Being Magdalene (3 page)

AFTER DINNER THAT EVENING,
Abraham said to Zillah, ‘I’ll swap jobs with you tonight, if you like.’

What? Abraham offering to dry dishes? But Zillah scampered off to help Luke take out the rubbish and clean all the shoes for the next day.

‘Are you ill?’ I shook my hand free of soap suds to lay it against his forehead.

‘Cheeky brat.’ He cuffed my hand away. ‘Listen, Magdalene — you know the kitchen girls better than I do. Which one should I marry?’

I dropped a plate back into the water, I was so surprised. ‘Abraham! I can’t tell you who to marry!’

‘Don’t want you to,’ he said. ‘Just tell me if there’s one of them I
shouldn’t
marry.’

‘Ask Luke. It’s a whole year since they were in my classroom.’

‘Luke’s a boy so not a reliable witness,’ he said. ‘Start with Bernice. She’s the prettiest one.’

Ha! He’d noticed, had he! She was more than pretty; she was beautiful — big dark eyes and the most
gorgeous skin. I used the words from the betrothal ceremony. ‘She is good and kind and seemly.’

‘But?’

‘I think you would upset her.’ I looked over my shoulder to make sure neither of our parents could hear. ‘She obeys the Rule and she
likes
living by it. But you …’

He flicked the tea towel in my direction. ‘Okay, got you. I’m too much of a heathen for the lovely Bernice. What about Eden?’

I sighed. ‘She’s quiet. Good. Cried whenever Sister Leah growled at her.’

‘Adina? What’s she like?’

‘I like her. She’s kind. She shortens her words when it’s just us kids around.’ I shut my mouth, not wanting to be horrible about her.

‘Come on, kid. You’re the only one I can ask. Tell me what’s bugging you.’

‘She giggles a lot. Sister Leah used to get furious with her, but Adina didn’t seem able to stop doing it.’ These were terrible things to say and would only get worse, because truly I didn’t think any of the kitchen girls would suit my rather carefree brother.

‘That leaves Jewel and Mercy,’ he said. ‘How about one of them?’

‘Not Mercy. She’s Bernice’s best friend and they’re very similar. I like Jewel. She’s nice, but she’s very gentle, Abraham. She got upset whenever anybody else got in trouble. She didn’t cry when she got growled at though.’ I handed him a dripping saucepan. ‘She will probably be best.’

He tapped the saucepan against my behind. ‘Good info, kid. You’re a star.’

‘Abraham — do you want to be married?’ I couldn’t imagine him being a husband and the father of many children.

‘Don’t want to live for ever with the parents.’ He clattered the pot into the cupboard. ‘I’ll choose Jewel. She sounds like she’s got a bit of spirit.’

I grabbed his arm. ‘Abraham, what can we do about Zillah? She cried when Father prayed for her today.’

He sent another saucepan after the first. ‘Luke and me — we talk about it all the time. Can’t see any way forward yet. Try not to stress, sis. You’re a good kid.’ He bent and whispered in my ear. ‘Old Stephen might turn up his toes, with a bit of luck. That could change everything.’

I gave a choke of laughter. ‘I told Zillah we’d all pray for that next time Father prayed for her.’

‘Awesome.’With a farewell flick of the tea towel, he headed for the door.

‘Abraham, wait a second. Neriah was really upset today and they didn’t catch the bus either. Their father took them in the van. Have you heard anything?’

‘Not a whisper. I’ll tell you if I do.’

At prayers that evening, I asked Father, ‘Please will you pray for Neriah and her family? Something is weighing on her heart.’

‘Do you know what is troubling her?’

‘No, Father. She could not talk about it.’

‘I will add your friend and her family to my prayers.’

Zillah sighed and I felt a flash of guilt for making the prayer time longer. We four children bowed our heads but kept our eyes open. Once, Abraham had caught a mouse, waiting till evening prayers to release it.

Father was still praying for the salvation of the world when we heard Elder Stephen call, ‘Praise the Lord,’ as he opened the front door.

We stayed on our knees, gaping at him. As far as I knew, he’d never been in our house before. Mother was the first to recover. She began clambering to her feet. Luke sprang up to help her. Father was the last to rise.

Elder Stephen said, ‘I apologise, Brother Caleb, for interrupting your time of worship.’

Mother got all fluttery and busy. ‘Please sit down, Elder Stephen. You do us a great honour. May I make you a cup of tea?’

