I am Rebecca Page 12

  ‘Terrific job!’ I said. ‘Do you want to do another one?’

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘I want to play engines with Abraham and Luke.’

  Magdalene said, ‘I’ll do it.’ She took Zillah to the bedroom to change into clothes already stained with grease. Our little sister was showing a love of machinery to equal Abraham’s. My heart ached for her.

  In the afternoon, the whole family except Father carried the food to Rachel’s house. She saw us coming and flew out the door to greet us. Father wouldn’t have thought our excitement seemly, but Mother didn’t try to calm us. Rachel hugged us all, leaving me till last. I got the longest hug. ‘I miss you. I miss you so much,’ she whispered.

  But she was happy, and I truly rejoiced to see how proud Saul was to have her as his wife. They both had a look of shining newness about them.

  I was truly happy for her — for both of them.

  I’d never felt so alone.

  Twenty-five

  The Rule

  The Rule will be followed in every particular. Behaviour will be modest and seemly. Respect the Lord by never shortening your words.

  ON SUNDAY, THERE WAS A NEW SET of girls to work with Talitha and me in the nursery. I saw the pity in their faces whenever they looked at us.

  At lunchtime, Rachel ran over from the temple. ‘Rebecca! Father says we can have lunch together tomorrow. At my house!’

  Some of the ache in my heart eased. It would be so good to truly talk to her again.

  Talitha came into the bathroom to change a baby when I was busy with Sister Judith’s son Shiloh. ‘Talitha, do you mind all this?’ I gestured at the nursery, the babies.

  She laid the baby — Damaris’s son — on the changing table, giving a quick glance to check we were alone. ‘I find Sunday worship difficult, Rebecca. Elder Stephen is a holy and godly man, but when he preaches I feel the weight of his disappointment on my heart. I feel I’ve let him down.’ She sighed. ‘I try to walk the path to salvation, but I know I’m a sinner.’

  I couldn’t help laughing. ‘You couldn’t be a sinner if you tried, Talitha!’

  She said, ‘I still worship the Lord. I thank Him for the many gifts in my life. A beautiful day. A happy child. The gratitude of a mother I helped when she was ill. Many things. I find it a reverent way to worship.’

  She refastened the snaps of the baby’s leggings and took him back to Damaris, leaving me staring after her. Did she know she’d just given me a precious gift? Did she know her words would help me live my own life without bitterness? It would take time and effort for me to become accepting like she was, but it helped so much to have a path to follow, a way to live in the world.

  THE NEXT DAY, Mother let me leave early to go to Rachel’s. I broke the Rule by running all the way. I couldn’t wait to see her, to talk and laugh the way we’d always done. She met me on the road. ‘I could not wait!’ She tucked her arm in mine. ‘I have so much to tell you.’

  ‘And so much you can’t tell me,’ I teased her, laughing when she blushed. ‘I want to hear all about Queenstown. Did you see snow?’

  She giggled. ‘We had a snow fight! It was such fun, Rebecca. We probably broke the Rule a million times but—’

  ‘There was nobody to see you,’ I finished for her.

  She gave a little skip. ‘It is good to be home, though. It is such a pleasure …’ She broke off, conscious I would never have what she had.

  I gave her arm a shake. ‘Rachel, please don’t be scared to say things. I want to hear about your life. I want to hear about your happiness. Please believe me! Now tell me, what is it that gives you such pleasure?’

  ‘To have my own house. To prepare food for my husband.’ She watched me closely as she talked, checking for tears, no doubt.

  All I said was, ‘I’m truly glad. But Rachel, for goodness sake — d’you think I want you to be like Kezia?’

  After that, things were easy again between us, though we knew our relationship would never be the same as it had been.

  I would grow accustomed.

  From time to time that afternoon I watched as her face became dreamy. It had always been Saul for her, right from the beginning.

  BY THE END OF AUGUST, I felt the shape of my future becoming clearer. Like Talitha, I had started watching the mothers when they brought their children to the nursery on Sundays. There were always some who looked worn and weary, and we would quietly say to them, ‘I will come next week to look after the little ones for a while.’

