The Visionist: A Novel (31 page)

“Now that you know the whole story,” said Trask, “do you have any idea what you are going to do with the information?”

I was uncertain at first how to answer. The instinct to guard my thoughts and actions had deepened over the years. Now, it paralyzed me. What was I going to do? Between them, May and Trask had beaten a formidable villain in the form of Silas Kimball. But were they any match for James Hurlbut? Or, for that matter, Elder Sister Agnes?

“I believe, sir, that Briggs’s original—and now defunct—will could be traded for May’s safe return. Then, once she is back in safe hands, she will accompany me to the Shakers and tell them that Ben’s birth was never recorded and, as such, that he is useless to them. It’s what she believes to be true, after all, so I’ve no doubt she’ll be convincing. Finally, it’s my assumption that, having determined neither child to hold great promise as a ‘believer,’ the Shaker sister will release Polly and Ben from their indenture and the family shall, once more, be reunited.”

“Very neat,” said Trask. “But how will you find May?”

“I have my sources, sir,” I answered. “One important detail: Do you have a second copy of Briggs’s will? One with an unbroken seal? It will be more convincing to Hurlbut if it looks clean and official. The envelope May held onto for all these years—well, it’s pretty worn out.”

He reached into the cabinet and handed me his copy of the sealed will. He had something else he wanted to say to me.

“You know,” he said, “I tried to persuade May to leave the farm. I told her that she and the children could live in peace and safety here with me, but she would not come. I think she was afraid of what Silas was capable of. In the end, helping her to secure the farm was the only thing I could do for her. Seems so little, really. Given the horror of her life.”

“But it wasn’t so little, as it turns out,” I said, standing up and heading for the door. “It’s not just saving her life now—it’s saving her children’s as well.”

I smiled and held out my hand. He shook it firmly.

“You know where to find me, should you need any assistance,” he said.

“That I do.” One final question buzzed about my head like a mosquito. I turned to Trask. “Why do you think May carried around her father’s old will?”

He looked pensive, and a little sad. “I imagine she just wanted to have a souvenir to remember him by. That, and it was the last thing anyone ever did to protect
her.
”

I could not help feeling a familiar melancholy sweep over me. My mind traveled far away to that solitary house on that solitary hill, the door to my roomful of regrets thrown open wide. May had seemed such a broken woman, yet she’d managed to care for her kin anyway. Could I have done better looking out for mine?

Polly

THE BOTTLE WAS
small and cool in her palm. She reached beneath her pillow and pulled out a slip of paper. It had been torn from a book. Trembling as she tipped the page towards the window, Polly began to read.

At the bottom, Charity had written just two sentences.

That was all. She had not even signed it.

Polly looked back over the strange text. Though the title at the top had been torn through, she could still make it out.
Menstruation Obstructed.
So this was how the other sisters were told to bleed their wombs. She shuddered and looked once more at the bottle.

So small, such dark liquid, just four tiny sips to out Silas from her body. It was all she could do not to drink it down then and there. Charity’s note told her to be careful, but Charity’s concern was not for Polly. It was for the believers. They must never know that their Visionist was a whore. They must never know that she took poison to kill the child inside her. If this purging was to be done, it was to be done quietly.

Polly crumpled the page around the bottle and shoved it back under her pillow. Cold and empty, her room felt like a cell. Now that she had the means to force the curse from her body, the moments until it was done stretched endlessly before her. She knew the bleeding would be dangerous. Too much, too fast, girls died from this all the time.

She took her cape from the peg in the hall. She felt weak, it was true, but she needed to work in order to clear her head. Besides, her presence was required in the sisters’ workshop. There were seed packets to be made, and they were far behind in fashioning the number they hoped to have ready in time to sell to the World. Spring seemed farther away than ever, yet the months were deceiving. It was almost the end of February.

Polly’s thoughts swirled as she walked along the path. There were so many things she needed to sort out. When would the inspector and her mother be coming for her? Elder Sister Agnes had not mentioned the day. Why was he so keen to see her, this Simon Pryor? The only reason she could think of was that he meant to arrest her. Had Ben’s birth been recorded? She’d never wondered before, for what child thinks of such things. If it had, she would need to warn Mama to say nothing about it. It was imperative that Elder Sister Agnes be convinced that she had no reason to hang on to Ben, that he was illegitimate and could thus bring the believers no promise of property.

Then, there was the child inside. With every passing hour, she wanted more fervently for it to be gone from her womb. She could not figure out how old it might be, so often had Silas forced himself on her in the months before she came to The City of Hope. If she left things for too long, the cure would kill her. Yet she could not take the poison here, for who would help her if it all went wrong?

She stopped. She would go to Elder Sister Agnes and ask when the meeting would take place. That would determine everything.

Polly stood in the doorway of the eldress’s workroom. She was breathless from her walk to the Church Family meetinghouse.

“Why are you here, Sister?” the eldress asked. “Visiting me is all well and good, but do you not have something more important to occupy your time?”

“I need to know when the inspector and my mother are coming,” Polly said. “If I am to leave with them, there are…things I would like to do.”

Elder Sister Agnes regarded her closely. “Things? What things? Are you planning a final Vision? Something for the believers to remember you by?”

Polly closed her eyes. “No,” she said sadly. “Nothing like that.” Her legs felt weak and she wished that the eldress would invite her to sit. She could feel a cramp coming on. She fought it, did not want to bend over and clutch at her stomach.

“Sister Polly?” the eldress asked. “What is wrong? Come sit by the stove. You look quite unwell.”

Polly crossed the room and fell into the chair that the eldress had indicated. She was tired, so tired.

