Being Magdalene

by Fleur Beale

  Nothing felt real.

  Daniel got our tickets and stayed with us until we had to board the flight. He told us what to do, then hugged us. ‘Goodbye, my little sisters. I’ll ring you tonight and I’ll come and see you soon.’

  We stepped outside the terminal, walking out of our lives, away from Luke and our parents. I took Zillah’s hand.

  I let her sit by the window. She was too excited to talk — her eyes were wide and she kept turning her head to take everything in. I heard her gasp when the plane gathered speed. ‘It’s okay,’ I said. ‘Nobody’s worried. It must be what always happens.’

  Her grip on the armrest relaxed.

  I shut my eyes. Mother and Father would know by now that we’d run away. The Elders would be furious. I wondered what Saul would think in his heart and if he’d talk to Rachel about it. He mightn’t tell her we’d gone until after the baby got born. He wouldn’t want to upset her.

  Zillah didn’t pull herself away from the window until the plane touched down. ‘That was amazing!’ Her eyes were bright, but then her face clouded. ‘Magdalene, will somebody meet us? Daniel didn’t tell us.’

  ‘It’ll be all right.’ I hoped it would be.

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she said. ‘I’m glad we ran away together.’

  ‘Me too.’

  We walked hand in hand from the plane, following the line of people into a building. My heart thumped. Zillah’s clutch on my hand tightened.

  We heard a shout. ‘There they are!’ There was a clatter of feet and then we were picked up and whirled around in circles. ‘Magdalene, you’re all grown up!’ It was Rebecca.

  ‘Zillah! Little Zillah, I’m your big sister. I’m Miriam!’

  Rebecca set me back on my feet just as another set of arms went round me. ‘Maggie! I can’t believe it!’ It was Esther. She stretched out an arm to grab hold of Zillah. ‘And, Zillah — wow, you look different from the last time I saw you.’

  They’d come to meet us, all our lost sisters. They held our hands and danced us out to a car.

  Esther got in the driver’s seat. ‘You’ll have to get used to calling me Kirby,’ she said.

  She didn’t look like Esther now. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail as if she just wanted to keep it out of her eyes. She wore jeans and an orange tee-shirt. The way she drove reminded me of Abraham, except she didn’t make the car sound angry.

  Rebecca sat in the back with Zillah and me. ‘Tell me about Rachel. Did she have a boy or a girl? It’s been four years and I still don’t know.’

  Zillah stared at her. ‘The baby doesn’t get born until tomorrow. They’re going to cut her open, but Daniel says she’ll be safe and he’s going to ring us up and tell us.’

  Rebecca sat back in her seat, her eyes shut tight.

  I touched her hand. ‘She’s got a little girl. Her name is Hope.’

  ‘Hope!’ Rebecca bent forward, her arms hugging her body. ‘Oh, Rachel!’

  Miriam turned around from the front seat. ‘I guess that says it all. In her heart she knows the whole system stinks. What’s she like now, kids?’

  I said, ‘She’s like Mother. Like she used to be.’

  ‘A good and godly woman,’ Rebecca said softly. ‘My poor sister.’

  Her pain woke all the sore places in my heart. I shouldn’t have come. I should have sent Zillah by herself. I should have gone back and let Elder Stephen punish me for ever and ever. Zillah would be fine. The lost ones would care for her and love her. She would go to a proper school and I would look after Mother.

  Later, all I could remember of the journey from the airport to our new home was Zillah’s voice asking questions and my sisters’ voices answering her. I knew we travelled up hills and around corners. There were trees and sometimes we could look down at the blue, blue sea. I didn’t feel part of what was happening.

  When we stopped at the house and I had to get out, I felt as if I wasn’t properly in my body. I remember the kindness of our aunt and uncle. Esther’s mother was there too. I think she was the one who put me into a bed.

  Time passed. I slept through Daniel’s phone call. He rang again the next afternoon. Rachel’s baby had arrived safely. She was well and so was her little son. His name was Theodore. It meant God’s gift.

  ‘Did you visit her?’ Zillah asked. ‘Have you seen the baby?’

  But of course he hadn’t. He wouldn’t want to bring Rachel more trouble. He’d asked for news from one of the nurses looking after her.

