Always Watching

her mouth parted.
    Aaron said, “They have a new family now.”
    My dad said, “Kids, get your stuff.”
    I felt a movement to my left. My mother was starting to rise, but slowly, cautiously, her face scared. She looked at my dad, then Aaron, hesitation in her eyes. I was shot full of fear. I wanted to leave, but I was afraid my dad was going to punish us for having run away. I couldn’t tell what my mom was scared about—my dad or leaving. Robbie was moving away from the table now, toward his tent, but he was walking slowly, looking back at my mom, waiting for her. She finally started toward her cabin, but as she passed Aaron, he grabbed her arm.
    “Kate, think about what you’re doing. Your children are safe here.”
    Standing by the truck door, my dad said, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
    Aaron glanced at him, then instantly let go of my mother. I looked at my father, and realized he was now holding a rifle down by his legs. He must’ve had it on the floorboards.
    My dad said, “My family’s going to get their belongings and our animals. Then they’re leaving with me. You got a problem with that?”
    Aaron calmly said, “Hey, man. We don’t want any problems here. If they want to split, they can go anytime.”
    The trailer was still parked behind the barn, and Mom and Robbie quickly loaded the horses. Terrified of what might happen once we got home and confused about why my father had shown up after all these months, I was standing transfixed, watching them. Robbie motioned for me to get moving. I grabbed Jake and the cats, putting them in the cab of the truck, with my bag of belongings. I kept glancing at the table, where the group was watching us, some of them looking confused, others upset. I wanted to say good-bye, but when I moved toward the table, Robbie grabbed my arm. “We’ve gotta go.”
    That was the last time I saw any of them.

 
    CHAPTER EIGHT
    The evening after my session with Heather, I went to grab my bike out of the shed, just like I had many nights since I moved there, but this time the small space made me break out in a sweat and my heart race. I gripped the handles on my bike and tried to back out quickly, but a garden tool fell over and jammed in one of the wheels. In a full panic now, I yanked on the tool, but my palms were slippery, and my hand slammed backward against the wall, scratching my knuckles.
    After I finally got my bike out, I wheeled it down my driveway, sucking the small wound, angry at myself. Earlier that day, I’d also panicked when I was waiting for the elevator to the parking lot. The doors opened, and I hadn’t been able to get in, even though there were no people standing inside. I had to take the stairs, fighting nausea in the cramped stairwell until I’d finally pushed the metal doors open and flung myself out into the light, breathing in big gulps of fresh air.
    It was obvious my talks with Heather about the center were bringing back my claustrophobia, but I just wished I knew why, so I could face the fear head-on. I decided to bike down to the seawall to clear my mind. I’d paused at a red light, when a pickup truck idled up beside me. When I glanced over, I noticed an older man with a baseball hat, long nose, and dark, bushy eyebrows, like my father’s. There was an empty rifle rack in the back window. The light turned green, and he roared off, but I was left frozen in a memory.
    As we drive away from the commune, I glance back through the rear window. Aaron is staring after the truck, with hatred in his eyes like I’d never seen before in my life. My breath lets out in a gasp. Robbie turns to look, but by then Aaron’s expression is blank again. He watches until we are out of sight.
    A car pulled up beside me, the radio blasting, and I was snapped back into the present. I continued on my way down to the seawall, but I couldn’t shake the pall my memory had cast over me. I’d forgotten that look on Aaron’s face the day we left, how badly it had scared me. Now I remembered all the fear I’d felt as we drove off, that somehow Aaron would make us go back and that we’d be in trouble, but I was also happy to see my father, my mother sitting beside him again, all of us crammed into the front seat of the truck. We were going home.
    We tried to settle back into our lives, and I’d tried to fit back into my school. One of the members had been a former teacher so we’d had some classes, but I had to work hard to catch up or risk being