The Chosen One

by Carol Lynch Williams

  There’s a knock at the door. Mother wipes at her face with the back of her hand and goes to answer it.

  It’s Sheriff Felix.

  “What?” I say. My first thought is Patrick. But he can’t be out there now. He won’t be back for days.

  My second thought is Josh. I don’t move.

  “Kyra Leigh. The Prophet wants to see you.”

  “Now?” I say.

  He nods.

  “Whatever for?” Mother says. “And why so early in the morning?”

  Sheriff Felix ignores her.

  “Let me change,” I say.

  “No,” he says. “Come now. As you are.”

  I hurry to the door. Mother does, too.

  “I’ll take her, Sister,” the sheriff says.

  “I’m coming, too,” Mother says. “I need to know what’s happening with my daughter.” Mother’s face has grown pale.

  “The Prophet has asked for Sister Kyra. Alone.”

  “Get your father,” Mother says to Laura, who doesn’t even ask why, just runs out the back door.

  Mother hugs me again, as I walk away from home and into the morning. It’s cool outside. The sky is a thin blue. We only have two blocks, if that, to go. But my knees shake so, I don’t think I can make it.

  “Why does he want me?” I ask Sheriff Felix.

  Was it because I wouldn’t kiss Uncle Hyrum? Did he tattle on me? Can the Prophet decide who I kiss before I marry?

  The thought turns me cold, inside and out. By the time we get to the Temple, I’m shaking all over.

  I’VE NEVER BEEN in the upper rooms of the Temple before, except once on a dare. And the God Squad chased me out. Now, I wait in the front room.

  Through the huge plate-glass windows I can see everything. Our whole Compound. The Prophet’s and Apostles’ homes scattered farther out. The home where I will live when I marry Uncle Hyrum. The lush green of their lawns. And past that to the trailers where all of The Chosen Ones live. I can imagine seeing my home if I close my eyes.

  A door swings open.

  “Sister Kyra.”

  It’s Uncle Hyrum.

  It feels like my lungs leap into my throat. I can’t even breathe. Can barely nod at him. My feet have stopped working. My heart, though, is beating double time. Maybe like a hummingbird’s.

  For a brief second I remember reading the hummingbird book while sitting on the floor of the Ironton County Mobile Library on Wheels. I can feel my legs tucked under me as I turn the pages and see the ruby-throated hummingbird for the first time.

  “Prophet Childs will see you.”

  Uncle Hyrum’s tone is that of ice.

  Somehow I follow him. Down a hall we go. Portraits hang on the walls. Portraits of Jesus and Prophet Childs’s father and the Prophet before him and the one before him. There’s a painting of Prophet Childs himself, standing on the right hand of Jesus. They’re smiling at each other.

  The carpet is thick under my feet. The hall is air-conditioned so low that I rub my arms to smooth down the goose bumps. Mother would feel comfortable in a place like this. She wouldn’t be so hot.

  “In here,” Uncle Hyrum says.

  The room is huge. A whole wall of windows look out on the Temple. There are three computers. Two walls of books. A huge television. Dark green carpet. A desk so large I could sleep on it with Laura and Carolina.

  Prophet Childs stands next to the window, gazing at the Compound. His hands are clasped behind himself. He rocks on his feet in his shiny shoes.

  Standing near the back wall are Brother Laramie and Brother Nelson, two members of the God Squad. And in a chair is Joshua. My Joshua.

  “WHO ELSE DO YOU LIKE?” I asked Joshua one late night. The moon was a sliver, hanging low in the sky like it was caught in a fall.

  “What?” Joshua’s voice was hushed.

  We’d finished Harry Potter and I wanted to play with magic. I was sure I would be good at it.

  “What other girl do you like?”

  I turned to him. I could just see the outline of his face. If we moved just a few inches to the left we’d be in the false light of the Temple spire.

  “That’s out of the blue,” Joshua said. He held the book on his lap.

  “I know,” I said.

  “Why are you asking?” Joshua shifted until his head rested on my shoulder. I could see his tennis shoe. A bit of one sock.

  “You have to have three wives to get into heaven,” I said. “You know that. Do you have two other choices?”

