Drought
By Pam Bachorz
3.5/5
()
About this ebook
A young girl thirsts for love and freedom, but at what cost?
Ruby dreams of escaping the Congregation. Escape from slaver Darwin West and his cruel Overseers. Escape from the backbreaking work of gathering water. Escape from living as if it is still 1812, the year they were all enslaved.
When Ruby meets Ford—an irresistible, kind, forbidden new Overseer—she longs to run away with him to the modern world where she could live a normal teenage life. Escape with Ford would be so simple.
But if Ruby leaves, her community is condemned to certain death. She, alone, possesses the secret ingredient that makes the water so special—her blood—and it's the one thing that the Congregation cannot live without.
Drought is the haunting story of one community's thirst for life, and the dangerous struggle of the only girl who can grant it.
Pam Bachorz
Pam Bachorz grew up in a small town in the Adirondack foothills, where she participated in every performance group and avoided any threat of athletic activity, unless it involved wearing sequined headpieces and treading water. With a little persuasion she will belt out tunes from "The Music Man" and "The Fantasticks", but she knows better than to play cello in public anymore. Pam attended college in Boston and finally decided she was finished after earning four degrees: a BS in Journalism, a BA in Environmental Science, a Masters in Library Science and an MBA. Her mother is not happy that Pam's degrees are stored under her bed. Pam draws inspiration from the places she knows best: she wrote CANDOR while living in a Florida planned community, and set DROUGHT in the woods where she spent her summers as a child. She currently lives in the metropolitan New Jersey area with her husband and their son. When she's not writing, working or parenting, Pam likes to read books not aimed at her age group, go to museums and theater performances, and watch far too much television. She even goes jogging. Reluctantly.
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Reviews for Drought
78 ratings17 reviews
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Felt a little preachy. And I'm still not sure why they were there in the first place.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Ruby is in no way your average 17 year old girl. This is perhaps most obvious in the fact that she is actually 200. She and her mother and the rest of the Congregation have all lived for centuries. Ruby's father, Otto, led them and gave them long life through the power of his blood, but then he left. In his absence, they have been forced into servitude, made to gather Water so that others may share in the magic. They lied though about what turns water into Water; Darwin West, the man who enslaves them, does not know that there is Water only because Ruby drops some of her blood into it. Like her father's, Ruby's blood has amazing healing powers. Only they may not be strong enough to rescue the Congregation from Darwin West. And Ruby is starting to suspect that her father may never return to save them.
Drought is a really strange book. Partly because I thought it was going to be a dystopia, which it did seem to be for a while, but then it turned out to be something else. I would not have picked up on the point of the story at all, if not for an observation by one of the characters; I would discuss it, because it's an interesting theme, but the reveal is a part of what makes the story interesting, so I won't. Suffice it to say that it is covering fairly new ground in teen lit.
The story is fairly slow moving without much real action; the characters spend much of the book gathering water and getting beatings. While a whipping may sound like action, it felt more like drudgery, because it happened to the Congregants most every day. Just because the book is slow doesn't mean it was hard to get through; it actually flowed along at a slow pace, like a sluggish river.
The characters were a bit of a weak point. Ruby was definitely most likable, which is good since you see from her perspective. I couldn't get caught up in her romance or her worries about the Congregation though, because I did not see why either one really deserved such devotion.
Religious themes are hugely important to the plot of this novel. The Congregation is so named because they all worship together. They worship Otto, their savior who promised to return (sound somewhat familiar?). They believe in him because of the miracles he performed (now?). A couple of clever things are done with this, such as the scene where Ruby and her love interest both insult one another's beliefs: she his in the Holy Trinity and he hers in Otto.
Overall, I really do not know how I feel about this book. It was just so strange! For that reason alone, I think I am happy to have read it, because it is definitely walking some fresh ground. My plans to read Candor, Bachorz' other book have not changed; this book was well-written enough and interesting enough to earn her another try. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The first chapter or two were enticing, so I was looking forward to uncovering this story. Unfortunately absolutely nothing new is revealed after the first 50 pages or so and the ending is drawn out and insipid. What a shame.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5For 200 years, Ruby and the Congregation have been controlled by Darwin, a ruthless Overseer who forces them to collect water from the leaves of plants every morning and harvest it in great cisterns. This magical water stops aging, but there's something Darwin doesn't know - it's not the water itself, but the blood in the water that makes it special. Ruby's blood. Conflicted between leaving her family and all she's ever known or escaping and making her way in a new world, Ruby must choose between the two: her family, and Ford, the only man she's ever loved, and an Overseer to boot.Though skeptical about this book at first, I was drawn in by the first few pages. The book seemed to take a magical hold over me, compelling me to read it in every spare second. I finished in about three and a half hours, and let me tell you, it was three and a half hours well-spent. The description was amazing, and the way the plot unfolded was truly astounding. I loved this book and would recommend it to anyone - especially those who enjoy romances and slightly dystopian themes. :)
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I was rather interested in this book based on the plot alone. Yes, it has bad reviews on Amazon and Goodreads, but it does not live up to the promise the plot gives. In fact, it falls flat thanks to 1.) stupid characters, 2.) implausible plot developments, and 3.) an ending that wrapped up 400 pages worth of action in 10 minutes.Ruby has lived her entire life living practically as a slave, gathering Water (dew collected daily from plants mixed with her blood which gives extended life and healing powers). She's 200 years old but looks and acts like she's 16. One of the Overseers, Ford, is the designated love interest of this tale. He's handsome, 18, and working as a slave driver to provide for his mother's cancer treatment. Ruby's mother claims to be looking out for the interests of the community while serving as a reverend for a Congregation that worships Otto, the original man whose blood gave life before he up and left the community to hide in the woods to continue on, but only after impregnating Ruby's mother. The main villain is a man named Darwin West, who is in love with Ruby's mother and, scorned, follows the Congregation into the woods and enslaves them in order to procure and sell the Water to the Visitor. The Congregation has lived there for 200 years and still lives as if it is 1810, waiting for Otto while Darwin manages to live on as a member of the outside community, recruiting Overseers to serve as guards from convicts and the desperate unemployed.Some tropes employed in this book include Instalove (Ford falls in love with Ruby at first sight, and she pretty much does as well). More importantly than that, everyone in the Congregation is apparently dumb. They make Ruby their leader and then when they realize she is in love with an Overseer they cast her out - by the end, Ruby's mother has become a secondary villain, even trying to kill Ford and tells Ruby she is an embarrassment and not worth love because she "betrayed the community" by trying to save them and not wait for Otto (who is now a Jesus-like figure).The ending seems like the author realized she needed to wrap it up and after 300 pages of harvesting Water, talking about Ruby's power, love, and how Darwin is evil, the Visitor shows up. I still don't get the Visitor - he just showed up and then left but managed to do so much in the process that concluded the novel. On top of this, Ford is also guilty of religious insensitivity, saying he can't love Ruby because worshiping Otto is heresy and a sin. Ruby, meanwhile, is guilty of "I love him, but I can't love him" in every chapter. We get it, we don't need to be reminded every five pages.In the end, this book had promise, but just fell flat. Ruby was dumb, her mother was a b*tch (all she had to do was marry Darwin - it was obviously she cared about him, but she was saving herself for Jesus - I mean Otto), and Ruby and Ford fell in love despite them having nothing in common besides googly eyes. Oh, and there were several obvious editing problems (they're versus their came up at least twice, and punctuation usage was off). A good premise does not make a good book.