The Book of the Unnamed Midwife (20 page)

When the room quieted, he began to speak, gently. “As you all know, all our recent missionaries have returned except the last two. Elders Langdon and Obermeyer were assigned to Colorado to serve a mission. They have not returned on the appointed date, but we know they will be back soon, with the help of Heavenly Father.”

Across the room from him, Sister Obermeyer put her face in her hands and started to cry.

Graves cleared his throat. “Despite the setbacks we have experienced, we know that the directive to complete a mission is still asked of us, and we must fulfill it. We know this to be true with every fiber of our being. So today, we call forth six new missionaries to serve.”

The room tensed up. She swept her eyes across the faces around her, looking for Chet. He was there, pink in the cheeks with his eyes full of fear. The moment seemed to stretch out for a long time before Graves spoke again.

“Elder Cubner and Elder Grim.”

Two young men rose from the same table and waited.

“You are called to Flagstaff, Arizona.”

They both sat down again, slowly.

“Elder Behr and Elder Smith.”

A fat teenager arose at Dusty’s table and another across the room joined him. The other missionary seemed older, maybe twenty-five.

“You are called to serve in Albuquerque, New Mexico.”

The older man sat down fast, disappearing from view. The chubby kid sunk slowly, his lower lip quivering. No one near him touched him or looked at him or said a word.

“Elder Anderson and Elder Flint. You are called to serve your mission in Billings, Montana.”

Chet had stood with his back to her and she couldn’t see his face. The tension in the room relaxed slightly.

“All those who will sustain these brothers in their callings, please indicate by the uplifted hand.” Comstock looked out over the room and everyone lifted their right hands as though they were taking an oath. Dusty, startled, didn’t move. She didn’t understand what she was seeing. She watched Jodi Obermeyer raise her hand, still sobbing.

“We believe that Heavenly Father will protect you and help you reach your intended destination. We believe that you will render aid along the way out of the goodness of your hearts. We believe that you will meet women and children and offer them succor. We believe you can lead those who belong here back to Zion. We believe you will return with honor.”

Jodi Obermeyer sobbed aloud.

Graves ignored her. “The missionaries will leave tomorrow, so tonight will be their farewell dinner. Let us all show them love and kindness and keep them in our prayers.”

The women had shushed Sister Obermeyer and taken her back into the kitchen. Dusty did not see her at dinner.

There was an announcement during dessert that Brother Dusty had been allowed to go homesteading in Eden, but he would stay available for medical help if needed. He would be taken home by Brother Chalmers in the morning, and they were to wish him well. Dusty raised a hand to them but didn’t speak. She didn’t care. She was ready to go. Afterward, when the room began to empty out, Dusty headed straight for Chet’s house.

She reached it before him and let herself in. She found her bag where she had left it, but the house spotlessly restored to order. She waited, pacing.

Chet walked through the door minutes later, with another boy his age.

“Chet.”

“Brother Dusty, this is Elder Flint. And I’m Elder Anderson now. You heard.”

“I did. I need to talk to you.” She cut her eyes toward Elder Flint.

Chet shrugged. “He can’t leave. We have to stay within sight of each other for the next six months. Whatever it is, you can say it to us both.”

“Fine.” She sat down in a chair and gestured to them to sit on the couch.

“You’re going to die out there.” They both blanched. Elder Flint flushed and wouldn’t look at her. She pressed on. “There are terrible people out there, and even if there weren’t, it’s cold as hell in Montana. You could get injured or freeze to death or meet up with wolves. Without weapons you guys will get picked off by whatever comes along.”

“It’s our duty to serve,” Flint said dully, looking at nothing.

“Bullshit.”

Chet started.

He has to see the situation. The logic is so simple.

“Look, there are too many men here, and not enough women. Didn’t it occur to you that the elders are trying to get rid of you?”

Chet looked hurt. “Why would they do that? All we have is each other.”

“Because sooner or later you’re going to fight over the women. There will be affairs. Unless more women join you, it’s inevitable. The elders are just trying to even up the score.”

Flint was shaking his head. “They’re not, that’s not true. They want us to bring back survivors Anyone we can find, even men.”

“For what? So you can all farm and build and send out missionaries until you just die off? What’s the point of that?”

