Being Magdalene

by Fleur Beale

  ‘They wouldn’t be talking about you if we were allowed to talk about … her,’ Jemimah said.

  ‘Do you know anything?’ I asked. ‘Why did they leave?’

  She began picking at the bark on the tree trunk. ‘We don’t know a thing. Mother keeps crying when she thinks we’re not looking. Father goes around looking grim.’ She gave up on the bark. ‘I miss her and I’m going to pray for her. So there.’

  ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘She asked us to.’

  ‘All right,’ Carmel said. ‘I’ll pray, but you know what? Praying doesn’t make a scrap of difference.’ She looked at us, ready to fight, daring us to disagree.

  ‘Nothing makes any difference,’ I said. ‘We’re stuck with the stupid Rule.’

  ‘I wish Father would take us out of the Faith too,’ Jemimah said. ‘But he won’t and I’ve lost my cousin for ever.’ She checked to make sure nobody was near enough to hear. None of us had ever spoken so sinfully, or been so unseemly.

  Carmel said, ‘Shhh. Tell us about your hands. Quickly — break’s nearly over.’

  I told them everything. When I got to the part about Abraham probably leaving the Faith, Carmel gasped and pressed her hands to her heart. I told them what the doctor said, and how Father didn’t take any notice of his instructions.

  They were quiet for a while, then Carmel said, ‘But why did you do it? There’s got to be a reason. You don’t just go off your head for no reason!’

  Jemimah winced at her harsh words but didn’t growl at her.

  I shouldn’t tell them. It was a sin to speak of my lost brother and sisters. But Doctor Alex didn’t believe it was a sin. It seemed to me he believed Father was sinful not to speak of them.

  I would speak of them. I would tell my friends. They had all been born in Nelson and didn’t know the history of my family. ‘When I was little, my sister Miriam was banished. Our leader said she was dead. I believed I’d killed her. A few weeks later, my brother Daniel and our cousin Esther were banished. The Elders said they were dead and damned. I thought Abraham would die too.’

  Jemimah said, ‘You’ve lost two sisters and a brother?’

  ‘Yes. And a cousin. We lost Esther too. Elder Stephen doesn’t like us. It’s because of our lost ones.’ There wasn’t time to tell them about the article in the paper.

  Carmel snorted. ‘I don’t think so! Not when he’s banished ten of his own kids.’

  ‘You’re joking!’ I stared at her. ‘You’re not joking, are you? Ten? For real?’

  ‘Break’s over. Come on.’ Jemimah jumped to her feet. She was frightened — what if Elder Stephen found out we’d spoken of his banished children?

  ‘Ten,’ Carmel said. ‘Don’t fuss, Jemimah! We’re not going to tell him we’ve spoken of this.’ She let Jemimah go ahead, then asked, ‘Is Abraham picking you up today?’

  My head was still reeling from the bombshell she’d dropped. It took a moment to focus on her question. ‘Yes — but, Carmel, it’s no use giving your heart to him. He’s not interested in marriage.’

  ‘Well, that’s good,’ she said, ‘because, by the time I’m old enough, he’ll be wanting a wife. And I’ll be a good one, Magdalene. I really will.’

  I shook my head. ‘Please! Don’t do it.’ She would, though, that was very plain to see. I wished I could tell her more — that Abraham didn’t take a lot of notice of the Rule, and would rather have a wife who laughed with him than one who kept the Rule.

  I was glad to go back to Sister Anna and Zillah. Ten children banished. Carmel. Abraham. Doctor Alex. Neriah. The Rule. There was too much in my head. I lay down on the mattresses and slept.

  At lunchtime, Mother said, ‘Girls, we will leave for the Circle of Fellowship at one-thirty. Make sure you are ready and tidy.’

  I’d forgotten it was a Circle day. I couldn’t face it.

  ‘Mother, I do not think I can walk to Sister Beulah’s house today.’ Sister Beulah would ask questions about why I’d fainted. She’d insist on knowing why my hands were bandaged.

  Mother pressed her lips together in a thin line, but perhaps she saw the truth of it for she said, ‘very well. Just this once. No, Zillah, you may not stay with your sister. Magdalene, you will spend the afternoon studying your Bible.’