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5DROUGHT, by Pam Bachorz, is one of those books that, while reading it, made me absolutely insane. Let me explain. There is a lot of information thrown at you in a short amount of time. I had to figure out where this was taking place and what the rules of this society were. Not much of it is explained, so it is left to the reader to understand as you go along.The Congregants live in a sort-of 'cult' society where they have very little, except for the Water that has kept them alive for over two hundred years. They are enslaved by Darwin West who is a very evil man and proves that to these people each day when he orders his guards (Overseers) to whip the people if their quota of Water are not fulfilled each day. This happens often since there is not much water to be found (title hint- drought).In the beginning, this society of Congregants are tight-knit, until their youngest member and future Leader, Ruby, meets an Overseer who does not possess the same ideals as Darwin. A dangerous romance brews between these two and Ruby begins to question their current lifestyle. About 1/4 through the book I wanted to stop reading. I searched the book sites for reviews of this book wondering if it would be worth it to continue. One specific review stuck out for me. This reviewer had the same questions I did, but she did say the end was worth the confusing ride. And after slugging through it, I whole-heartedly agree.My biggest issues revolved around the Congregants. The Congregants constantly pray to Ruby's father, Otto, in the hopes of his return to save them all. They were afraid of their captors, which kept them on a tight leash but any thought about becoming free from Darwin was something they automatically turned down. WHY? I felt these people were brainwashed into staying because of Otto returning 'someday'. I think if they all rose up together against Darwin they could have broken free. Even though enough time had passed (200 years!), it seemed that they didn't even want to be free. Ruby's mother was at the top of my List (not a good list to be on). There were times I wanted to reach into the book and smack her for holding Ruby back from a life outside their prison.With my constant anger over the Congregants, I realized, that is probably the point. Bachorz skillfully pulled those emotions from me and ultimately made me enjoy the book. She made me invest everything into these characters. I enjoyed the strange relationship between Ruby and Ford. They bared their souls to each other and hoped in the end that would be enough for them to be together. After many revelations, I was glad I finished it. I was not prepared for my mind to wander about it days after finishing it. Bravo Bachorz, you managed to make me crazy then crazy for your book.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Let me tell you that I have read some crazy books but I have never read anything like this. This plot is so crazy and weird. Very weird. This book was very slow to start off with. The reader doesn't get very much information on what exactly is going on. I was confused but intrigued at the same time. I wanted to know more about the characters and their life so I read on.Drought is a weird cult book. These people believe in their god Otto, whom supposed came and left. They are awaiting his return. He left them blood which in turn keeps them young. Yeah, so as I continue to read this I thought that maybe they were in some secret town be experimented on. But no, just a bunch a people with a strange belief. What I like most about this book is the great insight on this cult. We see rules, their way of life and how they do things. I loved Ruby but felt at times that she needed to push herself more. I, for one, am super happy that she met Ford. I know without a doubt that without his influence she would of stayed there.Ford is a great character that brings refreshment to the book. He slowly opens Ruby's eyes to what is actually going on. He did his best to be her friend and guide her out. I am a little disappointed that as the reader we don't get much questions answered. I am still wondering about a few things.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I wasn't sure how I'd feel about this book, rating it was quite a hard choice. And so I was sure that writing the review for this was going to be a challenge as well. So I'm positive it won't do it much justice. It's hard to explain for my feelings for this one. I haven't read the author's previous novel, Candor, but after hearing much praise about that one, I'll read it.You'd think that since it's dystopian, it would be set in the future, but that's not the case here. The book is actually set in present-day in which the characters live in a cult-like society where they are enslaved to a man for 200 years and have to harvest Water to avoid his beatings. Not that I mind.Drought's a slow book, but not in the way that it felt boring. The world takes time to develop, as the characters situation does not impact a lot of fast pacing with their belief that their leader will come back if they wait and endure. I didn't feel much depth in the characters, even as a certain shocking scene happens almost to the end book and I felt for their situation and even worried for them and got angry at a few of some of their actions. The ending offers some hope for the main character, Ruby, even as it's an open one. I even felt relief for her. Still, a lot of questions were left unanswered, (like why things were the way they are), so that may bother some.I'm not sure if there is going to be a sequel for Drought, but if it does, hopefully the unanswered questions will actually be answered. But in the end, I don't regret reading this.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I've been sitting and trying to write this review for about the last 20 minutes, and I still don't know exactly how to express my feeling about this book. Disappointment reigns supreme right now, but I also have an appreciation for the writing in the book so I'm at war with myself. Be warned that the following review may be rather long and rambling. I'm going to try to explain everything I'm currently feeling.First off, Drought definitely drew me in with its unique premise. I liked that Ruby and her community were trapped in an early-nineteenth century lifestyle because it gave the book an interesting twist. Their clothes were simple, their homes were simple, it was their lives that definitely weren't. Darwin West is their captor and he demands that they collect the water that heals and renews. He doesn't know the secret of how it is obtained, only that these people are the only ones who can collect it. All of that was pretty intriguing and led to a nicely paced plot.What really threw me off was how flat all the characters felt to me. There is no emotion in the book nearly at all, expect for what Ruby feels towards Ford. These oppressed people all seem so okay with their stake in life that it drove me nuts! I wanted to scream at them, and sadly I slightly felt like they deserved their place in life if they weren't going to try to change things. It was only Ruby, who was deemed a rebel, who wanted anything different than what was given to her in life. Looking back I suppose this was important to the overall story at times, but it made for a very dry read.My other issue was simply that there are so many questions unanswered at the end of the book. I'll admit that the real reason I actually read so fervently to the end wasn't because I was invested in the story or the characters, but because I really wanted to find out what was going on with Ruby's blood and the mysterious Otto. Unfortunately I wasn't given very much more information and I left the story behind feeling very dissatisfied. There isn't any hint toward a sequel either, so I'm kind of at a loss as to what actually is going on with these people in the story.Long story short, I did like the writing and the setting of the story. It was interesting enough to keep me reading at the beginning. However the attitude and the cult mentality of the characters was dry very quickly, and I found myself lost in terms of understanding exactly what was going on wit them. Overall I'd say that I enjoyed this story enough to recommend it as a library read. I always say you might enjoy it more than I did!
