Being Magdalene (14 page)

MOTHER WAS OUT OF
bed when we got home. ‘Is your sister well? Has the baby arrived yet? What does the doctor say?’

I thought she was more concerned for her grandchild than for Rachel. We answered her questions as best we could and didn’t mention Elder Stephen.

That evening she helped us cook dinner, preaching at us the entire time. Zillah kept her head down and didn’t utter
Praise the Lord
once.

Was this how our lives were to be from now on?

As soon as we heard Father arrive home, I said, ‘Please excuse us, Mother. We have done nothing wrong but we need to speak to Father.’

He was surprised to see us. We never came to meet him. ‘Has something happened, daughters?’ He sounded worried.

‘No. Not really, but we think you need to know.’ I stumbled over my words.

He got out of the car. ‘Very well.’

‘Mother will serve the dinner in a minute,’ Zillah said.

He paused at the kitchen door. ‘The matter is urgent?’

‘I don’t … do not … know, but if Elder Stephen comes …’

He walked on to his study. ‘Sit down, daughters. Magdalene, what has occurred?’

We told him, omitting nothing except the exact words the woman at the door had said.
Nutter. Boot up the backside
. Father would not be happy for us to repeat such words.

As it was, we saw the shock on his face. ‘My daughters — you are sure Rachel did not know who he referred to?’

‘We are sure, Father.’

He closed his eyes for a moment. ‘Forgive me. Your sister is a godly woman. She would not tell an untruth and she would not try to hide such a truth.’

We waited for him to tell us to kneel and pray, but he kept on staring over our heads until the loud crashing of pots in the kitchen brought his mind back. He stood up. ‘You did well to speak to me of this. We will not upset your mother with it.’

‘No, Father.’

She cast us a furious glare when we sat down at the table. Father saw it but began to say grace as always. The meal passed in silence.

Prayers that evening were no longer than usual, but when I tried to go to bed at the same time as Zillah, Mother said, ‘You will do the mending, Magdalene. It has been shamefully neglected of late.’

‘Yes, Mother.’

I sewed a button back on to one of Luke’s shirts, then fixed the hem of a table napkin where it had unravelled. She read scripture to me as I sewed.

‘
He that believeth and is baptised shall be saved; but he that believeth not shall be damned
. Heed the words of the Lord, Magdalene.’

‘Praise the Lord.’ I pulled my stitches tight.

The next day was Saturday but Mother wouldn’t let us go with her to buy the week’s groceries. ‘You will stay home today,’ she said. ‘Clean your brother’s room. Make it perfect for his return.’

‘Yes, Mother. Is he coming back today?’ My heart lifted.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ she said. ‘He will not be back until next Sunday. Keep your thoughts on scripture while you work.
Wash you, make you clean, put away the evils of your doings before mine eyes; cease to do evil
. Heed the words of the Lord, daughters.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

Father came in. ‘Are you ready, wife? Let us go.’

They drove away.

‘I don’t want to wash curtains and scrub the floor. It’s not fair! Luke should be here. We need him to be here.’ Zillah wore her rebellious face, but she came with me to Luke’s bedroom. He had it all to himself now Abraham was married. She stood in the doorway. ‘This room is
clean
. Why do we have to do it all again?’

I shrugged, climbed on a chair and began unhooking
the curtains, saying, ‘These don’t need washing.’ I tossed the curtains on to the floor. ‘Help me take them out to the clothesline.’

She didn’t move. ‘That’s dumb, Magdalene. We have to wash the stupid things first.’

‘That’s what we’re meant to do,’ I said. ‘But we’re not going to. We’re going to peg them on the line and squirt them with the hose. They’ll be wet, so Mother will think we’ve washed them and scrubbed them.’

She leapt up, scooped up an armful of curtain and ran outside. ‘We’re being really, really sinful! But I don’t think the nice Lord will punish us. Do you think He will, Magdalene?’

‘No. I think the nice Lord likes us having fun.’ I wasn’t worried about any punishment from the Lord, not when there was Elder Stephen to worry about. Tomorrow was Sunday and he would not have forgotten about Rachel, or about Zillah going to a real school, or about me running through the streets with my hair uncovered. We had given him something real to punish us for.

We would have fun while we still could.

Mother didn’t check on our work when she got home. She went straight to her bed.

We unpacked the groceries and put them away. ‘What’s the
matter
with her?’ Zillah asked. ‘She’s not sick. She should help us.’

I tipped rice into its container. ‘She’ll be well enough to go to worship tomorrow. Betcha.’