  I slept for the entire afternoon and, miraculously, Father let me go to bed that evening when Zillah did.

  On Thursday I woke up feeling better, almost back to normal — and still Abraham hadn’t run away in the night.

  Father said, ‘You are looking well again, Magdalene. The Lord be praised.’

  ‘Not well enough to walk to the bus,’ Abraham said. ‘I’m driving you again.’

  Father didn’t argue.

  Rachel and Hope were there when we got home. Hope came running to hug us, and Rachel kissed Zillah and me. ‘It is good to see you looking so much better, Magdalene.’

  I didn’t want to talk about myself. I gestured at her stomach. ‘The baby is growing.’ I longed to ask her how it got born, how a baby knew when to grow in a woman’s stomach.

  She smiled, knowing full well what was in my mind. ‘Your questions will all be answered when the time is right.’

  I couldn’t help it. I muttered, ‘You used to want to know too.’

  ‘Dearest Magdalene, the Rule is not easy for children. But trust in it. You will understand more once you are married.’ She stroked her hand across my head the way she used to before she became a wife and mother. The gesture used to comfort me but now it was irritating. I’d been wondering if we should show her the photograph of our brother and sisters, but I could see now how stupid that would be. She’d almost certainly tell Father about it.

  She put her arm around my shoulders in a brief hug. It was against the Rule to show affection. The tension left my body — she did still love me, and loved me enough to break the Rule. She said, ‘Shall I change the bandages for you, darling?’

  I was happy to let her. Mother was brisk when she did it — I knew she felt I was selfish to injure myself on purpose, and was cross because I couldn’t help her. I still couldn’t remember doing it.

  ‘They are healing well,’ Rachel said. ‘I have prayed for you, my sister. You are not easy in your heart, are you?’

  I shook my head. She wouldn’t let herself tell me anything that might make my heart stop hurting.

  ‘The Rule is good, Magdalene darling, it keeps us —’

  I cut her off. ‘Please, Rachel. Don’t say it. I know it all.’ And I can’t believe it. I just can’t.

  She fastened the bandage, her head bent to hide her face. At last she looked at me. ‘Do not endanger your immortal soul, my sister. I pray to the Lord you will guard it with everything you have.’

  ‘Do you believe Rebecca’s immortal soul is damned?’ I shouldn’t have asked her, but I had to know. ‘Do you believe it in your heart?’

  She winced away from me as if I’d slapped her.

  ‘I’m … I am sorry to cause you pain, Rachel. I will pray for forgiveness.’

  But do you believe the Elders when they say she is damned and doomed?

  She would tell Father. It would be the discipline room for me when he heard.

  Rachel started talking, but so quietly I had to strive to hear. ‘I truly do not know what to believe. I want her soul to be safe. I pray that it is. Every day, I pray for her and for … the others.’ She lifted her head to look at me. ‘I am so sorry, Magdalene. I know you are troubled, but …’ Her voice trailed away and there were tears in her eyes.

  ‘Thank you for talking to me,’ I said.

  She stroked her hand across my head again, and this time I found the gesture comforting.

  Ten

  WHILE WE WAITED FOR Abraham to pick us up from school on Friday, I asked Luke, ‘Has he said anything to you? Has he told you what’s in his mind?’

  Luke shrugged. ‘Not a word. When I tried to talk to him, he just went off about the Elders, especially Elder Stephen. Some days I think, Yes, he’s definit
ely leaving. Then the next day he’ll be happy again. He loves his work. That’s the only thing keeping him here, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Will Elder Stephen do what he did to Malachi?’ I shouldn’t have said that in front of Zillah — it was only one more thing for her to worry about — but it was too late now, so I went on. ‘Malachi loved his work too. Rebecca would be married to him and still here if Elder Stephen hadn’t stopped him working in the gardens.’

  Sure enough, Zillah flicked her eyes between us. ‘What do you mean? Who is Malachi? I thought Elder Stephen wanted to marry her. Tell me!’

  Luke gave me a look, but she knew so much of our story now, she might as well know the rest — especially if Elder Stephen reassigned Abraham like he’d done to Malachi. I said, ‘Malachi was betrothed to Rebecca, but he left the Faith because Elder Stephen said he had to be a plumber instead of a gardener.’

