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Being Magdalene

Page 13

by Fleur Beale


  They probably didn’t even know it. The only phone was the mobile kept in case of emergency.

  The principal frowned. ‘I must say they weren’t at all helpful. We rang several, and every single one of them gave us the same message — no Faith child would endanger her soul at a worldly school.’ She looked disgusted.

  I couldn’t understand. ‘But why didn’t you ring our father’s business?’

  My question made her smile. ‘She won’t tell us her name. She just said she wants to learn things. She said to call her Sharon. But that’s not my real name.’

  I gave a crack of laughter. ‘Sharon would never do something so wicked. She’d never break the Rule like Zillah has. Her name is Zillah Pilgrim and I’m Magdalene.’

  Mrs Solomon looked at me for so long I had to drop my eyes. ‘She’ll be in trouble for this, Magdalene?’

  ‘Yes. Bad trouble.’

  Her eyes flicked to the phone on her desk. ‘Will she be … physically harmed?’

  I sighed. ‘No. She’ll be prayed for. We’ll have to kneel on the floor and Father will pray. She’ll have to stay in the discipline room for a day and she’ll have to learn a psalm. That’s all.’

  But it wouldn’t be all. The Elders would hear about it. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Elder Stephen would do about such a flagrant piece of Rule-breaking — by yet another Pilgrim child. He would at last get his revenge on us.

  The principal got to her feet. ‘Very well. Come with me.’

  She led me to a classroom. It had the number 8 on the door and a sign saying Welcome to Titoki. The children were busy at tables making pictures with paints, crayons and coloured paper. Miriam would have adored it. But I couldn’t see Zillah.

  The teacher came to meet us. ‘Over there,’ he said.

  I looked to where he pointed. My sister was sitting cross-legged in a corner lined with bookshelves, a pile of books beside her and one open on her lap. She was completely unaware of everything else around her.

  ‘She’s been starved for books?’ the teacher asked.

  What a strange way of putting it, but he was right. ‘Yes. We’re not allowed books except for the Bible.’

  ‘It seems a shame to take her away,’ he said.

  Weight thumped down on my heart. ‘Yes. I wish …’ But wishing was useless. I left the two of them standing by the door and went to my sister. I didn’t say anything, just knelt down beside her.

  She knew I was there, but she turned another page. ‘Look, Magdalene. This is a book about stars. It’s all about the universe.’

  She turned the pages, scanning each one until she got to the last and closed the book. ‘I have to go home now, don’t I?’

  I stood up, holding out my hand to help her to her feet. She gave me a brief, fierce hug. ‘I don’t care. I don’t care if I have to learn a hundred dumb psalms.’

  I stroked my hand down her braid. She didn’t have her scarf on either. I didn’t tell her the trouble would be worse than psalms could ever be.

  Twenty-one

  WE WALKED HOME HAND in hand. Zillah chattered about the wonders of her day. ‘It was Finn’s birthday, Magdalene. Isn’t Finn a funny name? He had a birthday cake with eight candles on it and Mr Hetherington — he’s the teacher — he lit the candles. Then they all sang happy birthday to you and Finn blew them out, then we all had a piece of cake.’

  ‘I remember birthdays. They were fun.’ I’d been to a real school too, for half a year before we moved to Nelson.

  ‘But that wasn’t the best part.’ She turned her face up to mine, her eyes shining. ‘We played with little sticks and made squares out of them and Mr H — that’s what the kids call him — said it was maths. We had to work out how many we’d need and then we used real sticks to see if we were right.’

  ‘You got it right?’ Not that I doubted it.

  She gave a skip. ‘Yes! And, Magdalene, did you know that earthquakes happen because —’ she paused, screwing up her face in an effort to remember — ‘tectonic plates move! It’s not because the Lord is angry like with the flood and Noah.’ She gave another skip. ‘I’m going to believe Mr H because he’s nice and he’s got lots of books and they say that too. I read three books about earthquakes! All of them said earthquakes come because tectonic plates move around and none of them said it was the Lord.’

  That was good to know. I made my face look horrified. ‘Gosh, Zillah! That must mean Elder Stephen’s a liar!’

