by Fleur Beale
For the second time that day, Abraham picked me up. I heard him and Luke talking. Doctor … shock.
Zillah said, ‘We have to ask Father. He’ll make her learn psalms if we don’t ask him first.’
Why was she crying?
‘I’m all right. I don’t need to go to the doctor. Put me down, Abraham. I can walk.’
‘Shut up,’ my brother said.
Luke opened the car door and buckled my seat belt for me.
‘I can do it. I’m fine.’
He took no notice. Zillah slid across to the middle seat so she could sit close to me. ‘You’re shivering and you’re all wet.’
Abraham made the engine roar, jerking the car as we moved off. I shut my eyes, glad of Zillah’s warmth as she snuggled close.
After a bit the car stopped. ‘Don’t we have to have an appointment?’ Luke asked.
Abraham just said, ‘Hold the door while I lift her out.’
‘Leave me alone. I’m not going to the doctor.’
‘Shut up, Magdalene. Put your arm round my neck. Zillah, stay with Luke.’ He marched off, carrying me.
I can walk. Put me down.
Doors swished open, and we were inside a big room full of staring people. Abraham strode up to the desk. ‘Can somebody see my sister right away? She’s in shock and she’s shredded her hands.’
Next, I was lying on a bed in a room not much bigger than the discipline room. Abraham was frowning. Luke and Zillah were there too, even though Abraham was telling them to leave.
A nurse came in. She shooed the others out, helped me out of my wet skirt and wrapped a blanket around me. ‘Let’s see those hands, my love.’ very carefully, she uncurled my fingers.
I stared at them. ‘I don’t know what happened. Why are they bleeding?’
‘Never mind that now. Let me get all this sand off. Be brave, honey. It’s probably going to hurt a bit.’ She talked in a sing-song voice as she poured water over my hands to wash away the sand and blood. It didn’t hurt much, although she kept telling me I was being brave. How did she think I’d behave? Seemly and modest. Didn’t she know girls had to be seemly and modest?
‘There we are, sweetheart. The doctor will have a look at you and then we’ll pop some bandages on.’
‘Please, I don’t want bandages. I can’t help Mother with bandages on.’
A man came in before she could answer. His name tag said Dr Alex Masters. ‘Hi there, Magdalene.’ He perched beside me on the bed and took my hands, turning them gently to look at my palms. His wedding ring felt smooth against my fingers. I wondered if he made his children learn psalms when they transgressed. He had a kind face even though he was frowning. ‘Hmm,’ he said, ‘you sure made a mess of your paws, little lady. You were at the beach?’
I nodded. ‘We went with Abraham.’
He moved to a chair and the nurse started to dress my hand and wrap it in a bandage. I tried to pull my hand away. ‘I can’t help Mother with bandages on.’
Doctor Alex said, ‘They’ll get better quicker this way, Magdalene. Tell me about the beach. Do you like it there?’
We weren’t supposed to talk to worldly people. But Elder Stephen said it was a sin to be sick. Did that mean it was all right to talk to a doctor? It was all too hard. ‘Yes. The beach is nice.’
He asked more questions. They were difficult because I couldn’t remember digging the hole, but my hands were stinging now and I’d seen the blood so I must have done it. It was frightening not to remember.
‘It’s all right, Magdalene. Don’t fret about it. I’ve had a chat to Abraham. Is he your favourite brother?’
‘Him and Luke and …’ I couldn’t say Daniel’s name. ‘Both of them.’
‘Does anyone at home ever hurt you?’
I didn’t want to cry, but tears dripped down my face. ‘Yes.’
He picked up my hand and cradled it in his — the one with the wedding ring. ‘Show me where. See this doll? You point to where you get hurt.’
I couldn’t look at the doll. It had no clothes on. Instead, I put my hand on my own chest. ‘Here.’
‘They hurt your chest?’
I shook my head. ‘My heart. Father hurts my heart. He growls at Zillah and prays to the Lord to make her into a seemly and obedient child. But she’s not sinful — she’s not. And Abraham wants to learn about electronics for tractors but the Rule says it’s worldly education and Father won’t let him. I pray to the Lord but …’ I stopped. It was a wicked transgression to talk about the Children of the Faith to worldly people.
