My Story (16 page)

Barzee lifted her eyes, paying close attention now. She liked it when I defied him, at least a part of her did. Sometimes she got tired of playing second fiddle, and I think she was hoping he would put me in my place.

“Why did you take me? Why do this to me?” I asked a final time.

Mitchell took a deep breath, as if he were forcing himself to be patient with a slow child. “We’ve been through this a thousand times before.”

I slowly shook my head, which instantly made him angry.

“You are lucky, Esther,” he sneered. “Don’t forget that. God could have chosen another girl, but out of His great goodness He chose you.”

It’s a good thing that I didn’t believe him or I would have hated God forever.

“You would do well to show a little gratitude,” he sneered again.

I didn’t know what to say. Moments passed in angry silence until he went on. His voice was softer now. “I didn’t
want
to do this, Esther. I didn’t want to take you. It wasn’t my idea. But God spoke. I had to listen.” He stopped a moment, his eyes looking down. “I am His prophet, Esther, his mouthpiece here on Earth. When He commands, I must obey. He could command me to move this mountain, and I would do it. He could command me to part the seas, and it would be done. Do you think I could deny Him if He commanded me to take a virgin and to save her from the world? I am nothing but a servant, and when He speaks I must obey.”

He seemed to deflate, as if he were weary from carrying some extraordinary weight. His face sagged with sadness. “I didn’t ask for this great calling, Esther. In fact, I tried to deny it. I begged God to let this calling pass. And for a time, He did. But the world has reached a point where God couldn’t let me delay any longer. He has called me once again and this time I must reply.

“It’s a heavy burden, Esther, a very heavy load. But you can help me. Do you see that? When you serve me, you’re serving God. And think of that great honor. Out of the entire world, the Lord has called you. You are a handmaiden to the Chosen. That is such a blessing, Esther. You get to serve the servant of the Lord.”

He fell silent, his statement of authority complete.

I was sitting on my bucket looking down at the tiny branch that was still struggling against the summer heat. I touched it with my fingers. Keep going, little guy! Don’t give up, I thought.

“You know there are more to come,” Mitchell said.

I lifted my eyes to look at him.

“I have been commanded to take seven additional wives. You are only the first. All of the others are young and malleable. Young girls that I can mold into proper servants. Believe me, I have learned that they can’t be so old that they will fight me. They can’t be so old that they will fight the will of God.”

*

It was true. I wasn’t the first girl Brian David Mitchell had decided he had to take. Neither was I his first attempt at having a second wife.

A few years before he kidnapped me, Mitchell had approached another woman about joining him and Barzee in their marriage. Of course, you don’t jump into a long-term commitment like polygamy without taking each other for a little spin to test things out, so he ended up moving in with the woman, an African-American named Kelly. But Barzee finally put a stop to it when Kelly insisted on having Mitchell to herself. (The idea of two women fighting over Mitchell is so absurd that I can barely comprehend it, but such was the insanity that I lived with every day.) Worse than the fact that Kelly wanted Mitchell for herself was her refusal to honor Barzee as the senior wife, or to recognize her in her exalted role as the “Mother of Zion,” whatever that meant. Angry at the lack of respect, Barzee had argued that Kelly was not chosen of God and demanded that Mitchell end the relationship. Her husband relented for a while but then snuck back to sleep with Kelly again. At this point, Barzee ripped Mitchell from the relationship. But after some pleading and praying and explaining, Mitchell convinced her once again that his relationship with Kelly had been sanctified by God. Willing to give it another go, and always wanting to please her husband, Barzee had agreed to go with Mitchell down to Kelly’s apartment so they could invite her to come and stay with them up at their campground in the mountains. But their intentions hit a snag when they found Kelly with another man. Mitchell was furious that she would betray him. Barzee was furious that the other woman would show such disrespect to her man. Spitting with anger, they withdrew the offer of marriage and left.

So ended the sordid Kelly affair.

