Being Magdalene (5 page)

‘
COME, MAGDALENE,’ MY FATHER
said. ‘If you are dressed I will take you home.’

The nurse pulled back the curtain and helped me off the bed. My legs felt uncertain but I didn’t say so. I didn’t want to be carried.

Doctor Alex said, ‘Keep those hands dry, Magdalene. Change the bandages every day. You should be fine after about a week.’ He turned to Father. ‘Keep her at home this week. Let her sleep as much as she can. No stress and no worry. And talk to her about how she feels — the worry she has over her siblings past and present.’

Father said, ‘I will pray for her.’

Doctor Alex shut his eyes. ‘Jesus wept.’

Father ignored him, opened the door and ushered me out. My feet felt heavy and disconnected from the rest of me but Father didn’t hurry me. Abraham would have picked me up and carried me to the car. It wasn’t Father’s way to do such a thing.

On the way home, I took hold of my courage. ‘Father, please may we speak of Miriam and Daniel
and Rebecca?’ I thought it would push too far to say Esther’s name, although I’d have loved to know more about how she came to live with us, and why.

Father didn’t scold me for breaking the Rule in saying the names of those who had been cast out and were dead to us. ‘Magdalene, my daughter, I beg you not to grieve the Lord by breaking the Rule. Remember always that it keeps us safe. It keeps our feet firmly on the path to salvation.’

He was so earnest, so full of concern for my immortal soul. I wished he could love me instead of the Lord. I closed my eyes.
Lord, I ask forgiveness
.

‘Magdalene? Do you understand the importance of the Rule?’

I bowed my head. ‘Yes, Father. I will pray to the Lord.’

‘Will you ask forgiveness for endangering your immortal soul?’

‘Yes, Father. I will pray and I will ask forgiveness.’ I was so tired. It was easier to give the answers he wanted.

Maybe Neriah’s father would talk to her now they were worldly. For a moment I envied her.

Abraham, Luke and Zillah were watching for us and came running the moment they saw the car. Abraham pulled open my door and scooped me up. ‘Bed for you, sis, and no arguing.’

I wasn’t going to argue and I was glad he was carrying me. So tired.

They tucked me into my bed. Mother didn’t come but Rachel did. She bent to kiss me. ‘Dear Magdalene. You will soon be well. I will pray for you. Sleep now.’

In the morning I found Zillah snuggled in beside me. I lay without trying to wake her up and persuade her to get dressed. Perhaps Father might let her stay home with me. But I must have slept again, because I woke up to hear Mother saying, ‘Up you get, girls. You will miss the bus if you do not hurry.’

I blinked at her. ‘But, Mother — the doctor said I need to stay home this week.’

She flipped the bedclothes back. ‘We do not obey the words of worldly men. Do I need to remind you of the Rule? Illness is a sign of sin. Hurry, now.’

She went away. I stayed where I was. I didn’t have the strength to cajole Zillah into getting ready for school. But she climbed out of bed and gathered up clothes for both of us. ‘I’ll help you, Magdalene. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.’

I wanted to weep. She was so young — she wouldn’t turn eight until school started again in February. ‘Thank you, darling. Love you heaps.’

She chattered as she buttoned my blouse and fastened my skirt, saying all the encouraging words I said to her every school morning. I saw now that they didn’t touch the sore places in my heart. But I knew she loved me and that was a true comfort.

Abraham was in the kitchen when we went into breakfast. Zillah threw herself at him. ‘You’re still here, Abraham!’

Mother frowned at her and Father said, ‘Zillah, kindly do not behave in such an unseemly manner.’

She dropped her head and walked to her chair. Before our father could tell her to pray for forgiveness, Abraham said, ‘Remember what I said yesterday, Zillah?’

Father set down the knife he was using to butter a piece of toast. ‘What did you tell your sister yesterday, Abraham?’

My brother pushed his chair back a little, swivelling it to face Father, who sat at the head of the table. When he spoke, the challenge was back in his voice. ‘I promised the kids I wouldn’t leave without telling them I was going.’

Neither of them saw Mother’s face go dead white, as white as my bloody blouse. I wanted to comfort her, but there was no way I could ease her pain.

Father was first to drop his gaze. ‘I would hope, my son, that you value your immortal soul enough not to do anything so foolhardy.’

Don’t say anything, Abraham. Please don’t say anything to grieve our parents.

I gave a moan as I saw him open his mouth. He whipped around to look at me, then banged the flat of his hand on the table. ‘I’ve given them my promise and I’ll stick by it. But that’s all I’m going to promise.’

Father said, ‘We will all go to the study and pray for you.’

Now it was Zillah who whimpered, and I wanted to cry too — I didn’t know if I could stay upright on my knees for a prayer session, and this would be a long one. All morning, at least.

Abraham stood up. He was perfectly calm, but it
was a calm that felt like solid steel. ‘You pray if you want to, Father. But these kids are not going to spend the day on their knees. Not today and not tomorrow. This is between you, me and the Elders. Don’t punish the kids.’

