A grimace of irritation crossed Benjamin’s handsome face as Rose took the seat next to Irene. Rose glanced to her side. Irene’s impassive expression told her nothing. Either Irene did not feel toward Benjamin as he seemed to toward her, or she was skilled at subterfuge.
Neither of her companions rushed to speak, so Rose asked, “How are your experiments in the Medicinal Herb Shop coming along, Benjamin?”
Again irritation flashed across his face, but it cleared almost instantly. “Quite well,” he said, “as you know, of course, since we spoke of them only this morning.”
Rose smiled as if he had said something charming. She heard a small intake of breath from Irene. Good, Rose thought. Such rudeness would surely prevent Irene from feeling tempted by a forbidden relationship with Benjamin. At least, she hoped so.
“We never really spoke in depth about your work,” Rose said. “Have you a special interest you are following, or do you simply conduct the experiments Andrew chooses for you?”
Benjamin reddened as the gentle jab hit its mark. “Andrew knows nothing about my work,” he said. “He’s got some pharmacy training, book learning, but that’s about it. He’s a businessman.”
“I see. So you must have a more extensive background in medicinal herbs?”
“Indeed I do,” Benjamin said, arrogance marring his smooth voice. His gaze flickered to Irene and back to Rose. “I’ve studied the ancient uses of herbs as curatives, both in Europe and here among the Indians. I’m building on all that, and I’m close to developing some remarkable medicines.”
Rose nodded, momentarily speechless in the face of such pride. Had he confessed it to Elder Wilhelm? She thought not. He probably did not recognize hubris in himself. Moreover, she was sure this display was meant to impress Irene.
“Have you found anything that can help those poor little girls?” Irene asked.
“My guess is they don’t need anything else besides what Josie already did for them—a good, old-fashioned emetic and a sedative. They’ll come around when they’ve had enough rest, and maybe they’ll remember the emetic next time they’re tempted to get into the cleaning supplies.” Benjamin’s face softened as he spoke to Irene, but Rose thought she heard wariness in his voice.
“So you think that’s what happened?” Rose asked. “They sampled a cleaning solution? Those solutions are hardly appetizing, I’d think. Why would they do such a thing?”
“Why do children do anything?” With a wave of his hand, Benjamin dismissed the rationality of all children. “They probably did it to get attention. They need to be watched more carefully.”
“Those girls have suffered dreadfully, and I hardly think they knew what they were doing!” The forcefulness in Irene’s voice grabbed the attention of several Believers seated around her, who interrupted their own conversations to glance over with interest. Benjamin was too startled to speak. Rose settled back against the slats of her chair and waited a few moments before breaking the impasse.
“I was wondering, Benjamin,” she began when the interest around them had waned, “could the girls have gotten into something in the Medicinal Herb Shop or garden?”
“Nay, impossible. Their silly . . . I mean, their adventure took place in the afternoon, when all of us were in the shop. We can see the garden through the east window. The door and all the windows were open to let in some air, so we would surely have heard if children were giggling away outside.” He grimaced and glanced at Irene as he realized that more harsh words about children would likely displease Irene. Irene sniffed but did not speak. Rose tried to keep from smiling.
“When Gretchen found the girls, she said Nora thought she was a monster,” Rose said, “and at the healing—”
Benjamin’s lip lifted in a cynical arch, which hardened his attractive features.
“At the healing, Nora kept talking about a bad angel. Does any of that mean anything to you, Benjamin?”
“Nay, why should it?”
“I just wondered if, in your extensive study of the medicinal properties of herbs, you might have run across anything that might cause such a reaction.”
“Nay.” Benjamin’s gaze wandered off into the distance. He fidgeted with the round collar of his clean work shirt. He was hiding something; Rose could sense it. But she also knew this was not the time to push the issue.
SEVEN
THE RINGING OF THE BELL OVER THE CENTER FAMILY Dwelling House told Rose it was 4:30 A.M. Time to get up. She was already awake, though groggy after a restless sleep. The air had barely cooled through the night. Rose had longed to toss off her cotton nightgown and let her bare skin breathe in what little breeze fluttered through her open windows, but that would have been far too immodest. After all, she never locked her retiring room door. What if an emergency brought another Believer barging into her room while she was unclothed?