  Theodore. We had a tiny nephew we’d never see, who would never know he had four aunts and an uncle who longed to get to know him. He’d always be a question mark in my mind, and Hope would always be three years old.

  I went back to my bed in our pretty room. Sleeping in the daytime was such sinful luxury. I didn’t have the energy to feel guilty about it. My eyes wouldn’t stay open long enough to let me study the pattern of the pale-blue curtains or gaze at the wall of pictures. This must have been Miriam’s room when she lived here.

  Zillah slept in the other bed, even though she said there was another room that could be hers if she wanted it. I knew she was worried about me. ‘I’ll be all right,’ I told her. ‘I’m just tired.’

  My aunt let me sleep on.

  Then one morning she came in and sat on the edge of my bed. ‘Magdalene darling, do you remember Ellen?’

  I didn’t know anyone called Ellen. It wasn’t a godly name. I shook my head, and she said, ‘Ellen is Kirby’s mother.’

  It took me a moment to remember she was talking about Esther, who I would have to learn to call Kirby.

  My aunt said, ‘She’s going to take you to talk to a doctor today. We’ve got you some worldly clothes.’ She put a pile of garments on the end of my bed. ‘Can you manage to get dressed?’

  Zillah pushed back the covers and jumped out of her bed. ‘I’ll help you, Magdalene. I’m going to school today. Yesterday Nina and I talked to the principal, and she said I can start today. She’s really nice, and I asked her if you can come too and she said you can when you stop being tired.’

  She shouldn’t call our aunt by her first name. ‘Sister Nina.’

  My aunt put her arm under my shoulders to help me sit up. ‘Call me Nina, and your uncle is Jim. That’s what we like.’

  Between them, she and Zillah helped me put on the worldly clothes. I wished I felt better, I wished I felt real. The clothes were pretty, I knew they were, but they didn’t touch my heart. I did manage to say thank you.

  At breakfast I tried to feel the joy of being able to wear a short green dress sprinkled with tiny flowers. There was a denim jacket too, leggings and silver shoes. My sisters had chosen everything for me with love — I knew it, but I couldn’t feel it. I couldn’t say more than just thank you.

  I couldn’t feel joy either at sitting with family who chatted and laughed. Zillah collapsed into giggles when Jim used his knife to flick her a slice of toast. I smiled to see her happy but I felt far removed from her and my aunt and uncle.

  The phone rang. ‘That’ll be Daniel again,’ Nina said as she went to answer it.

  It wasn’t. It was Abraham, calling from Auckland. We heard his urgent questions from across the room. ‘Are my sisters there? Magdalene and Zillah. Are they all right?’

  Zillah almost collided with our aunt in her rush to get to the phone. For a second, the familiar fear crushed down on me until I saw Nina hug her and laugh. ‘Easy, tiger,’ she said.

  Zillah’s questions poured out even before the phone was in her hand. ‘How did you know we’re here? Who told you? Do you like Auckland? Have you been to the library? Does Talitha like it too? Is Luke there? Can we talk to you again?’

  Zillah listened for a moment, held the phone in front of her, then pushed a button. ‘Is that right, Abraham? Can you still hear me?’

  His voice filled the kitchen, making me jump. ‘So, Zillah, you’re fine, but how’s Magdalene?’

  I made myself speak. ‘I’m all right, Abr
aham, but how —’

  Zillah cut me off. ‘She’s not all right, Abraham. She’s tired and sad and I want her to get better. She’s trying hard but it’s not working and I don’t know what to do.’ Her voice cracked and she sniffed back tears.

  ‘I’ll be all right. Truly I will.’ I couldn’t say any more.

  My aunt said, ‘We’re taking her to the doctor today, Abraham. I believe our Magdalene is exhausted. Don’t worry, we’ll get her any help she needs.’

  Our Magdalene. I wanted to cry.

  Zillah said, ‘That’s good, isn’t it, Abraham, and it’s better than praying because praying doesn’t work. How did you know we ran away? How did you find us? Can I talk to Luke?’

  I heard Luke say, ‘In a minute, Zillah. One thing at a time.’ I knew he was smiling.

  Abraham’s voice again. ‘Talitha’s parents rang. They went all the way to Blenheim to buy a phone so the Elders wouldn’t find out. Hey, it’s great to talk to you.’

