I am Rebecca Page 2

  He preached about obedience. ‘Obey the Rule, my children, because I make you this solemn promise: obedience will lead you to salvation. Remember always that I, your leader, bear the responsibility of passing on to you the will of the Lord. Trust in me as you trust in Him.’

  I thought he was a most holy man and well fit to carry the weight of our souls in his hands.

  The shock came after the fifteen Nelson families had welcomed us. Elder Stephen walked back to the lectern to make the usual community announcements — the names of the doctor and dentist we would go to, reports from the businesses, instructions to young men about what careers they would follow. He finished by saying, ‘I am pleased to announce a new venture. The organic farm is now producing sufficient eggs and chickens to sell at a stall at the Saturday market.’

  ‘Praise the Lord.’

  Our leader went on, ‘Your Elders have prayed about this and it has come to us that here is an opportunity to reach out to the world. Those working the stall have been carefully chosen. They will be the public face of our community. The world will look upon them and see the light of the Lord in their souls. In this way, we hope to encourage others to walk the path to salvation.’

  ‘Praise the Lord.’

  Elder Stephen’s eyes swept over his people. ‘With the guidance of the Lord, I have chosen for this sacred task Rebecca and Rachel Pilgrim, the twin daughters of Brother Caleb. Brother Gideon, you will accompany the girls, look after them and provide any help or counsel they may need.’

  The world around me went white, then dark. Rachel slumped against my shoulder. Mother’s hand shook my arm. ‘Breathe, daughters,’ she whispered. ‘In. Out. Do not make a scene.’

  Somehow, we managed to stay upright in our seats, but such a sacred task was too heavy a burden for us. We’d had so little worldly experience.

  Three

  The Rule

  The path to salvation is long and full of perils. Your Leader will guide your steps. It is a sin to turn away from his divinely inspired guidance.

  IT WOULD BE USELESS to say we were only thirteen and were too young to work in a worldly market. But each night, after our little sisters were asleep, Rachel and I talked.

  ‘We should tell Father we can’t do it,’ she said.

  ‘D’you want to be prayed over?’ That’s what would happen — we’d be on our knees on the wooden floor for ten minutes or half an hour depending on how serious Father thought our transgression was. The Lord had told Elder Stephen we were the best ones to do this sacred duty. To disobey him would be to disobey the Lord.

  Our state of mind wasn’t helped by our new school being ready for us to start on Wednesday.

  Father gave us our instructions at breakfast. ‘My children, you are to walk into town. Be there by 8.30. The community bus will take you to school. You will study all morning and return home at midday and help your mother. There will be no school in the afternoons.’

  Abraham gave a small cheer. Rachel and I found it hard to be excited about anything with the threat of Saturday speeding closer. We tied on our head scarves, helped the children get ready, and set off to the bus stop. I focused my thoughts on working to accept the Lord’s plan for me and my sister.

  At lunchtime, Mother asked, ‘How did school go? Did you enjoy your day? Are the lessons from America truly godly?’

  Luckily for us, Abraham spoke first. ‘The lessons are stink. The school is stink. It is old and cold. I want a proper teacher and proper lessons.’

  Mother looked upset, so I said, ‘It will take us a little while to adjust. It is very different from our old school.’

  But, in truth, neither Rachel nor I had been able to concentrate on a single lesson. Sister Leah, our supervisor, had been short with us. Our fear of the worldly market consumed us.

  SATURDAY ARRIVED. Gideon was to pick us up at the bottom of the hill.

  ‘We could run away,’ Rachel said, only half joking.

  I gripped her hand. ‘The first time will be the worst. We’ll get used to it.’ Please Lord, let it be so.

  Gideon laughed when he saw us. ‘Cheer up, girls! You will be fine. Climb on in. I will help you. Do not worry.’

  We were too nervous to answer him.

  At the market, he seemed to know where to go to set up our stall, and what to do when we got there. All around us, people were busy organising their own spaces. We saw vegetables, cakes, cheese, jams and honey and pickles for sale. Directly opposite us was a woman arranging jars of sweets on shelves.