She slid out of bed and to her knees for a few moments of prayer, which she directed to Holy Mother Wisdom, the female aspect of God. Rose asked for insight as she sought to solve the riddle of Nora and Betsy’s illness.
Her work clothes hung on one of the wall pegs encircling her room. She eyed them with misgiving. They’d be hot, she knew, despite the loose fit and the light weight of the blue cotton. She pulled the long dress over her head and tied the white apron around her waist. Selecting a large white kerchief from a drawer, she arranged it over her shoulders and crossed the ends in a triangular pattern over the bodice of her dress. She pinned the ends under her apron, making sure to keep the kerchief loose over her bosom. The ensemble was designed to hide the female form to keep the brethren from temptation.
Though she was now eldress, Rose worked at daily chores, as did all able-bodied Believers. To consider herself above physical labor would be the height of hubris, and neither Rose nor Wilhelm would have entertained such a thought.
Already the room felt oppressive. Rose was grateful to lift her thick red hair off her neck and stuff it into her thin white cap. Folding the sheet at the end of her bed for airing out, she faced her morning chores, which had changed once she’d moved to the Ministry House. In the Trustees’ Office, she had shared a large building with a few other sisters, so mornings were spent in general tidying. Now she shared a small dwelling house with Elder Wilhelm, who lived on the ground floor. By now he would be out helping the rest of the brethren to feed the farm animals.
Rose slipped downstairs and entered Wilhelm’s empty retiring room. Her responsibilities included doing his cleaning and mending, as other sisters did for the brethren in their building. Being in Wilhelm’s room always felt uncomfortable to Rose because their relationship had been strained for years. Although she did not question her duties, caring for his clothing seemed like a step back to the time before she was eldress, when Wilhelm made sure she never forgot her lesser place. Shaking off her discomfort, she swept and straightened the two rooms and swiftly re-attached a button to a work shirt. As she knotted and snipped the thread, the bell rang for breakfast.
She quickly turned down the sheet of Wilhelm’s bed. As she did so, Rose noticed a book open and facedown on his bedside table. Submitting to a twinge of curiosity, she picked it up and turned it over, rather than leave it or simply close and reshelve it. Wilhelm had been reading the Testimonies of the Life, Character, Revelations and Doctrines of Mother Ann Lee. This was not unusual reading for a serious Believer, and Rose would have thought nothing of it, but the chapter he’d been studying was entitled “Prophecies, Visions and Revelations.” Again, if Wilhelm had been any other Believer, such reading would have been natural, especially for a spiritual leader. However, this was Wilhelm. In his longing to return to the past, he had become increasingly obsessed with a period one hundred years earlier, known now as Mother Ann’s Work. It had been a time when Mother Ann’s spirit had often been among them, inspiring almost constant trances, hundreds of new songs and dances, and scores of new converts. In her heart Rose wished she could have been part of that era, a time of growth and vibrancy in
the Society. But she knew that, practical in nature as she was, she would probably have been more observer and recorder than participant. She served her people in other ways.
Wilhelm’s soul lit up at any hint that Mother Ann had returned to do her work again among Believers. Because Elsa had exhibited such gifts of the spirit, Wilhelm protected her from Rose’s legitimate authority over her. And now Sister Patience seemed to demonstrate these same gifts, but in more depth and abundance than Elsa. Despite the growing heat, Rose shivered with both fear and excitement. She replaced the book as she had found it. With relief, she left Wilhelm’s room and headed for the Ministry dining room.
“I’ve sent two of the brethren to spread word throughout Languor that our worship service will be open on Sunday,” Wilhelm said as he smoothed a small portion of raspberry preserves on a thick slice of brown bread. “And I want to add a dance or two to the service—with Patience leading the sisters.”
Rose’s hand hesitated as she reached for her water glass, but she said nothing.