“What is it, Sister Polly?” the eldress asked. Her tone was not hard. “I can assure you that you’ll feel better for telling me.”

Polly looked up with tears in her eyes. What did it matter anymore? What did anything matter? She was leaving. There was no punishment the eldress could mete out that would be worse than what the World might do to her.

“For all the time I’ve been here,” she said. “You have wanted me to confess, Eldress. Well, here I am. You needn’t worry that I’ll let down the believers. You have determined a plan to keep that from happening. And Charity. You cannot be displeased that she has come to hate me. All that’s left is for me to help you understand why.”

Polly sat up as tall as she could and told the eldress everything. About her father’s vile ways, the fire, the fact that she’d left him to burn, her last glimpse of him rolling out of the flames, and finally, the child. She told the eldress everything and it was a relief.

Elder Sister Agnes did not say a word throughout the whole of Polly’s confession. Indeed, the few times that Polly dared to look into her eyes, she noticed nothing but sadness. And when Polly had finished her story, Elder Sister Agnes looked away towards the bleak light coming through the window and still she kept quiet.

“You must despise me,” Polly said. “Perhaps more, even, than you thought you might.”

The eldress turned to look at her. “No, Sister Polly,” she said. Her voice was barely audible, and she turned away a moment before continuing to speak. “How could I despise one who has been so unfairly cursed?”

They sat in silence, and for the first time, Polly felt calm in the eldress’s presence.

“I…I had to get Mama and Ben away,” she stammered. “I don’t understand what happened after that. I suppose I intended to set the house on fire. I hated him, I won’t lie. I—”

Elder Sister Agnes interrupted her. “You say that after you settled your mother and Benjamin in the cart, you went back into the house carrying a heavy lamp?” she asked. “To look at him one last time? What did you hope to see?”

Polly thought a moment before answering. “I wanted to…remember him. Not as he always was, screaming and beating Mama and…well, I’ve said what else he did.” She stopped, suddenly ashamed.

“Go on, Sister Polly.”

“I wanted to remember him weak, vulnerable, like a child I could have done anything to. Like he saw us.”

“And the lamp,” Elder Sister Agnes went on. “You say he startled you and you dropped it.”

“Yes,” Polly said. “But I think now that I must have meant it. That it was no accident.”

“Why would you think such a thing?”

“Because, while I believed for a moment when I first came here that maybe I was…good, I have since discovered how capable I am of deceit, of the worst form of treachery. I have realized that I am rotten and that I must have meant to…murder him.”

Elder Sister Agnes stared out the window again before looking back at Polly. “I disagree, Sister,” she said. “I think that the lamp slipped from your hands as it would from anyone’s. I think that there was a sleeping man on the bed before you, and with the flames leaping around you, you realized that you were not strong enough to drag him out. You are guilty of nothing save finding yourself in the middle of a dangerous tragedy.” She paused. “What are you going to do about his child?”

Polly’s cheeks reddened. To hear mention of her disgrace only made her feel more disgusted by it.

“I…” She turned and stared into the eldress’s eyes. “You will not approve, Eldress.”

“Tell me anyway,” Elder Sister Agnes said.

“I have decided to…out it from my womb. I cannot abide his presence in me. My father’s. I…” She turned her face away.

Once again, the eldress paused before speaking.

“It is dangerous, you know. If that is your decision, you will need a doctor to help you through.”

“I know,” Polly answered. “That is why I came to you in the first place. To find out when I would be leaving.”

The eldress thought a moment. “I do not want to draw attention to the inspector’s visit. We both know what is good for the believers as far as your departure is concerned. I think it best that they see neither Mister Pryor nor your mother in any special way. We have had an increasing number of people from the World visit the Sabbath Meeting since you arrived here. According to the new rules sent out from the Central Ministry, we should not allow them in, but as there is always the chance that one or two of them will join us having seen our worship, the elders here have decided to…quietly follow our own counsel in the matter. Perhaps the inspector and your mother could visit from the World this coming Sabbath Day. They could sit in the gallery with all the others; then you could slip away with them after Meeting is over.”

“But you wanted to speak to my mother,” Polly said. “About Ben. When?”

“I am of the opinion,” the eldress answered, “that under the circumstances, it might be better to have that conversation at another time. Given everything you have told me, I think it prudent to concentrate on you for the time being.”

Polly looked at her skeptically. “At another time?”

Elder Sister Agnes smiled. “You must trust me, Sister Polly. I have suspected you all the time I’ve known you, it’s true, but not because I am wicked. I need time to think about Benjamin. I promise, I will speak to your mother, and we will try and find a solution that leaves everyone happy—including the boy.”

Polly nodded. There was little more she could say. She sighed, feeling she had failed her brother yet again. “I am late for my duties in the sewing room,” she said as she stood, not sure quite how to take her leave. Then, to her great surprise, Elder Sister Agnes stood up and approached her.

She seemed to want to reach out and touch Polly’s shoulder to comfort her. But then she pulled back at the last moment, unable to complete the gesture. “You must wait before taking the…medicine,” she said. “I have not asked how you got it, but I have my suspicions, and thus I have no doubt that you have been instructed as to how you should use it. Pay that advice great heed, Sister Polly. Your life may depend on it.”

“I will,” Polly answered. “I will time my actions with care.”

They stood together, not speaking. Then the eldress said, “Go now and be gentle with yourself, Sister. You deserve to feel at peace.” And with that she turned away. As Polly pulled shut the door, the last thing she saw was the eldress’s back, bowed by the burden of all that she had so tenaciously sought to be told.