the kitchen alone while the rest of my family hums along with its usual bedtime activities. Ruth has been left to tend to all the little ones, and I work as quickly as I can to find the verses because I don’t want her to be overwhelmed with so much to do. Sometimes being part of a big family feels suffocating, but when you’re purposely kept out of it, it feels terribly lonely.
    Finally, I find one more verse and scribble it down on the piece of paper Dad’s given me. I go back into the family room and hand it to him.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Dad, that I’ve disobeyed you and the word of God,” I say. I squeeze my fists tight as I say this. I want to believe it so very much. But I can’t ignore the other part of me that wonders just why my behavior is so disobedient.
    Dad takes the paper and gives me my nightly blessing, then looks at me and says, “Rachel, I love you so much, and it’s my duty to make sure you don’t stray from the word of the Lord. You understand, don’t you?” He frowns slightly, perhaps worried he hasn’t made his point.
    â€œYes, Dad, I do understand,” I say. I know his attention to our protection and salvation is foremost in his mind at all times. I should be grateful.
    As I pass my parents’ bedroom on my way to my room, I see the light is off. I wonder if Dad will tell Mom what’s happened. I wonder if she’ll have the energy to care.
    The little ones are asleep, and I quickly brush my teeth and wash my face before slipping into my nightgown and crawling into bed. I think Ruth’s sleeping, but as soon as I curl up with my pillow, I hear her voice.
    â€œRachel, can I come over?”
    â€œSure,” I whisper.
    She tiptoes over and slides in next to me, and I realize it won’t be much longer before we’ll be just about the same height.
    â€œI thought you might be frustrated with me,” I say. “I’m sorry you had to put everyone to bed without my help.”
    â€œNo, it’s all right,” Ruth says. “I’m just worried. For you.”
    I freeze. We’re laying so close, but I feel a silence growing between us.
    â€œYou’re worried for me?” I ask.
    Ruth nods seriously. “Yes. For reading that book, Rachel. Shouldn’t … I mean, didn’t you think it wasn’t a godly book?”
    I can’t look at Ruth when I answer. “No,” I say. “I