The doctor said nothing for a while, but I saw him exchange looks with the nurse. She asked the next question. ‘Does your Father smack you when you’re naughty?’
Why would she think that? ‘No! Of course not. He sends us to the discipline room for the day. We have to learn a psalm.’ I didn’t tell them about the bread and water.
‘Do you want to do things he won’t let you, Magdalene?’ Doctor Alex asked.
‘Yes, but I can’t. It’s against the Rule.’
He said, in his friendly voice, ‘Tell us one thing you’d like to do.’
So many things. ‘I’d like to worship the Lord with a joyful heart.’
He said nothing, so I shut my eyes. Perhaps they’d all go away and I’d be at home helping Mother when I woke up.
A hand stroked my forehead and Doctor Alex said, ‘Can you remember why you got upset today, Magdalene?’
That was easy. ‘I thought he would die.’
‘Who, honey?’
I looked at the nurse. ‘Abraham. Elder Stephen didn’t read his name out today and Abraham was angry. He was already angry because the Rule won’t let him learn about electronics.’ I took a breath. ‘He said it was too much and I thought he was going to go away and he’d be dead to us.’ I stopped, but the doctor said, ‘Go on.’
I sighed. ‘They all go away and then they’re dead. I don’t want Abraham to go away. I don’t want him to be dead to us.’
The nurse said, ‘Who else went away and died, Magdalene?’
‘Miriam did. Daniel and Rebecca. And Esther. They all ran away and now they’re all dead to us.’ I would be damned for ever for speaking of them, and for speaking of them to worldly people. Father would pray for me, but it wouldn’t be any use. The Lord didn’t hear my prayers and He didn’t hear Father’s either.
The phone on the desk rang softly into the silence.
‘Damn,’ Doctor Alex said. ‘Hang on a second, Magdalene.’ He listened then said, ‘Show him in.’
It was Father, come to take me home.
He came in quietly and stood for a moment, looking at me.
‘I am sorry, Father.’
‘It has been a sorry day, daughter. Get dressed now. I will take you home.’ He set a folded skirt down on the bed and turned away.
The nurse twitched the curtain across the bed, then helped me into the skirt. Abraham must have gone home for it.
On the other side of the curtain, I heard Father ask, ‘Is my daughter ill?’
The doctor seemed to be picking his words carefully when he answered. ‘Not exactly. I believe she’s had a severe reaction to accumulated worry and stress. I gather she grieves for lost siblings?’
Instead of answering the question, Father just said, ‘Continue, if you please.’
There was a pause, then I heard the doctor say, ‘It is difficult to assess her without the information you clearly don’t intend to give me. However, you might like to think about the fact that your daughter doesn’t remember digging herself into a hole and building a wall around it.’
Seven
‘COME, MAGDALENE,’ MY FATHER said. ‘If you are dressed I will take you home.’
The nurse pulled back the curtain and helped me off the bed. My legs felt uncertain but I didn’t say so. I didn’t want to be carried.
Doctor Alex said, ‘Keep those hands dry, Magdalene. Change the bandages every day. You should be fine after about a week.’ He turned to Father. ‘Keep h
er at home this week. Let her sleep as much as she can. No stress and no worry. And talk to her about how she feels — the worry she has over her siblings past and present.’
Father said, ‘I will pray for her.’
Doctor Alex shut his eyes. ‘Jesus wept.’
Father ignored him, opened the door and ushered me out. My feet felt heavy and disconnected from the rest of me but Father didn’t hurry me. Abraham would have picked me up and carried me to the car. It wasn’t Father’s way to do such a thing.
On the way home, I took hold of my courage. ‘Father, please may we speak of Miriam and Daniel and Rebecca?’ I thought it would push too far to say Esther’s name, although I’d have loved to know more about how she came to live with us, and why.
Father didn’t scold me for breaking the Rule in saying the names of those who had been cast out and were dead to us. ‘Magdalene, my daughter, I beg you not to grieve the Lord by breaking the Rule. Remember always that it keeps us safe. It keeps our feet firmly on the path to salvation.’
He was so earnest, so full of concern for my immortal soul. I wished he could love me instead of the Lord. I closed my eyes. Lord, I ask forgiveness.
