by Charity B.
“You are no longer my concern.”
My cheeks are hot and wet with tears as I allow myself to lie down, sobbing against the floorboards.
Tender hands hold my arms, pulling me up. “Come on, Laurel Ann, sweetie. You need to get up. Let’s get you to bed.” My mother helps me to my feet as I look up to see Sister Mary forcing a frown. She’s probably thrilled I’m almost gone. Sister Esther and Sister Lydia look at me with pity, and Sister Julia doesn’t look at me at all. My mother leads me down the hall to the washroom where she opens the cabinet to pull out a box and an odd belt. She removes a thick white cotton pad from the box and hands it to me.
“Place it inside the belt, and change it every few hours while you have your blood.”
With my eyes still wet from tears, I nod as she leaves me to it. Once I finish, I follow her to my room where Mia is sleeping. The moonlight allows us to see enough for her to help me out of my dress, and I bite my lip to stop the tears when I lift my arms. She removes my bonnet, taking the pins out of my hair to let it fall in waves down my back. I hold on to her shoulder as she takes off my shoes, stockings, petticoat, and bloomers. I wince in pain, though I don’t make any noise. She quietly opens the dresser to remove a nightgown, gently gliding it over my head and arms. Giving me a sad smile, she takes my hand, sitting me down at my vanity. She slowly brushes my hair, and it’s so still and quiet that when she speaks, I jump.
“I do remember how scary this was for me. I didn’t know your father other than in passing, and I didn’t want to leave my family. But that’s what Zaaron wants to teach us, to be selfless for the good of everyone. Our emotions and feelings are miniscule in comparison to the bigger picture. We need to remain pure so we can make it to the Paradise Star together and spend eternity in Zaaron’s love. You will get through this, Laurel Ann. And one day, you will be grateful for it.”
I feel her finger sectioning off my hair as she puts it into a braid. “Pa hates me now.”
She sighs. “He doesn’t hate you. He loves you, and it terrifies him that someone he loves won’t spend eternity with us. That’s why he is angry. He’s furious that you would risk that. Risk your soul.”
“Yes, Mother.”
She smiles at me in the mirror and kisses the top of my head. “Good night, my darling. Go to bed.”
My bare feet slide between the sheets as she leaves the room. I roll over to face the wall.
“Laurel Ann?” Mia whispers. I don’t know what to say to her. Too tired to hear her apology, I say nothing. There is silence for a long while until she says, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to go to Hell.”
I’m angry, sad, and scared. I look at the old, ripped, floral wallpaper on my wall. This is it. This is the last night I will sleep in my bed. This is my last night in my home.
This is my last night free.
THE TEARS ARE LIKE FIRE, so I press my palms to my eyes until spots sprinkle my vision. He’s doing this to hurt me. I don’t think Zaaron told him shit about Laurel Ann. I think he’s trying to punish me for assisting her in breaking spiritual law.
I knew it was wrong from the moment I suggested it. I just couldn’t sit by and let it happen to her. The terror on her face when she saw the blood of innocence put a physical heaviness on my chest. It seeped into my skin to pull out my own fears.
With the thousands of prayers I’ve prayed, I truly thought she would be my wife someday. I thought I could feel it. Now every hope of that is crashing down.
It’s true, I helped her to not only protect her, but to protect myself. I can’t handle the thought of her laying with someone else. Her little belly becoming round with child. The mental image of her body being touched and infiltrated by my father claws my mind to shreds.
I kick the dirt, cursing that I was born to the Prophet. Though I know I should be grateful to be a member of my holy family, we don’t feel holy. My father is cruel, my mothers are weak, and most of my siblings are liars. I’m not saying I don’t love my family, I’m just saying we don’t seem all that spiritual to me.
Feeling the cool air on my face, I take the long way through the woods. What time I go home is irrelevant. My father will make sure I’m punished either way. The night is silent other than the sticks crunching beneath my boots as the moon shines through the trees. I wanted so badly to go to her at the soul cleansing, to warn her of what was to come. The betrayal in her expression was enough to turn my stomach when she saw me at her door, holding the evidence of her womanhood.