  We helped Gideon set up our own stall. He had a tray with the money in it. ‘This is to get you started. You know how to give change?’

  It was a bit late to learn if we didn’t. We nodded.

  ‘Good. Here comes your first customer.’

  It was a man. Rachel handed him a dozen eggs while I took his money and gave him the change. Neither of us looked at him.

  A woman came next. ‘Organic eggs! Brilliant! A dozen, please.’

  I tried to look at her as I gave her the eggs, but one glance was enough. She was so worldly. It didn’t please the Lord for women to wear men’s clothing, and she had on trousers and a sort of plaid shirt. At least her face was bare of make-up.

  Beside me, Rachel whimpered. This was ghastly. I almost hoped Elder Stephen would come along just to see how disastrous his great idea was. But it wasn’t his idea — it was the Lord’s will. We would have to continue, we would have to endure.

  All morning, we served people with tattoos, men with long hair, women in revealing clothing. We heard swearing. We heard people blaspheming as if there was nothing wrong with taking the name of the Lord in vain. We kept our eyes lowered and we didn’t speak to the customers.

  During a lull, Gideon said, ‘Girls, the Lord will not be displeased if you smile at the people. Remember what your sacred task is. Their souls are crying out to be embraced by the love of the Lord.’

  ‘Thank you,’ we whispered.

  It was easier to look on their worldliness with his words in our minds. We began to see kindness in some of our customers’ smiles as they thanked us. We still didn’t speak, but we began to believe that maybe we could do this again next week, and the week after that, until the Lord told Elder Stephen we’d done enough.

  But that night we were exhausted from the strain of dealing with worldly people. Mother looked at our faces and said, ‘Go and rest, my daughters. Abraham, Luke and Magdalene can do your chores today.’

  We felt mean, but were grateful to obey.

  THE NEXT SATURDAY we weren’t so nervous, and we remembered to smile. But we were still surprised when the woman from the sweet stall came bustling over to talk to us.

  ‘Hello dearies, it’s a pleasure to see you there, it truly is. Such good girls, and the young man so pleasantly spoken too. We need more like him. My name’s Sarah — Sarah Lipscombe.’ Her eyes were kind. ‘I can see this is hard for you, but you’ll do better if you can chat to your customers. Nothing serious. Just say good morning and isn’t the weather warm today. That sort of thing. They’ll love you for it, I promise you.’

  When she’d returned to her stall, we checked with Gideon. ‘What do you think? Will it grieve the Lord if we speak with the customers?’

  He thought about it while we served three people, then said, ‘The woman has worked here for some time, I think. She must know what customers expect. It has come to me that the Lord will want you to do all you can to show the godliness of the Children of the Faith. I believe it is right to do as she advises. I know you will always be respectful.’

  We were glad to have his guidance, for it was a big step for us to talk to worldly people.

  A man struggling with two full bags of vegetables plonked them down and grinned at us. ‘A dozen eggs please, ladies.’

  I couldn’t think of anything to say — Rachel was silent too — but we smiled as we gave him the eggs and the change, and I found myself whispering, ‘Thank you.’

  The next two customers didn
’t try to pass the time of day with idle chat, but the woman who came after them said, ‘How are you today, girls?’

  ‘We are pleased with the sunshine,’ I said.

  Rachel’s voice was very soft as she asked, ‘Is your day going well?’

  The woman beamed at us. ‘All the better for seeing you two. You’re a breath of fresh air, the pair of you.’

  When she had gone, Gideon leaned out the truck window. ‘Excellent, girls. Well done. Do not worry — you were very respectful.’

  When it was time to pack up, we had passed the time of day with four more customers. Again, when we got home we were exhausted. But as the weeks went by we became used to the market, and to chatting to our customers. By the time several months had passed, we found we even looked forward to Saturdays.

  ‘The stall holders are all so kind,’ Rachel said to me one evening. ‘I hadn’t thought worldly people would be like that. I do hope …’

  ‘… that they find the path to salvation,’ I said.