  Am I worth going to hell for? I thought, but I didn’t say the words. Because what if I would go to hell for Joshua but he wouldn’t for me?

  He was quiet.

  “You have to be with three women. Kiss them. Love them.” I made my voice all singsongy though my words made me feel jealous and itchy inside. “Have babies with them.”

  The darkness made me powerful. Or was it Harry Potter? Had magic seeped from the book into me, making me stronger? Less afraid? Bold enough to say these words to Joshua?

  “I know what they say,” Joshua said.

  I lowered my voice. “Do you believe it?”

  He shrugged. I felt his shoulders lift and settle again. The movement caused the smell of soap to float toward me.

  “Do you ever think about it?”

  He shrugged a second time. Again that smell.

  “I don’t think of other girls,” Joshua said. “I don’t think of having three wives. I think of you.”

  I clamped my mouth shut in case the magic made me tell that I was sure I loved him.

  “Kyra,” he said after a long moment. “I choose you. Only.”

  I ALMOST CRY OUT when I see Joshua. His face is a mess. They’ve beat him good.

  He doesn’t look at me.

  “Kyra Leigh Carlson,” Prophet Childs says, still staring out those big windows. He doesn’t look at me. He just watches out the windows. Below, people are coming to life, men heading toward fields, some women hanging washed clothes on lines to dry. “Do you understand what adultery is?”

  “Umm,” I say.

  I can’t look away from Joshua. He’s so bruised I want to go to him. Smooth his face with my hands. Touch his split lips with my mouth. Comfort him with hugs. I feel too shocked to answer.

  “Adultery is lusting after someone you are not meant to be with,” Prophet Childs says.

  Now he turns. I look at the Prophet. There is no smile on his face. No warmth there. What I see scares me.

  “God has chosen who you are to marry,” Prophet Childs says. “In the belly of the Temple, He let me know the man you will spend eternity with. And you have been with this boy.”

  “We didn’t do anything,” Joshua says.

  “You asked for her hand,” Prophet Childs said. “You said you loved her. You met her after dark.”

  Prophet Childs walks toward me. Without meaning to, I back up.

  “I would never have an adulteress as a wife,” he says.

  I swallow.

  “What you have done is an abomination. Women were stoned for less in the Bible,” he says.

  All at once I think I’m going to die. They are going to kill me the way they did Ellen. The way they killed Sister Janie’s tiny baby.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I say.

  Uncle Hyrum slaps me with the back of his hand. Tears sting my eyes and my nose starts to run. I actually see stars.

  “Ow,” I say.

  “No,” Joshua says, leaping to his feet.

  Brother Laramie hits Joshua so hard in the face blood splatters against the wall. He falls to the floor and I run to him, but Uncle Hyrum catches me in his arms. How can he be so strong? How can he be so old and so strong? He’s pinned my arms to my sides. But I struggle anyway, kicking at his shins, twisting this way and that.

  The Prophet is in my face. I can smell his breath. It’s sweet as sugar. “If he will have you, you will be free.” The words come out slow, one-at-a-time slow.

  At first I think
Joshua, if Joshua will have me, then I’ll be free. Uncle Hyrum sets me loose and looks at me with such an angry glare that I realize the “he” is my uncle. For a moment I have hope. Uncle Hyrum is so angry. So angry.

  Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to marry him.

  Maybe, just maybe, God has heard my prayers and I’m safe.

  Maybe, just maybe, I can be with Joshua.

  “Apostle Carlson, will you still take the girl?”

  I look to my uncle, whose arms are like bands, shaking my head. My nose is still running. I wipe my lip and when I pull my hand away, I see blood.

  “I can keep her in line,” he says after a few moments. “I’ve trained the others. I can train her.”

  I don’t know why, but my knees give out. I fall to the floor. From where I’m lying, I can see Joshua. He reaches for me. He’s bleeding and his eye is swollen shut. I crawl fast as I can to him, reaching his hand, grabbing it for a moment. A shiny shoe smashes into our hands and I scream.

  “This isn’t truth,” Joshua says, pushing himself up. “None of this is. We didn’t do anything.”