‘Magdalene? Do you understand the importance of the Rule?’
I bowed my head. ‘Yes, Father. I will pray to the Lord.’
‘Will you ask forgiveness for endangering your immortal soul?’
‘Yes, Father. I will pray and I will ask forgiveness.’ I was so tired. It was easier to give the answers he wanted.
Maybe Neriah’s father would talk to her now they were worldly. For a moment I envied her.
Abraham, Luke and Zillah were watching for us and came running the moment they saw the car. Abraham pulled open my door and scooped me up. ‘Bed for you, sis, and no arguing.’
I wasn’t going to argue and I was glad he was carrying me. So tired.
They tucked me into my bed. Mother didn’t come but Rachel did. She bent to kiss me. ‘Dear Magdalene. You will soon be well. I will pray for you. Sleep now.’
In the morning I found Zillah snuggled in beside me. I lay without trying to wake her up and persuade her to get dressed. Perhaps Father might let her stay home with me. But I must have slept again, because I woke up to hear Mother saying, ‘Up you get, girls. You will miss the bus if you do not hurry.’
I blinked at her. ‘But, Mother — the doctor said I need to stay home this week.’
She flipped the bedclothes back. ‘We do not obey the words of worldly men. Do I need to remind you of the Rule? Illness is a sign of sin. Hurry, now.’
She went away. I stayed where I was. I didn’t have the strength to cajole Zillah into getting ready for school. But she climbed out of bed and gathered up clothes for both of us. ‘I’ll help you, Magdalene. Don’t worry. I’ll look after you.’
I wanted to weep. She was so young — she wouldn’t turn eight until school started again in February. ‘Thank you, darling. Love you heaps.’
She chattered as she buttoned my blouse and fastened my skirt, saying all the encouraging words I said to her every school morning. I saw now that they didn’t touch the sore places in my heart. But I knew she loved me and that was a true comfort.
Abraham was in the kitchen when we went into breakfast. Zillah threw herself at him. ‘You’re still here, Abraham!’
Mother frowned at her and Father said, ‘Zillah, kindly do not behave in such an unseemly manner.’
She dropped her head and walked to her chair. Before our father could tell her to pray for forgiveness, Abraham said, ‘Remember what I said yesterday, Zillah?’
Father set down the knife he was using to butter a piece of toast. ‘What did you tell your sister yesterday, Abraham?’
My brother pushed his chair back a little, swivelling it to face Father, who sat at the head of the table. When he spoke, the challenge was back in his voice. ‘I promised the kids I wouldn’t leave without telling them I was going.’
Neither of them saw Mother’s face go dead white, as white as my bloody blouse. I wanted to comfort her, but there was no way I could ease her pain.
Father was first to drop his gaze. ‘I would hope, my son, that you value your immortal soul enough not to do anything so foolhardy.’
Don’t say anything, Abraham. Please don’t say anything to grieve our parents.
I gave a moan as I saw him open his mouth. He whipped around to look at me, then banged the flat of his hand on the table. ‘I’ve given them my promise and I’ll stick by it. But that’s all I’m going to promise.’
Father said, ‘We will all go to the study and pray for you.’
Now it was Zillah who whimpered, and I wanted to cry too — I didn’t know if I could stay upright on my knees for a prayer session, and this would be a long one. All morning, at least.
Abraham stood up. He was perfectly calm, but it was a calm that felt like solid steel. ‘You pray if you want to, Father. But these kids are not going to spend the day on their knees. Not today and not tomorrow. This is between you, me and the Elders. Don’t punish the kids.’
Father said, ‘It is not a punishment to pray, Abraham. However, I feel you have some justice in what you say. Your mother and I will spend time in prayer. The children may choose to add their prayers to ours if they wish.’
When none of us said we’d pray too, he spoke each of our names in turn. He began with Luke. I was so glad I wasn’t the oldest. ‘My son, will you help me plead with the Lord to set your brother’s feet firmly on the path of righteousness?’
Luke was silent and, when I sneaked a look at him, his face was thoughtful. ‘I will not pray in the study, Father,’ he said at last. ‘I will instead remind my brother of Psalm 121 and discuss its meaning with him.’
