I am Rebecca Page 8

  ‘I wonder what he’s done to anger her,’ Talitha murmured. ‘I feel guilty about her. She should not have had to marry him.’

  That night, I said to Rachel, ‘D’you think the Elders were wrong to make Kezia marry Ira? She’s a better wife for him than Talitha would have been, but is that a good enough reason?’

  ‘It’s good because Kezia’s strong enough to make sure he leads a godly life. But …’ Her voice faded away.

  I sighed. ‘Yeah. I know. I keep thinking of trying to explain it all to Mrs Lipscombe. She’d throw a fit, Rachel. You know she would.’

  She giggled. ‘Imagine if she knew we were betrothed! I reckon the whole market would hear her screeching!’

  I didn’t know why we kept having these conversations — they always went round and round in the same rut. Yes, it wasn’t right that girls couldn’t choose who they would marry, but we also knew the worldly way of choosing a life partner was haphazard and led to much unhappiness and immorality.

  Rachel checked to make sure Magdalene and Zillah were both sound asleep before she whispered, ‘I want Saul and me to be different from our parents.’ She dropped her voice even further. ‘Father never discusses things with Mother. They never laugh together either — actually, I’ve never ever heard Father laugh. Is that wicked of me?’

  I shook my head. ‘Of course not.’ But my body felt hollow. She’d thought about being married — about what she wanted. I preferred to keep it a vague happening for some time a long way in the future. I breathed in, then out. ‘I think happy people find it easier to be godly. I think we’ll be able to uphold the Rule even if we do discuss things with our husbands. The Rule doesn’t say we can’t laugh — it just says we must behave at all times in a seemly manner. Well, I believe it’s seemly to laugh and smile.’

  ‘I think so, too. Rebecca, are you happy to have Malachi as your husband?’

  Again, I felt a thump of hollowness in my stomach. ‘Yes. I think I’m fortunate. He makes me feel as if he values me.’

  She nodded, satisfied — although, really I didn’t know him much better than when he’d sent me the message through Saul. All five couples were allowed to spend half an hour in each other’s company every Sunday but always we had to have a sharp-eyed married adult with us. I found the sessions excruciating. I knew Rachel looked forward to simply being in the same room as Saul.

  AT THE FIRST MEET of the new year, when the time came for the business discussions, the Elders asked Brother Demas to tell us all about a new system of companion planting that was being introduced at the organic farm. He stood, but didn’t walk to the stage. ‘With your permission, Elders, I will ask Brother Malachi to speak of this. He is the one who has done the research and he understands it fully.’

  Malachi walked to the stage. He was dressed like all the other men in his Sunday dark suit and white shirt — they fitted well enough, but I suspected he much preferred his work clothes of heavy boots and rolled-up sleeves. It was easy to see by his tanned skin and sun-bleached hair that he was an outdoors man.

  I was anxious for him — it was a challenging thing to speak in front of everyone, though he didn’t seem to be nervous. He spoke well, and we could hear the love for his work in his voice. I was proud of him and deeply grateful he had chosen me.

  When we got home, Father said, ‘He is a fine young man, Rebecca. The Lord has blessed you and your sister.’

  Eighteen

  The Rule

  It is the duty of the husband to choose the names of his children. Names shall always come from the Bible.

  ONCE SCHOOL STARTED AGAIN in February, life fell into a quiet rhythm. Sister Jerushah came to class week after week, even though it was increasingly clear her health was failing.

  Kezia’s pregnancy became more obvious. Mother told us the baby would be born in June. She seemed excited, and we thought she dreamed of her own grandchildren to come. The month would bring change for Rachel and me too. We’d turn fifteen, which meant we’d work in the nursery on Sundays instead of in the kitchen. It would be our duty to care for the under-fives while their mothers attended worship.

  Mother said, ‘I have heard that worldly women find out what the baby is before it is born. I cannot understand why they would want to know. Every child is a blessing from the Lord.’ She shook her head as if to rid it of thoughts about worldly women. ‘You will find it so interesting to watch how a baby grows and changes. You will enjoy being in the nursery and it will be excellent training for you. The Elders are very wise.’

