Sins of a Shaker Summer

by Deborah Woodworth

  Rose veered off to her right, toward the cemetery. As she did so, she heard a wail coming from somewhere in the hills to her left. She stopped and listened. Wild dogs sometimes roamed the area, looking for food they could no longer get from equally hungry humans. Perhaps one was ill or injured.

  Rose waited for several minutes, but the cry was not repeated. She began walking again, but she’d gone no more than a few steps when she heard sounds that were distinctly more human. At least, she had never heard a dog call out to the angels by name. She hurried toward the voice, though some instinct told her to approach quietly.

  The hilly area had been allowed to grow wild. Misshapen trees, some many decades old, ringed the land in a scraggly circle. By this time of year, the undergrowth was knee-high. Since the land was unusable, no one had beaten down any paths, so Rose picked her way through the weeds and brambles as best she could. She tried not to think about what she might step on.

  Rose followed the bursts of talking and came to a small stand of trees at the foot of a steep slope. The voice was close. She edged as close to the hill as she could, knowing the trees kept her hidden in deep shadow.

  At the top of the hill, silhouetted in moonlight, stood Sister Patience. At first Rose thought she must be in another trance, but her gestures were tame, everyday. She seemed to be conversing with someone Rose couldn’t see. She reached out with one hand, as if imploring, then sank to her knees and her mouth moved in prayer, though Rose could hear no words. The weight of her prayers seemed to push her toward the ground until she lay facedown, her arms stretched out in front of her.

  Perhaps this is a trance, after all, Rose thought. She watched and waited. If Patience didn’t move soon, she should intercede. Just as she was about to move out of her hiding place, Patience drew herself slowly up to her knees, then leaned back on her feet and pushed to a standing position. Again she conversed with the wind, but this time, it seemed, with pleasure rather than in supplication. Rose had never seen Patience’s face lit with joy before; the emotion transformed her stern features into dark beauty.

  Patience reached out with both hands this time, then drew them back, cupped as if something had been poured into them. The gesture was similar to her movement in the sweeping gift when she had taken the symbolic fire. However, instead of sprinkling invisible fire, she placed the object on the ground and sat in front of it. She leaned over it and broke off a piece, then put it in her mouth and chewed with ecstasy. In six more bites, she had consumed the invisible food.

  The movements struck a chord in Rose’s memory, but she couldn’t identify it yet. She knew she hadn’t seen anything like this before, but perhaps she had read about it. Had Agatha described it? She would ask as soon as possible.

  Patience began to speak, more loudly this time, so Rose could catch a word here and there. It sounded like a prayer of thanks for what Patience called “celestial food.”

  With a sudden twist of her body, Patience faced toward Rose and started to march down the hill, singing a lively but unfamiliar tune. In her curiosity, Rose had stepped around her protective tree. In her dark blue dress, the shadows might still hide her, but if Patience continued toward her, she would surely be exposed. Her first impulse was to jump back behind the tree, but a split second of thought told her the movement would make her more visible. She stayed where she was, rigid and still as the trees around her, trying to govern her ragged breathing as Patience marched directly toward her.

  Halfway down from the crest of the hill, Patience stopped, did a marching turn, and circled the circumference two times. Rose slid back into her hiding place before Patience returned to the summit and stopped.

  Again Patience prostrated herself in prayer, then stood and accepted an invisible object from invisible hands. This one she held to her lips and sipped. After placing the vessel on the ground with care, she twirled around it, her arms flung out from her sides.

  The pantomime repeated, again and again, each time with a different nourishment and a unique response. The fascination had worn off, and Rose felt her knees begin to buckle. Her determination to have it out with Patience had dimmed long ago. Yet she kept watching. Patience was exerting enormous energy for someone eating only air. Rose herself was almost fainting from exhaustion, and she longed to know how Patience kept going. Perhaps she was witnessing a true gift?

  Finally Rose conceded. She considered interrupting Patience’s activities, but to intrude upon a gift would be considered tantamount to unbelief. As eldress, she could not afford to give such an impression, especially as she herself inched toward accepting the gift as true. She left Patience enjoying yet another celestial dish and made her weary way back to the Ministry House and a few hours of sleep.

