He stops right before the front door, looks me up and down. “Are you sure you want to wear your hair like that?” I touch my braid. “It’s just that I always saw you with your hair down, except when you were on the soccer field.” Every girl in our settlement wears her hair in a single braid. It’s one less distraction that can keep us focused on faith. I remove the elastic, and pull out the plaits, and let my hair loose. Something deeper and more fundamentally me is coming apart too. . . . “Relax,” Jondoe says. “Let the pro handle it. I’ll do all the talking. Just remember to smile.” And before I get to ask him why, the mirrored sunglasses go on and his teeth come out. He opens the front door and I am blinded by intense beams of light shooting at me from all directions. This is it! The end! The Rapture! Lights flash all around us, and I falter on wobbly knees. Jondoe puts his arm around me protectively, pulls me to his car, opens the door, gently shoves me inside, and closes the door behind me.