  I asked Rachel later, ‘Will you be sorry to miss a year of Sunday worship?’

  She checked to make sure Mother was busy with Zillah. ‘It’ll be a relief. Elder Stephen always makes me feel I’ve been wicked. I know he has to keep us on the path to salvation, but I get terrified every time he speaks.’

  I took another shirt off the clothesline. ‘When he looks at me I always feel like a lowly worm who doesn’t deserve to be alive. I know I disappoint him.’ I watched the shirt fall into the basket at my feet. ‘But I don’t know why.’

  All the same, we were lucky to have such a strong leader who made sure we kept our minds turned to the Lord.

  THE THIRD SATURDAY in June was cold and clear. Mrs Lipscombe brought us drinks of hot chocolate. We thanked her but didn’t tell her that today was our fifteenth birthday.

  When we got home that afternoon, Mother was watching for us. ‘Kezia’s labour has started. Ira took her to the hospital at midday.’

  ‘Is all well?’ Rachel took her arm and guided her to a chair. ‘Are you worried about her?’

  Mother shook her head. ‘I am being foolish. It is just that every birth reminds me … but the hospital will care for her. She is healthy.’

  Home births had gone out of fashion amongst the community after Mother had so nearly died. We hadn’t realised she worried like this for other women, though.

  We looked for Ira at the temple the following morning but he wasn’t there. Drusilla whispered, ‘Kezia’s had the baby. Seven o’clock this morning. It’s a girl.’

  Elder Stephen announced the birth and then preached about the sacred duty of motherhood.

  ‘Pregnancy and childbirth are natural processes. It is written that women shall bring forth their children in pain. Seek not to go against the word of the Lord.’

  When we were in the kitchen, Abigail whispered, ‘What’s the betting Kezia had pain relief?’

  Drusilla nodded. ‘Mother said she demanded it. Ira said she couldn’t have it and she just about yelled the place down. The doctor gave it to her and made Ira wait outside.’

  Ira must have told Elder Stephen.

  Kezia’s baby was baptised in July. The name Ira chose for her was Mara, although perhaps Kezia had chosen it. It meant bitter.

  AT HOME, LIFE WAS PEACEFUL. In a little over a year, Rachel and I would be married to Saul and Malachi. It no longer seemed strange, and my stomach had stopped getting a hollow feeling whenever I thought about it.

  Father seemed less anxious about the behaviour of his children these days, too, and we thought it was because of Abraham’s interest in the machinery at the hire centre. At dinner, our brother would sometimes become pre-occupied, then he’d put down his knife and fork and say, ‘Father, I’ve been thinking about …’ and he’d go off into a technical discussion about a cherry-picker, or a harvester, and why it had broken down.

  Father never growled at him for talking too much, but listened attentively even when we could see he didn’t know as much about machinery as Abraham did.

  It was a blessing, because it took his attention away from Zillah. She was only two but Father seemed to expect her to be able to conduct herself as if she was twelve. Rachel and I sat her between us, helping her or stopping her questions by whispering, ‘Ask us later.’

  One night, when Zillah was asleep, Magdalene asked, ‘Do you think Mother will have any more babies?’

  We’d wondered too, but if we’d asked she’d have only smiled
and said If it is the Lord’s will.

  ‘We don’t know,’ I told her, ‘but we think she won’t. We think the hospital must have told Father it was too dangerous for her to have any more.’

  Magdalene frowned over that for a bit. ‘I don’t understand how you can say you won’t have any more. What if the Lord wants her to have another baby?’

  ‘Darling Magdalene,’ Rachel said, ‘believe me, if we knew the answers we’d tell you.’

  ‘Will you find out when you’re married? Can’t you have a baby unless you’re married?’

  I looked at Rachel but she mouthed, Your turn.

  Thanks, sister.

  We knew so little ourselves. ‘Mother says our husbands will tell us what we need to know. We don’t know how they find out, though, and she won’t tell you, so it’s no good asking.’ I stopped, hoping she’d forget about the other question.

  Of course, she didn’t. ‘But can you only have a baby if you’re married? The cows on the farm have babies and they don’t have husbands.’