My sister dropped a potato on the floor and gave it a hefty kick. ‘I don’t want to go to worship. Elder Stephen
goes on and on about wickedness and salvation. But he told lies about Rachel, so he’ll go to hell too.’ She gave the potato another boot. ‘I hope he goes to hell tonight.’

I retrieved the poor potato and handed it to her. ‘See how far you can kick it outside.’

She snatched it, thumping her feet with each step she took. The door crashed shut behind her.

Sin, iniquity, damnation.

We made lunch and took Mother hers on a tray.

After Father had said grace, I asked, ‘Father, do you know if Mother bought ingredients for the food we must take to worship tomorrow?’

He pushed his plate away, then set his clasped hands on the table. ‘We will not be taking food with us tomorrow. Your mother is not well enough to prepare it.’

‘Thank you, Father.’

He got up, pausing to say, ‘You are good girls, my daughters.’

We cleared away the lunch things in silence, until Zillah said, ‘I think he loves us, Magdalene. Do you think he does?’ She ran at me, snatching the dishcloth from my hand. ‘Don’t keep wiping and wiping things! Stop it!’

I stood statue still, just breathing — in and out. In and out. ‘Okay. I’m all good. Let’s go to the park. If I don’t get out of here, my head’s going to explode and you’ll have to clean up the mess.’

Father gave us his permission. We put on our headscarves and walked, the way good and godly girls must do.

I told my sister, ‘Yes, I think Father does love us.
I truly believe he does.’ But he couldn’t protect us. The Rule wouldn’t let him.

Mother was busy in the kitchen when we got back. One look at her stormy face was enough to chase away the happiness of the afternoon.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I do not want your help. You ran off and left me in my hour of need. What child does that? Not a Faith child. Remember the words of scripture:
God will render to every man according to his deeds
.’

‘I’m a girl, not a man,’ Zillah muttered.

‘We will set the table for you, Mother.’ I spoke loudly, hoping she wouldn’t yell at Zillah for being blasphemous, ungodly, iniquitous, sinful, disrespectful and probably six more things as well.

We called Father to the table. He sat down, saying, ‘Wife, it is good to see you well.’

The food was tasteless. She’d made a shepherd’s pie but there was no salt in the meat. Father put the half slug he found in his lettuce on the side of his plate without comment. Zillah gave a gasp of horror — she’d eaten all her salad.

Mother went to bed as soon as she’d finished eating. I went to bed at the same time as Zillah, leaving the shameful basket of mending untouched.

Zillah shut our bedroom door, then stood in front of it, her hands on her hips. ‘You’ve been really weird all day, Magdalene Pilgrim. If you start staying in bed and preaching scripture too, I’ll run away and
I won’t tell you. So there!’

I didn’t answer her — I didn’t know if it’d be kind to warn her that tomorrow was going to be bad or if I should say nothing. She stomped off to have a shower, staying in there longer than we were supposed to. Neither of us spoke when she came back. I went to the bathroom, stood under the shower and let the water run over me until it went cold.

Back in the bedroom, Zillah threw herself at me. ‘Don’t be cross, Magdalene! I didn’t mean to be horrid to you. I won’t run away without telling you. I promise.’

I put my arms around her. ‘I’m not cross with you. I’m just worried, Zillah. Really worried about tomorrow.’

I felt her head move as she nodded. After long ages she said, ‘I’m glad you’re not cross with me.’

IT WAS STRANGE TO
be going to worship without carrying containers of food. Mother said nothing about it, and didn’t notice Zillah’s silence or my shakiness. She just kept urging us to heed the word of the Lord, to obey the Rule, to be good and godly girls. Father let her talk the whole way.

The mood was strange at the temple, too. Carmel walked past me without stopping, but I caught the words she whispered. ‘We’re not allowed to talk to you.’

Why? Did my friends have to shun me for running bare-headed through the streets?
Contamination, moral pollution, the road to damnation
.

Zillah clutched my hand. Others looked away when they saw us. Only Talitha’s parents, Brother Ebenezer and Sister Priscilla, came over to speak to us. ‘Our children are prospering in Auckland. Praise the Lord for their happiness.’

Mother said, ‘I pray they are leading godly lives.’

Zillah pulled Sister Priscilla’s sleeve. ‘Have you had a letter? What did it say?’

Talitha’s mother smiled kindly. ‘Our daughter writes that she is most grateful for Luke’s help and company. She says her heart rejoices to see her husband’s excitement about what he is learning.’