“Does this disturb thee?” Wilhelm took a large bite and watched Rose as he chewed.
Feeling his eyes on her, Rose spooned some preserves onto her plate, then began to spread it evenly across her bread. The silence thickened the already heavy air in the sunny room.
“I do not need to remind you that normally the eldress leads the sisters in the dancing,” Rose said.
Wilhelm sliced himself more bread. “Nay,” he said, “I need no such reminder.”
“I am not required to agree, as you also know,” Rose said, after enduring more moments of silence.
Wilhelm nodded once without looking at her.
“And why should I agree?”
Finally Wilhelm glanced at her, one bushy white eyebrow high over an ice-blue eye. “Because,” he said, “in the end we have the same hope, do we not? Is it not thy wish, as well as mine, that the Society thrive?”
“If it is God’s will,” Rose said.
“Of course.” Irritation tinged Wilhelm’s voice. “But we cannot sit by passively waiting for perfect understanding. We must push forward with all our might to know God’s will for us and to accomplish it. We know quite clearly that Mother Ann put herself in mortal danger to help the Society form and grow. She willingly let herself be imprisoned and starved for us.” Wilhelm’s eyes flared with blue flame, and his half-eaten bread lay forgotten on the plate before him.
“Wilhelm, Mother’s world isn’t our world. What we are meant to do may be quite different now.”
“Nonsense. Our mission is timeless. We are called to live as the angels, chaste and apart from the world.”
“Yea, indeed, but must we grow in number to fulfill this purpose?” As trustee of the North Homage Society, with her mind on practical matters, Rose had been exhausted by discussions such as this one. But lately, as she grew into her role as eldress, spiritual matters intrigued her more and more. She could feel herself rising to Wilhelm’s challenge.
“Of course we must grow,” Wilhelm said. “How else can we show the world a heaven on earth? Without our example, the world’s people will be hopeless slaves to their carnality.”
“And without their carnality, there would be no new Shakers,” Rose said, “and we could not grow.” She leaned back in her chair and tilted her head at Wilhelm, waiting for the powerful response she knew would come.
Wilhelm’s already ruddy complexion reddened. “Perhaps,” he said, “that would be for the best. I would welcome our own demise if it meant the end of carnal relations in the world.”
“But, Wilhelm, not everyone is called to—”
A swishing and panting sound drew their attention to the open entryway to the dining room. Elsa Pike steadied herself against the doorjamb, one hand spread across her neckerchief as if to hide the immodest heaving of her ample chest. Her cheeks flushed with exertion. She opened her mouth to speak but gasped in air instead.
“What is it, Elsa? What has happened?” Rose rushed to her side and reached an arm around her shoulders. “Steady now. Sit down and catch your breath.”
Elsa dropped into the chair Rose had just left. Ignoring Rose’s ministrations, she spoke directly to Wilhelm.
“It’s bad spirits,” she said, leaning her elbows on the table. “False spirits.”
“What do you mean, Elsa?” Rose asked, not sure she wanted to know. Wilhelm leaned forward, his face alight with eagerness.
“Elder, you gotta come stop her,” Elsa said. She’d caught her breath and was beginning to relish the drama she had created. Rose decided not to encourage her with any more questions; they were unnecessary anyway.
“It’s that Sister Patience,” Elsa continued, her voice hushed, as if she were speaking of the unspeakable. “She’s a witch. Those gifts of hers, they ain’t from Mother Ann or Holy Mother Wisdom or no one you’d ever want to know.”
Wilhelm’s eyebrows inched together over worried eyes, but otherwise he sat rigid, waiting. “Explain thyself,” he said.
A warning tinge to his voice seemed to quell Elsa’s dramatic tendencies. Rose, ignored by both of them, watched their faces. Wilhelm did not want to hear that Patience was evil—that much was clear—and Elsa was getting the hint. Yet she had always hungered to be the most gifted of Believers, and Patience was usurping that position. If she was wise, she would change direction instantly. But her craving easily overpowered her modest wisdom.