  Oh well, I would do my best. ‘Yes, people can have babies when they’re not married, but it’s a very bad thing to do.’

  Our little sister’s eyes widened. ‘Is it a sin? Does it mean those ladies will burn in hell?’

  Rachel came to my rescue. ‘It’s bad because a baby needs a mother and a father. It’s a worldly sin — it doesn’t happen with our people, so you don’t need to worry.’

  It wasn’t a satisfying conversation for her or for us. Kezia now knew the mysteries of the marriage bed and babies, but there was no way she’d tell us even if we had the courage to ask her. We did know, though, that she’d take great delight in making it clear she was now an adult and we were mere children.

  Nineteen

  The Rule

  All life is sacred.

  THE FIRST SUNDAY in August was our first day of working in the nursery instead of the kitchen. It was close enough to the temple building for us to hear the singing but far enough away for the people not to be disturbed by the noise of the little ones.

  ‘Ready?’ Rachel asked as we walked up the path.

  I pulled a face. ‘Can’t wait. Screaming babies. Stinky nappies. Sounds like heaven.’

  ‘But such good training,’ my sister whispered. Then in her normal voice she said, ‘Good morning, Sister Grace.’

  Sister Grace sniffed. ‘Another set of girls who do not know one end of a baby from the other.’ She shouldered the door open and stomped inside. She carried her baby — her seventh child — and shooed her toddler ahead of her.

  ‘The very gracious Sister Grace,’ I muttered. ‘Good morning to you, too.’

  She was one of several older nursing mothers who had a new baby and a toddler. She plonked herself down beside Sister Judith who was feeding her tenth child and watching her four- and two-year-old sons as she did so. There’d be no escaping Sister Judith’s sharp eye — especially at lunchtime when our betrotheds would come to eat their meal with us.

  Talitha arrived soon after we got there. ‘It’s good to see you,’ we said.

  ‘I am happy to be here.’ She spoke carefully to warn us not to shorten our words in front of the older women.

  Kezia sat in a corner by herself. She fed little Mara but stayed beside her when she fell asleep. I went over to her. ‘Kezia, would you like to go to worship now? We will come for you when Mara wakes.’

  She just turned away from me without answering. Later, when Mara cried, Rachel offered to change her, but Kezia ignored her, stomping off to the bathroom to do it herself.

  We didn’t try to talk to her again. The day was busy — babies cried, they dirtied their nappies. It wasn’t all bad, though — the toddlers loved being outside on the swings and slide. I’d have loved to have a turn on the climbing frame myself.

  At dinner that night, Father said to Abraham, ‘My son, your sisters missed hearing the word of the Lord. Tell them what Elder Stephen preached about.’

  Abraham never listened to Elder Stephen. Did Father know that? There was a moment of horrible silence until I gathered my wits. ‘Father, we were fortunate enough to hear what the sermon was about. Sister Judith was able to be present while Elder Stephen was preaching. She helped us understand the importance of obeying the word of the Lord.’

  I hadn’t really listened to what she’d said, but it was a fairly safe guess Elder Stephen would discuss the need for obedience at some stage in the sermon. If I was wrong, it would be the discipline room for me tomorrow.

  But Father inclined his head. ‘It is well. Sister Judith is a godly woman. Praise the Lord.’

  Later that night, Abraham poked his head into our room. ‘Thanks, sis. I never listen to the old guy.’

  Magdalene giggled and I couldn’t help laughing too, but I was a little shocked by him speaking so irreverently about our leader. I prayed it wouldn’t get him into trouble.

  The next Sunday, Sister Damaris was in the nursery with her new baby, a little boy. He was unsettled and we took it in turns to walk with him so that she could get some rest. Kezia sat alone in her corner, watching over Mara. She didn’t even try to speak to Damaris, though the two of them had known each other well in Wanganui.

  The following Wednesday afternoon at the Circle of Fellowship, Abigail was looking stunned. ‘It’s Kezia,’ she said when we were free to go outside. ‘Drusilla’s mother told my mother about it. She went back to her parents last night. She told them she was leaving Ira.’