“The point is to do what God wills. That’s all.” Chet was angry now.

 
She tried to calm him down. Gently, she said, “Look, there are empty houses all over the place. Walk to another town and pick one. Settle in for six months. Be careful, sleep in shifts, watch each other’s backs. Then pick up and come home, say there was nothing in Billings, and you’re off the hook.”

Flint looked outraged. “We won’t lie. We won’t come back with nothing.”

They don’t know. They haven’t really seen what it’s like out there, and there’s no way to tell them.

“You’re not going to come back at all.” She was sure that no one sent more than maybe fifty miles away was ever going to come back. Not unless they armed themselves or avoided people at all costs.

Chet stood up. “It’s stupid to argue. It’s done. Now that I have a new companion, you’ll have to sleep on the couch. Goodnight.” He walked to the bathroom and closed the door. Flint rose to head into the bedroom and she tried one more time.

“You’re not coming back, Flint. Has anybody sent that far out come back?”

His eyes were gray with thick lashes. When they finally looked into hers, she saw how flat and lifeless they were. He had already given up. The elders had likely given Chet another suicide.

“So? Maybe there’s no one out there. Maybe the plague will come back here. What does it matter? Die here, die there. Die now, die later. Might as well go.” He didn’t wait for an answer. He didn’t look back. She saw him go in and climb onto the top bunk in the semidarkness. The sound of Chet washing up came through the bathroom door.

She gave up. She wasn’t sure why she had tried in the first place. There is no argument to be had with faith.

She lay on the couch, fully clothed, and waited for sleep. Sometime after Chet had gone wordlessly to bed, it came.

The snowmobile arrived in the morning with the brisk chopping sound of a brand-new motor. Brother Chalmers sat astride it and called out to her when she opened the door. She looked over her shoulder and saw that Anderson and Flint were already gone. She picked up her pack and went out the door.

Chalmers offered her a helmet and goggles and she took both. She was glad for her long underwear as they got underway, but by the halfway point the wind had cut through to her skin. It had begun to snow again, lightly. They passed her abandoned car on the road. She tried to point it out to him, but they couldn’t hear one another at all. She was worried about riding behind Chalmers, about having to press herself into his back for stability as they rode. He wore a puffy goose-down jacket and she gave all the distance that she dared. He didn’t notice anything unusual and she tried to put it out of her mind.

She was relieved to get away from Huntsville. What had seemed charming about the community when she arrived had quickly started to suffocate her. It was hard to be an outsider in so many ways. She worried about staying anywhere, with anyone too long. Eventually, like the barber, they would have questions. Make guesses. She would be found out.

When they reached the house she had chosen, she was relieved to see it untouched and very much the same as she had left it. Chalmers shook her hand by way of goodbye. “We’re just up the road if you need us.”

She nodded and pumped his hand. He took her goggles and helmet and stuffed them in his backpack before taking off. She let herself in and immediately set about lighting a great big fire. The silence stung at first, but she relaxed into it as the house began to warm up. She curled up on the sofa she had pulled in front of the fireplace, put her right hand on the gun in her belt, and fell asleep.

Chapter Six

???

Winter. Maybe October. Think it’s not December yet. Haven’t seen the stars in a couple of weeks since it’s always cloudy, but even then I couldn’t guess the date. Days short nights long.

Left the Mormons about a week ago. Paranoid at first, checking the windows all the time, waking up thinking I heard something or someone. Just nerves. They’re not coming. Don’t think they would even if they needed help. Bandaged broken pregnant I fucking doubt it. Rather keep to their own. Fine by me.

Quiet = awful. Next chance I get I’m going to load up on batteries and an old tape deck or a CD player or something. A crank-operated Victrola would do. Sing and talk to nobody and it’s always quiet. La la la even a song I hate pounding out of a jukebox would be perfect right now. Snow keeps everything silent outside. Used to leave the cooking channel on while I cleaned the house, just for the background noise. Three cups of chirp chirp stir in cups of giggles add a cookbook and a glossy headshot and bake for an hour while we pretend nothing will ever go wrong. Used to wish for quiet, to wake up when a garbage truck went rattling through the alley or when sirens whoop whoop down the street or a drunk stumbled and bellowed by my apartment window. Too much quiet, now. Pushing on me all the time.

