Drought Read Online Free Page A

it,” he tells her. “Listen to Sula.”
    She shakes her head.
    Then there is no more arguing or waiting. Darwin smashes the chain onto Meg’s back, and she lets out a gasp. A small smile plays on Darwin’s lips. He looks at Mother again.
    “No more,” Mother says. “Let me take it.”
    But Darwin hits Meg again.
    “Meg!” John cries in a strangled voice.
    Next to me, Ellie starts the prayer. It is a chant, really, the same simple thing over and over. We say it soft and low, but together we make enough noise to reach the top of the trees.
    Otto will come .
    Otto will come .
    Nobody leaves during the beatings. We are a family. So even though we cannot stop the chain’s blows, we can bear witness—and pray.
    Meg is crying now. Mother reaches out, as if to pat her back, then stops herself. Then she slides her hand on top of Meg’s and squeezes.
    Otto will come .
    Otto will come .
    Why do we only watch? Why don’t we stop him? Am I the only one tired of waiting for Otto—and of protecting me? Hate burns in me—hate for Darwin and hate for us, standing by while he hurts another Congregant.
    I look up and see Jonah staring, fists clenched, eyes narrowed. He was too weak to offer to take the beating—but at least he wishes he could fight too. My anger fades a little.
    One more strike, and Meg falls onto her stomach. Darwin lets the chain fall to his side.
    The chant fades away.
    Meg’s dress is not ripped, but blood darkens it from underneath, a fast-spreading stain that shadows her whole back. John reaches for her, and Darwin doesn’t stop him. He’s looking at Mother.
    “Are you sure?” Darwin asks softly, tender for just a moment, like he sometimes is with her. It doesn’t stop him from using every bit of muscle when he swings the chain.
    “Are you sure?” Mother doesn’t bow her head.
    I start the chant again, and so do all the other Congregants. It’s louder this time, and the Overseers shoulder their guns. I look for the new one.
    The chain speeds toward Mother’s back. There’s a horrible thump when it strikes—a sound that makes me cringe, no matter how many times I hear it. But she does not cry out.
    “Eight more,” Darwin says.
    The new Overseer’s gun is dangling in his hand now. His mouth hangs open. One of the other Overseers nudges him with the barrel of his gun, and he shakes his head. Then he slowly lifts his gun back into position.
    I chant louder.
    Otto will come .
    And I stare at the new Overseer. His face looks wet; could he be crying? Overseers don’t show emotion, unless you count anger, or lust.
    Darwin strikes Mother again, and this time a groan escapes her. She presses her hands into the ground, no longer staring up at him.
    I creep forward and kneel next to her. “Let me,” I say.
    “Get back, you useless girl!” she roars, and then the chain strikes again, just an inch from me. Somehow she finds the strength to kick me.
    She’s only protecting me. She wants me away from the chain, and from Darwin. She knows I’m not useless.
    I tell myself these things like my own chant, and the Congregation continues theirs.
    Otto will come .
    The new Overseer steps into the circle they’ve formed around us. He’s only a few steps from Darwin now.
    The chain lands again.
    Mother slumps to the forest floor. I want to hold her. I want to shield her. But I know what I am supposed to do—and that she would not forgive me for taking a blow. So I wait until I can help her.
    “Four more,” Darwin says. He runs his fingers along the chain and wipes the blood on his pants.
    “You have to stop.” The new Overseer is right next to Darwin. His eyes flick fast from the chain, to Mother, to Darwin … and then to me.
    Darwin blinks at him, draws a breath, then says nothing.
    “Don’t they suffer enough?” the new one asks.
    The Congregants’ chant falters, then dies. Are they all feeling hope flaring in them, like I do—and hating themselves for it? Perhaps this new one is