Being Magdalene (2 page)

Carmel gave me a shove. ‘That’s rubbish, Magdalene Pilgrim! Elder Stephen’s going to say which boys can get married any day now. Abraham’s the right age — he’s got to have thought about it.’

I shook my head. ‘Nope. Not my brother.’

Jemimah gave Neriah a nudge with her elbow. ‘You’re awful quiet today. What’s up? Have you given your heart to one of those boys too?’

‘No. Of course not.’ She kept her head bent and wouldn’t look at us. ‘Neriah? Is something wrong?’ I put my hand on her arm. ‘Is it your mother? Is the pregnancy making her ill?’ I didn’t ask about her father visiting my father — she wouldn’t have been told anything, just like I hadn’t been told.

‘She’s tired. She’s always tired. She’s not ill though.’ She shook herself, blinking away tears. ‘Sorry. Come on, we’d better get back to stupid class.’She jumped up
and set off across the rough ground without waiting for us.

What was wrong? It might be something to do with her father’s visits, or maybe she really was worried about her mother. Neriah worked hard at home. She was the same age as we were, not far off turning thirteen, but, whereas I had one younger sister, Neriah had eight brothers and sisters younger than she was. We’d never seen her upset before.

‘I’ll talk to her,’ Jemimah said. She quickened her pace to catch her up.

Carmel and I watched Neriah shake her head. Jemimah put her arm around her — they were cousins and best friends, and if Neriah wouldn’t tell Jemimah we knew she couldn’t tell. I shivered in the hot sun. Another mystery, another person behaving differently.

‘It must be bad,’ Carmel said. ‘Maybe she secretly wants to marry your brother too.’

I bit back a sharp retort. Neriah was far too sensible to be thinking about a man she had no hope of marrying. Instead, I said, ‘Carmel, please don’t give your heart to Abraham. He’ll have to marry one of the kitchen girls. Anyway, all he thinks about is machines. He comes home every night covered in grease and he’s always singing or smiling.’

‘Yeah, but that could just be because he’s so happy to be out of this dumb school,’ she muttered.

We stopped talking — there were too many kids close enough now to hear as we all headed back to our classrooms. Jemimah and Neriah waited for us to catch up. We had a ritual before we went in — the
deep breath, the careful climbing of the three steps, then the modest lowering of our eyes. It was the Rule. Faith girls must behave at all times in a seemly and godly manner.

Back at my desk, I worked on the history units. Zillah would hate doing these — they were all about missionary men who had brought the word of the Lord to the heathen at great peril to their own lives. I wished the heathen had killed the lot of them.
Lord, I pray for forgiveness for that wicked thought
.

I jumped as Sister Leah’s voice scorched through the room. ‘Sister Neriah, stop that sniffling at once. It is most unseemly.’

Neriah scrambled to her feet, knocking over her chair as she did so, and ran from the room. Jemimah was out of her seat, following her. I turned to look at Carmel — should we go too?

‘Wicked girls! Such unseemly behaviour. Resume your seats. At once, Sister Jemimah!’

Jemimah stopped but said, ‘Sister Leah, may I have your permission to assist Neriah? I fear she is unwell.’

Please, Lord, make Sister Leah give her permission
.

The ways of the Lord are mysterious. Our supervisor said, ‘No, you may not have permission. Magdalene Pilgrim, you will go. Do not linger. You both have assignments to complete.’

That woman — she took every chance to be unkind. She knew how close Jemimah and Neriah were, and she knew Jemimah would be better at comforting her than I could be.

I ran to the toilet block. She wasn’t there. I finally
found her at our tree. She was leaning against the trunk, sobbing her heart out. I didn’t try to talk to her — years of trying to comfort Zillah had taught me how useless it was to talk when solutions were impossible to find. I just put my arms around her, holding her. It was a long time before she grew calm.

‘Can you talk about it?’ I asked.

She shook her head.

‘Ready to go back to the she-wolf?’

She managed a wavery smile. ‘No, but when did that ever make any difference?’

Never. We had to obey, we had to be good, modest and seemly. I thought of Zillah and wondered how often she would howl her eyes sore about school. But I feared it was something worse than school upsetting Neriah. As we reached our classroom, I squeezed her hand. ‘I’ll pray for you.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. ‘All of you, please pray for me.’

Sister Leah scolded us for taking so long. I didn’t care. Why did Neriah need our prayers? Something was very wrong.

My mind was far from the trials of the missionaries for the rest of the morning. At noon we were released for the day. Neriah was calm as she left the room. A van was waiting behind the bus bay. ‘Father’s taking us home today,’ she said, hesitating as if she wanted to say more, then she shook her head. ‘Bye.’ She
hurried to slide the van door open for her little brothers, then got in herself without looking back.

Carmel said, ‘What’s going on? What’s wrong? Why don’t they catch the bus like always?’

‘She asked us to pray for her.’

Jemimah clasped her hands to her chest. ‘I wish we could help. I wish we could do something real.’