Time I spent in Huntsville feels surreal. Church suppers and invisible children and five Santa Clauses talking bullshit about missions and prophecies. If they had gotten the electricity back on and were growing chocolate I wouldn’t have stayed. Too weird and they’d have eventually figured me out.

No books in this house. No shitty paperbacks, no self-help no romance no fairy tales nothing. The bible, the Book of Mormon and a couple others of their texts I’ve never read. Hope it doesn’t come to the Bible. Not up for the end times. They were wrong about it anyway. Tried the Book of Mormon. Can’t get past the provenance in the first pages. Nope. Maps from the feed store don’t have a library marked here in Eden. That leaves raiding houses for books. Eventually the boredom will get to me and I’ll go out when there’s a break in the snow. Been snowing for days. White white white down down down.

Winter

No break in the snow. Done a billion pushups. Found a wide door frame in the house where I can do pull ups. Never could do those before. Working out and singing old songs to myself. Thinking about Roxanne, about Chicken, about Jack. Too much.

Remember when Jack first started at the hospital, when we couldn’t stand each other. He was too good looking, I swear he got highlights that summer. Told people I thought he was gay, but I really just hoped he was. Didn’t want to get shot down. He was so out of my league. A good looking anesthesiologist walks in and every woman- from the pathologists to the CNAs fall into his lap. Wasn’t gonna be me.

Remember trying to shut him up, shut him down. I knew I was smarter than him on the first day and I made sure he knew it, too. Made sure he couldn’t keep up in conversation. Kept him out. Reminded people about inside jokes while he was around so he’d always be on the outside. When he dated Carly I made a few choice remarks about how she was just about his speed. It was catty. Shitty. But she always was the last to catch on. She went back to her ex, anyway. She always did.

Seemed like it was always like that. He was dating someone else, I was dating someone else. I ran into him one night while I was out with Leah, and he looked at me like he had it all figured out. Yeah you know me and so do all the ladies. You know me know me know me all the way down know me Jack I know you. Asked him out the next day, just to fuck with him.

But he said yes. Yes he said yes he said yes I said yes. All our life = yes.

Too much too fast and I knew I was in too deep. He always managed to surprise me. He was funny and sweet and kind of a goofball. I thought good looking guys defaulted to asshole, not trying to be much more than they had to. Living together just seemed like the best answer, since we both worked so much. We didn’t have a lot of time together but just the weight of him beside me, just his smell and his snoring made a difference to my life. My life + Jack = better. Life + plague – babies + bullshit + guns – women + snow - Jack – sense – meaning + 5ccs depo provera administer over time results inconclusive. Lost the chart.

* * * * *

She sat over her diary, lost in it for a long time. When she could snap out of her reverie, she got up, got dressed for travel, and slung a rifle over her shoulder. It was still snowing and the wind had buried the front door in a three foot drift. She went around to the back of the house, sheltered from the wind, and went out. She walked the mile gap to the nearest neighbor, broke in, and started looking for something to occupy her mind.

Five hours later, with the last of the light, she made it back. She was dragging a sled behind her.

* * * * *

Fourteen books. Two iPods that I left behind for obvious reasons. One battered discman and five batteries, none of them the right size. But maybe if I keep looking. A basket of knitting and a booklet on how to do it. Never knitted in my life. Got invited to stitch ‘n bitch a thousand times but it sounded pointless to me. Right now it sounds like an excellent idea.

Was really glad there aren’t any houses nearer but now I realize that raiding anything is going to be an all-day affair. Only hit two and I can’t go back out again soon. Want a fucking snowmobile.

Firewood is going slow. At least it’s good stuff, fallen hardwood and not a bunch of pine. Burns for a long time.

Wish I had an almanac. Wish I had the SF public library. Wish I had the right batteries for this CD player, even if the only thing I have to listen to is this Destiny’s Child CD in it. Wish I had a prime rib and a chocolate cake. Wish I had Netflix. Wish I had a friend. Wish I had Jack. Wish into the fire burn it like a djinn. Wishes into the fire. Fire.

