Being Magdalene (11 page)

FATHER DIDN’T MENTION ELDER
Stephen’s warning to the people about Abraham and Talitha. Mother stayed in bed. Zillah and I did our own chores and tried our best to keep the household running the way she would want.

School started again. Zillah got dressed without fuss. She didn’t talk and she moved as if chains of lead weighed her down. Watching her and knowing I was powerless to help weighed my own soul down.

I was dreading school too. I feared my friends would have been ordered to shun me. But when break came they grabbed my hands and together we hurried to our tree. I asked, ‘Are you allowed to talk to me?’

Carmel grinned. ‘The parents said I must make up my own mind after searching my soul and praying.’

‘Mine are really worried,’ Jemimah said. ‘They told me to be careful. Ever since Uncle Jedidiah took his family out they’ve been jumpy. It’s like they’re not so certain about the Rule and they look worried all the time.’

‘I’m certain about it.’ I shouldn’t have said that. Too late now.

‘What sort of certain?’ Carmel asked — then, when I didn’t answer, she gave me a shove. ‘Say it. We won’t tell.’

I knew that, but I knew too how Elder Stephen could twist things and somehow get the answers he wanted. ‘I don’t believe in it either.’

Jemimah sighed. ‘I don’t want to believe it. I hope it’s not true. I wish I could talk to Neriah. I don’t want her to be stuck for ever in hell.’

On Wednesday, Mother was still in bed so Zillah and I stayed home from the Circle of Fellowship. I was glad. The women would talk about what Elder Stephen had said. They’d keep glancing at us and there would be pity in their eyes.

Thursday was Zillah’s eighth birthday. Luke and I made the day as special for her as we could. He didn’t go with Father to the hire centre in the afternoon and instead took her to the playground. I made her favourite meal for dinner — schnitzel, mashed potatoes and peas. Even though it was summer and hot, I made her favourite dessert. It was a roly-poly pudding dripping with syrup.

The day was special too because Mother was well enough to get out of bed and eat at the table with us. She looked worn and ill, and she didn’t say a word for the entire meal, but she ate a little food and actually smiled twice. We were heartened.

That night, when we were in bed, Zillah said, ‘Do you think Elder Stephen has made Rachel ill too?’

I sat hugging my knees. ‘No. Saul said they’d talk about it. I think that will help her. She will try hard to be well because of Hope and the baby.’

‘When will the doctor cut her open?’ Zillah asked. ‘Will it hurt? I don’t want her to be hurt.’

The Rule said pain cleansed the soul of sin. Elder Stephen preached about when babies got born.
It is written that women shall bring forth their children in pain. Seek not to go against the word of the Lord
. I answered my sister. ‘Saul won’t let her be hurt. He will look after her.’ I knew my words were true. Saul would never let Rachel suffer if there were ways of preventing it.

School again in the morning. Zillah sat up in bed but didn’t make any move to get dressed. I went to her, put my arms around her and just held her. Gradually, the tension left her body, she sighed and said, ‘I’ll never go to a real school, will I, Magdalene?’

‘Not unless things change.’ But they wouldn’t change that much.

‘Or I run away.’ She pulled back to look at me, her head on one side in a question.

I winced. I hadn’t been able to think about it properly. I wouldn’t let myself imagine us running away and leaving Luke, and never seeing him, Abraham, Rachel or Hope again. Our parents too. But I could imagine only too clearly Zillah all alone and trying to find her way among worldly people. It terrified me. ‘Zillah darling, every day I pray for the strength to go with you if it should come to that.’

We got dressed and went to the kitchen. Mother wasn’t there, and Luke and Father were eating toast. Neither of them had a clue how to cook bacon or scramble an egg. Zillah did the eggs and I cooked the bacon.

Father said grace, probably for the second time that morning. He would never begin eating anything without first thanking the Lord for providing the food.

Luke said, ‘And thank you, sisters.’

We went to school. We came home to find Mother still in bed. We made a lunch of cold meat and salad, and I wished we could spend the afternoon at the hire centre with Father and Luke, but wishes were as useless as prayers.

