Being Magdalene Read online

  Praise the Lord.

  Eight

  ABRAHAM STOPPED THE CAR. ‘Can you walk, sis? It’s not far.’

  Everyone would have stared at us anyway and I didn’t want to make it worse by being carried. ‘I’ll be okay.’

  There were only a few people sitting at the tables and they did stare at us in our Faith clothes. Luke led us to a corner as far away from the other customers as possible, while Abraham went up to the counter.

  ‘Luke! We’re not wearing our headscarves!’ Oh! We really would die and go to hell.

  But my brother grinned at me. ‘Chill, sis. We’ve broken so much of the Rule already, what does one more transgression matter?’

  ‘It might make us be in a really hot part of hell,’ Zillah said, her eyes wide.

  Luke said, ‘I don’t believe the nice Lord would do that, Zillah. Remember? We pray to the nice Lord, not the nasty one Elder Stephen listens to.’

  She nodded. ‘I forgot. Tell me about Rebecca’s friends.’

  ‘Food first.’ Abraham plonked a tray of food on the table. There were drinks and chips too. ‘Can you manage, Magdalene?’ He saw I couldn’t, and cut my hamburger into small pieces. The bandages were still too difficult, and the three of them ended up feeding me pieces as if I was a toddler.

  The flavours were different from our own food. I liked it, though the drink was dark and too sweet.

  Zillah grabbed the last chip, stuck it in her mouth and said, ‘Tell me things.’

  Abraham didn’t try to soften it. ‘Daniel is our brother. He’s the oldest in our family. He’s twenty-four now.’

  Zillah’s mouth fell open, but, before she could speak, he went on, ‘Miriam is our sister. She’s twenty-two. Esther’s our cousin. She lived with us for the summer when you were born. You wouldn’t be alive now if she hadn’t been there.’

  There was silence as we watched our little sister try to understand, try to believe in a brother, sister and cousin she’d never heard of. In the end, she pushed at the drink. ‘I don’t like it. Can I have a hot chocolate? Please?’ Her voice shook. She sounded very young and very frightened.

  I moved back to make space between me and the table. ‘Come here, Zillah.’

  She scrambled up from her seat to huddle into me. I put my arms around her. Abraham got up, and the rest of us were quiet until he came back with hot chocolates for each of us. He looked at Luke, his head tipped sideways in a question.

  ‘Zillah, do you want us to tell you more?’ Luke asked.

  She said nothing for ages, then she said, ‘Is that what makes you sad, Magdalene? Are you sad they’re dead?’

  I hugged her tight. ‘Yes, that’s why. When they cast Miriam out, they said she was dead and damned. I thought it was my fault. I thought she really was dead. I thought I’d killed her.’

  My brothers gaped at me. Abraham almost screeched, ‘What! Why would you think that, for the love of heaven?’

  Luke shushed him. ‘Not so loud, brother.’ He was looking at me too, a big question on both their faces.

  ‘I was five years old …’

  Abraham said, ‘Four. They banished her before your birthday. She went before Christmas.’

  What did it matter? My birthday was at the end of December. I’d been near enough to five. ‘Father told her not to draw. He said it was a sin to draw images that weren’t about scripture and the Lord.’ I could hardly bear to say the next bit. ‘The day she didn’t come back — she drew a picture of me. Father found it. I thought she’d died because she drew a picture of me.’

  Zillah was shivering as if she was chilled to the bone.

  ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘I know she’s not dead. I know it wasn’t my fault she got banished. I know that now.’

  The boys still seemed to be trying to believe I’d blamed myself — they sat there, staring at me and shaking their heads.

  Zillah said, ‘How did you find out? How do you know it’s not true? How do you know she’s not really dead?’

  Questions. I knew she would have millions of them. ‘Esther told me. She told me the difference between being really dead and being dead to us.’

  Luke said, ‘Esther is our cousin, Zillah. Her mother went away to another country for a while, so she came to live with us. Father wanted her to obey the Rule, but she was a worldly girl and she found it hard.’

  Zillah swished that away. ‘Tell me about Miriam. She might be really dead. How do you know she’s not?’

