And then the conversation turned to discussions about how much power the government should have over everyday life and what constituted religious practice. It was fascinating to me, and I was riveted every night.
I was saving money when I got paid. I was warm and safe. Things were going well for me.
It amazed me, because I’d always been told that people like the ones on the ranch were the most evil people of all. Most of them didn’t believe in God. Most of them weren’t married and didn’t respect marriage vows. Some of them even had homosexual sexual relations, and some seemed to find sexuality a fluid concept, meaning that they could switch back and forth between genders on a whim. In terms of the way I’d been raised, they were about as wicked as they came.
The thing was, they weren’t wicked at all.
They were the warmest and kindest people I’d met since I’d left the community. They didn’t judge me for stupid actions like drug use.
I knew that I wasn’t going to be kicked out of this place for no good reason. It wasn’t so much that they didn’t have rules here, but the rules didn’t have to do with a standard of “good” and “bad” behavior. It was more that they didn’t want people not pulling their weight or taking advantage of the goodwill of the ranch.
River told me that they’d kicked people out for stealing a few times. And he said that not all drugs were created equal, either. River personally stuck with natural substances, so he wouldn’t take anything chemical, but there were others on the ranch who didn’t share his views. However, they were in all in agreement that using heroin or crystal meth was pretty much playing with fire. Still, they’d probably wait until the drug use caused some sort of other problem, like keeping the person consistently from their work, before they’d even start discussing asking that person to leave.
I liked River’s way of thinking, because it made sense. I felt like so much of the world didn’t make sense, but these people were out here, experimenting with everything, throwing out all the rules, figuring it all out. It was like being part of a social science experiment to see just what worked and what didn’t. Since my early life had been full of so many rules that didn’t make any kind of sense, it was exactly where I wanted to be.
But occasionally, I would remember that first night on mushrooms, when I’d seen the vision of Abby, and it would tear into me that I was here, free and happy, and she was back there.
Finally, I said something to River about it. “There’s a girl back there that I want to get out. If I did, could I bring her here?”
“Yeah, that might be all right,” said River. “But are you sure she wants out?”
I wasn’t. That was the thing. Abby had made it clear that she wanted to stay in the community. “I don’t know if that matters. She shouldn’t be there. It’s not good for her. I have to get her away from those people, even if she doesn’t know it yet.”
“If you go and kidnap her and force her to leave,” said River, “then she’ll just run right back. Sounds to me like what you’d need to do is go be close and spend a lot of time slowly convincing her to leave. And it sure would be easier to spare you here in the winter. Think you can put off your rescue mission a few months?”
I could see the sense in what he was saying, but I felt guilty for leaving Abby there. Sometimes I felt like I should have pushed harder when I tried to get her to come along in the first place. But I also knew that it would have been ten times tougher for the two of us to have made it out here together. It had been so hard for me on my own.
River put his hand on my shoulder. “You hardly know who you are yet. You’re still figuring so much out. Give it a little time, Jesse. You want to do it right.”
* * *
Abby
I woke up in the middle of the night to very painful cramps, and I was delighted to see that there was blood between my legs.
My period!
I wasn’t pregnant.
But when I soaked through the menstrual pad I put on in less than an hour, and I was in too much pain to go back to sleep, I began to wonder if that was what was really going on.
I put on another pad. We used cloth pads in the community that we sewed ourselves. They were made from fabric scraps and they attached to a harness snapped into our underwear. I tried to go back to bed, but I was in too much pain, and I could feel the blood gushing out of me at an alarming rate.
It had been months since I’d had my period. I sat up in bed, groaning, and I knew I had to face the facts. I wasn’t getting my period. I was having a miscarriage.
I didn’t know what to do, but the bleeding was so heavy and so painful that I ended up in the bathtub for the rest of the night, bleeding out the beginnings of Bob’s baby.
It was a long, long night—the most painful thing I thought I’d ever experienced. There was so much blood, and I felt as if something had reached into my womb and was dragging sharp claws against the walls, ripping me open and dragging out my insides.
But I didn’t want to wake up the rest of the house, so I gritted my teeth through it as I tried not to make too much noise.
It went on and on, heavy blood and intense cramping.
But somehow—I guess I was really exhausted—I fell asleep in the bathtub sometime after dawn.
When I didn’t appear at breakfast, the other wives sent Holly after me, and she found me in the bloody bathtub. The poor girl was terrified.
I woke up to her screaming, “Abigail’s dead! Abigail’s dead!” as she ran from the room.
All of the wives and children came running.
When the wives saw that I wasn’t dead, they immediately hurried the children out of the room and helped me get cleaned up.
They sat me down on the bed. Fern and May each took one of my hands. Even Sally seemed sympathetic.
“I’ve had two miscarriages,” she told me. “You’re lucky you weren’t too far along. My last one was six months in, and I actually delivered a stillborn fetus.” Her face twisted in pain.
I felt bad for her, but—well, I didn’t feel too bad for myself. The miscarriage was painful and horrid, but I was far too relieved by the thought that I wasn’t actually going to have to have a baby to really feel too bad about it.