As we were finishing the meal, Zillah asked, ‘Luke, do you fix things in the workshop? How do you keep your fingernails clean? Abraham’s are always —’

‘That will do, Zillah,’ our father said. ‘Your brother’s activities need not concern you.’

Luke shot a quick look at her. ‘With your permission, Father, I will answer my sister’s question.’ But he didn’t wait for Father to give his permission. ‘I look things up on the computer for the men when they need parts to fix the machines and then I order them. I buy the milk from the dairy for afternoon tea. I am now very good at making tea for ten thirsty men — and I wash and dry the cups afterwards!’

Zillah clapped her hands. ‘Is it fun using the computer, Luke?’

‘That is enough,’ Father said. ‘Come, my son.’ He walked from the room.

Zillah and I did the chores — dishes, washing,
ironing, cleaning. We picked the ripe tomatoes from the garden. We prepared the evening meal. We took Mother drinks and thin slices of fruit. She ate one piece of apple and nibbled a sliver of peach but that was all.

‘Will she die?’ Zillah asked. ‘Really die, not pretend die? Will she be damned? I don’t want her to go to hell, Magdalene.’

I sat down at the table and pulled out a chair for her. I wanted her to know she could ask me things and I’d answer as well as I could. I wanted her to know I loved her better than the Rule. ‘I’m worried about her too. But I think she’s sick like I was when I hurt my hands. I think she’ll get better. Father won’t let her die.’

That earned me a fixed stare before she said, ‘But he lets her stay in bed. That doctor said you had to stay in bed but Father made you go to school and Mother hasn’t even been to the doctor.’ She jumped up from the table and stomped outside. ‘Let’s go to the park, Magdalene. Nobody’s going to say we can’t.’

So we went to the park and we played on every single thing. We slid and swung and climbed and turned in dizzy circles. Then we ran all the way home.

Mother hadn’t missed us. We cooked the dinner so that when Father came home we were once again his obedient, godly, modest daughters.

Mother didn’t get up for dinner. She ate half of the meal we took her.

‘She is getting better,’ Father said when he saw the
tray I brought back from the bedroom.

He prayed for her recovery at evening prayers. ‘Lord, we beg you in your infinite mercy to send health and strength to your daughter Naomi.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

He would do better to talk to her about Abraham and about Elder Stephen but he wouldn’t do it. He was a godly man of the Faith and it was his duty to trust and obey.

Before he shut himself away in his study for the rest of the evening he said, ‘Daughters, your brother flies to Auckland in the morning. Abraham requires his assistance.’

I grabbed Zillah’s hand, squeezing it to warn her not to ask to go too. ‘What time? Father, may we go to the airport to say goodbye?’

‘You will stay with your mother.’ He left the room.

Zillah threw herself at Luke. ‘Promise you’ll come back! You have to promise.’

He patted her back. ‘You and your promises! Yes, I promise I’ll come back.’

‘But why are you going, Luke?’ I asked. ‘What does Abraham want you to do?’

He checked to make sure the door was closed, then pulled a letter from his pocket. ‘Abraham sent this to the dairy so Father wouldn’t read it. They gave it to me when I picked up the milk. It’s a bit different from the one our brother sent to him.’

I smoothed the paper so Zillah and I could read it together. Our brother’s impatient handwriting scrawled its way across the page.

Zillah didn’t even notice his warning. All she noticed was
library
. She asked, ‘Will you go, Luke? To the library?’

That would be breaking the Rule — smashing it to fragments.

‘Yes, I’ll go to the library, Zillah. I want to read what people say about the Bible. I want to find out what they say about the Lord.’ He spoke so calmly, even though he knew what he was planning to do was a dreadful, wicked sin. He was watching me, a small smile on his face. ‘Magdalene?’

I didn’t say anything for ages. Too many ideas were
bashing against each other in my head, so in the end all I said was, ‘Why?’ I thought some more. ‘You want to know for a reason, don’t you? What is the reason, Luke?’