  FOURTEEN

  IN HIS SEARCH FOR A RAG TO CLEAN OFF HIS WORK SPACE Sunday morning, Andrew opened the closet door in the Medicinal Herb Shop, and out tumbled Gennie. At least, she felt as if she’d tumbled out. She’d been jolted awake by the sound of someone’s shoes approaching the closet, but hoisting herself to a standing position in the narrow space proved difficult for her stiff joints. By steadying herself with one elbow against the wall and the other against the door, she had achieved a crouch when the door opened, removing half her support. She tilted sideways and sat down sharply.

  Andrew stared at her, his mouth slightly open but no words forming. Gennie rolled to her knees and winced as her sore neck complained. Still mute, Andrew reached down and pulled Gennie to her feet. He showed no embarrassment over having touched a woman—and a young, worldly one, at that.

  “What . . . ? Are you all right?” he asked, as she brushed clouds of dust from her wrinkled work dress.

  “Fine, thanks,” Gennie said, aiming for a sunny grin. She searched her groggy mind but could find nothing to say that would reasonably explain her presence in the closet. So she didn’t mention it. “Gosh,” she said, rushing toward the front door, “it must be close to breakfast time. Rose will be wondering where I am.”

  “Now, wait a minute,” Andrew said. “You can’t just roll out of the closet and run off. What in heaven’s name were you doing in there?”

  “Really, it would take too long, and Rose will be worried if I’m not at breakfast, so perhaps we could talk later?” Gennie whirled around and reached for the doorknob just as the door opened. Benjamin and Thomas appeared. She couldn’t stop in time and crashed into Thomas’s beefy torso. He didn’t budge as Gennie’s small body bounced off him and she stumbled backward. This time Benjamin caught her before she fell. Wonderful, Gennie thought, now all I need is to find that Patience has been watching and will denounce me at worship for touching three brethren, all before breakfast.

  The three men encircled Gennie, so a casual rush for the door would be awkward. Though she couldn’t tell them, she feared she was late making the first of her promised twice-daily calls to Grady. If he didn’t hear from her, he’d come roaring into the village, and that would be an even bigger mess than she was in now. She tried her grin again, but she could sense its feebleness. She glanced around at the brethren’s faces. Thomas’s features were tight with irritation, Andrew still looked befuddled, and Benjamin exuded anger and suspicion.

  “What were you two doing in here alone together so early in the morning?” Benjamin asked.

  “I have no idea,” Andrew said. He shrugged his shoulders with such innocence that Gennie realized the implications of Benjamin’s question had escaped him.

  Benjamin’s frown deepened. “How can you not know?”

  “What I meant was, we weren’t here together. I just found her here in—”

  “What Andrew means is that I just came here to do a bit of cleaning up before Patience started to work again after breakfast,” Gennie said with breathless speed. “After all, I am being paid to help, and there’s so little I can do yet—until I learn more about medicinal herbs, which I truly want to do, and I plan to study up on them right away. In fact, I haven’t heard the breakfast bell, so maybe I’ll have s
ome time to start my studies right now, if I hurry.”

  As Gennie inched around Thomas, she flashed a wide-eyed, pleading glance at Andrew. For once, he seemed to comprehend, for though he had no reason to do so, he kept quiet about finding her in the broom closet. But a warning look in his eye told her she’d best explain herself soon, or his silence wouldn’t last forever.

  Neither Thomas nor Benjamin appeared convinced, but they stood aside and let her pass. The breakfast bell rang as Gennie lifted her skirts and sprinted through the grass toward the Ministry House. She could feel the disapproving stares of Believers following the paths to the Center Family dining room, but she couldn’t afford to slow down and heed the rules. She had to get to a phone, and fast. She picked up her pace, kicking up dust as she crossed the central path.

  She was too late. She knew it as soon as the Ministry House came into view, with a dirt-streaked black Buick parked crookedly on the grass beside it. Grady had already arrived. Gennie stopped abruptly and stood in front of the building, panting. The front doors of the Ministry House opened. Rose stepped through one door, Wilhelm and Grady through the other. Gennie groaned. She did not fear Wilhelm’s wrath or Grady’s scolding so much as she regretted letting Rose down. Her behavior reflected on Rose. She steeled herself and began to walk toward the group.