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Ruby and the Congregation spend their time collecting water under the direction of watchful and cruel Darwin West and his Overseers for the mysterious Visitor. In the woods, where they work and live, time has stood still and the Congregation lives exactly as it did in 1812 - in sparse one room cabins with no running water or electricity. They are waiting for Otto, their leader, to return to the woods and save them. Routinely beaten and starved, the Congregation toils through one of the driest summers upstate New York has ever seen to gather their quota of water each day; water that Ruby turns into Water. This summer a new Overseer begins working for Darwin, he is different from the other Overseers and much like Ruby is stuck in a situation he has very little control over. As they get to know each other, Ruby starts to see that maybe she does have some say in how she lives her own life.Drought is a book that raises a lot of questions. And it was difficult at times to read because it didn't give many answers. Every chapter brought more questions and few answers. My biggest and most persistent question was, why did the members of the Congregation allow themselves to be enslaved? Because that's what they are: Darwin's slaves - he decides how much Water they are required to collect every day, if they get to eat, and who will be beaten when quotas are not met. Ruby, because of her special blood, is enslaved twice - once to Darwin and once to the Congregation because they rely on her to change the Water which slows down their aging and heals them. You would think that after a reasonable amount of time had passed the Congregation would find some way of rising up against the Overseers and escaping the forest. I have to believe that it was their faith and belief that they would be saved, by Otto, from their predicament that kept them going day after day.Another threads in the story include choice and faith. Throughout her life, Ruby has shouldered a great responsibility. She's not exactly happy with her life, one that has been mapped out for her, but she doesn't know any other way of living. And even though she dreams of escape, she repeatedly makes the choice to stay. Then she meets Ford, the newest Overseer. He makes Ruby question her life in the forest and her faith in Otto. The romance part of their relationship, was odd to me and it felt like Ford was interested in Ruby because she was the only person on the mountain (and in the forest) that appeared to be close to his age. But, I found their conversations to be really interesting. Through Ford, Ruby gets to see that the world outside, off the mountain, has gone on, that her life could be so much more than it is. I kept wanting her to take the next step and mount some sort of rebellion, to stand up to her mother and the Congregation at least, even if she couldn't stand up to Darwin.I felt that the world Ms. Bachorz created was downright scary. I would not want to stumble across this patch of forest. The Congregation's isolation was believable and frightening and reminiscent of some of the communities we hear about on the news from time to time. Many of the characters were hard to like, especially Darwin. He is definitely in a class of his own when it comes to his cruelty and (extreme lack of) people skills. Ruby's mother, Sula, was another character I had a hard time liking, mainly because I blame her for the Congregation's isolation. Even Ruby had her moments when I wanted to reach through the pages and have a heart to heart with her, so I could tell her to start listening to her instincts, that it was okay that she was questioning her beliefs. I found myself really routing for her and wanting a good outcome for her. I wanted to know more about the other members of the Congregation and wished that they had been fleshed out a bit more.Overall, I did enjoy reading Drought, despite not getting answers and all the open questions. The ending was very open ended, that's all I'll say about that because I don't want to spoil it, and it left me with a bit of hope. I would recommend Drought to readers who like their stories dark and their heroines conflicted.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Drought has been on the edges of my reading radar for a while. For probably three or four months before its release, I had it on my to read list because I was interested in what appeared to be a fascinating dystopian world with a clear water conservation/environmentalism message. When January rolled around and I couldn't find the book (and I saw its lukewarm reviews) I decided to let it drop off my to read list and focus on other things. When "Dystopian February" rolled around, and drought was finally coming to my local library, I thought it was time to check it out.Drought takes places in a somewhat flimsily-constructed dystopian world where Ruby and her people, known as the Congregation, are enslaved to a man named Darwin and must spend their days hunting and harvesting water for fear of Darwin's brutal beatings. Darwin's underlings, the Overseers, keep a close eye on Ruby and her people, to be sure nothing seems to go amiss. Ruby longs to be free, but when a forbidden romance between Ruby and an Overseer blossoms, the need for freedom becomes even more intense.Drought was a surprisingly dull read with a flimsy setting, one-dimensional characters and an awkward romance. When I first started reading Drought, I was surprised at the lack of detail and setting, as well as explanation for why things are the way they are in this world. I spent most of the book wanting to know why the heck these people are harvesting water and how or why they were enslaved in the first place. This is never explained.Bachorz's writing is fairly average, but with some good ideas. The only problem is that the ideas seem to frequently lack direction and get jumbled on top of each other, almost as if Bachorz was trying to get some many out at once, but didn't fully develop any of them.I was also surprised at the fact that Drought doesn't have that much of an overt dystopian feel or environmentalism themes, which I found disappointing. And though Ruby wants freedom and struggles against her situation, I never fully got a sense of "fight the power!" which is a typical theme behind dystopian novels.With the seemingly endless cascade of new teen dystopian novels being released, it's easy to find something better than Drought. I honestly thought this book was incredibly disappointing and just weak. There are some good ideas here, but they need more time to mature.