Free Beyond Belief by Jenna Miscavige Hill Page A

apple. We’d weed and irrigate a hill, lay burlap on it, and then one kid would dig holes with a pickax while another would place the plants into the holes.
    Rock hauling to build stone walls was another arduous deck project. We would pick up rocks from a creek that ran nearby and put them into a pile, where another group of children would load them into a wheelbarrow and carry them to the site of the newest rock wall. Once the rocks were in place, yet another set of kids would lug around cement bags, and the older, more skilled kids would use the cement to secure the rocks in the wall.
    Because the buildings on the Ranch were older constructions, part of the renovation job of the Big House involved loading piles of roofing by hand or shoveling them into wheelbarrows and taking them from the Big House demolition/construction site to a huge hole, about a quarter of a mile away, where it was to be buried. The insulation itself was brittle, about an eighth of an inch thick, and would crack like cement if you hit it on a rock. It was a reddish, pinkish, brownish color. On at least one occasion, we were told that some inspectors were coming to the Ranch, and there was a big rush to hide the giant pile of roofing, which seemed a little odd, but we did it nonetheless.
    When we weren’t planting, constructing rock walls, or moving debris, we frequently pulled weeds to keep the Ranch safer in case of brushfires. The parched desert land around the Ranch was peppered with scrub that could easily catch fire during the dry summer months, and so, for fire protection, we were required to pull out weeds by their roots along several miles of the road. No matter how hot it was—temperatures were often well over 100 degrees—the older girls couldn’t wear tank tops or sports bras because they were too suggestive, which was confusing, because the boys were allowed to take their shirts off. We were always told to wear gloves, but none were ever provided, at least to me, so I, like many kids, had a thick layer of brown, chapped skin between my forefinger and my thumb from holding the rake.
    To cope with the heat, there was usually cold water, as well as the salt and potassium tablets, which were supposed to keep us hydrated. Kids would take four or five of each because none of us really knew how they were supposed to be taken. At least I didn’t know. So we just took them because we heard they helped prevent overheating. We were also allowed five-minute breaks, although they were few and far between.
    We were told that the labor was simply an exchange for being able to live on the Ranch. It was our chance to earn our way, rather than getting things for free. This was important because, as Scientology taught us, our supervisors were actually helping to prevent us from becoming criminals, since only criminals got things for free. Furthermore, this hard labor was training us how to have pride in production, to face tough situations head-on, and to confront MEST, an acronym that Scientology used for Matter, Energy, Space, and Time. MEST was the term that referred to physical objects as opposed to anything in the spiritual realm that had to do with nonphysical things, such as Thetans, thoughts, and intentions. Because we were doing physical labor, we were dealing with MEST, which would someday make us better Scientologists.
    Frequently during decks, the adults would wander from project to project to see how they were coming along. Sometimes, they would help out a little, but the projects really were primarily carried out and overseen by the children. In fact, the adults would push us to work harder, faster, and more thoroughly. We were controlling and handling the MEST in our way. Confronting it through physical labor was seen as therapeutic and helped to clear our heads, even though the projects and assignments were often incredibly labor intensive.
    Very rarely during my time at the Ranch did anyone ever step forward to say they thought the work