Father said, ‘It is not a punishment to pray, Abraham. However, I feel you have some justice in what you say. Your mother and I will spend time in prayer. The children may choose to add their prayers to ours if they wish.’

When none of us said we’d pray too, he spoke each of our names in turn. He began with Luke. I was so glad I wasn’t the oldest. ‘My son, will you help me plead with the Lord to set your brother’s feet firmly on the path of righteousness?’

Luke was silent and, when I sneaked a look at him, his face was thoughtful. ‘I will not pray in the study, Father,’ he said at last. ‘I will instead remind my brother of Psalm 121 and discuss its meaning with him.’

Father seemed happy with that. ‘You are a good son, Luke.’ He turned to me. ‘Magdalene, will you add your prayers to your mother’s and mine?’

A weight pressed down on me, squeezing and hurting. What could I say? And what about Zillah?

Abraham’s voice cut across my scrabbling thoughts. ‘Enough, Father. They’re not going to spend the day on their knees. I’ll drive them to school. Luke can talk about the scripture on the way.’

Father raised a hand to stop him. ‘Kindly let your sister speak for herself, my son.’

All at once, I thought of Doctor Alex Masters.
Let
her sleep
, he’d told Father.
Talk to her about things that trouble her
. Father would do none of those things and, if he’d prayed for me, it hadn’t helped. I lifted my head to look at him. ‘No, Father. Zillah and I will both pray in our hearts for Abraham. We do not need to be on our knees.’

Zillah wriggled to the edge of her chair so that she could clutch my arm.

But Father still made her speak for herself. ‘Zillah, will you come into the study and kneel in prayer with me? It is for the safety of your brother’s soul.’

Abraham gave a small cough to make Zillah look at him. He winked and shook his head.

But her hand gripped hard on my arm as she whispered, ‘No, Father. I’ll pray with Magdalene.’

Father stood up. ‘very well. I am disappointed in all of you. Zillah, if I hear you shorten your words in such an unseemly manner again you will spend the day in the discipline room. Is that clear?’

‘Yes, Father.’

Mother pushed herself up from the table. ‘Work hard at your lessons, children. Obey the Rule. Keep your feet on the path to salvation.’

The four of us watched our parents leave the room. Abraham closed the door behind them. ‘She’ll kneel on that hard floor for hours! Unbelievable!’

Zillah ran to him. ‘Abraham, will you be damned if you go away? Will you be dead to us? I don’t want you to be dead to us. I’ll pray for you. Magdalene will too, won’t you, Magdalene?’

He bent to hug her. ‘Thanks, sis — but you know
what? I reckon the only ones going to hell are the Elders. And old Elder Stephen’s going to have a big fat burning throne to sit on.’

I stared at him — did he have the same questions about Elder Stephen as I did? If so, they didn’t seem to worry him the way they did me.

His sinful comment didn’t comfort Zillah. ‘I don’t want you to die, Abraham! I don’t want you to go away and be dead to us. That will be breaking the Rule. It’s dangerous to break the Rule. Isn’t it, Magdalene?’

He gave an impatient hiss and went to leave the room.

I couldn’t bear the weight on my heart a moment longer. ‘No! Don’t go. We need to tell her. I’m sick of secrets. I’m sick of being scared every day that she doesn’t know how dangerous the Rule is.’ Breathing was hard but I kept going. ‘Tell her about Miriam and Daniel. Esther, too, and all the truth about Rebecca. Tell her!’

Zillah had taken a step towards him, but she stopped when she heard the names of our lost brother, sisters and cousin. I wanted to run to Abraham, to shake him and make him see, but I was so tired. ‘She needs to know why they got banished. She needs to know what can happen if you don’t obey the Rule. And she needs to know you don’t die when you get banished.’ I put my head down on the table, crying yet again and too ashamed to tell them how often I woke up believing them all to be dead and burning in hell.

Their voices swirled above my head. Zillah:
What? Tell me! Who are
…

Abraham:
Sweet Jesus!

Luke:
She’s right, Abraham
.

More talk, then Abraham was carrying me once more and we were all in the car.

‘Are we running away?’ I asked. It was so hard to think.

Abraham gave a harsh snort of laughter. ‘I wish! I’m taking you to McDonald’s. We’re going to eat hamburgers and fries.’

That was against a million Rules.

‘Will that make us dead?’ Zillah asked, but she sounded curious, not upset.

Luke answered her. ‘No, but we’ll have to pray a lot if Father finds out.’

Zillah said, ‘I don’t care. I want to go to McDonald’s and eat a hamburger. What’s a hamburger, Abraham? Who are Miriam and Daniel and Esther? Can I have a hot chocolate too? I know who Rebecca is. Were they her friends? I’m very hungry, Abraham.’

‘We’ll eat,’ Luke said, ‘and then we’ll tell you everything.’

Praise the Lord.

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 workshop?’

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.’