  Always, those mothers were grateful. I grew more confident of being able to lead a useful life as an unmarried woman — of being able to find the strength to tell Father I wouldn’t accept Ira Strong for my husband.

  The Wednesday Circle of Fellowship meetings were hard to bear, though. The married women expected me to join them, but I didn’t belong and at the least sound of a disturbance from the children I would excuse myself and escape to play with them.

  Friday lunchtime became my time with Rachel. Those few hours were the most precious of the week. After the first couple of times, Mother made a point of asking, ‘Is your sister well?’

  It took me that long to work out she was really asking if there was any sign Rachel could be pregnant. I knew that’s what Rachel hoped for herself.

  ‘It is strange,’ she told me, ‘I thought being a wife would occupy my entire life. But with Saul away at work all day there is too much time with nothing to do.’

  Her house was immaculate, the garden tidy.

  ‘I really hope—’

  ‘What do the other girls do?’ I asked. ‘Tirzah, Drusilla and Abigail, I mean. Do they feel the same?’

  She shrugged. ‘We do not get the chance to talk on Sundays, not about anything important.’

  My heart went out to her. She was upset and I could see she felt bad about it. She had everything she knew I’d wanted for myself. ‘Rachel, you could ask them here for lunch. You could really talk to them if you did that.’

  She stared at me as if I was a messenger from the Lord. ‘That is a brilliant idea!’ She leaned against me. ‘Thank you, my dearest sister.’

  ‘I won’t say anything to Mother,’ I promised her.

  Rachel pulled a face. ‘No. She would just tell me to enjoy my chance to be idle.’

  I jumped up. ‘Come on. We’re going for a walk. A long one where we can look out at the sea from a high hill. You’ll need a coat. We’ll most likely get rained on.’

  We walked, we got wet, and I thought it did her good to be out of her house.

  ‘Do you ever wish for a phone?’ she asked as we strode back down the twisting road.

  ‘Yes! Now you’ve left home, I do. I didn’t before. But it would be such a comfort to be able to speak to you every day.’ I couldn’t say more or I’d cry.

  She took my hand and quickened her steps, and we ended up running and laughing in the rain.

  ‘Rachel — do you feel free? Away from Father, I mean.’

  She slowed to a walk and imitated his voice, ‘My daughter, did you uphold the Rule this day? Yes, to start with it was strange. But now I find it is not difficult to uphold the Rule. I want to be a good and godly wife to Saul. He is a good man. I am so lucky, Rebecca.’

  I walked home in a thoughtful mood. My sister spoke the truth about upholding the Rule. I couldn’t recall her shortening her words even once.

  MY SISTER WAS MUCH HAPPIER when I went to her house the following week. ‘Talking with the other girls has made all the difference,’ she told me. ‘We have had lunch together twice this week, and they have been feeling exactly the same as me.’

  ‘Have you come up with ideas? About how to use the time?’ It was a pity they couldn’t work helping other women the way Talitha and I did — but the Elders would hear about it and put an end to it. Elder Stephen would preach about how it was the duty of the newly wed woman to stay home, stay calm and prepare to receive the gift of a child in order to fulfil her destiny.

  She giggled. ‘Actually
, we have! Tirzah thinks she is probably pregnant. We have all started knitting and sewing for her.’

  I stared at my sister, suddenly suspicious. ‘You are as well? Tell me! Have you got my niece or nephew in there?’ I put a careful hand on her stomach.

  She blushed. ‘I do not know. But I have not been able to eat breakfast for a couple of days now. And I am so sore here.’ She gestured at her breasts. ‘Do not say anything to Mother. Not yet.’

  When I returned home, I spoke before Mother could ask me anything. ‘Rachel is quite well, Mother.’ I decided to distract her thoughts. ‘She finds time heavy on her hands, though. She is used to being busy. She says it is very strange to just have Saul to look after.’

  As we’d guessed she would, Mother said, ‘Goodness me! Tell her to enjoy being lazy while she can. Such a time will never come again.’