He took the chair she pulled out for him and ignored the bit about tea. ‘Brother Caleb, I come on a most serious matter.’

‘I will assist in any way I can,’ Father said.

Mother said, ‘Yes, of course. Children, go to your rooms.’

Our leader held up a hand. ‘One moment. Brother Caleb, the matter bringing me to your house concerns your daughter Magdalene.’

Mother clapped her hands to her face. ‘What has she done?’ She whipped round to glare at me. ‘Wicked child! How can you shame us so?’

‘I have not done wrong! I have not transgressed. I
have not.’ I spoke to Father — he might believe me, I prayed he would. Zillah pressed herself against me. Luke took my hand. Abraham stood behind me, his hands on my shoulders.

Father said, ‘With respect, Elder Stephen, how does the serious matter you speak of concern my daughter?’

Our leader gave a deep and melancholy sigh. I didn’t believe in the truth of his sorrow, even though I was terrified about what might be coming. ‘Magdalene Pilgrim, Sister Leah says you talked privately with Neriah virtue today.’

I gulped in a breath. ‘Please, is she all right? She was very distressed.’

He gazed at me for long, silent moments. Mother plonked on to a chair. ‘Have you brought shame upon us, you wicked girl?’

Father placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Wife, we must wait until we understand what has happened before we judge our daughter to have transgressed. Magdalene, explain, if you please.’

It was difficult to speak. The three of them watched me. I tried several times before I could get words out. ‘I do not understand. There is nothing to explain. Neriah was crying. Sister Leah scolded her. She ran outside and Sister Leah told me to go and assist her.’ I looked at Father. ‘I obeyed.’

Elder Stephen paused for another of his long silences. He might as well have shouted to the city that he believed me to be a liar, a transgressor and a rotten sinner. At last he said, ‘But that is not all, is it, Sister Magdalene? You talked to Neriah virtue, did you not?
You spoke about why she was distressed. Sister Leah reports that you were gone for quite ten minutes. What did she tell you?’ He snapped the last sentence at me.

Abraham tightened his hold on my shoulders. ‘Courage, little sister,’ he muttered.

I raised my head. ‘We did not speak. I tried to comfort her by just being with her. She cried for a long time, and when she was calm I asked if she could talk about her trouble. She shook her head and we went back to class. I speak the truth. The Lord is my witness. What has happened to her? Please, tell me.’

He didn’t believe me.
Please, Lord, help me
.

‘Thank you, daughter,’ my father said. ‘You were a true friend to a distressed girl.’

Elder Stephen made a chopping motion with his hand. ‘No, Brother Caleb, she was not. Did you not think, girl, that it was your duty to discover what was causing the distress? You should have reported your failure to Sister Leah, who would have succeeded where you did not. As it is, you have grievously failed that unhappy girl and you have brought damnation upon her family. There will be consequences. It is my heavy duty to warn you that such dereliction of duty cannot go unpunished.’

Mother’s moans rose into a wailing cry, but I couldn’t say a word to defend myself. It didn’t matter. Elder Stephen wouldn’t believe me anyway.

He turned to go, but Abraham, his fingers digging into my shoulders, said, ‘One moment, Elder Stephen. With respect —’ he didn’t sound one scrap respectful — ‘I need to make sure I understand, because it seems
to me that the Rule has changed. Is that correct?’

‘No. It is most disrespectful of you to suggest such a thing. The Rule comes from the Lord. Do not question it.’ His voice was full of hate and venom.

Abraham wasn’t bothered. ‘Okay. Good. So the Rule says a man’s deeds are between him and his conscience, does it not?’

‘You know it does. This has nothing to do with the matter in hand.’

I closed my eyes, unable to look at our leader’s accusing face.

Abraham said, ‘So you are going to punish Magdalene for
obeying
that Rule? You are saying she should have broken the Rule, ferreted out her friend’s secret and then told about it? Told who? Sister Leah? You? How was she meant to get hold of you, by the way?
We
do not have a telephone.’

Mother sat at the table holding her head, swaying and keening. Father said, ‘That will do, my son. However, you are right to remind us of the teaching of the Rule. Elder Stephen, I ask you to explain my daughter’s transgression in this matter.’

I couldn’t raise my eyes. I didn’t know silence could shout. I didn’t know it could be thick and choking. It was broken by Elder Stephen’s footsteps, by the noise of the door opening and closing behind him. I collapsed on to the floor. Mother was shouting at me, Zillah crouched beside me. ‘Don’t cry, Magdalene. Please don’t cry.’