  She giggled and skipped and chanted, ‘A big fat liar!’ all the way home.

  She fell silent when we came in sight of our house. ‘I’ll have to confess to Father, won’t I?’ she said.

  I wanted to say no — nobody will know. But I knew they’d find out. One of the businessmen might already have asked Father about the phone call. Sharon’s father would ask him if we’d found Zillah. Her mother would say something to Mother at the Circle of Fellowship on Wednesday.

  ‘Yes. It’ll be best.’ I opened the gate, slamming it hard behind us.

  We went into the house. Mother wasn’t back yet. I was supposed to go to the discipline room and learn the psalm Father had left for me, but I had no heart for it. Besides, I didn’t want to leave Zillah by herself. She wouldn’t run back to the school, I knew that, but it would be hard for her waiting alone for Father to come home.

  ‘I’ll make you something to eat,’ I said. ‘You can tell me more school stuff.’

  So that’s what she did, her face all lit up and her words tumbling over themselves. She stopped only when I put a plate of food in front of her. I knew her mind was far from the house we were in — it was back with the wonders she’d learned in less than a day at a real school.

  I wanted to throw things. I wanted to kick Elder Stephen. I wished he’d drop down deader than dead.

  ‘Magdalene.’ She pushed the empty plate away. ‘I’m going to write a letter to Father. He gets angry when I cry but I won’t cry if I tell him in a letter. I’ll tell him I went to a proper school and I’ll ask for his forgiveness, but I’m not going to ask the Lord for forgiveness because the nice Lord is pleased I went to that school.’

  ‘That’s a good idea. You’re a brave girl, Zillah.’ I decided not to warn her that Elder Stephen would punish her. She’d find out soon enough.

  Father brought Mother home, took one look at me and said, ‘Magdalene, you are committing the sin of disobedience. Go at once to the discipline room.’

  Before I could move, we heard a voice calling, ‘Praise the Lord,’ and in walked skinny, mean Elder Hosea who would be our leader when Elder Stephen was called to the Lord.

  Lord, help us.

  Mother was all smiles. ‘Elder Hosea! Welcome. Please, sit down.’

  Elder Hosea faced Father, ignoring our mother completely. ‘Brother Caleb, I have received a report of serious transgressions by both your daughters.’

  Father glanced at our bowed heads. ‘Magdalene and Zillah? I am surprised, Elder Hosea. What report is this?’

  ‘Sister Leah says neither of them went to school today.’ He spat the words, making us flinch. ‘That is bad enough, but Sister Judith saw this one —’ he jabbed a bony finger in my direction — ‘running — running — around the city bare-headed.’ He took a step towards us, leaning forward to hiss, ‘What have you got to say for yourself, missy?’

  Mother was moaning, a high wailing moan. I couldn’t look at Father. Zillah’s hand clutched mine. Enough. I lifted my head. ‘With respect, Elder Hosea, I will speak to my father on this matter. The Rule says it is he who will decide if our transgression is a matter for the Elders.’

  I will not faint. I will not leave my sister to face his wrath.

  Father’s voice rescued me. ‘My daughter is correct, Elder Hosea. I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.’

  But Elders are not easily turned from the path of vengeance. He cast a look of loathing at us both. ‘It is fortunate I have done so. Such wicked girls would not otherwise have told you.’
>
  Zillah twitched my hand. Of course — the letter. I said, ‘Father, please go to your study. You will find the letter my sister wrote, confessing our sin.’

  Elder Hosea didn’t look one scrap holy while he waited for Father to return. He looked furious.

  Father came back, Zillah’s letter open in his hand. ‘My daughter is correct. She has confessed all. I understand too why her sister was running through the city.’

  ‘Let me see!’ Elder Hosea stretched out his clawing fingers.

  Father folded the letter. ‘With respect, Elder Hosea, we will follow the guidance of the Rule in this matter. I will speak to my daughters. That will enable me to decide if I need to ask the Elders to help discipline them. Thank you for your concern.’ He went to the door, opened it and waited for Elder Hosea to take himself off.

  The click of the shutting door jerked Mother out of her moaning. ‘Wicked, wicked girls! How can you bring such shame upon us?’