  I felt sick. ‘Her father made her go back?’

  But we didn’t need to ask. The Rule was clear: a couple are married in the sight of the Lord. The marriage bond cannot be broken. A wife may not leave her husband, nor a husband his wife.

  ‘Do you know why?’ I asked. ‘Why she left, I mean.’

  Abigail shrugged. ‘No.’

  We were quiet until Tirzah said, ‘We could say a prayer for her.’

  We did so, but I knew none of us had any hope our prayer would be heard. That was the Rule: Kezia must live out her life with the man the Elders had made her marry.

  Altogether, it was a miserable week. Sister Jerushah wasn’t at school on Thursday. On Friday we heard she was in hospital. We prayed for her too.

  MARKET DAY ON SATURDAY was wet and windy. Enoch was curt with us and then apologised. ‘The children haven’t been well. But I should not take my lack of sleep out on you.’ He lay down in the cab of the truck and didn’t surface until midday.

  Mrs Lipscombe brought us hot chocolates again. ‘Get these inside you. Wretched weather. Never mind — it’s meant to clear tomorrow. Here’s hoping.’

  ‘We should tell her we’ll be leaving soon,’ Rachel said.

  But we wouldn’t, not yet. I didn’t want to think about how much we’d miss her when we had to stop coming to the market.

  The next day at the nursery, Kezia was back in her corner. She looked awful. Mara started crying, but Kezia didn’t seem to hear.

  I was nearest, so I went to her. ‘Kezia? Here, let me give her to you. She’s beautiful.’ Except at that moment Mara was red-faced with the effort of trying to get her mother’s attention.

  Kezia took her but made no move to start feeding her. She looked at her daughter and murmured, ‘Who will care for you?’

  I knelt down beside her. ‘Kezia! What are you talking about? Look, your baby is hungry. Please — feed her.’

  Kezia’s eyes seemed to come into focus. ‘What? I’m all right. Stop fussing — and stop looking at me like that! Go away, I don’t need you. I don’t need anybody.’

  She wasn’t all right. I hesitated, but she ignored me and got on with feeding her baby.

  I was frightened. What had she meant? Who will care for you? All through the morning, I stayed inside where I could keep an eye on her while I played with the children too small to go out to the playground.

  Talitha came in to take a child to the toilet. ‘Rebecca, you have been indoors all morning. Go out for a bit. The sun is glorious.’

>   I looked up from where I was sitting in the middle of a jumble of blocks, rattles and balls. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine. I’m not in an outside mood today.’

  I was probably worrying about nothing. Kezia seemed to have got herself together. Mara had started to cry a couple of times and each time Kezia had picked her up immediately.

  Mid-morning, Sister Judith’s baby woke and howled his fury at a world that didn’t feed him instantly. I stuck my head out the door. ‘Abigail, can you get Sister Judith? Little Shiloh wants her right now!’

  When I turned back, Kezia was gone. Mara, wrapped in blankets, was lying on the floor under the bench where her mother had been sitting.

  I ran to check the toilets. She wasn’t there, as I’d suspected she wouldn’t be. In my heart, I’d known it. What to do? Don’t make a fuss. Find her.

  I grabbed a soiled nappy from the bucket, dripped it down my skirt, smeared it on my apron and sleeve. Out in the main room, I went to Sister Grace, the most senior of the women present. ‘I must go home and change. Please excuse me. I will ask one of the other girls to come inside.’

  She sniffed. ‘Careless girl.’

  Outside, I called Rachel over. ‘Kezia’s missing. I’m going to look for her. If I’m not back by lunchtime, you’d better tell the Elders.’

  All sorts of understandings flickered over my sister’s face. ‘Go. Quickly. I’ll tell them why you’ve gone home.’ She gestured to my clothes.

  I broke the Rule by running. Lord, keep Kezia safe.

  She couldn’t have been gone long. She couldn’t have got very far. If she intended to take her own life … it was a sin to even think such a thing. The Rule was clear: life was sacred.

  I had to think of it. Where would she go? I stopped running to look around me, to try to put myself into the soul of a desperate girl. The sea? Would she just walk out into the sea until it pulled her under?