  Zillah said, ‘Daniel rings us up too. He looks like you and he’s nice.’

  Abraham gasped. ‘You’ve seen him? You’ve found Daniel? What’s his number? Hey, Talitha! You’ll never guess!’ His words tumbled over each other as he told her what Zillah had said. ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘At the hospital,’ Zillah said. ‘What happened when they found out we ran away, Luke? Did Brother Ebenezer tell you?’

  We heard him laugh. Our aunt and uncle came back to the table and sat down. My uncle said, ‘Luke, Abraham, this is Jim. I’m your father’s brother. Good to hear from you, but you’d better go on with the story before young Zillah here bursts something.’

  Abraham said, ‘Luke can tell you. I’ve gotta run. Late already. Bye, all. Talk again soon.’ We heard a door shut.

  ‘Me and Abraham, we’re so thankful the girls went to you,’ Luke told our uncle. ‘How did they find you?’

  But Zillah was too impatient to explain. ‘Luke! What happened? How did you find us?’

  Our brother’s voice said, ‘It wasn’t easy. Short version — we got the idea to check Miriam out, to see if she had a website. Her bio said she’d gone to relatives in Wellington after she got thrown out. Abraham rang every Pilgrim we could find.’

  ‘Luke …’ My voice sounded weak. I tried again. ‘Luke, what happened at worship? Did Brother Ebenezer …’

  ‘He didn’t say much,’ our brother said. ‘Mother went to get you, couldn’t find you. He said she was a little upset.’

  I squeezed my eyes shut. A little upset. She’d have been shouting and crying. ‘The Elders?’

  ‘Sister Priscilla said they ran in all directions — some of them to the bathrooms, some of them yelled at Mother and the rest of them rushed out to the nursery.’

  ‘Luke, what’s the phone number there?’ Nina broke in. ‘We’ll ring you tonight to talk more, but we need to get Magdalene to the doctor shortly.’

  We said goodbye. Zillah looked at me, her eyes shining. ‘They’re not dead to us, they still love us.’ She dived at me and threw her arms around me.

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘It’s good. It’s so good.’

  Rebecca and Miriam arrived to take Zillah to school. Before she left she gave me another fierce hug. ‘The doctor will make you better, Magdalene. Then you can come to a real school with me.’

  She whirled away in a trail of excitement, telling our sisters about the phone call. I envied her.

  Ellen came. She drove me to the doctor. He asked me questions but all I could do was sit there and shake my head. I couldn’t find words to tell him how I felt. I didn’t know how I felt. I was frightened — I didn’t know who I was any more. I didn’t know how to be a worldly girl. Nobody needed me. My aunt and uncle could care for Zillah much better than I’d been able to. I should go back to look after Mother.

  It was a relief when he talked to Ellen instead … therapy … waiting lists as long as your arm … antidepressants as a last resort …

  Ellen took me back to the house, helped me to take off the pretty clothes and tucked me back into my bed.

  Twenty-eight

  I HAD A SENSE of my family being around me, surrounding me with love, but I felt apart from it. I couldn’t get warm even when I sat in the chair where the sun poured through the window. I had no purpose in being here. I should go back. Mother needed me.

  Always, there was somebody else in the house, although nobody seemed to stay for the whole day. One morning it was Miriam who came in and sat on my bed to talk.

  ‘You’ll come right,’ she said. ‘You wouldn’t be in this mess if our dumb father wasn’t such a gullible idiot.’ She gave a shudder. ‘Ugh! I can’t bear to even talk about him. And, when I think about him chucking us out instead of kicking the Elders and the Rule to hell, it makes me mad enough to spew.’ She took several deep breaths, not speaking until she was calm again. ‘Sorry. Rant over.’

  ‘Do you hate him so much?’ Her rage hurt my heart.

  ‘Not talking about him any more.’ She leaned forward to kiss me. ‘Ask me stuff. What would you like to know? Being worldly is mega-confusing at first. I remember thinking I’d never understand it.’

  I couldn’t even smile at her. Too tired. I didn’t hear her when she left the room.

  On Sunday, a week after our arrival, Kirby, Miriam and Rebecca came to the house with Ellen. Zillah wanted me to go with her and our sisters to Nina and Jim’s worldly church but Nina said, ‘Another time, Zillah. Don’t worry, Magdalene will get better and then she can come to church — if she wants to.’