We watched for her to wave goodbye as the van pulled away, but she didn’t.

Our buses were waiting. Zillah was running from her classroom as if the devil was after her. She wouldn’t look at me and slapped Luke’s hand away when he tried to take hers.

He said, ‘Just as well it’s Friday.’

‘Praise the Lord.’ But Monday would come soon enough. I prayed for the weekend to bring peace to Neriah.

I followed Sharon, one of Zillah’s classmates on to the bus. She was quiet, seemly and obeyed the Rule without question. Would I want Zillah to be like her? I tussled with the question all the way to our stop. It would be easy to live with Sharon. She wouldn’t terrify me and stretch my brain the way Zillah did with her questions.

We got off the bus at our stop. How dumb to compare her to Sharon. I knew I wouldn’t change my sister even if I could. ‘You’re a huge pain in the neck, Zillah Pilgrim, but I wouldn’t swap you.’

She wriggled away from me. Too late — I’d seen her smile.

The three of us dawdled up the hill to our home.
The peace wouldn’t last, so we relished it while it did. I wondered if there was peace in Neriah’s house.

We walked past the worldly neighbours who must have helped Rebecca when she ran away instead of marrying Elder Stephen. Mother would probably be easier in her mind if all Faith families lived close together, but I thanked the Lord that we were scattered throughout the city. Elder Stephen said it was our sacred duty to show our worldly neighbours the value of living godly lives.

When we got to our front gate, Zillah said, ‘Sister Anna was trying not to cry all day. She said she had a cold, but I don’t think she’s got a cold. I think she’s worried.’

‘Something’s up all right,’ Luke said. ‘Sister Bethany stared into space for most of the morning. She didn’t even notice when Eden dropped her pencil case and pens went everywhere.’

‘Neriah ran out of class crying,’ I said. ‘Luke, what do you think is going on?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I’m guessing it’s something to do with the Elders. Come on, we’d better go inside before Mother starts preaching again.’

WE WALKED IN THE
door and our little niece came tearing out to meet us. ‘Look! I helped Grandma.’ She held a biscuit in each hand and, judging by the smears on her face, Mother had let her scrape the bowl.

Luke picked her up. ‘Good work, Hope! Are there any left for us? We are soooo hungry!’

She crammed a biscuit into his mouth. ‘I love you, Luke.’

I went to Mother, speaking quietly as I asked, ‘Is Rachel well, Mother?’

She frowned. ‘Quite well. You are such a worrier, Magdalene. You and Zillah can take Hope home after lunch and you can see for yourself. Do not tarry. There is much work to be done here.’

I wondered if Mother knew what was causing uneasiness among the people. If she did, she wouldn’t tell us — she’d preach at us instead. My own worry centred on Zillah and the heartbreak I could see ahead for her. It didn’t seem to bother Mother. I wanted to shake her.

Father and Abraham came home for lunch. And, as always, Abraham’s talk was all about the machinery he was fixing at the hire centre.

I didn’t listen. For a crazy few seconds I thought about asking Father if he’d heard anything distressing about Neriah’s family. Stupid. He wouldn’t tell me either.

Zillah’s voice broke into my thoughts. ‘Are there schools where you can learn about the tractor computers, Abraham? Can I go? When I’m as big as you?’

Father put down his knife and fork. ‘Girls do not concern themselves with such matters, Zillah. Come to the study after we have eaten. I will pray for you.’

The rest of the meal passed without further talk. Even Abraham and Hope were silent.

Mother said, ‘Go with your father now, Zillah. We will do your chores.’

I couldn’t let her endure the prayers alone. ‘Mother, may I add my prayers to Father’s?’

She gave me the first smile I’d had from her in weeks. ‘You are a good daughter, Magdalene.’

Poor Zillah — they made it plain every day that she was not a good daughter. If only they could let her be herself, they would see how dear she was. It was the Elders and the Rule that made our parents believe her to be wayward.

Zillah held my hand tightly as we followed Father to his study.

We knelt on the hard floor while he beseeched the Lord to make Zillah a good and modest daughter who would not keep grieving her mother and father.
‘Lord, I pray for this child to be a seemly and obedient daughter. I pray for you to send her the grace to behave as befits a woman. I pray she will never again ask for worldly education.’

Father was well practised in such prayers. The words rolled forth for ten long minutes. We knelt with our heads bowed, but my eyes were open and fixed on the wet patches splashing on to the floor as Zillah wept without making a sound.

Her tears worried me. She never cried when Father prayed over her. Every other time, she would bow her head and keep her eyes open, and if Father had looked he’d have seen her bottom lip sticking out a rebellious mile.

What had made today different?

There was no chance to ask her until we had tucked Hope into the pushchair and were away from the house. I said, ‘Zillah darling, you’re a good girl. I love you. Luke loves you, and so do Abraham and Rachel.’