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Drought is one of the first stand-alone novels I've read in a long time. At least, it seems to be a stand-alone novel for now. I know I say this with quite a lot of books, but I loved it. From start to finish, it was a beautiful, heartfelt ride. I felt I could connect with Ruby, the protagonist, through out most of the events. Even the bad guy - Darwin West - had cruelty that could be imagined. It's not the type that's impossible in this world, if you get my meaning. I really liked the plot of the story. It was difficult to comprehend at first. But after about 75 pages, I fully understood what was going on. Ruby's blood is sacred, just like her father's blood. Mixed with water, drops of her blood can heal any wound and save lives. Her father, Otto, is the Congregant's - the people who work for the horrible Darwin West, the people who gather water with pewter spoons from the leaves and plants and fill their cups to meet his impossible quotas - savior. They all wait for him to come and take them away from Darwin West. But they've been waiting for 200 years (the Water, water mixed with Ruby's blood, lengthens their lives dramatically), and Ruby is tired of waiting. Tired of listening to her mother and the Congregants who tell her they must wait and endure until Otto returns. Thoughts of rebellion and freedom fill Ruby's head. The new Overseer only makes it worse. But she can't leave them - she is the Congregants' Leader. They need her. But would they help her in return? Do they even love her for who she is, not her blood? Ruby learns the truth in the most horrifying way. Pam Bachorz came up with an amazing storyline for Drought. You will definitely enjoy Ruby's unique voice and have no sympathy for Darwin West. All in all, Drought is one book you just can't miss, and ironically, it will leave you thirsting for more. The cover fits really well with the story. The woods and Ruby's face on the cover blend in to suggest Ruby is part of the woods, it's where she has lived all her life. The color of her eye adds a bright contrast against the dark cover and, to me, signifies water, the thing they need most.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Pam Bachorz weaves a rich and dark tale about a teenaged girl who is stuck between a rock and a hard place. At times, I had more questions than answers while reading - and even at the end, I think drought leaves the readers wanting to find out what happens next and what had happened before to lead up to Ruby's world as she knew it.The great thing about drought is, once I let go of what I know, I really got into the flow of Ruby's wretched world. Hers was a simple though horrible life: Collect enough Water to get fed and avoid the whip. A village enslaved. Not necessarily true, but I imagined that they dressed like Pilgrims - don't ask me why - I just did! It was only when Ruby interacts with Ford when I realized how behind-the-times Ruby was, how deeply Ms. Bachorz wove us into the village and hid us from the big, ugly truth. A truth the Overseers obviously knew, and the question that burns through my mind is WHY.I felt we never got a complete picture of all the characters except Ruby. Granted, we see events unfold through Ruby's eyes - but usually I thought there'd still be a little more insight to the other characters present. Maybe Ruby wasn't too observant - maybe I haven't given drought enough thought yet - but there is not a whole lot about the other characters from my initial impression. Ruby's mom tries to impress upon Ruby and the Congregation that waiting for salvation is their best option and escape in any way is not safe, but how did she reach such a conclusion and what happens when salvation never comes - or escape is possible? What makes Darwin tick - and how does he sleep each night after his monstrous actions? How does Ford get recruited to the Overseers - and is he leading Ruby into a trap by enticing her to escape?The ending of drought definitely left me both triumphant yet horrified at how things panned out for Ruby, Ford, the Overseers, and the Congregation. Definitely did not see any of it coming! I doubt that there would be a sequel, although one would be most welcome for all the questions that I have!drought will satisfy any thirst for a new dystopian YA read. Mysterious, shocking, bittersweet - an excellent combination to keep readers thirsting to learn more about the world that Ms. Bachorz has created.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Weird story, but compelling, much like Candor.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Before I start, I should mention that before reading Drought, I had an entirely different idea of what the book would actually be about. I was expecting a story about a dystopian society that involved lots of action and rebellion. That wasn’t exactly what entailed.Contrary to what I expected, Drought is kind of a slow book. That’s not to say that Drought is boring, it just takes its time developing the world that Ruby lives in. One of the best parts about this world-building is the cult-like society that Ruby lives in. The beliefs of the Congregation, interestingly enough, hold some parallels to religions today (the foremost of which is their belief that their savior, Otto, will come deliver them from their horrible situation if they “sustain” themselves). I found these parallels pretty interesting, and I enjoyed picking them out of the story (the best one? The bad guy’s name is Darwin).I found the daily life of the Congregation a bit tedious to read about, but Pam Bachorz added bits of excitement at the right moments. I enjoyed how Ruby questioned the beliefs of her people—she spoke to the rebel in me—but I found the responses of the Congregation to be absolutely absurd. Their unwillingness to take action against the people that caused them suffering was incredibly frustrating, which made it feel like an accurate portrayal of a cult society.Drought had its ups and downs for me, but I don’t regret reading it—it’s an interesting insight into the cult lifestyle with a supernatural twist. The last chapter, especially, was heartbreaking. I’d recommend it to anyone interested in an emotional read that showcases the struggles of trying to escape a binding community.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5For the past 200 years, Ruby and her congregation have lived under the unwielding hands of Darwin West and the Overseers, harvesting the supposedly special Water from their woods. Few people, however, know that the Water’s miraculous properties stem not from the actual liquid collected from plants by their pewter cups and spoons, but by Ruby’s blood, for she is the daughter of Otto, the man who gave birth to their congregation, whom everyone believes will eventually return to save them.When Ruby meets Ford, a kind Overseer who treats her like an actual, special human being, Ruby is hard-pressed to fight the desire to escape into the modern world with his help. But her escape means danger for everyone else she cares about. Will she risk everything for a slim chance at making things better, or should she protect everyone by holding on to faith in Otto’s return?I’m not quite sure what it is about this book that just didn’t do it for me. I like Pam Bachorz’s writing style, so direct, and haunting in its sparseness. I thought the premise was interesting. But somehow, when combined, DROUGHT became a slow-moving slog of a read that did not evoke my sympathies and actually made me very frustrated.I generally like when I as the reader get to figure out what’s going on with the book’s world, but in DROUGHT, it took dozens and dozens of pages before I was able to even begin piecing together what exactly is going on, what I should focus on as the main conflict, and what I should think will occur. First, it’s hard to pinpoint what genre this book falls under. Is it dystopian? Ruby doesn’t live in a pleasant world, certainly, but something extraordinary has to be occurring for the same group of people to have lived 200 years. Is it fantasy? For all intents and purposes, the book is set in our world: upstate New York, to be exact, and while the woods that Ruby lives in seems like a distortion of early nineteenth-century American life, apparently outside their bubble lies the modern