Those things were good to hear, but I knew there was so much our new sister hadn’t written. What did she think of Luke’s study at the library? Was she reading sinful, worldly books too? Was Abraham being a kind husband and did he esteem her the way a husband should? He could be so forgetful when he got buried in engines — they were all he could think about.

Somebody tapped me on the shoulder. It was Saul, with a fierce expression on his face. ‘Magdalene, tell me everything about Elder Stephen’s visit to my wife.’ He took my arm, hustling me to the side of the room where it was quieter.

I told him everything, even though Rachel must already have done so. ‘What will you do, Saul?’

His expression got even more grim. ‘I do not know yet. I am waiting to hear what he preaches about today. Then I will decide. But be very sure, Magdalene — I will not tolerate him upsetting my wife again.’

He strode off, leaving me staring after him. He wasn’t worried about the Rule — about how it said we all had to obey our leader because the Lord spoke through him. He would protect my sister against the Elders.

I wished Father would protect Zillah and me.

The dancing started. Most of the people refused to take my hand. I felt dirty — worse than a grubby blob on somebody’s shoe. At last we all formed a circle for
the singing. Zillah and I had no heart for it. She stood with her head bowed. I wished I could put my arm around her, but it wasn’t the custom. Elder Stephen might notice — I didn’t want to do anything to make him look at us.

I prayed for him to preach on the sin of talking to those who were dead and damned, then Saul would jump up and accuse him of telling lies and bullying Rachel. There would be a huge fuss. Zillah’s transgression would get lost in the shouting.

The singing ended. We went to our seats to listen in silence to our leader speak the words of the Lord. Zillah hadn’t chosen a word to listen for. There was just one we didn’t want to hear — her name.

Elder Stephen walked to the lectern. He gazed out at his people with his sorrowful eyes, but he didn’t look at us. It gave me hope that Zillah would not be the subject of his sermon, that he would not shame her in front of the people.

The microphone carried his quiet voice to each person in the temple.

‘My people, I speak to you today of the lamentations of Jeremiah. Remember his words:
I am the man that hath seen affliction
. Jeremiah’s afflictions were heavy indeed, and, my people, they were brought about by the wrath of the Lord.

‘Jeremiah saw for himself the desolation the Lord, in His wrath, let loose upon the fair city of Jerusalem. He saw death, he saw destruction, he saw desolation. Be warned, my people! That fate will be ours if we turn our faces from the Lord. That fate will be ours if
we stray from the one true path.’

He went on and on. I heard the words, but the sense of them tangled itself with my worrying.
Grievous rebellion, affliction, fierce anger, flaming fire
.

Please, Lord, let this not be about Zillah
.

Perhaps he wasn’t speaking of my sister, perhaps the Lord heard my prayer, for our leader began preaching about mercy and compassion.

‘Fear not, my people! Even Jeremiah in his great distress remembered the mercy of the Lord. Heed his words:
It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not
.’

I risked a glance at my parents. Mother sat forward, drinking in every word. Father looked the same as always, his back straight and his face serious. Beside me, my sister hunched herself down as small as she could.

Mercy, compassion, faithfulness
. Those good words fell on me like stones.

I was right to fear them.

‘My people, there is one among us who has forgotten the power of the Lord. There is one among us whose actions mock the Lord. Be warned by the tribulations of Jeremiah, my people. The Lord will not be mocked. Jeremiah in his suffering spoke of affliction, misery, wormwood and gall. And only when he recalled those afflictions did the light shine upon him and he cried out,
My soul is humbled in me
.’

Humbled
. He was going to humble Zillah and make her crawl on the ground for ever more because it was holy to be humbled. I knew another truth too. He couldn’t punish Rebecca, who had escaped from him,
I had eluded him, and Abraham had outwitted him — Zillah would do instead.

She was crying, though doing her utmost to be silent. Her whole body shuddered, and I wanted to wrap my hands around our leader’s scrawny neck and tear the life from him.

I was too frightened to look at Mother and Father. The people swayed in their seats, some of them sighed, a few of them hissed when he told them of Zillah’s sinful transgression. ‘This child committed the sin of disobedience. She broke the Rule which keeps us safe. My people, this child ran through the streets,
bare-headed
. She walked into a worldly school where she stayed for the entire, dreadful day. You are shocked, my people, as I was.’ He still sounded shocked but I didn’t know if his eyes rested on us, for I kept my head bowed.

There was more.
Moral corruption, disobedience, danger, damnation, death
.

Death? Was he going to expel her, like Daniel had been expelled?
You are dead to us
.

He did something much worse.

‘My people, I have prayed about the child Zillah and it has come to me that the Lord does not want her punished.’