Our brother quietly and calmly sent yet another shock wave through our lives. ‘There are places you can go to learn about the Lord. I want to go to one of those when I’m old enough. They’re like universities. I want to study at one of those. I want to find out what’s true.’

He would leave us. Our parents would lose a fourth child even if the Elders didn’t banish him.

Zillah said, ‘You’ve told Abraham, haven’t you? He knows you want to go to the library. He knows why and he’s helping you, isn’t he, Luke?’

‘Yes. When Daniel told the Elders he wanted to be a doctor, that’s when I started thinking about what I wanted to do. That’s when I began studying the Bible and really trying to understand it.’ He pulled a face. ‘I always tried to talk to Abraham about bits I didn’t understand. That’s why he arranged for me to use the computer at his work. You can find out a lot with a computer, but it’s not enough.’

All I could say was, ‘When do you leave? For Auckland, I mean.’

‘Early. Before you get up.’

Zillah didn’t say another word. Tears rolled down her face. Luke took out his handkerchief. ‘I know, little sister. I know.’ He wiped her face. ‘I’ll send you a postcard.’

He wouldn’t be able to write anything real on it.

To me, he said, ‘He’s right about being careful, sis.
Elder Stephen’s not going to give up on trying to punish us. He’ll be watching for any tiny slip-up.’

And he would jump on it and blow it up into a major transgression. I wished Luke wasn’t going. Two weeks was such a long time.

LUKE WAS GONE. THE
house felt empty and frightening. Mother stayed in bed. Father shut himself in the study.

We set about doing the usual Saturday morning chores. ‘We should wash all the sheets,’ Zillah said.

But Mother was still lying in hers. For one shocking moment, I imagined myself ripping them out from under her. ‘We’ll leave her. She’ll be cross whatever we do. We’ve got enough work anyway.’

My sister’s mouth fell open. ‘Magdalene! You’re really, really angry!’

I flopped down in a chair, stuck my elbows on the table and scrubbed my eyes with my knuckles. ‘Yeah. How ungodly and unseemly and —’

‘Iniquitous?’ she asked.

‘Yeah. I’ll burn in hell for sure.’

Zillah leaned against me. ‘Can I come too?’

‘Sure.’ I hugged my arm around her. ‘We’ll give that old Satan a really hard time.’ I got to my feet. ‘Let’s do the beds together.’

We worked all day. Father drove us to the supermarket to buy the groceries for the week. We’d never done it without Mother before, but he waited in the car as he always did.

Mother still didn’t get up. We carried food and drink to her, and she ate everything we put on the tray.

Zillah said, ‘She’s better. She should get up and help us.’

But she didn’t and Father seemed content to let her stay in bed for ever.

That night, I went to bed at the same time as Zillah. I was tired and I didn’t want to spend the evening by myself with the mending basket.

We were woken in the dark of the morning by Mother shouting at us and pulling our bedclothes off. ‘Get up! It is Sunday. Wicked girls — lying in bed when you should be preparing the food.’

She flew out the door, her braid whipping behind her. Zillah opened her mouth, but I held up my hand. ‘Don’t say it! I know it’s not fair. I know we’ve worked and worked. I know we’re not wicked.’

She hurled herself at me, clinging as if for her life, but she didn’t say anything. I stroked her head, wishing for a different life, or at least that I could say the words Luke had given me, but I couldn’t feel the truth of them — the Lord wasn’t being my strength or my salvation.

I found other words. ‘Zillah, you’re a good girl. It’s not our fault Mother’s like she is. It’s Elder Stephen’s fault. He’s making mischief because he’s still angry about Rebecca.’

‘I
hate
Elder Stephen!’

‘Yes. But we’d better get dressed.’ I sought for something to give her comfort. ‘Let’s not wear our petticoats. Elder Stephen would have a fit if he knew.’

She gave me a weary smile.

Out in the kitchen, Mother had the pantry doors flung wide and her head was flicking from side to side as she scanned the shelves. ‘Did you not think to get in the supplies for today? How can you be so thoughtless!’ She strode to the table, where she jabbed her finger on a piece of paper. ‘There! How are we meant to make all that without the ingredients? Answer me that!’