world. Is it magical realism? That’s how I think I’d best describe this book, although besides for the Water’s properties I don’t think there’s anything magical at all.Confusing premise aside, I was willing to give this book a try, until I realized that absolutely nothing is happening in the story. In the first 150 or so pages, Ruby worries about her mother’s selflessness, secretly heals her mother, worries about the dying elderly Ellie, ponders the legitimacy of their faith in Otto’s salvation, and gets frustrated about their predicament but doesn’t do anything. Really, I’m almost impressed by how much inaction occurs.Interspersed with the lack of action is a kind of negligent behavior that, honestly, I am shocked would occur in a community that’s supposedly as strict as Ruby’s. Not to cultivate my masochistic stance or anything, but this sort of inhumane slavery for two centuries straight would drive the humanity out of anyone. And yet I was honestly surprised at the amount of compassion the characters showed. If Darwin West has been basically keeping me just under starvation for two centuries, and then offered me a buffet breakfast, are you kidding me? I’d be running people over to get to the food. It may sound horrifying, but it’s the truth: people have been driven to heartless measures for much, much less. Similarly, if Water is so hard to find, especially during this drought summer in which the book is set, I would hoard my water with a vengeance, and would never EVER allow a single drop of water to carelessly spill. Argh! The amount of carelessly spilled drops bugged me to no end. The society seems to decree Water a sacred resource, which makes the characters’ nonchalant attitude towards it troublingly inconsistent with the world they’re in.Due to logical inconsistencies and a snail-like plot, I was unable to connect with anything about this book. And I should probably figure out what type of book this is before I’d dare recommend it to anyone. Just…argh.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I thought this book was going to be a dystopia but I think it actually takes place in today’s world but the community Ruby lives in is almost like a cult community. The “slaves” are all followers of Otto, a man whose blood keeps them all alive hundreds of years later and can heal horrific wounds. He disappeared one day and his followers are left praying for his return even after they are enslaved by Darwin and used to harvest the water that he believes is what keeps them all alive. The reason they remind me of a cult is that while there are some members like Ruby who want to fight for their freedom and go look for Otto, most believe them must stay and endure while waiting for him to return. It is hard to believe the horrors these people are willing to endure in order to remain true to their faith that Otto will one day return to free them.I was surprised by how intriguing this book was when there was not really any character I enjoyed. Ruby despite the living conditions was kind of a spoiled brat who did not really think her actions through and was rather self centered in some of her behaviors. She also sulked like a child when she did not get her way. At first I dismissed this thinking she was a teenager only to realize that although she was the youngest of the congregation she was 200 years old.Her mother, Sula, was also difficult to like. I suppose it was her faith but although she was portrayed as the strong leader who took the beatings for the others the way she treated Ruby was pretty horrific. You almost have to wonder if she loved Ruby for herself or for her blood, it’s abilities and what she represented. Her actions at the end of the book made me cringe and I honestly do not blame Ruby for her reaction.I even found Ford hard to like. I understand this whole way of life is foreign to him but he did not seem to even have a clue that although life is horrible for Ruby in the congregation this is the only life she has known, these are her family and her friends. He cannot expect her to throw all that away for him without strong doubts.Still despite these issues I had with the characters I found the world they lived in morbidly fascinating and the ending did come as a surprise to me.
Book preview
Drought - Pam Bachorz
Author
Chapter 1
I wish it would rain.
On rainy days, we don’t have to work in the woods, gathering water until our backs ache and our fingers tremble around our spoons. The Overseers would still find a reason to prod us—maybe the kitchen needs to be scrubbed, or their dock wants fixing. But there would be no quotas, and no woods.
If it rained, there would be water, dripping from every leaf and stem. Our cups would be full to the brim, work finished early, even. Darwin West would be so happy he’d give us dinner.
But it hasn’t rained all summer, or most of the spring. For all of these two hundred years, none of us has seen a drought like this. We suffer more every day, each day worse than the last, all of them endured in the dry woods.
I am very tired of the woods. I have been collecting water from them for exactly two hundred years—we all have, slaves to Darwin West and his Overseers.
We’ll be lucky to find five drops today, Ruby,
Mother grumbles.
There was no breakfast this morning, not even a mouthful of oatmeal. Darwin said we hadn’t worked hard enough for it the day before. Mother will be grumbling all day.
Otto will provide.
My answer is an automatic one, the same answer she gives me when I worry. But she is right. It is already hot, though it’s barely past sunrise. Road dust swirls around our skirts with every step. I wonder if there’s even five drops of water waiting in all the woods.
Nothing in our lives has been easy this summer.
Half our strong ones gone,
Mother says.
Not gone. They’re just … digging,
I remind her. Like Darwin told them to.
What good are all those holes? Now we’re not all harvesting,
she says.
I can’t answer her. None of us know why some of the Congregants have been digging for nearly two weeks. The holes dot the edges of the woods where we harvest and line the road that connects our cabins and the cisterns. They don’t do anything but catch a foot, twist an ankle.
Nobody asks why—asking why means a licking. Darwin gives our men dull shovels each morning and assigns the meanest Overseers to watch them. They dig until they are told to stop.
Maybe he seeks water,
I say.
A hundred shallow wells? No,
she answers.
Soon we reach the clearing where the cisterns sit: five long tanks, raised on rusted metal legs, with spigots near the bottom of each. Our harvests always start and end here. It is on the edge of miles and miles of woods; they all belong to Darwin West—he owns every rock, stick, and person on the entire mountain.
Mother says there are cities farther south in New York. They must be grown enormous by now,
she’s told me. My father said they were beyond imagination, even when I was small.
But I have never seen cities. My entire life has been trees, and leaves, and the tiny lake that our cabins cluster around. It is so tiny that it does not even have a name. It’s just the Lake.
I’ve dreamed of cities—hazy half-imagined worlds that likely don’t resemble any true place. When I was small, I built them: streets and buildings made of twigs and mud, jammed with tiny pinecone people. They always had enough to eat, I liked to imagine. Nobody ever beat them.
We join the long line of Congregants waiting to get their pewter cups and spoons.