  Father took her arm. ‘Be at peace, my wife. Rest on your bed. I will speak to our daughters.’ He led her from the room.

  Zillah stared after him. ‘He saved us.’

  ‘Yes.’ I couldn’t quite believe it. ‘He might still tell the Elders, though.’ And they would banish her. I couldn’t think about that, not yet.

  She sighed. ‘I know.’ She looked up at me. ‘Magdalene, are you sorry I went to that school today?’

  ‘No. I’m not. They should let you go every day, but they’ll never let any of us get a real education. That’s what I’m sorry about.’

  Father came back. ‘Come to the study, daughters.’

  The study meant prayers, it meant long hours on sore knees. We followed him in. ‘Sit down.’

  We looked at each other. He never asked us to sit. We always had to kneel or, if we were lucky, to stand while he chastised us.

  Zillah shuffled her chair closer to mine. We sat and waited.

  Father’s hands lay clasped on the desk in front of him. For ages he just sat in silence with his gaze fixed on something above our heads. At last, he said, ‘Tell me about the school, Zillah.’

  She jumped — this was so unexpected. I whispered, ‘Tell him. You can do it. Tell him everything.’

  She started with the birthday celebration. ‘It was worldly, Father, but —’ the next words burst from her — ‘it was not sinful. Finn — it was his birthday — he was happy. All the children were happy. The teacher was too. Is it wrong to be happy? The Rule does not say so.’

  Father said, ‘Continue.’

  I knew she would tell him about earthquakes. She would tell him Elder Stephen was wrong to say they were caused by the Lord’s wrath. She did, but as she was speaking it occurred to me that Father must have studied at a worldly school when he was young. He must have learned the truth of such things. His face gave no hint of his thoughts.

  Zillah ended her recital by saying, ‘I was reading a book about the universe when Magdalene came for me.’

  My father turned his gaze on me. ‘You guessed where your sister would be?’

  ‘Yes. I hoped she would be there. I prayed she would be.’

  He studied my face for so long I had to drop my eyes. I prayed he wouldn’t ask where I feared she might be. When I looked up again, he had his eyes closed. He was praying.

  I prayed too. Lord, help us. Please help us.

  When Father spoke, I thought perhaps the Lord had heard me. ‘My daughters, you have both grievously broken the Rule.’

  ‘We are sorry. Please, forgive us.’ Was it a sin to tell such a lie? We weren’t sorry, either of us. We were only sorry for causing trouble and for causing him pain.

  ‘I must think further on this matter. I will pray about it. Go to the discipline room, Magdalene. Zillah, you will go to your bedroom. You will both learn Psalm 36.’

  She said, ‘Yes, Father,’ in that dead, defeated voice.

  I couldn’t bear it. ‘With respect, Father, who will cook the dinner tonight?’ Mother wouldn’t be doing it — she’d probably stay in bed for another week.

  He rubbed his temples with his fingers. ‘You do well to speak of such a matter, Magdalene. It reminds me how hard and how cheerfully you have both worked while your Mother has been unwell.’ He lowered his hands, closing his eyes to pray some more. ‘My daughters, there must be some penalty for today’s actions. You may learn Psalm 130 together. It is not a long one.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’ We crept away, and didn’t speak until we’d reached the sanctuary of the kitchen.

  ‘Is that all?’ Zillah asked. ‘He didn’t even growl at me.’

  I stood at the kitchen bench. ‘I think the Elders will make mischief. Old Hosea — he was pretty mad. We’ll have to watch out, I think.’

  ‘I think so too.’ She came to stand beside me. ‘The bench doesn’t need all that rubbing, Magdalene.’ She took the cloth out of my hand. ‘I don’t care what the Elders say; I’m glad Father helped us. He was really kind, Magdalene. He was like the nice Lord.’

  ‘Yes, I’m glad too, so we’d better not disappoint him. Grab a Bible — let’s see how long Psalm 130 is.’

  All the time we were learning the eight verses of the psalm, another part of my mind was struggling to understand our father’s actions. Was he at last questioning the Rule and the Elders?

  I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.