Although I know it’s a pointless thing to do, I still wonder what I could have done differently to have altered the outcome.
I went immediately to the waste site after I left the creek with her. Maybe that was my first mistake. Maybe I should have let the water take her underclothes away.
While we repurpose things as much as possible, there are still items that must be disposed of. Those items go to the community waste site. Since everyone in the compound uses it, I thought it was the safest place to get rid of her clothing.
My uncle Cyrus had come upon me before I was able to place her bloody garments on the pile that, ironically, is burning right now. He ripped them from my hands, and held them up. It somehow felt like he was violating Laurel Ann, the way he sneered at them. After many times of refusing to tell him whose they were, he dragged me to my father.
Never once did I name her. It was Zaaron who told him. Even if He hadn’t, every follower in the compound has seen that we’ve been inseparable lately. My father is no different.
I still feel like I’ve been betrayed by my God.
How many times have I begged you for her to be mine? I have told you every night for years how much she means to me. How could you want her to be with him? I know I’m not the Prophet yet, but why won’t you just talk to me?
Are all my prayers falling on deaf ears? Are my desires and dreams completely irrelevant? Why does He allow me these affections for her if He refuses to allow me to act on them? And why my father?! I don’t understand how he could be better than me. We are both of holy blood. She wouldn’t have been so scared if it were me she was to be bound to.
My thoughts take my feet to where I’m going before I know that’s what I want. I walk up to the little box holding Benji Johnson.
“Benji? It’s Zeb. Are you okay?” There is only silence. Knocking on the door, I whisper, “Benji?”
“Zebadiah? What are you doing here? I’m meant to be in solitude. You’re gonna get us both in trouble.”
I hear the fear in his voice. I know I’m asking him to soil his newly cleansed soul by talking to me. I also know I need advice from someone I trust.
“I know… I just need to talk to you. I don’t know what to do.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
I hear a thump from inside the box’s walls. I feel guilty for some of the less than kind thoughts I’ve had about him and his family because he’s never been anything besides there for me. After Laur, he’s my best friend.
“Laurel Ann received her blood today. We tried to hide it, and my father found out.”
With a heavy sigh he says, “Being cleansed is a lot worse than I imagined. I don’t know how she’ll handle it.”
“The soul cleansing isn’t the worst part. She’s to be placed with my father.” My words get stuck in my throat, causing me to cough on them. “How am I supposed to spend every day with her in the same house, acting as if I’m her child? I see the evidence of what he does to my mothers, and he is no kinder to us kids. I don’t want that for Laurel Ann. How could Zaaron?”
A dragging sound slides down the wood, and I think he is leaning against the wall. “Would you want her with anyone? I understand it being your father makes it worse, but what if she was to be bound to my father? Or one of her other uncles? Would it be any better?”
“No, but I wouldn’t spend every day witnessing it! And at least your father isn’t cruel.”
His laugh sounds pained. “You see what he wants to show you.�
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Sitting on the ground, I lean against the box. “Are any of them what they say they are?”
“I don’t know. Before my mother left, she told me lies overflowed this compound. She said she felt safer with a wolf that bared his teeth than one hiding beneath sheep’s clothing.”
I scoff at his pointless remark. “Well, your mother was possessed. The Devil says many things to confuse us. She was as trustworthy as a Philistine. You can’t take her words to heart.” He says nothing so I lean my ear against the wood. “Benji?”
“I think you better go, Zeb. You don’t want to end up here too.”
I nod even though he can’t see me. “This is only temporary. You’ll be out of there soon.” When he doesn’t respond, I stand to brush the dirt off my trousers, making my way home.
The common ground is empty as I pass it to get to my family’s ranch. In the distance, the candlelight is burning, and I wonder who will still be awake to witness my lashings.
I cross through the gate, and something hard lands against my back, causing my chest to bow out as the air is forced from my mouth. I fall to the dirt, and barely catch myself in time.