On days like today, I dream of chopping this off,
Mother says. She twists her thick hair up on top of her head and easily secures it with a single pin. The knot of hair looks heavy enough to tip over her short, slight frame. But Mother is far too strong for that. She is made of boldness and sinew.
Will you do mine?
I ask. Our hair is the same color—like oak leaves in November—but mine curls in a thousand different directions. It squirms away every time I try to capture it.
Two hundred years and you still can’t tie up your hair,
Mother says, but she sounds a little pleased. She does not have to reach up to do my hair; we are the same kind of small, though I am soft where she is hard. I feel a few gentle tugs, a light scrape against my scalp, and then the relief of air on the back of my neck. The sun won’t barely touch it; our skin is browner than burned bread from all the days in the woods.
Birds sing from the trees and swoop over our heads, darting from one tree to another. Their song and screeches follow us all day, the only witnesses to our secret existence.
The line is moving now. Once each Congregant gets a cup and a spoon, they stand to the side, waiting for Darwin to decide on the day’s quota.
The water can be gathered only from living leaves—scraped from ferns, or the bottom of flower petals—and it can touch only pewter. As for the people who can do that work? Only those blessed by Otto.
Or at least that’s what Darwin—and most of the Congregation—thinks. Mother and the Congregation’s Elders know different. They protect my secret.
All know that I am Otto’s daughter, and that makes me holy. But only the Elders and Mother know all of it. They know I bring my own gift to the Congregation, a gift that must stay hidden.
Darwin is eating something that smells sweet and full of luscious fat. I can almost taste it, even though I stand twenty people away. Congregants can live a long time without food—once, they starved us for two weeks—but I think that only makes me love it more.
Long ago, before Otto, Mother fancied Darwin, and he fancied her. What drew her affection? Was it his height and muscles? Or perhaps the ice-blue eyes that are shaded, always, by a battered leather hat with a broad brim? None would be enough to turn my head. Perhaps whatever she loved left this brute long ago.
Still, his love for her, however twisted, hasn’t left him.
Four other Overseers stand around the clearing, their long guns ready, eyes always watching. If one of us tries to escape, they will shoot—and if those bullets miss us, more Overseers wait in the woods.
One last Overseer hands out cups. He is new and younger than the rest of them. Darwin has hired more Overseers this summer, as he works us harder and longer and deals out more beatings. I eye the coppery bristle on the new one’s head, so easy and cool. Perhaps Mother is right, and we should crop our hair—though it would be difficult without knives or scissors. Those are forbidden.
The new Overseer holds out the cup, but I fumble, and it falls to the ground. I bend, quickly, to pick it up—but he is there first.
Sorry about that,
he says, looking right at me. I look away fast, but not before I see his lips twitch with the smallest of smiles.
Overseers don’t apologize. Overseers don’t smile. Perhaps they haven’t told him that yet.
We straighten up at the same time, our heads nearly colliding. His fingers brush mine when I take the cup. A burning dances down my fingers, my hand, my arm … like the curling designs inked on his skin have crept down his arms to bite me. But it doesn’t feel like pain.
I shake my hand to get the feeling out of it. The drought has twisted my mind—all of our minds.
I go to find one of our elders, Ellie. She is standing at the edge of the clearing, in the shade. Ellie is stooped, and her face is drained of color. Her hair is only half braided, the rest of the yellow-white strands straggling down her back. Even her blue eyes seem cloudy, faded.
I stand next to her and squeeze her pinky finger with mine. It’s our old way of saying hello. Ellie is the closest thing to family that Mother and I have.
How are you feeling?
I ask.
I am better today,
she answers.
She lifts her lips in a shaky smile: a lie that she is fine. Her body shows me something different. I fear she is withering. The Water doesn’t make us last forever. Already nearly a dozen Congregants have withered—their bodies giving up, piece by piece, until they finally die.
Only a few months until the Visitor comes,
she says.
"The cisterns will be full, I say.
We’ll find a way."
The Visitor comes just once a year, when the leaves start to turn. He dresses all in white, driving an enormous beast of a truck. He takes away all the Water we’ve suffered to harvest.
And Darwin will do anything to make sure we’ve filled the cisterns in time.
Boone knocked on the last cistern before you got here,
Ellie says. He says it’s not nearly as full as it should be.
Boone is another Elder, once a blacksmith, still one of our strongest men.
He’s right about the cistern. I check it too, at night, when I make my secret visits.
Your quota today …,
Darwin announces in a loud voice. He takes another bite of his food, and every Congregant’s eyes trace the path of his sandwich to his lips. We wait while he chews.
Otto save us,
another Congregant mutters next to us.
Yesterday’s quota was a half cup and I barely met it. The plants are guarding their water in the drought, sucking it deep into their stems and pulp.
Darwin finally finishes chewing. His lips are shiny with grease. Today will be one full cup.
Ellie lets out a soft gasp. My eyes stray to the new Overseer. He is frowning at the ground. I wonder what he must think of Darwin … and of our following his whims.
That’s too much.
Mother steps to the front of the group so that she’s only a foot away from Darwin. The Overseer next to him levels his gun at her, but she does not seem to notice.
Mother is our Reverend. She leads us in worship while we wait for Otto to return. Otto, our savior, gave us his blood so that we could live longer. He passed that blood to my veins too, for he is my father.
But almost nobody knows about his blood.
I could make it two cups,
Darwin muses.
There’s a drought, and we swelter already.
Mother holds out her long skirts.
The Congregants wear simple, modest clothes, as if it is still 1812, the year Darwin West imprisoned us. Ellie says ladies used to change bits of their fashions all the time, and likely they still do. I wonder how different we look from modern women now.
Mother says our boots are as modern as any, though—thick, tall, yellow, made to keep us standing for long hours in the woods. The Overseers give us those, one pair every fall, before the first snow.
Make it a half cup, like yesterday,
Mother orders. I marvel at her boldness, even though I have seen it for so long. She is never afraid of Darwin West.
One cup, full to the brim. Now go.
Darwin pulls a heavy chain out of his pocket and coils it in his palm. Unless you want whippings instead of supper.
Supper will likely be oatmeal tanged by mold, or maybe some greenish bread and cheese. But we will work all day in hopes for it. If Mother speaks again, he might decide we won’t get dinner, no matter how much water we find.