But Mitchell hadn’t given up on finding another wife. Soon after, he received a new revelation. He was not to take one wife, but seven. And he was to focus on young girls, those who would be less likely to get involved with another man. And they needed to be pure. And from a Mormon home. Knowing what he wanted, but not having given any thought as to how he was going to get it, he simply found a young girl he fancied and followed her on the bus one day. Noticing that he was following her, the girl had waited until the last second at one of the bus stops, then suddenly jumped off, leaving him on the bus as it drove away.

After Mitchell had told me this story, I often thought of that girl. Good for you! I thought. You did the smart thing. I am glad you got away.

But part of me had to wonder why I had to be the one who was cabled to the trees.

*

I rarely got a chance to talk. Mitchell did all of that. Days. Weeks. Months of listening to him go on and on. But sometimes even he couldn’t keep it up and there would be a lull in the one-sided conversation. Sometimes he would even ask me a question. It was extraordinarily rare, but sometimes I got to talk about something that I wanted to talk about. Which was always my family. It was the only thing I cared about. The only thing I ever thought about. I was desperate to keep their memories clear in my mind. Even if they had moved on—and I had accepted that they had—I had not moved on. They were my only hope. My only joy. The only thing I lived for was the thought that one day I might return to them.

But Mitchell hated it when I talked about my family. He hated it if I even mentioned them in passing. It was as if I were talking about something so foul and disgusting that it had to be avoided at all costs. (This from a guy who was pretty hard to disgust.) Whenever I mentioned my family, he would instantly get angry. “Get past it, Esther! You have to move on! This is your life now. You have to let your former life go! I don’t want to hear about them, Esther. Not now. Not tomorrow. Never again!”

One day toward the middle of July, Mitchell was complaining about his mother. She had been granted a restraining order against him after he had pushed her down a flight of stairs, and it made him angry that he couldn’t go near her anymore. As part of the conversation, he mentioned where she lived.

“My cousin Olivia lives in that neighborhood,” I said without thinking. “She and I were very close.” Realizing what I had said, I flinched against his coming anger at the mention of my family. But he didn’t rip my head off like I thought that he would. I waited longer. He didn’t say anything. I felt elated. He was going to let me talk! “We used to play together in her yard. She has a great swing in one of the trees in her front yard. And a small tree house in the pear tree. I loved being there. We’d have such fun together.”

Mitchell seemed to think. “I know that house,” he said. “It is very near my mom’s house. Yellow paint, right?”

I was so excited to think about my cousin. “Yeah, yeah, the yellow house. Olivia and I were very close. We’re the same age, you know. I would play with her and my other cousins all the time. In the tree house. On the swing.”

Surprisingly, Mitchell allowed me to go on. It was like Christmas morning. I could talk about my family! I described the times that we had played together, the things that we would do, more about where they lived.

I had no idea that I had betrayed my cousin until the next day.

*

Mitchell came out of the tent in the morning. I was already up and so was Barzee. He wandered over to the small container we used to store our food and poked around inside but didn’t take anything out to eat. Straightening up, he looked at me and forced a smile, which made me nervous.

“I have to tell you something, Esther.”

I felt the familiar feeling of my stomach falling.

“You’re not going to like it.”

I was already braced. But the truth was, there was very little he could say or do to me that would have shocked me any longer. I didn’t feel anything anymore. The soul that lived inside me had been pushed so far down that everything I did was simply going through the motions.

But even though I had retreated, I knew that something new was coming and I was sick with dread.

“The Lord has commanded me to go out again.” He kept his snake eyes on me. “He has commanded me to go and take Olivia to be my next wife. I’m going to go and get her and bring her back here.”

The blood rushed from my brain. I felt like I was going to fall over. I had to steady myself as I stifled a scream.

I had planted the idea. I had betrayed my own cousin by the things I had said.

I felt the crushing weight of utter despair.

*

Mitchell knew from experience that it was going to take planning and preparation to get what he wanted. He spent a week or so putting the plan in place.