  “Gennie!” Grady bolted through the grass toward her, then swept her up in his arms. “My sweet one, what happened? Where have you been?” He held her away from him and looked at her disheveled condition. “My God, has anyone—”

  “Grady, I’m fine, truly. No one has done anything to me, and to be honest, I just don’t think I have the energy to explain right now.” The effects of her brief sleep scrunched up in a closet were catching up with her.

  “Thy lack of energy is of no concern to us, young woman. Explain thyself.” Wilhelm folded his thick arms over his chest and glared at her. Even Rose looked a bit cross. Gennie ran her hand through her rumpled hair, which only served to draw attention to her unkempt appearance. She couldn’t tell the truth; that would start an uproar. She’d be thrown out, and Rose would be embarrassed. Yet she couldn’t lie to Rose. So she fainted. It was all she could think of, and it was a lie, of course, but a lesser one, she hoped. Grady caught her. She hung limply and prayed she’d be carried to the Infirmary—and that Wilhelm would lose interest in a weak female.

  “Let’s get her to Josie at once,” Rose said. “Wilhelm, I don’t know how long this will take, and I’m sure you want to get back to your work. I’ll deal with this.”

  Wilhelm grunted. Gennie was tempted to open her eyes to see if he’d left, but she resisted. She let herself hang as deadweight in Grady’s arms until she heard Josie’s alarmed voice and felt herself being placed on a bed. Then she fluttered her eyelids. She almost went into a real faint when she saw the thunderheads gathering in Rose’s eyes, and she knew she was in serious trouble when Rose sent Josie and a protesting Grady from the room, telling them to close the door behind them.

  Rose sighed deeply and crossed her arms. Gennie sucked on her lower lip, a habit she’d formed in childhood whenever she’d incurred Rose’s wrath.

  “The next time you feign a faint,” Rose said, “remember to fall flat on your face. Don’t tilt so conveniently toward someone’s arms. It’s a dead giveaway.” She pulled a visitor’s chair next to the bed. “Now, tell me what happened to you. Have you been hurt in any way?” Rose’s tone had lightened. Relieved, Gennie sat up and curled her legs underneath her.

  She shook her head. “Only my dignity,” she said.

  “I am more interested in the truth than in dignity,” Rose said.

  A momentary sadness drifted through Gennie’s heart as she realized how far she had wandered from Shaker teachings. Dignity was, of course, a thing of the world. A Believer would willingly mortify herself if it truly glorified God. Pride was unimportant—or worse, it was a hindrance, since it could so easily spill over into hubris.

  Gennie told Rose, in precise detail, about her night in the closet of the Medicinal Herb Shop. Rose’s expression grew puzzled, but she made no comment as Gennie described what she’d seen in the shop’s journals. Nor did she share her thoughts when Gennie had finished. Instead, she stood and silently replaced the chair on its wall pegs. She gave Gennie a warm hug to show that all was well between them.

  “Get some rest,” she said, “and then go to the kitchen and tell Gertrude I said to give you a late breakfast. Then rest some more.”

  “But—”

  “Rest, Gennie. I want you well and out of sight for the time being. Wilhelm has a great deal on his mind and may forget about you if you don’t remind him with your presence. Then perhaps I won’t be faced with the need to lie to him about your experiences.”

  “You would lie to him?”

  Rose rubbed her forehead, as if it hurt. Blue-black circles underlined her eyes, and Gennie wondered if she had slept at all the night before. “May God forgive me, sometimes it is necessary.” She gently brushed Gennie’s cheek with her fingers. “I can’t make sense of what has been happening these last few days, but I’m quite certain that something is wrong in the Medicinal Herb Shop. I don’t know how dangerous it is. If what happened to Nora and Betsy is connected to the shop, then it may be life-threatening, and I want you to be safe. Do not work at the shop today.”

  “But I—”

  “Make me a promise, Gennie.”

  Gennie sighed like a frustrated adolescent. “All right, I promise not to work at the Medicinal Herb Shop today.”