Usually that would have been enough to make her chatter away about what was on her mind. Today, she just sighed — and no child should have to sigh the way she did right then. ‘What made you cry? Father didn’t say anything different today … Oh! It was what he said about worldly education, wasn’t it?’

She nodded, still not speaking. I felt helpless. Father would never let her go to an ordinary primary school, let alone go somewhere that taught subjects for boys.

We walked on for some minutes, she with her
shoulders slumped and her feet plodding while I struggled to find a way to comfort her. We’d turned into Rachel’s street when I pulled her to a stop. ‘Zillah, Elder Stephen might be sick unto death! That could be why everybody’s acting strange. Let’s pray he’ll die soon.’

She gave a skip. ‘He’s really old. He might die today. I’ll tell Luke and Abraham. They can pray too. I won’t tell anyone else though, because that would be dangerous, wouldn’t it, Magdalene?’

I smiled at her — and prayed for forgiveness for my wicked sin. I was so tired of worrying about sin.

Zillah ran ahead of me, but when she got to Rachel’s gate she turned and flew back to squeeze the breath from me in a hug. Then she was off again. Now it was me wanting to weep. I had no faith in things getting better even if Elder Stephen dropped down dead this very second.

Rachel greeted us with a smile. I could see she was well. Hope wriggled to get out of the pushchair, and as soon as she was released she and Zillah ran outside to play. My sister put her hands on my shoulders. ‘Something is troubling you, Magdalene?’

‘Nothing any of us can make better.’ I shouldn’t have said that — it wasn’t good for the baby if Rachel was stressed. I put my hand on Rachel’s stomach. ‘How long to go now?’

‘Twelve weeks, if the midwife is correct. Do not change the subject. Tell me what you are worrying about.’

I shrugged. ‘Zillah and school. But, Rachel, there’s
something else. Have you heard anything distressing about Neriah’s family? She was crying today but she wouldn’t say why.’

She looked surprised. ‘I have heard nothing. Oh, I pray all is well with Sister Elizabeth.’

‘Neriah said she’s tired but that’s all.’ For a moment I struggled not to say the next words, but they came anyway. ‘Rachel, why aren’t we allowed to know things? Why is it so bad to ask questions?’ I longed for her to talk to me, to speak truly from her heart. She wouldn’t. The Rule wouldn’t let her. I lifted a hand. ‘Sorry. I know why not. It’s the Rule. We have to have faith in our leaders.’

I missed the old Rachel who would have talked to me properly, and I grieved for the loss of Rebecca.

Rachel set the kettle to boil. ‘You will find it easier when you are older. Do not worry so, Magdalene.’

‘It’s not fair! You went to a proper school until you were a bit older than me. Luke had two years at a real school. Abraham got nearly six. You all learned real stuff.’ I stopped, knowing I’d cry if I kept going. I wanted to be back in Wanganui and going to the real school I’d been to for half a year when I was five.

My sister said, ‘I will pray for you.’

I busied myself getting out cups. ‘Thank you.’ I would try one more time. ‘Rachel, d’you truly believe the Lord wants us to be ignorant?’

‘Do not shorten your words, darling. The Lord wants you to speak seemly too.’ She poured milk into my cup, half-filling it the way she’d done when I was small. ‘We are the Children of the Faith, Magdalene.
We live by the Rule to keep us on the path to salvation. It is not for us to question it. We need faith, not knowledge.’

I looked at the table, not at her. ‘Yes. You are right. I’m … I am sorry.’

She gave my hand a squeeze. ‘I am to have another scan on Monday. It is so exciting seeing my baby before it is born.’

‘Could I come? And Zillah?’ I doubted Mother and Father would let us, but Zillah would be entranced by the machinery.

Rachel shook her head. ‘Darling girl, it would not be seemly for you to see such a thing. Mother will come with me.’

I thought maybe Zillah’s rebellious nature was rubbing off on me, for it was all I could do to stop shouting at her. I wanted to yell that I was tired of being seemly. I wanted to shout that I hated the drab sameness of my life. I wanted her to tell me truthfully what she believed about Elder Stephen and the Rule. I wanted her to worry with me about my sister and about Neriah.

I managed not to say any of it. Rachel was a good and godly woman now she was married. I remembered, though, how she and Rebecca had talked about all sorts of stuff when they were my age. Sometimes I’d woken and heard them whispering. I knew Rachel had once questioned the Rule — I knew she too had wanted to do and know unseemly things.

‘Have you got a name yet for the baby?’It was what I asked her every time I saw her, so it was a safe topic.

‘Maybe,’ she said. ‘We are going to wait until we see our child. We have three girls’ names and three boys’ names to choose from.’

‘You might know after the scan.’ I hoped that wasn’t an unseemly thing to say, but she laughed.

It was a most unsatisfactory visit. I cheered myself with the knowledge that Zillah had enjoyed playing with Hope, but Neriah’s heartbroken sobs echoed in my mind all the way home. It seemed a long time to wait till I saw her at worship on Sunday. Until then, all I could do was pray for her.