  Abraham put her drink into her hands. ‘Get that inside you. Now, listen. You know when Rachel and Rebecca used to go to sell eggs at the market? Well, one day, Esther saw them there. She told them Miriam and Daniel are well. She said they’re happy and they pray for us.’ He pulled his mouth down. ‘Rachel and Rebecca had to stay in the discipline room for two days because they didn’t turn away when they saw her.’

  Zillah shook her head. ‘But she might tell lies like Elder Stephen does. They might be really dead and then they’d be damned and they’ll be burning up in hell.’

  ‘They’re not bloody dead, kid! Believe it. The Elders are a pack of lying dictators.’ Abraham’s voice was so full of fury that Zillah and I shrank away from him. We’d never seen him so angry before, not like this.

  Luke frowned at him. ‘You’ve found out something, haven’t you?’

  Abraham sat fuming for several moments, then made up his mind. He pulled a folded paper from his pocket. ‘Yes, I bloody have, but I can’t tell Father. He’ll go ballistic if he sees it, and completely off his head if he knows I’ve shown it to you lot. So be careful.’

  I didn’t want to look, but I was also desperate to know what had made our brother so furious.

  Luke smoothed the paper out. It was a newspaper cutting. He ran his eyes over it, then looked at Abraham. ‘This will be why Elder Stephen went after Magdalene. And why you got left off the marriage list. How did you get hold of it?’

  But Zillah reached over for the paper before Abraham could answer. ‘Show us! Let us see too. Look, Magdalene — it’s a picture.’

  ‘Read what it says,’ Abraham said.

  I obeyed, reading aloud. ‘Artist Miriam Pilgrim’s new exhibition is attracting a great deal of interest and critical acclaim. She calls the series The Lost Ones. The young artist, whose estranged family lives in Nelson, is the daughter of Caleb Pilgrim, a stalwart of the cult religion called the Children of the Faith. She was thrown out at the age of fourteen because painting and creating non-religious images was against the Rule that governs the lives of those of the Faith. Her brother Daniel (pictured) was likewise banished because he wanted to be a doctor — an ambition he has now achieved. Rebecca (left), another sister, ran away on the day she was meant to marry the leader of the cult who at that time was seventy-six years old. She was just sixteen. The leader, Elder Stephen Righteous, has refused to comment.’

  Miriam, Daniel and Rebecca — they were all there in front of me. They were all alive and well. I envied with all my being the way they looked out of that photo. Miriam seemed to be bursting with something that made her … excited, I think. Daniel and Rebecca were beaming with pride. None of them seemed weighed down by thoughts of sin and damnation.

  ‘It’s true,’ I said, my eyes still taking in their faces. ‘They’re real. They’re really alive. They’re happy. See, Zillah — you don’t die if you get banished. You really, truly don’t die.’

  But what was such a comfort to me wasn’t a scrap of comfort for her. ‘I want to see them! It’s not fair. Why can’t I talk to them?’

  Luke, his voice urgent, said, ‘Abraham, how did you get hold of this?’

  ‘Asked my mate. He found this in a paper. It came out the morning Elder Stephen had a go at you about Neriah, Magdalene.’ He sounded savage.

  I couldn’t think, couldn’t put the pieces together. I chose the simplest part to focus on. ‘But when did you ask your friend? It’s Monday today and you haven’t been to work. Is he a worldly person? Does he come to the worksh
op?’

  Our brother gave an impatient shrug. ‘Yeah, he’s worldly. Brings stuff in for fixing. He’s around a fair bit. I went to see him last night. You were asleep. I told Father I had to get some air, and for once he didn’t argue.’

  ‘Is it Warren?’Luke asked. ‘You’re sure he won’t say anything?’

  Abraham gave him a look. ‘He knows the score. He’ll keep his mouth shut.’ He sounded like he didn’t care if his friend did tell the Elders.

  Luke picked up the cutting. ‘This was in the paper Friday morning. Friday night Elder Stephen goes after Magdalene. You shot him down, and Sunday he gets back at you. And the parents are on their knees praying for your soul.’

  Abraham snorted. ‘Exactly. Beats me how they refuse to see it’s no bloody coincidence my name was left off that list. You’d think by now Father would start to wonder why the old bugger grabs any trumped-up excuse to punish a Pilgrim.’

  Zillah stared at him. ‘Do you die if you say curse words?’ She frowned. ‘I mean, do you have to go away and the Elders tell lies and say you’re dead? Don’t go away, Abraham.’