  ‘Yes. But, Rebecca — I don’t feel holy enough. Not to lead somebody to salvation, I mean.’

  Neither did I.

  I wondered if Elder Stephen would be angry if he knew that the market days had become the highlight of our week. Would the Lord tell him to choose two other girls? I ran the Rule through my mind, but there was nothing saying you couldn’t enjoy doing the work of the Lord. I prayed we’d be allowed to continue.

  How very strange life could be.

  Four

  The Rule

  A man’s behaviour is a matter between himself and his conscience.

  AT THE TEMPLE OF WORSHIP one Sunday in December, Elder Stephen said, ‘Brother Gideon, the Elders thank you for your work at the market. We relieve you of that duty. Your place will be taken by Brother Ira. We have prayed and it has come to us that commercial experience in the market will be useful to him in his work in the business centre.’

  Rachel and I were horrified. We’d known Ira all our lives and we knew well he wasn’t the godly man he pretended to be. ‘It’s lucky we understand what to do now,’ my sister said. ‘Ira wouldn’t have been the slightest bit helpful.’

  I shuddered. ‘No. He would’ve reported everything to Elder Stephen — all our smiles, everything we said to pass the time of day with the customers.’

  ‘He won’t help us on Saturday,’ Rachel said.

  She was right. From the moment he picked us up, he set out to make our day difficult. Instead of stopping the truck where we were waiting, he drove on past us to pull up just before the intersection a hundred metres away. When we got in beside him, we politely wished him good morning. He didn’t reply but took off with a jerk before Rachel could shut the door.

  He didn’t help us set up the stall, and he didn’t stay around to look after us. If it hadn’t been for Mrs Lipscombe in the sweet stall, we’d have had an impossible time of it. The Elders wouldn’t have liked us accepting help from a worldly woman but, like Ira, the Elders weren’t there.

  Ira came back in time only to watch us pack up the truck.

  None of us said a word on the drive home. Rachel and I wouldn’t speak to him, and we wouldn’t speak to each other in front of him.

  But then, when we were five minutes from home, he broke the silence. ‘If you two little bitches know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your mouths shut about today.’

  Nobody in the Children of the Faith used such words. Rachel’s fingers tightened on mine.

  But he had more to say. ‘You know what’s going to happen if you tell? Nobody’s going to believe you. You’re just girls — Pilgrim brats too. They’ll believe me every time. So suck it up, sisters.’

  We stayed silent, too shocked to speak. We didn’t even say goodbye when he stopped at our corner to let us out.

  We walked slowly, trying to work out what to do. ‘We must tell Father,’ Rachel whispered.

  Yes, but how to do it without breaking the Rule was the problem.

  ‘We must tell him now. As soon as we get in the house. Rebecca, we have to.’

  ‘I know. But you know the problem as well as I do.’ There was no time for more talk, not with Magdalene and the boys erupting from the house and clamouring for news.

  Abraham took the basket from us, his eyes bright as he whispered, ‘What did you see? Quick!’

  Always, we kept a lookout for sights we knew would intrigue them. Last week a man had led an alpaca right through the market. This week? We hadn’t given a thought to what we would tell them.

  ‘Something bad happened. We have to speak to Father,’ I said.

  Magdalene clutched our hands. ‘Will you die?’

  Rachel gathered her up in a hug. ‘No. We haven’t been bad. We’ll tell you later.’

  ‘All of us?’ Luke asked. ‘Abraham and me too?’

  ‘Of course,’ Rachel said. ‘Don’t upset Mother. Just tell her we had to speak to Father.’

  We hurried to the door of his study, waiting until he gave us permission to go in.

  ‘There is a reason for disturbing me?’ he asked at last. ‘Did something happen today? Have you broken the Rule?’

  We edged closer together, standing with our joined hands hidden in the folds of our skirts. ‘There is a reason,’ Rachel said. ‘We have upheld the Rule. We have not broken it.’