But the other wives were being nice to me, and I liked that.
“You poor thing,” said Fern.
“I’m so sorry,” said May.
“We’ll take you off the schedule for a few weeks,” said Fern.
“Yes, you’ll need a break from relations with Bob,” said May.
My heart swelled in gratitude. This miscarriage was basically the best thing that had ever happened to me. “Thank you so much,” I said to them. And for the first time, I felt the bond I was supposed to feel with my other wives, like we were all partners in one family, like they were my best friends.
And then Fern said, “Of course, you’ll have to tell him what happened. You and Bob are going to meet with Gideon this afternoon, aren’t you? You can tell him then.”
My happy feeling burst immediately.
I’d forgotten all about that meeting with Gideon. Bob had confirmed to me that we were to go and see him. Bob didn’t know why, but he seemed nervous, and that didn’t make me feel good at all.
* * *
We met with Gideon in his office in his home. Susannah answered the door when we arrived, but she wouldn’t look me in the eye. I wasn’t sure if she knew what was going on or not, but all signs pointed to something bad.
Bob wasn’t in a good mood. He’d reacted angrily to the miscarriage, telling me that it was the wrath of God being visited upon me because I was so disobedient. He said that if I’d been more submissive, this would have never happened. He said that I’d caused the death of his child.
When I thought about how happy I’d been over the miscarriage, I felt extremely guilty. What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be like other women, happy over the prospect of having children, happy with my husband, happy with his family?
A
s he’d lectured me, I’d tried to hold back my tears, but they’d come out in a flood. I told myself it was probably hormones from the miscarriage, but that didn’t make it hurt any less.
Bob had shut up after I’d started crying, even though he hadn’t done much to try to comfort me.
Now, going into Gideon’s office, I’d barely managed to pull myself back together.
Gideon was sitting behind his desk. He looked solemn. He gestured for both of us to sit down on the opposite side of the desk. We did.
“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve called you here,” said Gideon.
“Absolutely,” said Bob. He was trying to sound easy going and friendly, but I could hear a bit of nervousness in his voice. “So, what can we do for you?”
Gideon narrowed his eyes on me. “I’d like to ask your wife a few questions, if I may?”
“Certainly,” said Bob, but he sounded even more nervous. He glared at me, and I knew that he was worried that I’d say the wrong thing.
I felt even more pressure.
“Abigail,” said Gideon, “can you explain to me why you’ve been helping out Sheila with delivering babies.”
I took a deep breath. “Well,” I said in what I hoped was a soft, respectful voice, “I really felt that the Lord was calling me to be of service and so I asked if I could—”
“You felt the Lord calling?” said Gideon.’
“Yes.”
“That is not the Lord, Abigail. The Lord does not speak directly to a married woman. She gets all of her communication through her husband. Man is the head of woman, just as Christ is the head of the church.”
Oh. This was bad. He was quoting scripture at me, and he was going to force me to stay home and have relations with Bob all the time. But I couldn’t let that happen. I took another deep breath. “Gideon, there are women in scripture who received direct inspiration from God. Ruth, for instance, is told by God—”
“Ruth was not yet married to Boaz,” said Gideon. “You, however, are a married woman.”
“I’ve told her this,” Bob spoke up. “But she’s always this way. She’s not the least bit respectful. She’s willful and disobedient.”
Gideon held up a finger. “I’ll speak to you in a moment, Bob. For now, I’d like to talk to Abigail.”
Bob bowed his head.
I was stunned to see that he was submitting to Gideon in that way. Bob was an elder, and Gideon shouldn’t have that much authority over him. Apparently, though, he did.
“You will no longer be assisting Sheila, unless your husband thinks it’s necessary. Is that clear?”
I wanted to protest, but I could see it was pointless. I nodded, feeling miserable.
“Good.” Gideon turned away from me to Bob. “Now, Bob, I heard your protest, and I’m surprised at you. Like Adam in the garden, you blame the weaker vessel when you know the sin is your own.”
Bob furrowed his brow. He hadn’t been expecting that.
“Yes,” said Gideon, “I’d heard from others that you’d been complaining about your new wife, and laying all the blame for her willful behavior at her feet. But you know that it is your job to lead your wife in righteousness. Any sins that she commits are now your sins, because you are responsible for her. You are the head, and your family is the body. Now if a hand reaches out to sin, is it the hand’s fault?”
Bob’s face was getting red. “No,” he mumbled.
“Of course not. It is no more Abigail’s fault that she is sinning than it would be the fault of the hand. It is your fault. You need to get your wife in line, because she needs a strong spiritual head to be confirmed in glory in the last days. And if she is willful, it is because of some fault in you.”
I wasn’t sure how to take this. Of course, it made sense according to scripture, but I didn’t want to be a mindless limb attached to Bob’s will. I was my own person, and I could make my own decisions. I didn’t want Bob to completely control me. Still, I couldn’t help but enjoy watching him get chastised.
“Of course,” Bob said in a barely controlled voice.
“Well, then,” said Gideon. “I hope I don’t hear anymore about this. It would be a shame if you proved unworthy of the blessing of this wife. Perhaps, then, she would be taken from you. Perhaps all your wives would be taken from you.”