  Zillah gasped. ‘Will he do that?’

  Luke shook his head. ‘Abraham thinks Elder Stephen is too cunning to do that. He thinks the Elders are trying to get rid of him without being obvious about it. Everyone would know why he left if they said he couldn’t work with machinery. It’s too much the same as what they did to Malachi. People might start to ask questions.’

  ‘No, they won’t,’ Zillah said. ‘Nobody except us asks questions.’

  She sounded definite. ‘How do you know?’ I asked. ‘They wouldn’t talk about it where anybody else could hear them.’

  ‘Sharon doesn’t think the Rule is dumb. She’s always telling me off — she says, Think of your immortal soul, Zillah Pilgrim.’ It was a perfect imitation of Sharon’s way of speaking. ‘Eunice and Joy — they like the stupid Rule.’ She kicked the gravel, sending a stone bouncing off into the grass. ‘Sharon doesn’t kick stones. Joy and Eunice don’t either.’ She kicked another one.

  Abraham pulled up in the car. One look at him and we could see his mood was dark. He even made the engine sound angry. Luke said, ‘Chill, brother. What have the twelve old men done today?’

  Our brother slowed down, but sighed from the depths of his endangered soul. ‘Nothing! That’s the trouble. Father asked them to give me permission to do an electronics course. No prizes for guessing what they said.’

  Father actually asked the Elders to break the Rule about worldly education?

  ‘Go, Father!’ Luke said. ‘You’ve got to admit it, Abraham. That’s a huge thing for him to do.’

  ‘Yeah. I know. He prayed about it for ages.’Abraham sighed again. ‘He’s a good man, I know that. But I wish he wasn’t so fixed on that bloody Rule. It’s all stuff the Elders make up, so why can’t he admit it?’

  My stomach hurt. Abraham would leave. Neriah’s family had gone. Our own father had asked the Elders to break the Rule.

  ‘Elder Stephen says the Lord speaks to him. How do you know he makes stuff up?’ Zillah’s eyes were huge.

  Abraham shrugged. ‘We can’t prove it. But nobody ever asks if he can prove the Lord does speak to him.’

  ‘Then why do you stay? You could easily get another job.’ I couldn’t believe I was saying these things out loud, but I wanted to know, to understand — to prepare for the shock of him leaving. ‘You could go to university like Daniel did.’

  He would leave us. We’d lose a second brother. Nothing in my life felt certain any longer.

  Zillah said, ‘Is it your immortal soul, Abraham? If you go away, will you worry about your immortal soul?’

  We went round two corners without getting an answer, and we had reached the bottom of our street before he said, ‘No, brat face. You lot are the only reason I’m still here. Don’t get excited. If those bloody Elders do one more idiot thing, then I’m off.’ He held up a hand to stop our protests. ‘I won’t disappear without telling you. How many times do I have to say it?’

  We had to be content with that.

  Sunday came. My hands were healed enough for me to help Mother make potato salads to take to worship for lunch. She lectured me non-stop on the sin of making myself ill.

  Abraham drove us to the temple, perhaps for the last time. I wanted to pray for him, but I didn’t know what to say until I remembered Luke’s prayer to the nice Lord. Lord, we pray for our brother Abraham to be able to use the talents You have given him. We pray for his life to be filled with your love and grace.

  It was easy to pray to Luke’s Lord.

  As we walked into the temple, Zillah whispered, ‘Salvation.’

  I gave a choke of laughter. I was glad she wanted to play our game. I was glad she wasn’t terrified Elder Stephen would have some new way of punishing our family. ‘Do you think he’ll say it more than five times?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘because Abraham wants worldly education.’

  She was smart, my little sister. If she could have worldly education, she would go to university just like Daniel had, I felt sure.

  I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Elder Stephen was talking until Zillah squeezed my hand, and then again. Two salvations in his first sentence.

  He was preaching about disaster. I tried to listen only for salvation. Our leader’s disaster sermons always frightened me, but today my attention was caught, for he was talking about Auckland, where Abraham wanted to study. What disaster had befallen the city?

  ‘The Lord in his wrath has brought affliction upon a sinful people. My children, be warned! Flood, earthquakes, famine — all are manifestations of the Lord’s wrath.’