Father’s voice cut through the racket. ‘Abraham, thank you for reminding us of the Rule. We all need
time to pray and reflect. Please go to your rooms, my children.’

‘He didn’t even tell me what’s wrong. He didn’t even tell me if she’s all right.’

Luke said, ‘He spoke about damnation. It must mean Neriah’s father has taken his family out of the Faith.’

‘No!’ I looked up at Father. ‘Please — no. Not left. Not gone and damned?’

Father said heavily, ‘I fear your brother is correct, my daughter. It can be the only explanation.’

‘No. Not that. Please.’ I was five years old again, my world collapsing around me. Miriam gone, then just weeks later Daniel and Esther too. Rebecca gone four years ago. And now Neriah. My friend was damned and dead to me.

Father was speaking. His words didn’t make sense. I stayed crouched on the floor, listening to somebody saying
no no no
over and over.

The boys pulled me to my feet and half-carried me into our bedroom, where Luke wrapped blankets around me. He and Zillah sat on either side of me on my bed while Abraham strode around the room, swearing and cursing our leader, but quietly enough that our parents wouldn’t hear.

Zillah’s eyes grew rounder and rounder. His fury helped me believe I’d done nothing wrong. The sick feeling faded. The weight on my heart now was for my friend.

Luke was frowning. ‘Abraham, chill, bro. Our revered leader will be after your blood. You’ll have to watch out.’

Abraham snorted. ‘Like I care. But yeah, you’re right. We’ll all have to watch our step. He’ll be after us any chance he can grab.’

‘I don’t get it though,’ Luke said. ‘It can’t be just about Rebecca ditching him. He’s had four years to get over that.’

Abraham plonked himself down on the rug between our beds. ‘Good thinking, brother. It’s gotta be something else that’s riled him. Could be something about one of the businesses. Or somebody worldly doing a rant against the Faith. I’ll find out. I’ve got a worldly mate I can ask.’

‘Will you tell us, Abraham?’ Zillah asked.

‘Of course I’ll bloody tell you!’

‘Don’t get mad,’ Luke said. ‘She’s a kid. Nobody tells us kids anything.’

Abraham leaned over to tug her foot. ‘Sorry, sis. Magdalene, how’re you doing?’

‘Better. I’ll be all right. It’s good to talk.’

Father knocked on the door. ‘My sons, please leave your sisters. All of us will benefit from prayer and quiet reflection.’

‘Like hell we will,’Abraham whispered, but he and Luke obeyed our father and left us alone.

SATURDAY. NO SCHOOL, BUT
a day of housework and grocery shopping. Mother didn’t say anything about Elder Stephen’s visit. She didn’t apologise for doubting me either, but when we went into the supermarket I expected her to tell me to choose a treat. She’d done that when Father had accused Rachel and Rebecca of lying when they’d told him the truth about something.

But there was no treat for me. I wanted to shout at her, tell her she shouldn’t have believed ill of me. I wanted her to be kind and loving again. I wanted Father to protect me if Elder Stephen preached about me at worship the next day. My stomach hurt.

We collected the grocery items for Mother and stood in line with her at the checkout. Father stayed in the car.

On the way home, Zillah asked, ‘Father, will Elder Stephen punish Magdalene? He said he would. He was really angry.’

‘No. He will not,’ our father said. ‘Your brother
helped him to understand he could not punish her for obeying the Rule.’

His answer satisfied her, but pain jabbed harder at my stomach. Elder Stephen had many ways of punishing those he didn’t like.

On Sunday morning, Mother woke me as usual at 5.30 to help prepare the food to take for the worship meals. She seemed to have put our leader’s strange behaviour out of her mind. I couldn’t work out why she looked so happy until she asked, ‘Daughter, tell me about the kitchen girls. Your brother needs a godly girl of strong character. She will need to show him the importance of obeying the Rule in all things.’

What to say? While I was dithering, she answered her own question. ‘Of course, they are all godly young women. Bernice would make him an excellent wife. Or Mercy. Either of them would be able to keep his thoughts turned to the Lord.’

‘Yes, Mother. They are both good girls. They live by the Rule. But the other girls are godly and seemly too.’

I made the sandwiches and kept my true thoughts to myself. Mother sang hymns, then stopped in the middle of one to stare into space. After a bit, she said, ‘I will give him a scripture to guide him.’ She swished from the room, reciting, ‘
Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding
.’