  He leaned his elbows on the table. ‘Don’t know what I’m going to do yet. You’d better know, though — I’m probably going to leave now I’m not going to be married. The old devil’s done me a favour, I guess. I couldn’t just disappear if I’d asked a girl to marry me.’

  The memory of Rebecca’s sadness after Malachi left the Faith instead of marrying her as he’d promised was sharp in our minds. Our brother was too honourable to treat a girl so shamefully. We were silent. Abraham was going to leave and we’d never see him or speak to him again. Two brothers and two sisters, lost for ever.

  The Lost Ones by Miriam Pilgrim.

  I wished the photo of the painting was clearer. Did she still grieve for us? Did Daniel and Rebecca — maybe even Esther?

  Zillah broke the silence. ‘Will you go to a real school when you go away, Abraham? Can I come too? Will Father banish me if I go to a real school? I wouldn’t be able to talk to Luke or Magdalene again, would I?’

  Luke said, ‘You’re too young to be banished, but I think you’d have to learn an awful lot of psalms.’

  ‘But I want to learn proper things!’ She leaned into me and sobbed. ‘The Elders are mean. I hate them.’

  I didn’t try to soothe her, just held her tight and rocked her. The boys sat quietly too, the three of us staring at the paper clipping. Miriam, Daniel and Rebecca were alive and well and happy. They were real. I still found it difficult to take in, to believe.

  After a bit, one of the McDonald’s people came over. She set an ice cream down in front of Zillah. ‘Here you are, sweetie. An ice cream can’t heal a broken heart, but it can help.’ She pushed a wad of paper serviettes into Zillah’s hand. ‘Mop up. You’ll feel better soon.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘You’re very kind.’

  She gave my bandaged hands a long look. ‘You’re welcome.’

  We knew Zillah wouldn’t feel better soon. The best we could hope for was that she would grow accustomed. I didn’t want such heartache for my sister.

  It was nearly midday when we arrived home, but our parents were still in Father’s study, kneeling on the wooden floor and praying for Abraham’s soul.

  I knew I should begin preparing a meal, but I stood in the kitchen, staring at my hands. Why had I done it, and why couldn’t I remember hurting them? The doctor had said I wasn’t ill — not exactly, he’d said. I just felt battered, like my hands.

  Luke touched my shoulder. ‘Go to bed, Magdalene. We’ll do the lunch.’

  ‘All right.’ I was too tired to argue. ‘But, Luke, you’d better say a prayer for Abraham’s soul. Father will ask if we prayed.’

  Abraham gave a hiss, but Luke said, ‘She’s right. Okay, then — bow your heads, troops. Lord we pray for our brother Abraham to be able to use the talents you have given him. We pray for his life to be filled with your love and grace. Amen.’

  ‘I like that prayer, Luke,’ Zillah said. ‘Is that how you pray to the nice Lord?’

  Abraham gave her plait a tug. ‘I like it too. Thanks, brother. Now get to bed, Magdalene, before you fall down.’

  Nine

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, ZILLAH got herself up first again, dressed, then helped me. She didn’t chatter the way she’d done the day before. ‘What’s wrong, Zillah?’ I asked. ‘Are you wondering about Daniel and Miriam and Rebecca?’

  She nodded. ‘Tell me about them. Tell me stories.’ Her voice dropped — we were only allowed to tell stories from the Bible.

  I told her stories. I told her how Miriam put me to bed each night and how she drew pictures for me of the people at her school. I told her how Daniel was kind just like Abraham and Luke were, but he was much more serious.

  ‘Did Daniel say curse words too? When he got angry?’ She looked worried. Elder Stephen preached that cursing was a sure way to damnation.

  I shook my head. ‘No. He never got angry either.’ An image of our brother’s face swam in my mind. ‘I think he was sad a lot. He didn’t smile very much.’

  ‘Was he sad like you’re sad?’ she asked. ‘Did he cry and cry and be sad?’

  ‘No, Daniel never cried.’ I closed my eyes, striving not to cry right then. She was so little. She needed a strong, bold sister like Esther had been when she lived with us.

  ‘He isn’t sad in the photo. He’s smiling.’ She patted my shoulder. ‘It’s all right, Magdalene. He’s happy now. He wouldn’t be happy if he was burning in hell.’