Bob’s eyes widened.
I was shocked as well. I’d never heard of such as thing. Once people were married, they were married for life. But I had to admit that I wouldn’t object to not being Bob’s wife. But what would happen to me?
“If the Lord tells me to reassign them to more worthy stewards, I would have to do God’s will,” said Gideon.
“That won’t be necessary,” said Bob, through gritted teeth.
“I would hope not,” said Gideon.
* * *
Bob was furious on the drive home, too furious to speak. I sat next to him with my hands folded in my lap. With every moment that Bob didn’t speak, I began to grow more and more apprehensive. I’d never seen Bob this angry before. Even the time that he’d spanked me, he hadn’t been quite this worked up.
When we got back to the house, Bob dragged me back to my bedroom and threw me into the wall.
It hurt, and I was still suffering from the end of the miscarriage, which meant that I was still bleeding. The cramps were only about as bad as regular period cramps now, but I was still in bad shape.
He advanced on me. “You will obey me, Abigail.”
I cringed. “Bob, I do obey you.”
He slapped my cheek.
It stung, and I put my hand to my skin in shock.
“You will obey me in everything,” he said. “And you will do it with a willing heart. I won’t let a little bitch like you ruin my entire life.”
I cowered against the wall.
Bob took me by the shoulders. He shook me—hard. My teeth slammed painfully into each other. He slammed me back into the wall.
I winced.
“You will submit to me.”
“I do submit,” I said. I was starting to cry again.
“Then you’ll give yourself to me right now,” he said.
I didn’t know what he meant.
“Take off your dress.”
“Bob,” I said. “I’m having a miscarriage. I’m bleeding. I—”
“Take off your dress,” he snarled.
When I didn’t, he yanked me away from the wall and pushed me face down into the bed. He pulled my dress up to my waist, baring my legs.
“Don’t,” I said. “Please, don’t. Not right now.”
“You see?” he said. “You’re not submitting.”
I was sobbing. I felt so humiliated. “Please.”
He ripped my underwear off and forced my legs apart.
And something hard and angry went through me. My tears dried up, and suddenly, I didn’t much care about being submissive or obedient or getting right with God. God had forsaken me, near as I could tell. If this was the life he wanted for me, there wasn’t much I could do about it, but I was through trying to like it or submit to it. I clenched my jaw. “Don’t,” I said again, only this time, I was angry.
I could hear him unzipping his pants.
“Bob, if you do this now, I will never let you do this to me ever again,” I snapped.
He only laughed. “You’ll do what I want you to do.”
And he was inside me.
It hurt. Everything in that part of my body was tender and swollen.
He wasn’t gentle. He was slamming in and out of me, and he didn’t seem to care that I was bleeding.
I cried out in pain.
He cracked me on the back of the head. “Shut up.”
I grabbed handfuls of the quilt on the bed and squeezed. I screamed silently into the covers.
Never again, I promised myself. Never again.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Abby
Fern had kept me off the schedule for two weeks, true to her word, so I had time to figur
e out what I was going to do. I was serious when I said that I wasn’t going to let Bob ever have relations with me again. Maybe it meant that I was going to Hell, but I didn’t think Hell could be much worse than letting Bob do that to me every fourth night for the rest of my life.
I didn’t come up with a lot of usable ideas. Bob was stronger than me, and I wasn’t sure if I could fight him off if it came to a physical fight. But I hadn’t really attempted to struggle, not before. All of the other times, I really had submitted to him.
I resolved that I’d show him what it was really like to have a wife that was disobedient.
The thought gave me a grim satisfaction that couldn’t have been godly, but I didn’t care. God didn’t love me. He’d proven it over and over again. I was on my own, and this was one thing that I could do for myself.
However, my relationships with the other wives in the house actually started to improve. Sally stopped being so horrible to me. She was very helpful as I recovered from my miscarriage, offering to take over chores for me so that I could rest. I was grateful to her, and her children started to warm up to me as well.
Fern and May were sympathetic and sweet.
I didn’t think it would last long, of course. Once I started actively resisting Bob, I knew that they’d all decide I was sinful and unworthy. But for the weeks I had, I cherished the fact that I actually felt accepted in the family.
One afternoon, Sally and I were working on making bread together.
We were actually giggling, talking about the way that Bob didn’t like crusts on his sandwiches, as if he were still a little boy or something.
And then someone knocked on the door.
“Holly,” called Sally. “Can you answer that, please?”
Now that all the children were home from school, they were all there all the time. I’d tried to spend some time with them, helping them with studies, but it was chaotic and difficult to get them to pay attention in a different environment than school. Furthermore, the older children said that they didn’t need me to teach them anything. They were convinced that, since I’d taught the smaller children, I was only qualified to teach little ones.
The wives and I hadn’t discussed Gideon’s decision, though I could see that they weren’t particularly pleased with it. I knew that the few hours that the children were away was a time when they could focus on other work instead of caring for the children. Having them home simply made their lives harder.
Out of Heaven's Grasp Page 17