What was
wrong
with her? If she stopped to think, she’d realise Abraham wouldn’t relish being woken at
6.15 on a Sunday. But, when she came back a few minutes later, she was singing again. My brother must have been kind to her.

At seven I woke Zillah and helped her get dressed. ‘Why do we have to go to worship?’ she said. ‘I don’t like Elder Stephen.’

‘Remember — we’re going to pray for him to drop down dead.’

That earned me a smile, but she said, ‘You’re not a sinner. I’m not and Luke’s not.’ She paused to think. ‘Abraham might be, but he’s a good sinner if he is.’

No, our brother wasn’t seemly and obedient. He would be breaking the Rule in asking a worldly man to help him find out the reason for Elder Stephen’s rage. It was lucky for my brother that Father so appreciated his work in the business. It was why he got away with disobedience and unseemliness, transgressions we girls would be disciplined for. I couldn’t understand how Mother thought a godly girl would change him. Abraham was a happy person — marriage to a truly obedient Faith girl would be misery for both of them.

Elder Stephen believed happiness must not be our goal in life. He said we must walk the thorny path to salvation. He said our Lord endured much for us, so we must shoulder our burdens and bless Him for giving them to us.

I didn’t want burdens. I wanted to be happy. I wanted the pains in my stomach to vanish for ever. I hated being worried and afraid every second of the day.

Mother called from the kitchen, ‘Hurry, Magdalene! I have asked you twice to put the sandwiches in the car.’

I took my time, stacking the containers in the boot, then reorganising them. As I came back inside, Zillah ran to me to whisper, ‘Obedience.’

It was the game we played during worship. We’d pick a word, and every time Elder Stephen said it we’d squeeze each other’s hand. ‘Obedience is too easy,’ I said. He brought obedience into every sermon, even the ones about death. ‘Pick something harder.’

‘Okay. I’ll think of one before we get to worship.’

I wouldn’t let myself dwell on words such as
punishment, transgression, grievous harm, damnation
.

Zillah was quiet as Abraham drove us all to the temple, then as we walked in behind our parents she said, ‘Solemn.’

‘That’s a good one.’ I would be especially glad of the game today. I wanted a focus for my thoughts — something to block out the certainty that our leader would find some way to punish me.

Carmel and Jemimah came running to meet me, tugging me away from my family. ‘Neriah’s gone,’ Jemimah said, her voice breaking. ‘They’ve left the Faith.’

So it was true. I couldn’t speak.

Carmel gestured at the people. ‘Look at them. They’re all talking about it while they still can.’

Jemimah said, ‘She should have said something. I wish she’d told me.’

I found my voice. ‘She knew we’d be in trouble if she did. She protected us. She was brave.’ I told them about Elder Stephen’s visit.

‘Why would he accuse you like that?’ Carmel
asked. ‘That’s nuts. It’s really stupid, even for …’ Her voice trailed off as she remembered where we were.

There wasn’t time to say more. The music was playing — the signal to stop talking. Usually, I loved the first part of worship days. The people danced together in the big hall, then we all joined together in song. I loved the singing especially — I felt so free, all my worries shut out by the music. Today I was too beset by them to enjoy anything.

When it was time to stop for morning tea, the adults went to the dining room to sit at the tables where the kitchen girls had set out sandwiches, scones, biscuits and slices of cake. The feeling in the room was strange. Everyone seemed on edge. Some of the married men looked grim, but others seemed pleased about something. The women talked in small groups, glancing around to check for who might hear them. Surely Elder Stephen wouldn’t punish me when he had other, real topics to be angry about.

As was the custom, the oldest unmarried girl in each family went to the servery to get cups of tea for her parents. I stood in line behind Zillah’s classmate Joy who was really too young to be carrying two cups of hot tea, but her heavily pregnant mother was looking weary and uncomfortable.

Bernice poured the tea for her. ‘Can you manage, Joy?’

Before I could offer to help, an unwed girl called Talitha was there, smiling at the child as she said, ‘Let us do it together, Joy.’

Talitha had been a good friend to Rebecca after
the trouble about her broken betrothal, but she herself had refused the marriage the Elders had arranged for her. She didn’t appear to regret her decision.

I was jerked back to the task I was supposed to be doing when Bernice said, ‘Magdalene, the tea is ready for you.’ She pushed the two full cups towards me, murmuring as she did so, ‘Will you tell Abraham I wish him well?’

