Yesterdays Gone: SEASON TWO (THE POST-APOCALYPTIC SERIAL THRILLER) (Yesterday's Gone)

New Unity meal at The Sanctuary. We welcome you into our family.”  

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4 - PAOLA OLSON

    March 22
    Kingsland, Alabama
    The Sanctuary
    1:32 p.m.

    Paola took another white plate from Rebecca and ran the small hand towel over the dish until it was dry, then placed it on the counter atop an identical stack.
    The girls were on dish duty for the second day in a row, Paola’s third at The Sanctuary. The kitchen was the largest Paola had ever seen, looking more like a restaurant than a house, even though the house was huge and even nicer than Desmond’s back at Warson Woods. There were four deep stainless steel sinks and two faucets with hose attachments, which made washing dishes easy, but not as easy as a giant dishwasher would have been.
    Yesterday, they’d been helped by Caitlin, who had taken the dishes to storage after Paola had dried them. Caitlin was on cleaning duty today, though.
    “What’s the deal with the dresses?” Paola asked in a whisper, finally working up the courage to ask what had been on her mind for two days.
    Rebecca had just turned 13 a couple of weeks ago, yet she looked younger than Paola by at least a year. Perhaps, Paola thought, she looked young because of the way she was dressed, with her hair in a perfect ponytail and figure in a long dark blue dress that looked straight out of some puritanical catalog. All the girls wore the same style dress, though Paola was still wearing her jeans and tee shirts. She wondered how long until someone asked her to wear the uniform. Her mom had still not given permission for Paola to attend The Sanctuary’s classes, just yet anyway. In fact, Paola wasn’t even sure they’d be staying at Sanctuary, which might have been why nobody asked her to wear the ugly dress yet.
    “What do you mean?” Rebecca asked, as if genuinely confused by the question.
    “Why do you all wear these dresses?” Paola asked.
    The girl looked down at her dress, then up at Paola, “The Prophet believes that it’s best to dress modestly, lest we tempt the weakness in men.”
    “What?”
    “Yes, The Prophet says men are easily confused by women’s looks. It’s a trick the Devil uses to confuse men, to lead them from the Lord’s Path. So it’s our responsibility as women not to tempt them.”
    Paola had to bury the urge to laugh. The look on the girl’s face reminded her of Paola’s algebra teacher.
    “So, if a guy hits on you, it’s your fault because the way you’re dressed?”
    “Yes,” Rebecca said, giving Paola’s outfit an up-and-down look, but saying nothing.
    “Wow,” Paola said, “That’s messed up.”
    “What do you mean?” Rebecca asked, face concerned; curious more than offended.
    “You think it’s a sin to have a guy look at you? Flirt with you?”
    “Well, those things lead to other things. The Lord is clear on s-e-x before marriage.”
    Paola couldn’t contain the laugh after the girl spelled out “sex.” She felt as if she’d gone back in time to the 50’s or something.
    Rebecca turned away, red-faced, putting her attention back to the dishes in the sink.
    “I’m sorry,” Paola said, “I’ve never met someone so . . . religious before.”
    Rebecca handed Paola a plate, and said, “It’s nothing I’m ashamed of.”
    “No, and I’m not saying you should be,” Paola said awkwardly as she dried off the plate, “It’s just, you know, different from what I’m used to.”
    A few moments of silence stretched between them, punctuated by the splashes of water and clinking of plates as Paola stacked them.  
    Finally, Rebecca spoke, though she kept her eyes on the plates in the sink, “Have you ever kissed a boy?”
    Paola smiled, “Yes. Once in sixth grade. Tommy Volchek kissed me behind the bleachers in gym class.”
    “Just once?”
    “Yeah, I thought he liked me, and would ask me to the dance. But after he kissed me, he got all weird, and stopped talking to me. I don’t know why.”
    More silence. Then Rebecca asked, “What was it like?”
    “It was weird at first, because it was like, by surprise. At first, I pulled away. But then I kissed him back, and he put his tongue in my mouth. And that was weird, but it also made me tingly all over. Weird, but good. I kept wondering if I was doing it right, and was afraid that maybe he had more experience than me and that I was a bad kisser. Maybe I was; maybe that’s why he didn’t ask me to the dance. I dunno. What about you? Have you ever had a