  I put a smile on my own face. ‘Yes. It was good to see the photo. Come on, we’d better go to breakfast.’ I gave her a clumsy hug. ‘I’ll tell you more tomorrow morning.’

  Abraham and Luke were finishing their meal when we arrived in the kitchen. Abraham turned to Father. ‘You’re not making that kid go to school.’

  ‘It is the Rule, Abraham. And kindly speak in a seemly manner.’ Father didn’t look at him as he spoke.

  My brother glared at him. I touched his arm with my bandaged hand and shook my head. ‘I’m … I am well enough, Abraham.’

  ‘Sure!’ He hit the table with the flat of his hand. ‘You’re a bundle of energy and no mistake. If you’ve got to go, I’ll drive you and I’ll collect you afterwards. You’re not walking one step further than you absolutely have to.’

  Father looked up. ‘That is not necessary, Abraham.’

  ‘No?’ my brother said. ‘Too bad. It’s what’s going to happen.’

  The two of them stared at each other. Zillah reached for my hand, taking hold of my wrist above the bandages, but Luke’s face stayed expressionless. Abraham’s chin jutted out and his jaw was clenched tight. Father looked the same as always — holy and calm. After age-long seconds he was the first to speak. ‘I will not argue with you, my son. I beg you to pray for forgiveness for breaking the Rule about obedience.’

  He stood up and left the room, and I prayed he hadn’t heard my brother’s furious reply: You’ll be lucky!

  Mother gave him a sharp look. ‘Remember the scripture, my son. Obey your parents in all things: for this is well pleasing unto the Lord. Magdalene, you especially must take these words into your heart.’

  Would she care if she knew how her words hurt my heart?

  School was a waste of time — even more of a waste of time than usual. Sister Leah came to the door when she heard the car. She watched the three of us get out. Luke and Zillah walked beside me, ready to help if I needed it.

  Sister Leah wasn’t impressed. She got mad when I fumbled with my pen and couldn’t turn the pages by myself. ‘It is a sin to draw attention to yourself, Magdalene Pilgrim. I have no time for girls who faint and make a fuss.’

  Perhaps something had shifted in my heart, for her words made me angry instead of ashamed. I stood up. ‘I will go and help Sister Anna with the juniors. It will be best to remove myself if looking at me is so painful for you.’

  Zillah was delighted to see me, and Sister Anna w
as kind. ‘It is good to have you with us, Magdalene. I have been most concerned for you.’ She still looked worried but maybe there were other things to worry about as well.

  How odd. Her kindness brought the tears, whereas Sister Leah’s scolding had only made me angry. She put her hands on my shoulders and studied my face, my bandaged hands. ‘You look weary unto death, dear child. Come with me.’ She led me to the back of the room where she pulled out a pile of little mattresses used by the young children when they grew tired. ‘Rest is a great healer. The Lord wants you to be well, but you must help Him out by being sensible.’

  I didn’t tell her my father thought differently. I slept until she woke me at home time.

  On Wednesday morning, Abraham was in the kitchen as usual. He hadn’t gone away in the night. He was still our brother.

  He drove us to school and said, ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet, so don’t ask. Okay?’

  I was strong enough to go to my own classroom and face Sister Leah, but instead I chose to go with Zillah so that I could lie on the mattresses and think. There was so much to try to understand. Father, the Rule, my life, Zillah, Abraham. Luke, who had discovered a Lord who was kind. Brother Jedidiah, who had taken his family away from the Faith and the Lord. What was Neriah doing now? Was she worried about doom and damnation? Why were people still uneasy?

  At break, I went to the tree with my friends. I’d forgotten they didn’t know how I’d hurt myself. Jemimah gestured at my bandaged hands. ‘Don’t worry. Curiosity won’t kill us. We’re just glad to see you’re well again.’

  Carmel snorted. ‘Well-ish! You don’t look a bundle of energy, and that’s the truth, Magdalene Pilgrim.’

  I would tell them what I could. ‘This is what happened. It’s weird, though, and I don’t understand, so it’s no use asking.’

  Carmel said, ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to tell us anything.’

  I shrugged. ‘Might as well. Everyone will be gossiping about the fainting and about these.’ I held up my bandaged hands.