  I tried not to think what would happen if he did come to believe the Elders were wrong, but my mind wouldn’t stop. We would have to leave the Faith. Luke would leave too, and Abraham and Talitha. Neriah’s father must have seen the truth about the Elders and the Rule. If Father followed Brother Jedidiah and took us out we would never see Rachel, Saul or Hope again. We would never see the new baby. We would never see any of them.

  We’d be able to see Daniel and Miriam and Rebecca and Esther. We’d be able to talk to them, but not to Rachel.

  What would Mother do? She would never leave her grandchildren. She’d never leave Rachel. I didn’t think Father would abandon Mother if she insisted on staying, and, anyway, it was a sin to leave your wife. But it was a sin too for a woman to go against her husband’s wishes. What would happen? I envied Neriah. Her family was still whole but mine was fractured and I couldn’t see how it could ever be whole again.

  ‘Magdalene? We have to learn this. You have to concentrate.’

  ‘Sorry. Let’s say the lines loudly. That’s the way Esther used to learn them.’ Her shouting had let me understand that she hadn’t been cast out, that she hadn’t died.

  Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord.

  Lord, hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications.

  Was it true? Could the Lord really hear my prayer? If He could, I wanted the nice Lord to hear us, not Elder Stephen’s Lord.

  Twenty-two

  MOTHER STAYED IN BED. Zillah and I did the chores and cooked dinner. We recited the psalm as we worked.

  At prayers that evening, Father began by praying to the Lord for the health of His beloved servant, Naomi. Then he prayed for us to be good, obedient daughters who would not grieve the Lord with any further transgressions.

  ‘Praise the Lord,’ we said.

  After the prayers, we had to recite the psalm. If he had heard us reciting it as we worked, he didn’t tell us.

  ‘My daughters, I have prayed about your transgressions and it has come to me that you must stay home from school tomorrow and Wednesday to reflect on your sin.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ Did he know that staying home wouldn’t be a punishment?

  ‘Also, on Wednesday you will not accompany your mother to the Circle of Fellowship meeting.’

  ‘Yes, Father.’ That too was a gift, not a punishment.

  ‘Go to bed now. Both of you.’

  We hurried from the room in case he remembered to set psalms for us to learn the next day and the day after.

  Zillah climbed on to my bed. ‘I’m frightened, Magdalene. Jus
t a little bit.’

  ‘I know. Me too. I think Father —’

  ‘It’s the Faith, isn’t it?’ she asked. ‘He doesn’t know if it’s really, truly what the Lord wants.’

  ‘Yes. I think so. He’d have let Elder Hosea yell at us and punish us if he was sure the Elders were right.’

  ‘I’m sorry Father’s worried,’ my sister said. ‘But I’m not sorry either. Is that wicked, Magdalene?’

  ‘The Elders would think so.’ It would mean hell and damnation for sure. ‘I don’t believe the Elders. Not now. Not since Rebecca ran away.’

  A memory surfaced in my mind. ‘I reckon it was Elder Hosea’s fault she ran away. She was going to marry Elder Stephen — she wasn’t happy about it, but she was going to do it. Then Elder Hosea came on her wedding day and he wouldn’t let Father drive her to the temple. He said Elder Stephen wanted him to drive her there. We were all at the temple, waiting for her to arrive, but suddenly all the Elders got up and ran out. We didn’t know what was happening.’

  Zillah turned that over in her mind. ‘But she might have run anyway.’

  I shook my head. ‘When we got home we found a note on the table.’ I knew it by heart — we’d all read it so many times. I recited it for her.

  ‘Dearest Mother,

  ‘Elder Hosea says Elder Stephen wishes me to wear my ordinary black shoes. I am sorry not to be able to honour you by wearing the ones you saved from your own wedding. Elder Hosea asked to see my petticoat but I refused to be so immodest.

  ‘Your loving daughter, Rebecca.’

  Zillah said, ‘I reckon he screwed up his face too — you know, like he was smelling something bad.’

  I screwed up my own face. ‘He’s a horrible man, but he’s dangerous. We’ll need to be careful, Zillah.’

  ‘I wish Luke was here,’ she said.

 

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