Mother,
I say.
She lifts her chin for a moment … and drops it. Then she turns away from Darwin.
You heard him.
The Overseer near Ellie and me pokes my back with his gun. I straighten my shoulders and follow Ellie into the trees, close enough to catch her if she stumbles.
You hole diggers, come get shovels!
Darwin shouts.
Mother comes behind us, and for a moment, I think we will get to walk into the woods together. But Darwin stops her. You go somewhere else, Mother Toad.
He doesn’t like family members working together. I make a small signal with my hand, waving her away. Go. Ellie will be fine. I will take care of her.
Mother pauses, still staring at Ellie, then finally takes slow, heavy steps away. She pushes aside branches as she goes. They swish together as soon as she passes, and soon I can’t see her faded red dress.
Darwin stays close to us. I wait to make sure Ellie can kneel, then I crouch by a clump of goldenrod and pull out my spoon. There is no water on the plant, but Darwin is watching, so I run my spoon along every stem, holding my cup underneath. Nothing drips into it. I move to the next plant, a berry bush. The animals have left a few morsels buried in the thickest thorns. My mouth pricks.
I pull my eyes away fast, not wanting Darwin to notice the berries. As soon as he’s gone, I’ll return to them. Half will be for me. Half will be for Ellie.
Ellie is on her knees, ten paces from me. Her arm shakes as she runs her spoon along some ferns. Water spills off the tip of the leaves, but it doesn’t look like it all lands in her cup.
Darwin is watching her, his fingers opening and closing around his dread chain. Ellie nearly drops her cup and he takes a step closer.
No. I will not let him hurt her.
I stand and bring my foot down on the ground, hard. Sticks break under my boot.
It works. He is watching me now.
Pretending not to feel his eyes on me, I take a berry and toss it into my mouth. The sweetness explodes and I can’t help savoring it, even as I know pain is coming.
The chain whips against my stomach. The blow knocks me to my knees, but I clamp my lips shut, crushing the berry against the roof of my mouth. I will at least win this taste.
No stealing food,
he roars.
If I were Mother, I would answer him with strong words. I would say it’s not his food—it belongs to the forest. But I just stare at his feet. The chain dangles over the toe of his boot, swaying a little as if it is a living thing.
Darwin breathes in deeply, like he’s trying to take all the air before I steal that too.
Do it again and I’ll beat you until you bleed,
he says.
I pick up my spoon and my cup and start working. Water plink-plops into my cup.
I’m not afraid, at least for now. He wouldn’t hurt me badly in the middle of the day. There is still work to be done.
Darwin saves the real beatings for sunset, after we’ve put the water in the cisterns. Sometimes he hurts us, and sometimes he doesn’t—the worst part is never knowing what will happen. Darwin might shrug if we don’t give him what he wants. Or he might lift the chain.
When he does hurt us, we have all night to heal. That’s enough time to get us ready for the next day’s harvest, unless he breaks bones. Those take two or three days to knit back together, if we’ve had Communion each week.
There’s enough water in my cup now that I can imagine it’s a mite heavier. I can feel Darwin’s eyes on my neck. I draw in deep breaths as I work, trying to ease away the feeling of his stare.
Darwin leans over me and peers into my cup. Should have made you Toads collect two cups,
he says. I brace for a slap, but he reaches past me into the bush and plucks every last berry. He crams them into his mouth. Harvest well, Toad.
That is what they call us—toads. I guess that’s because we can survive their beatings and starvings, like the toads that sleep in the mud all winter here. Or maybe we are that ugly to them.
He shuffles away, down the hill. I imagine he’ll sit in the shade with his favorite Overseers, playing cards and eating the lunch we never get.
As soon as he’s gone, Ellie stops working. She sits on the leaves, the cup in both her hands. I check to make sure we’re alone, then hurry over to her.
The bottom of her cup is barely wet.
Hard for an old woman to keep up,
she says.
You don’t have to apologize.
I hold my cup over hers and pour. Everything I’ve collected is hers now.
Ellie puts her hand out to stop me, but she’s too late. There wasn’t much to pour. I won’t have you beat,
she whispers.
There’s enough water out here for both of us,
I tell her, even though I’m not sure.
She grips my hand, fingers quaking. Her skin feels soft. Don’t you give your life up for anybody, girl. You’ve barely begun.
A soft laugh escapes me; we both look down the hill. But there’s no sign of an Overseer. I’ve already lived enough life for four girls, every day the same,
I whisper. And there’s no change in sight.
The Water slows our aging—or growth, for me. It’s taken this long to grow from a baby to this.
You’re a woman now,
Ellie says. We all see it.
She sounds so proud—but of what? And what new wonder does womanhood bring me?
I ask.
The Elders … we want to talk to you about just that,
she says.
Curiosity flickers in me, like a leaf trembling in the wind. What?
I ask. What do the Elders want?
Ellie wags one finger gently. Wait for the next council meeting.
Irritation washes over me—and then I feel terrible, small. What has Ellie earned from me but love, and gratitude?
Sit and rest a bit,
I tell her. There’s enough water for me to find and share.
I help her ease against a tree trunk, but then there’s the crackle of sticks underfoot; someone is coming. Ellie grips her cup tight and I spring away from her, my heart pounding. I scramble to a patch of wildflowers and run my spoon under their petals, praying some dew still dangles there.
A shadow hovers over me.
Your cup is empty,
Mother says.
I gave it to Ellie.
As will I.
Mother takes light steps to Ellie and pours everything she’s collected into Ellie’s cup.
She fishes a cloth from her pocket and wipes it over Ellie’s forehead. The older woman’s eyes are fluttering shut.
You should go,
I tell Mother. I’ll take care of Ellie.
We are all helping Ellie today,
she says, nodding her head toward the cup. It’s more than half full. There’s no way Mother could have collected so much. I am not the only Congregant who risked a gift to Ellie today.
Who?
I ask.
Hope. Asa. And others,
Mother says.
That is when I see Darwin peering at her through the leaves. I purse my lips and make an imitation of a robin’s call. It’s our signal, one we’ve used for a very long time.
She does not look; that is a waste of time. He has seen us do something we shouldn’t have, and it will not be ignored. The only question is what the punishment will be.
No matter what,
Mother whispers, so quiet I can barely hear her, protect yourself.