Father seemed happy with that. ‘You are a good son, Luke.’ He turned to me. ‘Magdalene, will you add your prayers to your mother’s and mine?’
A weight pressed down on me, squeezing and hurting. What could I say? And what about Zillah?
Abraham’s voice cut across my scrabbling thoughts. ‘Enough, Father. They’re not going to spend the day on their knees. I’ll drive them to school. Luke can talk about the scripture on the way.’
Father raised a hand to stop him. ‘Kindly let your sister speak for herself, my son.’
All at once, I thought of Doctor Alex Masters. Let her sleep, he’d told Father. Talk to her about things that trouble her. Father would do none of those things and, if he’d prayed for me, it hadn’t helped. I lifted my head to look at him. ‘No, Father. Zillah and I will both pray in our hearts for Abraham. We do not need to be on our knees.’
Zillah wriggled to the edge of her chair so that she could clutch my arm.
But Father still made her speak for herself. ‘Zillah, will you come into the study and kneel in prayer with me? It is for the safety of your brother’s soul.’
Abraham gave a small cough to make Zillah look at him. He winked and shook his head.
But her hand gripped hard on my arm as she whispered, ‘No, Father. I’ll pray with Magdalene.’
Father stood up. ‘very well. I am disappointed in all of you. Zillah, if I hear you shorten your words in such an unseemly manner again you will spend the day in the discipline room. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, Father.’
Mother pushed herself up from the table. ‘Work hard at your lessons, children. Obey the Rule. Keep your feet on the path to salvation.’
The four of us watched our parents leave the room. Abraham closed the door behind them. ‘She’ll kneel on that hard floor for hours! Unbelievable!’
Zillah ran to him. ‘Abraham, will you be damned if you go away? Will you be dead to us? I don’t want you to be dead to us. I’ll pray for you. Magdalene will too, won’t you, Magdalene?’
He bent to hug her. ‘Thanks, sis — but you know what? I reckon the only ones going to hell are the Elders. And old Elder Stephen’s going to have a big fat burning throne to sit on.’
I stared at him — did
he have the same questions about Elder Stephen as I did? If so, they didn’t seem to worry him the way they did me.
His sinful comment didn’t comfort Zillah. ‘I don’t want you to die, Abraham! I don’t want you to go away and be dead to us. That will be breaking the Rule. It’s dangerous to break the Rule. Isn’t it, Magdalene?’
He gave an impatient hiss and went to leave the room.
I couldn’t bear the weight on my heart a moment longer. ‘No! Don’t go. We need to tell her. I’m sick of secrets. I’m sick of being scared every day that she doesn’t know how dangerous the Rule is.’ Breathing was hard but I kept going. ‘Tell her about Miriam and Daniel. Esther, too, and all the truth about Rebecca. Tell her!’
Zillah had taken a step towards him, but she stopped when she heard the names of our lost brother, sisters and cousin. I wanted to run to Abraham, to shake him and make him see, but I was so tired. ‘She needs to know why they got banished. She needs to know what can happen if you don’t obey the Rule. And she needs to know you don’t die when you get banished.’ I put my head down on the table, crying yet again and too ashamed to tell them how often I woke up believing them all to be dead and burning in hell.
Their voices swirled above my head. Zillah: What? Tell me! Who are …
Abraham: Sweet Jesus!
Luke: She’s right, Abraham.
More talk, then Abraham was carrying me once more and we were all in the car.
‘Are we running away?’ I asked. It was so hard to think.
Abraham gave a harsh snort of laughter. ‘I wish! I’m taking you to McDonald’s. We’re going to eat hamburgers and fries.’
That was against a million Rules.
‘Will that make us dead?’ Zillah asked, but she sounded curious, not upset.
Luke answered her. ‘No, but we’ll have to pray a lot if Father finds out.’
Zillah said, ‘I don’t care. I want to go to McDonald’s and eat a hamburger. What’s a hamburger, Abraham? Who are Miriam and Daniel and Esther? Can I have a hot chocolate too? I know who Rebecca is. Were they her friends? I’m very hungry, Abraham.’
‘We’ll eat,’ Luke said, ‘and then we’ll tell you everything.’