  They didn’t make you go to worship? I tried to think about that while they were away but it was too hard. It was easier to listen to Ellen and Kirby teasing each other and singing as they prepared lunch. They didn’t act as if they were worried about staying away from worship. They didn’t seem like mother and daughter either. They were like friends.

  I didn’t want to think about my own parents, who would be worshipping at temple today, because Miriam’s angry voice kept sounding in my head when I did. I wanted to see Rachel and Hope and Theodore. I tried to feel joy that we could talk to Abraham, even though we were doomed and damned. Luke would be going back home today and I’d never see him again either.

  When my sisters returned from worship, we sat down to lunch and they told us more about their lives. Miriam taught at the art school she’d gone to and she was getting ready for another exhibition. Rebecca was studying psychology. ‘I want to work with children and families,’ she said. Her eyes lingered on me as she talked and I knew she was worried about me.

  Zillah said, ‘You should help Magdalene. Why aren’t you helping her, Rebecca?’

  Rebecca said, ‘I don’t know enough yet. One day, I will. But, Magdalene, you’ll be fine again long before then.’

  I wanted to believe her.

  Kirby was studying building science. ‘Sustainable engineering,’ she added, as if that would help me understand. One day I’d ask her what it meant, but not yet. I was tired, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

  I think it was the next day that Nina came into the bedroom. It must have been early. Zillah was only just awake.

  My aunt said, ‘Magdalene, we’ve found somebody we believe will be able to help you. I think you’ll like her. She’s called Octavia and she says you can stay with her until Ellen finishes her shift at the hospital this afternoon. We know it’s a big step for you, but we’d like you to give it a try.’

  This woman, she’d ask questions I wouldn’t be able to answer.

  Nina sat on my bed, leaned forward and smoothed the hair off my face. Zillah stood beside her, eyes wide with worry. ‘Octavia’s an artist, but she used to be an art therapist before she retired. We’ve talked to her and we trust her.’

  Zillah said, ‘Is she old if she’s retired? Elder Stephen’s old and he’s mean.’

  ‘She’s eighty,’ Nina said. ‘But she’s very different from Elder Stephen. I promise you.’

  I couldn’t listen any longer. Miri
am was banished for creating worldly images. Evil, damnation, death.

  Nina took my hand. ‘Don’t worry, honey. She won’t make you do a single thing you don’t want to do. If you really don’t like her, you don’t have to go back. But we’d like you to give it a go.’

  I shook my head. ‘I’ll be all right. I’ll stay here.’

  Nina slipped her arm under my shoulders to sit me up. ‘You can’t, honey girl. None of us can stay with you today. Octavia will give you lunch and Ellen’s going to pick you up.’

  ‘I can stay by myself. I’ll be all right.’

  Nina stood up. ‘It’s against the law for a child under fourteen to be home alone.’

  The Children of the Faith broke that law. My worldly family obeyed it. It was easier to get dressed than think about it.

  I didn’t want to spend time with anyone strange. An eighty-year-old woman couldn’t help me, especially not one who painted. Elder Stephen was eighty. In my mind, Octavia’s eyes were mean and sorrowful like his. Her body would be slow like his, and I believed her voice would be soft too and it would become another weight on my heart.

  Jim drove me through the city. He didn’t talk. The radio played music with no singing. He parked the car and got out. I stayed where I was. I couldn’t do this. Painting. Eighty years old. Sorrow, weight, meanness.

  Jim opened the door and helped me out. ‘You poor old sausage. Things will get better. I promise you they will.’

  I wanted to believe him but all I could do was follow him up echoing stairs in an old building. At the top, he knocked on a door. It opened. He said, ‘Bless you, Octavia. This is Magdalene, my most beloved niece.’

  He left me alone with her.

  She was thin like Elder Stephen, but when she moved her steps were light. Her eyes were dark like his but there was no sorrow in them, and her mouth was much readier to smile than his could ever be.

  I wished she’d leave me alone, but she gave me a big shirt to cover my clothes. Soon, she’d start asking questions I wouldn’t be able to answer. I wanted to go home, but I didn’t know where home was any more.