  “Blasphemer,” Uncle Hyrum says. His voice is a hiss, the way a snake might sound if it could talk.

  For a second I think of Satan, and that snake in the Garden of Eden. Did he sound like Uncle Hyrum does?

  “You don’t beat people to keep them in line,” Joshua says. I’m not sure how he gets to his feet, he’s that hurt, and seeing him like this, because of me, makes me weep. I sob. He’s next to me in a moment, touching my hair, pulling me to my feet.

  “Take him away,” Prophet Childs says.

  “No!” I say. I’m loud. I put my arms around Joshua’s waist and hold tight to him.

  “Wait, wait,” Joshua says. “Just listen.”

  But they don’t. Brother Nelson and Brother Laramie reach for Joshua. It’s a short tug-of-war as they pull him away from me. They wrench his arm up behind him.

  “Stop it!” I’m screaming. “Let him go!”

  Joshua swears and shouts how this is not God’s true church. “God would never demand this,” he says, and his voice is all alone in the room.

  There’s not another sound until Prophet Childs says, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

  And he turns his back on Joshua and looks out the window toward the Temple again.

  I try to follow as they drag Joshua away. I throw myself after him.

  “Run,” Joshua says to me. “Get free, Kyra. Find me. Find me when you can. I’ll be waiting.”

  “I’m going with him,” I say to Prophet Childs. I try to run past Uncle Hyrum, but he grabs me again.

  “Let me go.” My voice is one I don’t recognize.

  The door closes.

  For a minute I think I might scream every bit of life out of me. But I bite my tongue.

  “The ceremony will still be,” Prophet Childs says.

  “I won’t do it,” I say.

  The Prophet looks back out his big window. I wonder how the God Squad will get Joshua out of this building without being seen. Or maybe they don’t care who sees what they’ve done. Of course they don’t. Standing here, I remember more than one person paraded down the street for others to see. To teach us all a lesson. Sometimes those people showed up in church meetings. Sometimes we never saw them again. Not a lot of people. Mostly The Chosen Ones do what they are told. But I’m not so sure I can.

  “Only you can save him,” Prophet Childs says after a few quiet moments.

  My whole body goes cold. “What do you mean?” My voice is a whisper.

  Uncle Hyrum rocks back on his heels, but the scowl never leaves his face. He squeezes my wrists in his hands. Pinches at my skin.

  “Only you can save Joshua Johnson,” Prophet Childs says. He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring out at the Temple.

  I say nothing.

  “You marry who God has chosen for you to marry.”

  “You do as God tells you to do.”

  “You are obedient.”

  Now Prophet Childs turns and faces me.

  “Or else.”

  The Prophet looks at Uncle Hyrum. “Discipline?” he says.

  Uncle Hyrum gives just one nod of his head. “Girl, you have your first lesson to learn right now,” Uncle Hyrum says and he balls his hands into fists.

  WHEN THE BEATING STARTS, I think of Mozart. Concentrate on Mozart. Wish for Mozart to come back from the dead and sweep me away.

  MY FACE IS BRUISED, one eye closing shut, both lips busted, split wide-open. I feel that with my tongue.

  “The lesson of the kingdom,” Uncle Hyrum says. He wipes his hands on a towel that one of the God Squad brought him. “Be glad it isn’t worse, Miss Kyra.”

  I’m too busy crying to answer.

  The Prophet doesn’t even look my way, just dismisses us both with a wave like he’s grown bored.

  MOTHER FAINTS when she sees me. Laura screams and runs for help. I lie down on the sofa and Margaret hurries to the bathroom. I hear her running water. She comes back with a wet cloth.

  “Here,” she says. I can almost not hear her voice.

  Carolina looks at me with wide eyes, then starts crying. Then my other mothers are there. Mother Victoria rushes to my mother, who looks like a broken doll, that braid twisting away from her head like a rope. Mother Claire pulls me onto her lap. Tears fall from her eyes.

  “Kyra,” she says.

  Please, I think. No more preaching. No more. I wonder if I will have to use Mozart to drown her out. I wonder if he will be with me again.

  “I tried to run,” she says, her voice a whisper.