“You shamed me today, Zebadiah.” I flip to my back, struggling to breathe. “Of all my children, I expect the most of you, and you have let me down repeatedly.”
He hits me in the arm with what I now see is a cattle encapsulator. The long, brass tool, intended for feeding our cattle their meds, slams against my leg, and I let out a yell. “I know, Father.”
He kicks me in the ribs before pulling me to my feet by the front of my shirt. “Your relationship with the Henderson girl is offensive and sinful. I will not have it.” Bringing the encapsulator hard against my side, yet still keeping me upright, he speaks through closed teeth. “I don’t want you to have anything to do with her outside of what is appropriate with any of your mothers, do you understand?”
He throws me to the ground while I double over and grab my side, spitting the excess saliva into the dirt. “Yes, Father.”
“You know how I feel about the family receiving public cleansings, so this is not something I am pleased with. However, you will be made an example of.” I nod because I fear it will hurt to speak. He throws the encapsulator to the ground as he walks past me. “You sleep outside tonight. A bed is a right for those who are obedient.”
Lying on the ground, I allow myself to groan at the pain shooting through my body. I roll onto my back and look up at the stars, wondering which one is the paradise we suffer for.
Water lands in large droplets on my face, forcing my eyes open. The sky is still dark as the rain pummels me. It’s coming down so hard, I don’t make it to the porch before I’m soaked all the way through. My side hurts something awful. I hold my hand over it involuntarily and sit on the porch chair.
Laurel Ann is usually one of the first things I think of upon waking up, and today is no exception. I wonder how her father reacted to what happened last night. Surely knowing she will be bound to my father would soften the blow. He seems prideful, and nobody wants the entire compound looking down on their family for the actions of one.
I’m going to have to do better. It’s no secret in the Fitch house that when Father is angry at one of us, we all pay the price. I would never want Laurel Ann to get the brunt of his fury for something I did. After last night, I’m sure none of my family is too happy with me.
The rooster will be waking up the entire ranch soon. I might as well get a head start on my chores and maybe get my father in a better mood.
I’ve been at it for what feels like hours when I hear the cock-a-doodle-doo of a new morning starting. I look out the barn window, wiping the sweat on my sleeve. Since I finished my own chores about an hour ago, I started on my brother Ezekiel’s. I would have been finished sooner, but my side and back hurt terribly, making me move slower.
As I finish mucking out the final horse stall, the barn door opens.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Ezekiel says, holding out a glass of milk.
I gulp it down in one drink before wiping my mouth. “Yes, well, I wasn’t getting any sleep anyway.”
He nods toward the house. “Your ma had a rough night last night with Father. You might want to go check on her before we head to school.”
Anger bubbles in my veins like water on a stove. His problem was with me, not my mother. The worst part is, she’ll take it and apologize just like the rest of them.
“Fuck.”
“Don’t let Father hear you curse like that.”
I scoff as I head toward the house. What else could he take from me that he didn’t take last night?
I walk up the porch steps and pass a few of my mothers and sisters in the dining room. Sister Karen, Ezekiel’s birth mother, gives me a sad nod.
“Blessed morning, Zebadiah.”
“Blessed morning, Sister Karen. Where’s Ma?”
Nodding down the hall, she turns back to her cleaning. “She’s in her room, dear.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
I leave her to go to my mother’s chambers. Walking into her room, I find her at her vanity. As soon as I see the bluish bruises around her neck, in the mirror, I hold down a sob.
“I’m so sorry, Mama.”
She gives me a small smile that does nothing to comfort me. “Come here, baby.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not your baby, Ma. I’m nearly a grown man.”
“You’ll always be my baby. Now come here.”
I go to her and do my best to mask my own discomfort as I kneel on the floor at her feet. “He hurt you because of me.”
She reaches out to hold my face. “Why did you do it, sweetheart? Why would you risk your soul for that girl?”