  Had Mother ever been lonely? Had she wished for somebody to talk to? Although Father was a kind husband, he would never have talked to her just to pass the time of day. The Rule was the Rule and Mother’s duty was to obey it in every particular.

  If I didn’t marry, I would have to live in my parents’ house until they were called to the Lord. How odd it would be with just the three of us. I didn’t allow myself to imagine Mother becoming a companion to me. It was best not to give in to such an impossible dream — I’d never be able to talk to her the way Rachel and I had talked.

  Twenty-six

  The Rule

  The Leader speaks the word of the Lord to the people. The Leader’s word is the word of the Lord and must be obeyed. Eternal damnation awaits those who disobey the word of the Lord.

  ON A COOL SPRING EVENING in September, Rachel and Saul came to our house for dinner and to tell us all about the baby. Mother wept with joy. Magdalene’s eyes shone at the thought of becoming an aunt. Zillah said, ‘I want a baby too.’

  Abraham high-fived Saul and kissed Rachel’s cheek. For once, Father didn’t growl at him for unseemly behaviour. Luke said all the right things, and shut his mouth on the questions I could see were burning in his mind. I too wanted answers about pregnancy and birth. How much did Rachel herself know, and was she worried she’d get sick the way Mother had when Zillah was born?

  None of us raised difficult questions, and the evening was a happy one. Father’s prayers were full of thanks for the gift the Lord had bestowed on Rachel and Saul.

  The baby would be born at the end of March. Mother brought out the crib she’d used for all of us. ‘I will wash all of the lining to make it fresh for the little one.’

  Rachel said, ‘Please may I take it as it is, Mother? I will so enjoy getting it ready.’

  Perhaps Mother remembered my comment about Rachel finding time heavy on her hands, because she said, ‘Yes, of course.’

  Magdalene touched the gathered fabric lining. ‘This is so lovely. I had forgotten.’

  It was fabric like the one I’d chosen for my wedding petticoat.

  Mother stroked her hand over it. ‘This was my wedding gown.’

  ‘You were allowed patterned fabric?’ I shouldn’t have asked — she looked uncomfortable.

  Father said, ‘The Rule was very lax at that time. Rachel, you should replace that with the plain material from your own wedding dress.’

  But she wasn’t his to command any longer, and Saul said, ‘I think our baby will like to sleep in something pretty.’

  Father was completely taken aback. He frowned, but then he managed to collect himself. ‘I apologise. Rachel, you will of course do as your husband asks. But I would urge you both to let the Rule guide you in all things.’

  Saul had stood up to Father, but had he done so to show Father my sister wasn’t under his authority now? Or did he do it because he really believed it wasn’t breaking the Rule for a baby to sleep in something decorative — something pretty?

  I wanted to talk to Rachel about Mother’s wedding dress too. It proved the teachings of the Rule could be changed, and had been changed. Who had done that, and why? Would the Lord send us one teaching only to change it later? I felt bad for thinking about such things and longed for my sister to help me make sense of it all.

  I also hoped Father wouldn’t feel it was his duty to report the patterned bassinette lining to Elder Stephen.

  I turned my thoughts to the baby. What would it be, and what name would they give it? Would Rachel dare name her child after the brother or sister we’d lost? Daniel for a boy and Miriam for a girl. Or maybe even Esther.

  It wouldn’t be fair to put the idea to her but, knowing my sister, she’d probably already thought of it.

  TWO WEEKS LATER I came home after a day of helping Sister Thomasina with her three little ones to find Mother unusually flustered and, just as unusually, with none of the children around.

  ‘Mother, are you well? Is something wrong?’

  She swished her hands at me. ‘No, of course nothing is wrong. Go to your Father, Rebecca.’

  ‘He is home? Already?’ It was only 5.30. He always came home punctually at 6.10.

  ‘He has news for you. Go. Do not keep him waiting any longer.’

  I sat down at the kitchen table. No. Please Lord, let it not be about Ira.

  ‘Does he want me to marry Ira? Is that it?’

  ‘Ira? Goodness me, of course not! That young man will never get another chance at marriage, surely you understand that?’ But she wouldn’t look at me.