  I grow paper-thin. This woman, the meanest of my father’s wives, she tried to get away?

  Her voice is low in my ear.

  I look at her through one eye. I hear Mother Victoria murmuring to my mother, hear her go into the kitchen and start herbs to boiling on the stove.

  “There’s no getting away.” Mother Claire strokes my hair, touches her lips to my bruises, lets her finger trace the cuts. “I tried three times. They meant to break me. But the man who was supposed to be my husband, he wouldn’t have me. Called me wild. Said I was a whore. So I got your father instead. A blessing if ever there was any.”

  Her voice is like cotton. Her fingers almost not there. I must be lost.

  Mother Claire puts her arms around me. “I’m here,” she says.

  She hums, and I lean against her shoulder, letting her rock me.

  FATHER COMES RUNNING into our home, slinging the door open.

  “What in the hell?” he says when he sees me. “Who did this, Kyra?” He kneels before me, still cradled in Mother Claire’s arms.

  “Hyrum,” Mother Claire says.

  He leaves. And is gone for hours. The sun has set.

  Finn brings a rumor that Sheriff Felix will be running several boys off the Compound. Please, I think, though my prayers haven’t helped me at all, please let Joshua still be alive.

  Mother goes to bed with Carolina and Margaret. My other mothers go home to their families. I stay up, sitting in the dark, waiting for Father. There’s a knock on the door, then Emily walks in, grinning until she sees my face.

  “Oh Kyra, oh Kyra,” she says. “Mother said to visit. She did. She said to visit. She says to tell you.”

  “Tell me what, Emily?” I say.

  Laura comes into the living room with us. She turns on the light over the stove, opens the oven door so that light shines too. Outside a soft wind blows. Someone’s dog barks like crazy, then stops with a yelp.

  Emily, simple Emily, hovers near me. She kisses my hairline.

  “Kyra,” she says, her speech slurred. She leans into my face. “Jesus is listening to you.”

  “He is?” Tears spring to my eyes. I stare at my sister, seeing how she looks a little like Laura.

  “He told me to tell you,” Emily says. “He knows you here.” She touches my chest where my heart is. “And here.” She touches my forehead. Then she whispers, “He love
s you. No hell for you.”

  She kisses at my face until Father comes home.

  “Laura,” Father says, “walk Miss Emily home, then hurry up to bed yourself.”

  They both hug him good night.

  “Let’s sit outside,” he says to me.

  We go out on the back porch. I can feel the worn wood under my feet. I can hear the chickens settling in for the evening.

  “Sit down,” Father says. He puts his arm around my shoulder, pulls me close. I can smell leftover aftershave on him. I close my eyes and breathe deep the smell of my father. I’m leaning against his shoulder, just resting, just loving him, just wishing he could save me when he says, “Do you remember what happened to Brother Alex Delango?”

  The smell of sage breezes past. “Yes,” I say.

  “Do you remember how he lost everything because he dared to contradict Prophet Childs?”

  We sit for a moment, the quiet and cool night air between us.

  “They took his children and wives and gave them to two other of the brethren. They made him leave, along with Brother Olsen and Brother Adamson. The three of them were run off, all of them losing their families because they crossed the Prophet. Do you remember?”

  I nod. “Yes sir.”

  “Do you remember how those fathers were to those new wives and children?”

  Again, I nod.

  The night sky is full of stars. They look close enough to reach. If I didn’t hurt so much, I bet I could touch one. Father and I don’t say anything else. We sit there, quiet. But I know what he’s telling me.

  I have to do what they say.

  Or he loses everything.

  III

  Mother Sarah isn’t feeling good again. She’s not throwing up, but her face stays slick with sweat. Her skin has grown pale except for two spots of pink in her cheeks. Her lips are dry. She doesn’t even get out of bed.

  But I can only think of myself. I hurt all over. Bruises have appeared on both arms, my legs, and across my back. When did that happen? I can’t remember Uncle Hyrum hitting me anywhere but in the face and head. I have a headache that gets worse when the sun shines in my eyes. I draw the curtains and whisper at my sisters, “Let’s keep it down today, okay?”