  I felt ill. How many people had perished?

  None.

  ‘The Lord in his mercy has sent the city a warning. The floods have destroyed property, not people. But be warned, my children, the wrath of the Lord is fearsome. Keep your feet on the path to salvation lest you too suffer the affliction brought upon you by the wrath of the Lord. Obedience will save you. Only obedience to the Rule will lead you to salvation.’

  Usually our game made the long hour bearable. Today, it had lost its power.

  As was the custom, there were announcements once the sermon was over. Sometimes Elder Asa would read them but today Elder Stephen did it. ‘Your Elders have been praying about the matter of worldly education.’

  From the corner of my eye I saw Abraham jerk upright in his seat.

  ‘We have prayed to the Lord, and it has come to us that certain skills are required for the Children of the Faith to conduct their businesses efficiently among worldly people.’ He paused, letting the people absorb the impact of his words. Some of the men sitting in front of us glanced at one another.

  Abraham was sitting forward, one clenched fist on the back of the seat in front of him. He looked as if he was waiting for something.

  He was right. There was more to come. Elder Stephen stared out at us with his sorrowful eyes. ‘My people, the Lord has spoken to me. It is His will that any man may undertake an appropriate course of study if its sole purpose is to enhance his business.’

  Abraham still didn’t relax. What was he waiting for? Why wasn’t he jumping out of his seat with excitement?

  ‘My people, your Elders are very mindful that with our bountiful families there is need for us to take advantage of specific aspects of worldly education.’ He closed his eyes for a moment, held the pulpit, and rocked back and forth on his feet.

  I thought he wanted us to imagine the Lord was speaking to him as we watched. I heard my brother hiss, ‘Just get on with it, will you!’

  Mother gave him a sharp look. He didn’t notice.

  Elder Stephen opened his eyes. ‘The Lord has directed me to inform you that the soul of any man who undertakes such education with a pure heart will not be in danger. Your Elders have prayed and it has come to us that any married man may undertake worldly study to help his business.’

  Abraham slumped back in his seat. His lips formed words. I was sure they were You old devil.

  As we walked to the dining room for lunch, Zillah asked, ‘He’ll leave now, won’t he? He’ll be so angry and he’ll leave today.�
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  All I could say was, ‘He’ll tell us. He won’t just vanish without telling us.’

  Such small comfort.

  Eleven

  ABRAHAM DIDN’T SEEM ANGRY; he looked determined, and I thought he’d made up his mind. He beckoned me over.

  ‘Do you want me to get you a cup of tea, Abraham?’ I wanted him to say yes, I wanted to push away the moment he’d tell me he was disappearing from my life.

  ‘No, sis. Listen, I want you to give a message to somebody.’ He grinned at me. ‘You know — one of those special messages.’

  It took a moment for me to understand what he was asking. ‘You want me to talk to a girl? One of those messages?’

  ‘You got it, kid.’ His eyes gleamed and he laughed softly. ‘It’s the answer, the perfect answer.’

  ‘Yes, but who? Who is there to marry?’If he wanted me to give a message to Jewel, I wouldn’t do it, not even for him. He didn’t have permission to court her.

  ‘Talitha, of course. Tell her I send her my good wishes. My very good wishes.’

  I gaped at him. ‘But …’

  ‘Just do it, kid! I know she’s older than me. Who cares? She’s got more sense than those school kids I’m not allowed to marry.’ He gave me a slight shove.

  ‘Wait! I need to think.’ I held up my hand to shush him. ‘You can’t marry her without telling her how —’ I glanced around, knowing I must speak with care — ‘without letting her know how much you value the Rule. And what will you do? Marry her and leave her behind while you go to Auckland to study — for a whole year? Abraham, you need to think about this.’

  He shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. I was going to leave the Faith tonight. Don’t stress, I’d have told you guys first. But this is a chance. My only chance.’ He stopped for a moment. ‘But okay, you’ve got a point. Or two. Yes, you’d better tell her how much I value the Rule.’ At least he didn’t call it the stupid Rule this time. He grinned. ‘And tell her she can come to Auckland with me. If she wants to. Go on, or I’ll rock up and ask her myself.’