  My turn. This was a risk, but one that had to be taken. ‘Father, we need your permission to speak about what happened. It involves another person.’

  The Rule was clear: a man’s behaviour was a matter between himself and his conscience. That particular rule divided the members of our Fellowship into those who carried tales and those who did not. Ira was a telltale; we were not.

  Father’s frown deepened. ‘If this matter concerns somebody else, why do you need to speak of it? You know the Rule. I am disappointed in you both. Call the family and we will pray for you.’

  We had failed. I turned to leave, but Rachel, her voice desperate, said, ‘Father, it concerns us too. And our good name among the Fellowship. We know it is a serious thing to ask to go against the Rule.’

  I gave her hand a squeeze. Father was very conscious of the good name of the Pilgrim family. I reached for some courage. ‘It is a serious reason, Father. Truly.’

  He closed his eyes and we knew he was asking the Lord for guidance. Finally, he looked at us. ‘Very well. You have my permission to break the Rule.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’

  He did not tell us to sit.

  ‘We began getting low on change after about an hour,’ I said. ‘Usually it takes longer, but today everybody seemed to want to buy our eggs.’

  Rachel took up the story. ‘Ira went away as soon as we got to the market. He took the extra change with him. Rebecca went to look for him but could not find him. Five minutes later, I tried.’

  Me again. ‘We did not try again. It was not comfortable being alone among the people. But we had to turn several customers away who could not give us the correct money.’

  Here was where the story got sticky. Our father would not approve of us accepting assistance from a worldly person. It couldn’t be helped. It must be told. Rachel said, ‘The lady from the sweet stall saw what was happening. She offered to lend us some change and we accepted. We are sorry if that was wrong. We still had over half the eggs to sell and people were waiting.’

  We stood, holding each other’s hand tight. Father sat with his eyes closed, praying again, but in the end he said, ‘Continue.’

  ‘We sold all the eggs and returned the change to Mrs Lipscombe, the sweet-stall lady.’ I pulled a business card from my pocket. ‘She gave us this.’

  Father set it on his desk without looking at it. ‘You did right to speak of this. Ira cannot have understood that he was to escort you all day.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Do you have the same complaints from when Gideon was your escort?’

  It would go badly for us if we did. Gideon had been our escort for several months.

  I shook my head.
‘No, Father. Brother Gideon never left us alone. When one of us needed to go to the bathroom, he asked Mrs Lipscombe to make sure the other was safe. Then he would wait and we would walk back together.’

  ‘He always thanked Mrs Lipscombe for her care,’ Rachel added.

  We couldn’t tell Father of Gideon’s kindness in helping us become accustomed to dealing with worldly strangers. He would question us closely to make sure we’d never broken the Rule when we spoke to our customers.

  ‘I will pray about this. Go and help your mother now.’

  ‘But that is not all, Father,’ Rachel said. She was shaking, and so was I.

  ‘We did not speak to Ira about his absence. But on the way home he threatened us. He called us an evil name and he told us not to speak about what had happened.’ I could not go on.

  Rachel finished the telling. ‘He said he would deny it. He said we would not be believed because we were girls and we were Pilgrims.’

  There. It was done. We had done our best to stop Ira’s mischief, but there was no escape from the fact that we had broken the Rule in speaking of it.

  Father’s expression was severe, or perhaps it was full of sorrow at being reminded of the shame of having a son, a daughter and a niece banished and deemed to be dead. Their expulsion from the Children of the Faith had brought the godliness of our family into question.

  But it seemed he had not been thinking of them. ‘You are telling me that Ira threatened you? That he used foul language against you? I cannot believe it of Ira. He is most strict in upholding the Rule. Are you certain of what you say? Is this a story to cover up your dealings with a worldly woman?’

  I stared at him, my chest squeezed too tight for speech. I shook my head. Beside me, Rachel was gasping for breath.

  He kept frowning at us, his eyes hard.

  ‘We speak the truth, Father. The Lord is our witness.’