I read where she pointed.
Couscous salad. Coleslaw. Banana bread
.

We couldn’t answer her, but right then Father entered the room. We stared at him. He never appeared at this time on worship mornings. He went to Mother and put his hands on her shoulders. ‘My dear wife, be easy in your heart. The people know you have been unwell. There is always plenty of food. Our contribution will not be missed. Go and rest some more.’ He steered her from the kitchen.

Zillah and I collapsed on to chairs. So many things were going round in my head — probably my sister’s too. I turned to look at her. Her shoulders were slumped and her bottom lip was trembling. I started talking. ‘Thank you for working so hard while Mother’s been in bed. I’d have been really stuck without you. You’re good and kind and —’

Father’s voice broke into my words. ‘That is true, Zillah. For both of you, my dear daughters. I thank
you both for your hard work. You are good and godly girls.’

I struggled to understand. He never said things like that. And he hadn’t scolded me for shortening my words.

‘Go back to bed. I will call you when it is time to prepare for worship.’

‘But Father, Elder Stephen …’ He would punish us. He would say we should have prepared the food if our Mother could not.

Father said, ‘Of course he will not punish you. You are good girls. He has no reason to do so.’ With that, he left the room.

Into the silence, Zillah whispered, ‘He thinks we’re godly.’

I said, ‘He hopes we are. But he knows we’re good, and he knows we’ve been working hard.’ It was difficult to believe, though. ‘How about I make hot chocolates and we’ll drink them in bed.’ That was forbidden.

She leapt up and headed for the fridge. ‘We’ll put
two
teaspoons of chocolate in.’ She grinned at me. ‘We’re not
very
good, are we, Magdalene?’

I set the pot on the stove. ‘I think the nice Lord likes us to be a little bit bad. He likes it when we have fun.’ I hoped.

It was raining when Father woke us again. Mother was twitchy in the car on the way to worship. She started talking about salvation and how we had to keep
our feet on the path. Father let her speak for some moments, but then he said, ‘My dear wife, be at peace. Have faith and trust in the wisdom and compassion of the Lord. Our children have good hearts. The Lord has them in his hand.’

For once I was deeply glad of the Rule.
Women must obey their husbands
. Our mother would not speak further now that Father had told her not to.

Carmel and Jemimah walked up to me when we got out of the car, both of them huddling under the one umbrella. ‘Good morning, Sister Magdalene,’ Jemimah said. ‘The Lord in His mercy has sent the rain today.’

‘Do you wish to share our umbrella, Sister Magdalene?’ Carmel asked.

The two of them looked at me, their faces solemn, but their eyes were full of mischief.

‘Thank you, sisters,’ I said. ‘But I will share this one with Zillah.’

The four of us walked into the temple — four good and godly girls.

When it came time to dance, Mother sat with Rachel. It was plain to see that she had no energy for joining in.

I didn’t enjoy it either. Only a few of the people looked into my face when they took my hand in the chain dances. Only those few smiled at me. When Brother Ebenezer took my hand, he whispered, ‘Courage, Magdalene. All will be well, I promise you.’

I wanted to believe him.

All during the singing I dreaded what Elder
Stephen would preach about. Zillah hadn’t given me a word to listen for, but she squeezed my hand when he said
iniquity
.

Another good choice. His sermon was all about the iniquity of the world, the iniquity of those who chose a worldly life, the iniquity of those who allowed worldliness into their hearts.

We counted seventeen
iniquities
and I refused to believe any of them applied to Abraham and Talitha.

We didn’t get the chance to speak to Rachel until the lunch break. She smiled when we hurried to her. ‘I am well, my sisters. I have told Mother and Father we want you all to come to our house for dinner this evening.’

Unlike Mother, she seemed to be at peace. Saul too looked relaxed and not bowed down with worry the way Father was. I was desperate to know what they thought about Elder Stephen and his strange behaviour. I wouldn’t ask. I knew what they’d say. ‘Have faith, dear child.’ I’d just get angry and I didn’t want to be angry with Rachel. Instead, I thought about how good it would be not to cook dinner that night.