The Believer (25 page)

Two weeks later Elizabeth was summoned from her work duty to Sister Rosellen's room at the Gathering Family house. Clouds the night before had dropped several inches of powdery snow on the village, but the morning had brought a brilliant blue sky and crisp, yet bracing air. The brethren had already shoveled clear paths between the buildings, but the fields and garden plots looked pristine as they sparkled in the sunlight, untouched by the feet of man or animal.

Elizabeth wanted to grab up a handful of the snow to feel its coldness in her mouth, but she restrained herself for fear Sister Ruth and Sister Melva who walked on either side of her would think it frolicsome. While they hadn't revealed the reason Elizabeth was being summoned, she doubted it could be good. Even Sister Melva had a deep-seated frown between her eyes. Elizabeth had the unsettling feeling she was being escorted to a prison cell.

Actually, the last two weeks had been the best Elizabeth had spent at the village. She had been assigned to work with Sister Lettie in preparing and labeling the dried roots, barks, and herbs for the sister's medical potions. Sister Melva had been released to other duties since she had no interest in the healing sciences, and even though Melva was kind spirited, it had been a relief to be free of her company and the constant drone of Shaker teachings for a few hours each day. Instead Elizabeth eagerly listened to Sister Lettie explain the curative properties of the different roots and herbs.

Sister Lettie had joined with the Shakers in the state of New York before the turn of the century. Except for the gray hair that peeked out from under her cap and the brown age spots on her hands, Elizabeth might have guessed her much younger than the sixty-five years she proudly claimed. She was small of stature, barely reaching the top of Elizabeth's shoulder, but she seemed to radiate energy and her step was quick. She had little patience with those who came to her with superficial wounds or complaints, but unending patience for those she deemed in real need of her treatment.

The first day they worked together she talked of her path to the Shakers. "My situation was much as yours, Sister Elizabeth. I had no husband nor did I desire one when I sought shelter at Watervliet. My father was a yarb doctor, and after he died, I had no prospects. The Shakers welcomed me and my knowledge of roots and allowed me to continue to learn. That in itself was a gift and one not many young women are given even in this day and age. The Ministry inquired into sending me out to a medical school, but none would allow a woman"

Sister Lettie made a face and threw out her hands as she continued. "Backward. Very backward of those of the world. I offered to masquerade as a man" Sister Lettie laughed a little. "That idea shocked the Ministry a tad, I must say. I had to make confession of my rashness in Meeting the next Sunday. But I could have pulled it off. I've never been very fair of face, and I could have cut my hair in the Shaker style for men and put on Shaker pants. It would have worked"

"But aren't you a little small for anyone to believe you a man?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yea, you have a point:" Sister Lettie tilted her head and gave Elizabeth the eye. "You on the other hand are tall as many men, but your face:" She clicked her tongue and shook her head with a sigh. "Way too pretty even with your hair all stuffed away under your cap. It appears we'll have to continue on as we've been doing. Never fear. An attentive person can learn much by watching others. My father shared his knowledge freely with me before he died, and there was a sister in Watervliet who knew much about the healing powers of roots and barks'

"But how do you come to be here at Harmony Hill?" Elizabeth asked. Sister Lettie didn't mind questions. Questions were the avenue to learning, she said.

"Some years ago the sister here who had a gift for mixing medicines crossed over the great divide somewhat unexpectedly and without training a new sister to carry on her work, and so they had need of someone. Since I had trained several sisters in the art of physic medicines at Watervliet, I was able to leave them without worry. I had always had a desire to see the west:"

"Have you shared your healing gift with sisters here?" Elizabeth looked up from pounding the ginseng root. It was much valued, so she was careful not to let even a speck of the powder escape the bowl.

I don't think it a healing gift. More a gift of learning. Perhaps a gift of observing to see what works best. Several of our sisters have learned from me, but none have shown the hunger to learn more that I always felt. I have suggested training one of the brethren, but the Ministry say that wouldn't be seemly. Perhaps a doctor will join our Society here and add his knowledge to ours. That would be a true blessing from Mother Ann' Sister Lettie looked heavenward as if entreating Mother Ann to hurry the blessing. She looked back at Elizabeth. "Or perhaps you are the one who has been sent to us with the hunger to learn. I hear it in your questions"

"I doubt that could be;' Elizabeth said before she thought. She felt so comfortable with Sister Lettie that she often forgot to speak the proper answers.

"Why is that, Sister?"

Elizabeth hesitated and Sister Lettie went on. "Don't fret. What you say to me stays with me. It is my way. And there are no hidden eyes peering down on us here. I insist it be so in order for those in need of my treatment to feel free to speak of their health complaints"

Elizabeth let out her breath. "I cannot feel the peace here that I see in your face. I don't think I am meant to be a Shaker'

Sister Lettie touched Elizabeth's arm. "Give yourself time, Sister Elizabeth. The Spirit takes longer to grow in some than in others. And while it's growing, we'll keep learning:" She turned to look at her jars on the shelf. "Now what root did you say your mother had you dig to treat her lung ailment?"

Elizabeth had almost believed it could be true when Sister Lettie said it. She had almost believed that she could learn to be a Shaker, that she could forget the ties to Hannah and Payton and become a sister to them in the Shaker way. That she could mash down her need to be her own person and conform to the Believer's way. That she might no longer feel the deep regret at facing the prospect of never having a baby grow within her own womb. Instead she would learn to listen to the Shaker teachings without questioning their truth. She would no longer think about how the young brother had looked at her and how the touch of his hand had awakened feelings inside her that went against all the Shaker tenets.