I was puzzled. Why was she was blushing? ‘I will give him your message.’

But when I told Abraham he choked on his drink and said a curse word under his breath.

‘What’s the matter?’

For a moment I thought he wasn’t going to answer, but he said, ‘That message — she’s telling me she hopes I’ll ask her to be my wife.’

I stared at him, horrified. ‘What will you do?’

He shrugged. ‘Dunno. You’d better go. Father’s got his stern look on.’

I took his cup, collected Mother’s and Father’s, and carried them back to the servery. Eden took them, and said quietly, ‘You are lucky to have Abraham for a brother.’

I smiled and nodded. Was that a secret message as well?

Apparently it was, for he looked gloomy and said, ‘She’s the giggler, isn’t she?’

‘No. Eden is the one who cried when Sister Leah growled at her.’ She cried at any little thing as well, and being married to Abraham would cause her many tears. I felt bad, knowing the pain my brother’s decision would cause.

Back in the hall, there was more singing until the kitchen girls finished the dishes.

They filed in, eyes lowered as they joined their families. Then our leader walked to the lectern. He always saved the betrothal permission announcement until the very end of his endless sermons.

I sat in my usual place between Luke and Zillah. She squeezed my hand, giving me a grin to remind me:
solemn
. I tried to slow my breathing, tried to think of Bernice and Eden, tried to stop being terrified of judgement and punishment. I would pray for Neriah. Our leader would forbid it, but I would do it when we had to stand while he prayed for those he deemed worthy.

As he always did, he made us wait for his words while he gazed out at us with his sorrowful expression. His eyes settled on me. Pain gripped my stomach. It was hard to breathe. Mother leaned past Luke to glare at me. Why wouldn’t she believe me? Father knew I hadn’t transgressed.
Lord, help me
.

At last Elder Stephen began speaking. ‘My people, today is a most solemn occasion.’ Zillah squeezed my hand. ‘Your Elders have prayed over the names of the young people who will carry a future generation along the path to salvation. It will be my sacred duty to tell you those names once I have brought you the word of the Lord.’

I closed my eyes. His punishment would be sneaky and mean. For the first time, I paid attention to his
words, but there was nothing in the dreary sermon that meant trouble for me. At the end, he paused the way he always did before he began on the betrothal announcements. It was a longer pause than usual. People stirred in their seats. Children scuffed their feet on the floor. Fear brought the pains back to my stomach.
Please, Lord, make him die
.

He began speaking again. ‘My people, it is my heavy duty to tell you of a most grievous and distressing transgression by one of our congregation.’

I slumped in my seat. Luke held my arm and Zillah’s hand crushed mine. Mother glared at me and let out a hiss of anger.

‘My people, our erstwhile brother Jedidiah virtue has left the Faith. Worse than that, he has taken his hapless wife and children with him. From this day forward we will not speak their names. They are dead to us — dead, doomed and damned.’

He stopped to let the shocked murmuring grow quiet. I kept my eyes closed, praying he’d say no more.
Please, Lord, help me. You are my strength and salvation
. Of course he said more. The people were so quiet I could hear the buzzing of an insect. I prayed for it to be a wasp. I prayed it would sting our leader dead.

He wound up by repeating, ‘We will not utter the names of any of that accursed family ever again. It is a sin to do so. It is against the Rule.’

Again we had to wait until he sighed and began the betrothal announcements. I let myself relax. He wasn’t going to punish me. Abraham had saved me. I let Elder Stephen’s words about the sanctity of marriage
pass over me but, even so, I couldn’t help noticing how he seemed determined to make a drama out of something that held no surprises. We all knew the girls would be those who worked in the kitchen on worship days, and we knew the boys would be those like Abraham who were eighteen years old.

Zillah clutched my hand tightly as Elder Stephen began reading the list of the young men. ‘Brother Simeon, you have the permission of the Elders and the Lord to choose a wife.’

‘Praise the Lord,’ we all said.

He went on through the list.
Titus
.

‘Praise the Lord.’

Noah
.

‘Praise the Lord.’

Joab
.

‘Praise the Lord.’

Philemon
.

‘Praise the Lord.’

‘Brothers, you may each choose a wife from Sisters Eden, Bernice, Mercy, Adina and Jewel. Praise the Lord.’

He hadn’t read out Abraham’s name. He had left my brother’s name off the list. He wasn’t punishing me. He was punishing Abraham for helping me.