* * * * *

She had been completely alone for twenty-seven days. She had read every book she could find and failed twice to try to start knitting a scarf. After the second attempt, she threw the bag out into the snow and watched it get buried. She sat at the window, scowling.

She was purely miserable. She slept long and late and ate listlessly, when it occurred to her. Her hair was growing out, she could feel it on the back of her neck. It had always grown fast. Every day she debated with herself what risks were the smarter ones to take. Stay here, take off the binder, be comfortable and take long baths. Re-read the books she had liked. No one was coming. She could walk around the house naked if she wanted.

She had spent a few hours outside, practicing to shoot the rifles. She found that she preferred the bolt action to the larger caliber break-action, although it had a scope, which she kept it in mind in case she needed to take a long shot. She felt competent and didn’t want to waste ammunition, so she quit.

When she was lonely, she tortured herself with the idea that it could be worse. She thought of the men at the lake house, the men in the mall. She thought about getting caught in Nevada and living out her days on a chain, burning inside. She thought about her apartment in San Francisco and could come up with not a single memory before she killed a man in her own bed. There was no before. The world had always been ending.

She had stopped talking. She had stopping singing, humming, whistling. She felt like a wild animal, like a raccoon that had cleverly burrowed into a house for the winter. She was a silent, thoughtless thing. Nothing interested her. Out of habit or stubbornness, she didn’t change her clothes or take that long indulgent bath. She reversed her sleeping cycle, staying up all night and sleeping all day. It snowed all the time.

She woke up one afternoon to the sound of pounding at the front door. Her heart was instantly in her throat, beating so swiftly she could barely breathe. She leapt up off the bed and picked up the rifle in the doorway. She came to the door and checked the peephole.

Outside was all white. A darker shape was buried halfway in snow, its face wrapped in dark cloth, unseen. The pounding started again, and with it a high-pitched voice.

“Please!”

She thought for a second and came to the idea that someone coming to surprise her wouldn’t knock on the door. She set the rifle down but close enough to reach and tripped the locks.

The visitor stumbled forward and snow scattered across the floor of the entryway. The scarf pulled open and a woman’s face appeared. Scared, cold, breathing steam and crying hot tears stood Jodi Obermeyer.

“Oh thank god you’re still here. Thank god. Thank god. Thank god.” She flung her arms around the startled woman’s neck and hung there, sobbing. She slid free after a minute. “I was afraid you had gone. I didn’t know where else to go.”

Dusty dragged the woman close to the Franklin stove in the kitchen and made her sit down. She built up the fire until it leapt.

She watched Jodi trying to warm up, pulling off her snow-covered outer layers and scooting closer to the fire.

So beautiful. So rosy freckled pink. That special stupid is stealing over me…I am dumb around beautiful women. Seen the same thing happen to men. It’s the kind of stupid that makes us pay attention to what a beautiful woman says, whether or not it’s true or useful or sane. So glad to see somebody, once I got over the scare. If I was going to get surprised by someone at my door, I’m glad it was her.

When Jodi had warmed up enough, she started talking. “I know I shouldn’t be here and I know if anyone finds out they’ll think I’ve broken my vows, but I had to get out of Huntsville. I left while everybody was asleep. I know the way, somebody mentioned you were in the Westin house. But I’ve never walked this far alone before. It took me forever but I was afraid to stop because I thought I might freeze to death.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t get lost.”

“I know. But I didn’t have any choice.”

“Why don’t you sit down on a chair and I’ll make some tea and we can talk it over?”

Jodi stood up. “I don’t drink tea.” Standing, with her coats off and her long skirts falling to the floor, she was obviously pregnant.

“Oh shit.”

Jodi put a hand protectively over her belly. “Is that any way to talk about a baby?”

“Oh shit,” she repeated, unable to say anything else. She stepped forward with her hands out, instinctively wanting to touch.

Jodi walked away, cradling her abdomen and sitting down gently on the couch. “I didn’t come here for you to lay hands on me. I’m still a married woman. Obviously.”

“I’m sorry, I should have asked you, of course. It’s just my training. I’ve treated pregnant woman for most of my professional career, I only wanted to assess…” She lost what she had been meaning to say.

Jodi’s face crumpled in and she started to sob. “Everything is so horrible. I need to know that I can trust you. Please just…”