But then she would see Payton or Hannah on the walkways and want to run after them to put her arms around them. Or she would hear Elder Joseph mention Ethan's name at meeting and hardly dare breathe for fear she might miss one word the elder spoke of him.

He and Brother Issachar had been gone for weeks, and instead of forgetting him as she should, she found herself thinking of him more and more. Her spirit was still far from the Shaker way.

So far away that now Elizabeth feared Sister Ruth had called the meeting with the eldress to accuse Elizabeth of having a wrong spirit within her. Sister Melva's worried peeks over at Elizabeth as she did her best to stretch her shorter stride to match Ruth's and Elizabeth's seemed to promise something unpleasant ahead.

But when Elizabeth saw Sister Nola and Sister Josephine sitting with the eldress, she knew it was not her own contrary spirit in question but that of Hannah's. Sister Nola gave Elizabeth a small, worried smile and then went back to studying her clenched hands in her lap. Beside her, Sister Josephine, who had the duty of teaching the young sisters the basic knowledge of reading and writing and proper Shaker behavior, was red of face and very out of sorts as she glared at Elizabeth as though whatever wrong Hannah had done rested squarely on Elizabeth's shoulders.

"The child has a demon in her," Sister Josephine said as soon as Eldress Rosellen asked her to state the problem. Sister Josephine prided herself-as much as was proper for a Shaker sister-in always being in control of the young sisters in her care. Until now. Until Hannah. She crossed her arms in front of her ample bosom and stared at the other women gathered in the small room as if daring them to refute her words.

Elizabeth bit the inside of her lip to keep from speaking out against such a ridiculous assertion. Sister Melva had warned Elizabeth not to speak without permission, else she might be ushered out of the meeting. She didn't want that to happen. Especially now that she knew Hannah was the problem.

Sister Nola peeked over at Elizabeth with an apologetic look before she said, "Nay, Sister Josephine. She is but a child."

"Demons are no respecters of age," Sister Josephine said. "Are there not demonized children in the Scripture? One can look at her and see she's not a normal child. With that hair no cap can contain. And the things she says! No child of her age should know such things:" Her eyes widened.

Elizabeth could not stop herself from defending Hannah. "She has a free spirit:"

Sister Josephine glared at Elizabeth across the room. "A demon spirit"

Eldress Rosellen held up her hand. "Please, my sisters, we are not here to speak rashly at one another. It would be best if we start at the beginning of our problem and wait to speak when asked to do so:"

She turned a stern look on Elizabeth, who lowered her eyes to her hands in a show of obedience. In truth she was as tired as Hannah of bending her spirit to conform to the Shaker way. Still, it must be done. Something she would have to convince Hannah of if she were allowed to do so. With snow covering the ground and the possibility of bitter cold, it would not be a good time to be asked to leave the Shaker village.

She thought the Shakers were too kind to send them out of the village in such weather, but she couldn't be sure. She'd heard of others being asked to leave when their spirits seemed to be a disturbance to the family of Believers. Sister Ruth was always more than ready to tell her of such happenings. Elizabeth was fortunate Sister Ruth would not be the one sitting in final judgment on Hannah and her this day or they would surely be pushed out of the community of Believers before the setting of the sun.

Elizabeth peeked up at Sister Ruth, who was giving Sister Josephine a sympathetic look. She didn't let her eyes stay on Ruth but slid them over to Sister Melva, who looked very concerned, and at last to Sister Nola, who reached up with hands that trembled slightly to pull her cap down tighter over her own gray hair that was every bit as springy and uncontrollable as Hannah's. Elizabeth wanted to tell her that wayward hair had nothing to do with wayward spirits, but she kept quiet.

Dear Hannah. She had kept her promise not to run away again. Sadness had set heavy on her face every time Elizabeth had seen her in meeting, but Elizabeth had hardened her heart to it. Hannah had plentiful food to eat. She was warm. She even had shoes. And she was going to school. So what if Sister Josephine had little patience with Hannah's spirit? It was time Hannah learned to discipline that spirit. Even their father had said as much before he died.

Elizabeth had prayed that Hannah might settle into the Shaker life. Perhaps not so completely as Payton, but enough to keep out of trouble. She'd hoped perhaps her prayers were being answered, but the snow had pulled Hannah from her promise. Hannah loved snow. She cared not if her fingers and toes got so cold they were in danger of frostbite. She liked to lie in the snow and wave her arms and legs to make angels. She liked to run through the white fields to leave a trail of footprints behind her.

But most of all she loved to carefully climb up into a tree with snow-laden branches and, when Elizabeth passed underneath, shake down a shower of snow on her head. That is what she had done to Sister Josephine. Just thinking about how Hannah's laugh had echoed in the woods each time she caught her unaware made Elizabeth want to smile, but she mashed her lips tight together and didn't allow it to show.

Sister Nola seemed to agree that the sin was not so bad. "It was a childish prank, Sister Josephine. She meant you no harm"

"No harm?!" Sister Josephine shot an angry look at Sister Nola. "Let me put a handful of snow down the back of your dress and see if you think it is of no harm:"