I love my mother more than almost anything, but I hate her talking about Laurel Ann like this is all her fault. “’That girl’ is my best friend, and she was terrified when she got her blood. Rightfully so, look what happened!”
“This is her purpose, Zebadiah. I know you care for her, just know that this, too, shall pass.”
“Yeah…”
“Zaaron always has a plan. You know that.”
Sometimes I get the sense that she can’t have a single original thought. All of her words are my father’s. I often wonder who the twelve-year-old girl who was bound to him was.
“I need to get to school.”
She nods as she turns back to her vanity. “Of course, sweetheart. Have a blessed day.”
I stand and kiss her temple. “You have a blessed day, too, Ma.”
Leaving out the back to minimize my chance of seeing my father, I walk to the schoolhouse. On the way, I realize I’ve never been to school without Laur. I don’t want to go without her there, and in this moment, I decide I’m not going to.
I slip behind the general store, watching across the common ground until Sister Madeline closes the schoolhouse doors. The area will become run with people if I wait much longer, so I sprint across the dirt and run between the tabernacle and the school. Once I’m behind the tabernacle, I clutch the slicing pain in my side and press my back against the wooden shingles. I take a big breath and crouch down to crawl beneath my father’s office window at the back of the tabernacle. Slowly lifting up to peek inside, I look just long enough to see my father sitting at his desk.
My feet take off as fast as they will go, and I attempt to ignore the sharpness intensifying in my side until I get back home. When I reach the road in front of my house, I finally slow down.
I climb the porch steps, walk through the front door, and nearly run into Sister Karen.
“My goodness, child, why aren’t you at your lessons?”
Clutching my stomach and groaning, I say, “I’m feeling ill. I don’t think I can make it through a whole day at school.” It’s not exactly a lie.
She presses her hand to my forehead. “You are flushed and a little warm.” She nods her head toward the hallway. “Go lie down. Get some rest.”
Walking to my r
oom, I look over my shoulder to make sure she isn’t watching me, and cross the hall to my father’s study. Once I’m behind the closed door, my eyes scan the room for Laurel Ann’s clothes. I hate that he has them.
I search through his desk when my eyes land on the closet door. Swinging it open, I see the box Mia gave him, on the top shelf. I step on a stool to reach up and grab it. Once it’s safely in my clutches, I lift the lid and find Laurel Ann’s bloomers laying on top. I take them from the box, ripping off a small piece of the fabric, and shoving it in my pocket. My heart pounds at what could happen if I were caught, and the fear adds to my urgency. Quickly tucking the rest of her bloomers and petticoat under my arm, I close the empty box, and return it to the closet. The door creaks when I open it, causing me to freeze and listen for my mothers. I stick my head out, seeing the coast is clear, and sneak back across the hall.
My stomach spasms at nearly completing my task. Quietly closing my bedroom door, I creep over to my bed and reach into my pocket to pull out the piece of bloody fabric. The material is soft between my fingers as I shove it beneath my mattress. Once I roll the remaining undergarments into a ball, I wrap one of my older shirts around it. With a tender touch, I slowly open my window and push myself through. I land with a thud on the dirt and bite my cheek to stifle my groan.
With a stroke of luck, I escape my ranch unseen. Throwing the bundle of clothes over my shoulder, I run to the waste site.
DURING A TIME OF QUESTIONING, the accused is not to have contact with anyone in the compound other than immediate family and persons from the holy bloodline. This time is primarily to ponder on what I desire most in life. Is it the wants of my own flesh, or is it to serve and obey Zaaron, our God? There is no better way to soul search than hard work.
I am made to deep clean every part of inside the house. I scrub the floors that the children keep tracking on, clean every single window, polish all of the furniture, and do about four hundred other tedious tasks that make my body ache. Since I can’t leave the house, I help Sister Esther with the children. I make them food as she breastfeeds baby Paul, wash out the dirty diapers while she tries to get two-year-old William to stop eating baby Bridget’s hair, and run little Phillip to the washroom so he doesn’t soil his trousers.
