This Side of Salvation

CHAPTER 27

NOW

Ezra invites the three of us into his cavernous, immaculate kitchen, gives us sodas, and heats up the toaster oven for Bagel Bites.

“I asked not to be taken.” He scoops dry dog food from a tin into a stainless steel bowl. “Someone needed to keep an eye on Grandmom. She’s in early stage Alzheimer’s, so I go over there every day to make sure she’s okay. But mostly I wanted to stay for Molly.”

Sitting at his feet, the dog tilts her head at the sound of her name. “So you had a choice?” Bailey asks him.

“Right, because I’m eighteen. Eve didn’t know where they were

going. They wouldn’t let us inform any kids, in case they blabbed about it to their friends.” Ezra frowns into the sink as he turns on the water. “She wanted to stay even more than I did. Her sixteenth birthday is next week. She has a million friends. She was just made cocaptain of her field hockey team.”

“Is this the same Eve who was in Math Cave?” I ask him,remembering the antisocial wallflower from last year.

He gives me a level look. “She’s developed. It’s one reason my parents wanted to take her away.”

“How much do you know about this place they went?” Mara asks him.

“Everything, I think, other than where it is. No one knew the coordinates except Sophia and the people who literally helped build it.”

“Like our dad,” I told him, “and by the way, we have the coordinates. We’ll give them to you if you tell us what you know. Fair exchange?”

“Hmm.” Ezra adds warm water to the dog dish while Molly paces next to the kitchen island, claws clicking on the stone floor. Then he stirs the food and puts the bowl into a holder about a foot off the ground. We wait, not so patiently, for his answer.

Finally he turns to us as the dog begins to eat. “I’ll do it. I’m worried about my sister.”

“It’s called ‘Almost Heaven.’” Ezra opens his laptop on the kitchen table. “Which makes me think it’s in West Virginia. Because of the John Denver song?”

Bailey laughs. I make a mental note to look up the reference later. “It’s actually in upstate New York.” That’s as much as I’m willing to give Ezra until he dishes out more information.“Ah, that makes sense. Check this out.”

He shows us a photo of a wooden lodge on the edge of a lake. In the foreground is a rickety dock with a motorboat tied to it, and to either side sit smaller buildings. But in the background . . .

“Gorgeous mountains.” Bailey leans in, her long braid falling between herself and Ezra, who manages to keep his focus on the screen. Good boy. “Can you email us this picture?”

“Yeah, but I’ll print it too. You should have a hard copy—there’s no cell phone service or Internet up there, just one satellite phone for emergencies. That’s how remote this place is, according to Dad. He took this picture on his phone, then I snagged a copy over the Wi-Fi when he came back, without him knowing. Up top.” He raises his hand for a self-congratulatory high five, which no one dispenses.

Ah, there’s the Ezra we know and don’t love.

“How many can stay at this place?” Mara asks him.

He lowers his hand. “About a hundred and fifty. I’m not sure if

it’s full yet. No roads go there, so they have to transport people in batches by boat or floatplane.”

“No cars or cell phones?” Bailey says. “Sounds like heaven.”

“Almost. Hence the name of the place. Mom said Sophia’s followers have been building it for years.”

“Our dad’s been helping them since October,” I tell him.

“You’ve all been helping them.” Ezra glances at me, then Mara, who looks as confused as I feel. “Right? Because our family has, and it’s not fair if everyone isn’t making equal sacrifices.”

I lean in, gripping the back of his chair. “What do you mean, ‘sacrifices’?” The word reminds me of Sophia and all I gave up.

“We used to go on cruises every year. I was Harvard-bound.” Ezra looks at Molly, who’s curled up on a blue memory-foam orthopedic dog bed. “She needs hip replacement surgery, but we can’t afford it now.”

“Wait.” Mara slaps the table beside Ezra. “Are you saying our families have given them money? That’s where my college funds went?”

“So you did contribute money. Good.”

This revelation leaves me speechless. No wonder we got so poor so fast. Funds had been tight since Dad lost his job more than a year ago, but I’d noticed that the stinginess shot up big time after my birthday. Which was exactly when they met Sophia.

The situation is becoming clearer, but my mind is still fumbling for some basic truth behind it all.

Of the three of us, Bailey is staying calmest. “Ezra, what were you contributing to? What exactly is Almost Heaven?”

“Kind of like a commune or one of those crunchy hippie retreat centers where everybody pitches in to support the place—cook, clean, build. You get the idea.”

Bailey frowns. “Why all this drama for a church retreat? Couldn’t they just say, ‘Hey, we’re taking off for a week. Be back soon’?”

“You don’t get it,” Ezra says. “They’re not coming back. This is where they’ve gone to disappear until the Second Coming.”

I stare at him. Bailey covers her mouth, then grasps my hand. I must look like I’m about to fall over. It sure feels like it.

Mara sinks slowly into another kitchen chair. “All this time they knew there was no Rush. How could they lie to us like that, for months?” Her voice catches on a near sob.

“They did it to all the kids,” Ezra says. “But wait—you guys aren’t eighteen yet. Why aren’t you two with them?”

“We weren’t home,” I manage to croak out.

“So you missed the bus, literally.” His little chuckle fades quickly. “Sorry.”

I close my eyes for a long moment. Don’t freak out here. We need answers. But all I can think about is walking into Mom and Dad’s room and seeing their flat, lifeless facsimiles lying in bed.

At least that thought gives me another question for Ezra. “Did your parents leave their clothes behind?”

“They left a lot of clothes behind. There were strict limits on what they could bring.”

“No, I mean, did they leave clothes together in an outfit to make it look like they’d been taken?”

He laughs. “No. Why would they do that?” He figures it out for himself. “Oh, to make people believe the Rapture happened. My parents knew I wasn’t exactly going to shout it from the rooftops that they were gone. So there was no one here to fool.”

“What about other Rushers?” Mara asks him. Her breathing is near normal again and her eyes are dry. “Did you meet any of them? Do you know where we can find them?”

“No. I wasn’t invited to the meetings. Hey, if you do go to Almost Heaven, don’t tell them I gave you all this intelligence. My parents might get in trouble.”

“We won’t tell.” Her eyes narrow in anger. “Besides, I have half a mind to let Mom and Dad rot in that place, so we can get on with our lives.”

Part of me agrees with her, and envies Ezra for being old enough to live on his own. But the Deckers’ house feels so huge and empty. I never thought I’d miss the sound of my dad shuffling around, or his Bible-verse spouting, or my mom’s off-tune hymn humming.

But I do. God, I do.