  Rose had missed breakfast, which was just as well, since it meant she also missed seeing Wilhelm. She decided that Patience had been fasting enough for both of them, so she stopped at the Center Family kitchen for some leftover brown bread. Gertrude and the kitchen sisters were cleaning when she arrived.

  “My dear, how I wish you’d been at breakfast,” Gertrude called to her as she entered. “You missed everything! Oh, haven’t you eaten? No wonder you are much too thin. Here, sit and eat and I’ll tell you what happened. You will be astonished.” After years of kneading bread and wielding heavy trays, first as a kitchen sister and then as Kitchen Deaconess, Gertrude could move quickly and lift as much as most of the brethren. With one arm she snatched a wooden chair from a wall peg, then swept up a plate of bread chunks with the other. After pulling up another chair for herself, she took a deep breath and began speaking, her dishwater-roughened hands waving in excitement.

  “If it had been any other day, I wouldn’t have seen it, but wouldn’t you know, today one of the kitchen sisters was ill, so I said I’d do the serving, since it’s so much easier for me than for the others, who are so tiny I’m surprised they can lift themselves.”

  Rose waited. For once, she wasn’t impatient with Gertrude’s rambling conversation; it gave her a chance to chew.

  “Well, I was delivering some more water pitchers to the sisters—everyone has been drinking so much water nowadays, what with this dreadful heat. I’d already brought more to the brethren, so I thought, well, I’d better do the same for the sisters. I’d just set a pitcher down next to Irene, and I heard her whisper, which, of course, she shouldn’t have been doing at mealtime, but I could understand why, what with that woman never eating anything at all, and how can she keep that tall body of hers going, that’s what I’d like to know.”

  Rose swallowed quickly. “Patience was at breakfast, then?”

  “Yea, that’s what I was saying. And I’d have known she was there even if I hadn’t seen her myself, because I’ve gotten so’s I can recognize her plate when it comes back. She just takes a little bit of everything, you see, and then she cuts it in tiny pieces and mashes it around the plate so it looks like leftovers, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I know my leftovers!” Gertrude leaned back in her chair with an emphatic nod.

  Rose, as usual, was confused, but rather than worry about it, she sought the right question. “And you saw something having to do with Patience?” she asked.
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  “Indeed I did. Patience and Irene. Irene leaned over and whispered to her, and what with me being so close, I could hear. Irene was concerned—she’s such a sweet girl, isn’t she? She saw that Patience was only pretending to eat, and she was worried, so she whispered to Patience that she knew it was awfully hot but to try and eat even a little bit, even if it didn’t taste very good, just to keep up her strength. And that’s when it happened. My heavens, I nearly dropped my last water pitcher, and what a mess that would have been. Patience jumped up from the bench so fast she jolted everyone else.” To demonstrate—or, Rose suspected, simply to dramatize—Gertrude jumped to her feet, and her chair scraped behind her. The other kitchen sisters had paused in their work to watch the show.

  “Then she held out her arm, like this, and pointed her finger right at Irene’s face, no more than an inch from her nose, and then as loud as could be, she shouted at the poor girl. She said, ‘Harlot!’ A harlot, she called her. Little Irene. Anyway, she said, ‘Harlot! You have sinned and sinned again! Not one but two!’” Gertrude sat down and leaned toward Rose. “What do you suppose she meant by that?”

  “I don’t know,” Rose said.

  The kitchen phone rang. Gertrude jumped up to answer it before any of the other kitchen sisters could get to it. The telephone was, after all, an instrument for gossip.

  Rose leaned back to consider the implications of Gertrude’s story. “Not one but two,” Patience had said. Irene seemed so content as a sister. Could she really be breaking her vows with both Thomas and Benjamin? Or could the sins refer to something else in Irene’s past—or present?

  A cry from across the kitchen jolted Rose out of her thoughts. She turned her head, as did the other sisters, to see Gertrude hang up the phone receiver and put her face in her hands. Polly ran to her and guided her to a chair. Rose and the others gathered around. They waited in silence as Gertrude sobbed, knowing they were about to hear bad news, and willing to avoid hearing it for a few more moments.