Rebellion burns my guts. She doesn’t know I took a lashing for Ellie this morning, already. I don’t have to sit by anymore and let her take all the pain. I am strong too—stronger than her now that I’m grown, I think.
But I nod, because we have argued about this since I was as tall as her shoulder. She says it’s her job to protect me, and my job to sustain the Congregation. But I say it’s my turn to help her.
And then Darwin is standing by us, grinning, like he’s happy to have caught us doing something wrong. When he looks at the cup, and then Ellie, his head nods.
Knew you were up to no good. You helped her.
He aims a thick finger at me.
We are never supposed to help one another. I start to nod my head yes, but Mother lays a heavy hand on the top of my head: a reminder.
I did it all.
Mother stands up and gives him a smile that dares him.
He takes the bait and deals her a hard slap. Mother’s head jerks to the side, but she does not cry out.
I bite the inside of my lip to stop from screaming.
His hand hovers near her head, ready to strike again.
You Toads don’t have to suffer,
he says.
Then release us,
Mother snaps.
Darwin’s hand sinks back to his side. He drops to his knees and grabs Mother’s hand.
She tries to pull her hand back, as if his skin burns hers. But his grip is too tight.
I’d still have you, Sula Prosser,
Darwin says.
A groan escapes me, but neither seems to notice. He has asked her, again and again, and I feel sickening shame for his desperation. I hate it more than his brutality.
Once, before Otto followed my grandfather out of the woods, before we were slaves, Darwin asked my mother the same question. That time she said yes.
But Otto changed everything. Darwin West did not win my mother, after all—but he did win the Water, and all of our lives.
Bile rises in my throat as I imagine the life we’d have under his roof. Cruelty does not change; he would only find new ways to hurt us.
But at least the Congregation would be free.
I wait for Otto,
Mother replies.
It is what she always says.
Darwin hitches up his pants and pulls out his chain.
There is still work to be done,
I murmur. It’s not near sunset.
His hand falls slowly, the weight of the chain pulling it down, maybe. Darwin looks up at the sky. That savior of yours is never coming.
You’ll see,
Mother says quietly.
I press my lips together and say a secret, silent prayer to Otto in my mind.
Please stop him. I pray. Don’t let him hurt her.
Otto must be listening, for Darwin slides the chain back in his pocket. You’d better get your lazy Toads working.
There’s no way they’ll fill a cup today,
Mother snarls.
Then maybe you’ll feel my kiss at sunset … if you’re lucky.
He pats the chain in his pocket. A shiver down my back turns the day as cold as January.
Darwin’s eyes turn to me. You, little Toad. Find some other place, away from Mama Toad.
I can’t help looking back at Ellie. He wraps a beefy hand around my arm and yanks me to my feet. Go now, or there’s no mercy for your mother.
There’s no use arguing. I find a patch of woods shaded by brown-edged leaves and spend the day doing the same as always. Gathering water … and praying there will be enough for Mother to escape a sunset beating.
Chapter 2
When the sun slips below the trees, I creep back to Ellie. She is so still that I race the last few steps to her. A few drops splash from my cup onto my hand, but I do not slow.
Ellie? Ellie. Ellie!
I call. Harvest is done for the day.
But she does not stir. Is her chest moving? I cannot tell.
I set down my cup, nestling it by a branch so it doesn’t tip. Then I put both hands on her shoulders and shake, gently. Her braids swing against her thin shirtwaist. She is as limp as the doll she fashioned for me, long ago, out of scraps and scavenged buttons.
Wake!
I tell her, loud enough to make the birds scatter from the tree overhead.
Ellie’s eyelids flutter. Cool relief steadies my breath.
It’s even darker now. I’ll need to get her down the hill to the cisterns quickly. We need both our cups to be counted, if we want dinner tonight.
The cup tucked beside her is full to the brim. How many visited her today? How many would bring half-empty cups because of what they did for her?
You are a good girl,
Ellie says. She struggles to her feet and reaches for the cup.
I’ll carry both,
I say, offering her an elbow to grasp.
Even though the color has fled from her lips and she hunches to one side, Ellie’s grip is strong. We’d best hurry,
she says.
When we reach the cisterns, the clearing is crowded with exhausted Congregants and Overseers inspecting the day’s harvest. We step to the back of the line, behind the second-to-last cistern. By now we should have four cisterns full, filling the last. But the drought has made that impossible.
The cisterns sit directly across the road from the Common House, where we gather for food—when we get it—and Sunday Services. Trees edge the clearing around the cisterns, always growing a little closer, it seems, wanting the Water for themselves.
Nothing can come out from the cisterns unless Darwin unlocks the spigots at the bottom. All that’s open are the valves on top. We can only add, never steal.
My first memory is coming here at night, with Mother.
Quiet,
she warned every night. He must never find us here.
She meant Darwin, of course.
I pulled out handfuls of the lush grass that grows under the cisterns, even in winter, while Mother climbed to the top of a cistern and muttered a fast prayer to Otto. She counted out loud: One, two, three drops,
then hurried down.
She always carried that vial of Otto’s blood so carefully, even as we hurried back to our cabin. All the vials are empty now, but she saves them in a wooden box beneath her bed, still careful to keep them whole.
Now it’s my blood that drips into the water inside the cisterns. But since this year’s drought—since Darwin found a new depth to his cruelty—I’ve had to come to the cisterns alone while Mother heals. She takes other people’s share of the beatings, as much as Darwin will allow.
We are near the front of the line now. The new Overseer is standing by the cistern, his long gun set against his shoulder, only loosely holding it. His sweaty shirt clings to his body, hinting at the muscles underneath.
He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flitting from person to person. For only a second we stare at each other. He looks away first.
I draw in a deep breath and crane my neck to see whether the others have filled their cups. Boone stands a few feet ahead of us, hands empty—he spent the day shoveling. He is talking to Hope, once my playmate, now a grown woman and Elder. She holds her cup carefully with both hands. I pray that means it holds enough, after giving to Ellie.
But Jonah Pelling, directly in front of us, has a cup so empty that I see its pewter sides. He tilts it to the side a bit, careless, and looks about him with far too much energy.
Anger flashes over me, hot and merciless. I do not care how dry the woods are. He should have found a way, somehow, like the rest of us. Those Pellings always find a way to rest their feet and make the rest of