I didn’t trust him. He
would
punish her, but he’d make it seem as if he wasn’t.

I was right.

‘The child Zillah will not attend school with her classmates. Instead, she will come each day to my house where I will teach her to love the word of
the Lord. When my duties prevent me from instructing her, Elder Hosea will give her the lessons.’

‘Praise the Lord.’ Mother had said that. Our own mother.

The final hymn muffled the noise of Zillah’s sobs.

I turned to my parents.

Lord, save my sister. Please — save her.

Mother was smiling. Father was praying, not singing. My hope he’d protect her faded. He wouldn’t do it. He couldn’t.

Around us people were chattering as they made their way to the dining room for lunch. Nobody seemed horrified. I heard pieces of talk …
our leader is wise
…
keep her feet on the path
… What of the men who had supported Brother Jedidiah when he wanted proper education for his children? Were they horrified? Brother Ebenezer would be. I didn’t know who the others were.

Mother pushed past me. ‘Zillah! There is no cause for tears. You are a very lucky girl. Dry your eyes. It is time to eat.’ She whipped out her handkerchief and began scrubbing Zillah’s face with it.

Father stopped her. ‘Peace, wife. Magdalene, please take your sister to the bathroom. Help her wash her face and I will be grateful if you can ease her mind about this matter.’

I looked up at him. ‘Father, she
can’t
. He’ll be so horrible to —’

He cut me off. ‘Disobedience has a heavy cost, daughter. It is a hard lesson but a necessary one. Go now.’

Pain stabbed my stomach as I led my sister through the people pushing past us.

Carmel and Jemimah lagged behind their families. They didn’t dare speak openly, not with so many people around, but Jemimah touched my hand and Carmel breathed out a whisper, ‘We’re sorry. We’ll pray for her.’

Their loving sympathy made me want to weep.

A shaft of sunlight fell on the floor of the temple as I opened the door. I pulled Zillah through, shutting it carefully behind us.

I didn’t take her to the bathroom. I sat on the step above where she was standing, so I could look into her face. ‘We can run away, Zillah. We can both run. Right now.’

She didn’t stop to think — just whirled around and took off, skirt and braid flying out behind her. I tore after her, grabbed her hand and together we belted along the road faster than we’d ever run before.

All the time I kept listening for the thunder of feet behind us, for cars to follow us. We kept running even when we had no breath left, slowing only once we reached shops and streets and worldly people who stared at us.

Zillah leaned against a lamp post, her breath coming in heaving gasps. ‘Where are we going, Magdalene? They’ll find us. They’ll be so angry.’ Tears flooded her eyes again.

But I knew where we were going. It had come to me as we raced from the temple. ‘We’re going to the hospital. We’ll ask for Daniel.’

She thought about it for half a second. ‘He’ll help us.’ Then more tears came. ‘But what if he isn’t there? What if they’ve never heard of him?’

Please, Lord, let him be there
. ‘We’ll find somebody to help us. Worldly people must have helped Miriam and Daniel and Esther and Rebecca. Somebody will help us.’ I gave her hand a tug and we set off again.

If the Elders came in their cars, we’d fight and shout and scratch. Worldly people would hear us and save us. I quickened my steps, pulling Zillah along with me, fear driving me on.

Lunch hour at the temple would be nearly over. Mother must have missed us by now. Father would know we hadn’t returned. He might have asked Sister Priscilla to look for us. Or he might just be waiting for us to come back. He’d know that if he sent Mother to search for us she’d make a terrible fuss if she couldn’t find us.

At last we saw the hospital ahead of us. ‘Let’s run, Magdalene,’ Zillah gasped. ‘I’m really scared.’

I was too. Scared, exhausted, terrified.

Nobody shouted at us as we ran for the door we’d gone through on Friday. People did look up, though, their mouths dropping open when they saw us. We ran past them to the desk.

‘Please, is Daniel Pilgrim here?’ I was puffing and breathless.

‘Daniel Pilgrim?’ the woman asked, checking she’d heard right.

‘Yes. Daniel. He’s our brother. Is he here?’

I think she saw something in our faces, or maybe
she heard the desperation in my words, because she said, ‘I’ll find out. Hang on a mo.’

I turned away to watch the door.

‘They’ll come, won’t they, Magdalene?’ Zillah whispered. ‘They’ll take me away.’

I turned back to the woman. ‘Please — just tell us, does Daniel work here? Is he here in this hospital?’

She looked puzzled. ‘Yes, dear, he’s —’

Dizzying relief swept through me. I heard Zillah shriek, ‘Magdalene!’