He decided that he was going to kidnap Olivia on July 24, a state holiday commemorating the day the Mormon pioneers made their way into the Salt Lake Valley. He knew there would be lots of traffic and parades and parties and city fireworks that night. The police would be preoccupied, leaving him a little more slack to do his evil thing.

Thinking of what he was going to do made me sick with guilt. What would Olivia think when she was dragged into camp and saw me here? She would know I had betrayed her! She would know it was my fault. How could I ever face her? How could she ever forgive me? And if the police ever came to rescue us, would they think it was my fault too? Would I be sent to jail for helping Mitchell with this terrible crime? I know that sounds ridiculous, but I was young. And thoroughly brainwashed about how the safety of my family was my responsibility.

Then I had the worst thought of all: What if she was hurt, or even murdered, while Mitchell was trying to kidnap her? The fact that I had planted the idea in Mitchell’s mind was almost more than I could bear.

But I have to admit that there was a tiny bit of me—a very tiny bit—that wanted her there with me. Together, we could find a way to escape! We would have each other. It wouldn’t be so bad. But whenever I thought of this, I felt guilty. I knew my secret wish was incredibly selfish. There was no way I could wish this upon anyone.

*

The morning of July 24 finally came. Mitchell spent the day preparing for his crime. He packed his two green packs and tied them together with the same piece of dirty cloth that he had used on the night he came to get me. Although he didn’t show me the deadly knife, I knew he had it with him. He ate and then rested, knowing he had a long, hard night ahead of him. First he had to hike down into the city. Then he’d take a bus to the southeastern section of the valley. After kidnapping Olivia, he’d have to climb up Big Cottonwood Canyon, a canyon that leads to some of Utah’s most aggressive ski terrain. Big Cottonwood is also famous among mountain climbers for its steep granite walls. The canyon is rimmed with so many sheer granite cliffs that in most places it would be impossible to climb. And he’d have to do it with a terrified prisoner in tow. Olivia would be thinking of me. She would think I had been killed. Armed with that information, surely she would be more aggressive in trying to escape.

Once they made it to the top of the mountain, Mitchell would have to drag Olivia north across the ridgelines for … I didn’t know … ten or fifteen miles. I knew how exhausting and time consuming all of this was going to be.

All morning, Mitchell tried to act as if a terrible burden had been placed upon his shoulders.
God has commanded me. I must obey. But it is so difficult. So difficult. Not what I want to do at all. But I must pass another test of faith, for I am the prophet of the Lord.

But I knew it was all an act. And he was acting it very poorly. He couldn’t keep the lusty smile from his face. It was obvious that he was keyed up and full of anxious energy. He was going to get another child. Another wife. Another toy. And as I watched him, I realized that he would never be satisfied. The evil that was inside him would always make him lust for more.

My heart raced as I watched him pick up the two sacks and throw them across his back.
Olivia, I’m so sorry!
I was crying in my head.
Please, God, please protect her! Please, God, make him fail in this thing. I will do anything if You will spare her from what I am living through every day.

*

All day long I waited. Too sick to eat, I sat on my bucket and prayed. I begged and cried and pleaded with God to protect my cousin. If Barzee was concerned, she didn’t show it, though she did seem a little more terse than normal. She went about her daily routine, then sat and read and sewed and prepared a small meal. The day passed more slowly than any day in my life, the afternoon sun dragging across the gray sky. Afternoon passed, and then the evening. Night came. We waited. Barzee was getting nervous now. It grew late. Still no Mitchell. We waited. We went to bed. I didn’t sleep. Midnight. The moonlight lit the trees around us in a pale, white light. Early morning came. We were in our tent. He’s not coming back! I thought. He didn’t get Olivia! He’s been captured. He’s is prison right now.

Lifting up on one elbow, I looked across the tent at Barzee, feeling suddenly terrified while imagining what might have happened. He got caught. But he isn’t going to tell them about us. He isn’t going to betray his wife. He’ll be silent. He’ll give her time to escape. He’ll give her time to get out of town, to get on a bus and leave the state. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. And he certainly won’t tell the police about me! No way he’ll volunteer the fact that he has me cabled up here in the trees.