  ‘Mother, please — what is it? You are not happy about it, are you?’

  She pulled out a smile. ‘Yes, my daughter, I am. I am just surprised, that is all. It is so unexpected, but the workings of the Lord are not ours to question. Go to your Father. He will tell you all you need to know.’

  It was plain I’d get nothing more from her. I pushed myself to my feet, suddenly angry. I should have understood about Ira? How could I when nobody told me anything — when nobody ever answered a single question?

  I knocked on the study door.

  ‘Come in, Rebecca. Sit down.’

  Why? What’s happened?

  Father rubbed his hands over his face.

  Fear chilled me. ‘Father, what is it? Have I done something wrong?’

  He rested his hands on his desk. ‘No, your behaviour is always in accordance with the Rule. You are a good daughter, a godly person.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  ‘My beloved child, Elder Stephen came to see me today. The Lord has directed him to take you as his wife.’

  I couldn’t have heard right. Elder Stephen? Surely he meant Ira? Even he would be better.

  I sat there, shaking my head. I felt sick and pressed my hands into my stomach.

  ‘No. I can’t,’ I said at last. ‘Not Elder Stephen.’ He was our leader. He was an old man. He terrified me with impossible questions.

  Father sighed. ‘It is, of course, a great honour he has chosen you.’ I just kept shaking my head, so he went on, ‘But I understand your reaction. He is seventy-six. You are sixteen.’

  I felt a trickle of hope. ‘What did you tell him? Did you refuse permission?’

  For a moment, he didn’t answer, but he looked as if he was preparing for a great battle. My hope faded. ‘Rebecca, my dear daughter, you do not understand. The Lord speaks through Elder Stephen. If you refuse to marry him, you will be refusing the will of the Lord.’

  To do that was to refuse salvation. It would mean I’d be cast out — damned and dead.

  ‘No, please, no. I can’t. Not Elder Stephen.’ I was afraid of him. I could never be at ease in his presence. He asked his questions and frowned at my answers without ever telling me why. I’d never be able to tell him my true thoughts. I would need to be on my guard every second of every day. And he was old — sixty years older than me.

  My father stood up and walked around his desk to sit in the chair next to mine — Rachel’s chair. ‘You must marry him. Rebecca, I have lost two children to worldliness and damnation. I do not want to lose a third. Think of your immortal soul. I b
eg you not to put it in danger by refusing to obey the will of the Lord.’

  I hugged my arms around my body and asked my own terrible question. ‘Is it truly the will of the Lord?’

  Now my father would tell me to fall on my knees. He would pray and pray and pray for me to be pardoned for doubting.

  He surprised me. ‘Rebecca, we are called the Children of the Faith. Faith is about continuing to believe. It is about knowing the Lord speaks to us through our leader. We follow the will of the Lord as revealed through our leader. He is the means by which we will reach salvation. We cannot question faith. All we can do is continue to believe.’

  I couldn’t believe. Not this. ‘But what if the leader is wrong? What if this is just something Elder Stephen wants? What if it is not the will of the Lord?’

  Even that didn’t make my father pray for me. It didn’t make him angry. ‘That is the nature of faith. We have to accept Elder Stephen’s word, and we have to accept that his word is the word of the Lord. That is our faith.’

  I saw there was no hope for me. My immortal soul would achieve salvation only if I obeyed. I longed to be able to speak my true thoughts. I didn’t try. They would distress my father greatly.

  He said, ‘Rebecca, good things will come of this. You will be a wife. It is a hard thing for a girl to face a future without a husband or children.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘The Lord will bless you with children. Elder Stephen assures me he is still able to become a father.’

  I stared at him, trying to understand, trying to believe. ‘But I don’t even know what that means, how it happens.’

  His voice was gentle, sad even. ‘Your husband will tell you. This marriage is a blessing from the Lord. I will pray for you to accept that. Go now and help your mother.’

  I got to my feet but didn’t go to the kitchen to help Mother, though there was no conscious thought in my mind about disobeying. I just walked until I saw with surprise my sister running down her driveway, her hands outstretched and fear in her face.