“Come and see for thyself, Elder,” Elsa said, remembering finally to use the archaic language Wilhelm preferred. “Patience is alone with them poor girls. She’s supposed to be taking her turn watchin’ them while Josie has breakfast, but sure as I’m sittin’ here, what she’s really doing is putting spells on them.”
“There! See what she’s doing?” Elsa pointed to Patience, who leaned over Nora’s cradle bed. Rose approached the bed close enough to see over the sides. The top of Patience’s hand lay across the girl’s cheek as if she were stroking it.
“They are still deeply asleep,” Patience said, glancing up at them without apparent concern.
“Ha!” Elsa said. “Josie said they was starting to come to, but now suddenly here they are sleeping like the dead again, and the only difference is, it ain’t Josie with them. Explain that!” With her sturdy legs planted apart and her fists on her plump hips, Elsa glared in triumph at Patience.
Rose was prepared to intervene, but one look at Patience stopped her. Patience straightened her back with catlike leisure and faced her accuser. The folds of her dark work dress seemed to elongate her tall body so she towered over the shorter, fuller Elsa. Her face remained impassive, though her dramatic dark coloring gave her a smoldering look.
“I wonder,” she said, “why you had such need to hurry over here when you heard the girls were awakening. Were you perhaps worried about what they might say?”
Flame spread across Elsa’s cheeks. “Me?!” She sputtered a moment, confused by the attack. Darting a worried glance at Wilhelm, Elsa drew herself as straight as she could. “I got no call to be worried,” she said. “Unlike some. Nay, I just wanted to help. I know a lot about herbs and such; learned it all growing up. I figured if the girls could tell me what they got into, I’d know how to help them.”
“They no longer need help,” Patience said.
“Why? What have you done to them?” Elsa asked, rushing toward Nora’s bed.
“I believe you saw that for yourself.” Patience’s voice had grown softer, as if she were calming an overexcited child. “Nora is healed. She has been near death, and she needs a long rest.”
Not satisfied, Elsa leaned over the sides of the cradle bed and touched Nora’s forehead. The girl stirred and moaned in her sleep. Betsy moaned in answer from her bed. Elsa straightened and turned to the group, her plain face lit with cunning.
“We saw something, all right,” Elsa said. “But about it being a healing, well, that’s what you told us, but that don’t make it so. I don’t believe it.”
“Why?” Wilh
elm barked out the question. After his long silence, the force of his voice jolted Rose. For Elsa, it seemed to be the question she’d been waiting for.
“Because, Elder, if it was really Mother Ann and Holy Mother Wisdom working, why’d they send Patience to Nora and not to Betsy? I don’t believe they’d do that—pick one little child out as better than the other for healing. They’d save both girls. Right, Elder?”
In the moment of silence that followed, Rose looked from face to face. Wilhelm said nothing, but he watched Patience with intensity. Elsa’s triumphant stance held a hint of uncertainty; she wasn’t used to engaging in logical reasoning. Patience herself relaxed; her generous mouth curved in a slight smile. She reminded Rose of Humility, the Society cat, when she knew she had a barn mouse cornered.
“Mother Ann was here indeed,” Patience began, her low voice silken, “with all the eldresses that followed her path and crowds of lovely angels dressed in white and gold.” Intensity deepened her voice. She closed her eyes and began to sway, as if reliving her trance. “All the sisters who have gone before us came to the aid of these innocent children, and Holy Mother Wisdom watched over us all. Every one of them guided my hands, sent healing through my hands.” She held her hands out in front of her, fingers spread apart.
Elsa looked worried. Her voice faltered, but she stood her ground. “Why’d they guide your hands only toward Nora, then? Why not poor little Betsy?”
With her arms still extended, Patience opened her eyes wide and stared at Elsa. “Because Betsy did not need healing,” she said. “Holy Mother Wisdom told me herself. She blew the message into my ear like a gentle wind, and I knew that Betsy would be well without my help. She was never as ill as Nora.” Patience lowered her arms and gazed around the small group. “Although none of you could have known that, of course.”
Sins of a Shaker Summer Page 5
