I Am Not Esther

by Fleur Beale

  I plaited her hair, a lighter gold than the twins’ — and Miriam’s. Then I got into my uniform. It was actually fun putting it on. When I realised that I seriously feared for my sanity. But to have my arms exposed and nothing swishing round my ankles was heaven.

  Aunt Naomi was staying in bed for the day but she called me in. ‘Let me braid your hair, Esther. You must keep to the Rule while you are at school. It is very important. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes Aunt Naomi.’ Ouch! She attacked my hair as if the devil himself had to be got out of it. ‘Who is taking Magdalene to school, Aunt?’

  She patted my head. ‘There! That is as seemly as I can make your hair. Do not forget your scarf. Daniel will take Magdalene to school, but I would like you to collect her and the boys afterwards.’

  ‘Yes, Aunt.’ Damaris and Charity came for me and the three of us walked to the bus stop together. As soon as we got there, they flipped their waistbands over to shorten their skirts. They helped me. ‘I’ve never worn a skirt before I came here,’ I grumbled.

  ‘But what did you wear to school last year?’ Damaris asked.

  ‘Shorts or track pants. We could wear them or a skirt. I’m allergic to skirts,’ I said gloomily. They laughed and tucked their head scarves into their bags. I shook my hair out of the plait, but they left theirs alone.

  ‘We do just enough to stop us getting teased,’ said Charity.

  ‘Don’t you mind breaking the Rule?’ I asked.

  Damaris said, ‘We prayed about it and it came to us that the Lord was not offended.’

  Good of Him. I just managed not to say the words aloud. The first thing I did when I got to school was rush to the toilets. ‘Did you not go before you left home?’ Damaris asked.

  I grinned at her. ‘There’s mirrors in toilets! I want to see if I’m still here.’

  ‘We will wait for you,’ Charity said, and she smiled at me.

  It was strange, looking at myself again. I couldn’t get over how I still looked the same. If I could see a reflection of my mind, it’d be so different I wouldn’t recognise it, but there was the outside me — same wild hair, same big brown eyes, same everything. I sighed and went back to the others.

  Charity, Damaris and I were all in the same class.

  ‘Now, who are you?’ asked my form teacher, who told us her name was Ms Chandler.

  ‘Kirby Greenland,’ I answered automatically.

  She frowned. ‘Your name isn’t on my list.’

  ‘Oh.’ I frowned. ‘Esther Pilgrim. Is that there?’

  She found it. ‘Yes, that’s here. Now, what is your name, young woman? Are you Esther, or are you Kirby?’

  A good question. Who was I? I wasn’t sure I knew any more.

  Charity came up and took my arm. ‘She is Esther Pilgrim, Ms Chandler.’

  The teacher gave us both a hard stare, but she didn’t say anything. I got another piercing stare when I asked her if I could see the guidance counsellor, but she told me where Mrs Fletcher’s office was.

  I found it after getting lost twice. ‘Come in,’ she said as I knocked. I opened the door and went in. She reminded me of Louisa — not thin, but not fat either. A cheerful face with lots of lines and smooth grey hair.

  ‘Hello there!’ She gave me a swift once-over with sharp eyes. ‘New uniform. You’re a Year Nine. What’s your name, ducky?’

  Ducky! For chrissakes! ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I’m a new Year Ten, and my name is Kirby Greenland. Or Esther Pilgrim. Take your pick.’

  Suddenly I had every atom of her attention focused on me. ‘You take your pick,’ she said, her voice friendly. ‘What shall I call you?’

  ‘Kirby,’ I said slowly. ‘I’m not Esther, I’m Kirby.’

  ‘Well, that’s a start. Sit down, Kirby who isn’t Esther, and tell me all about it.’

  ‘It’s not about that,’ I said, hesitating and stumbling and tripping over my words the way my feet did over my dumb skirt. ‘At least, it’s not really. It’s about …’ and to my absolute, total horror, I burst into tears.

  She handed me a box of tissues and sat there perfectly calmly while I blubbered my heart out. ‘Sorry!’ I hiccupped. ‘I didn’t know this was going to happen. I’m sorry.’

  A bell rang and I jumped. ‘Don’t worry about that,’ she said. ‘We’d better get you sorted before you face the masses. Now, what’s it all about?’

  ‘It’s my mother!’ More tears. ‘I looked after her. Always. She couldn’t even pay a bill or decide what to have for tea. I did all that. I told her when we needed to do the washing, when we needed to go shopping. I wrote the lists. And we were happy. She was always laughing. She used to hug me. We’d do crazy stuff, like walk on the beach in a storm, drive to Thames from Auckland just for a feed of fish and chips.’ I stopped and the words burst out of me. ‘She loved me. I know she did!’

  ‘Loved?’ said Mrs Fletcher. ‘Why do you say loved?’

  ‘She went away. She went to Africa to work with refugees. And she didn’t talk to me about it. She didn’t even tell me till the day she went. And she left me with the mad relations and they have turned me into Esther Pilgrim. And I don’t even know Mum’s address and my uncle won’t tell me.’ I heard in my voice all the agony and all the pain that I’d heard in Daniel’s voice, that I’d seen in Miriam. That I feared for Maggie. I clamped my jaw shut and dug my fingernails into my palms. I wouldn’t cry any more.

  ‘Let the tears come,’ Mrs Fletcher said, smiling at me. ‘It’s a way of your body releasing all that built-up stress.’

  I put down my head and howled. Eventually, I managed to tell her about the torn-up letter, about the experiment, and about Maggie and Miriam and Daniel.

  ‘Miriam will be fine,’ she said. I looked astonished and she grinned. ‘You’re not the first Pilgrim girl to weep her heart out in this office! Miriam is strong. She misses her family, but she will be fine. She’s doing well.’

  ‘Where is she?’ I asked.

  ‘In Wellington now. She’s gone to live with an uncle and his family. He broke away from the church years ago. It took us a while to discover if she had any relatives, but we got there. They love her and she’s settling well.’

  ‘But on Thursday … I saw her. She was so unhappy!’

  ‘Yes, she told me about that. She had to come, she said. It was sort of saying goodbye. She also wanted Magdalene to know she wasn’t dead.’ Her eyes were bright and very kind as she looked at me. ‘She came to see me afterwards and have a little weep. She told me about you although she didn’t know who you were. She’s kind, she said. She loves my little sister.’

  ‘But what’ll I do about Maggie?’ I wailed. ‘I can’t stay there much longer! And it’ll destroy her if I “die” too!’

  She sighed. ‘There is no easy answer to that one, Kirby. You can’t sacrifice yourself for Magdalene. You’d crack. She will certainly be hurt when you do go. Perhaps you can start preparing her now. Telling her you will leave when your mother comes back. Start training the twins to take your place.’

  I didn’t want to do that! I’d miss Maggie always running first to me. I’d miss being the special one for her. I knew it was selfish but it felt like she was all I had.

  ‘Why did Mum go away like that?’

  ‘Tell me what you know about her history,’ Mrs Fletcher said.

  ‘She never left me! Never! Even when she had to go on courses and stuff, she’d ring me up every night. That’s why I can’t understand! It doesn’t make sense.’

  Mrs Fletcher gave me another tissue. ‘I mean her history before you were born. What do you know about that?’

  I rubbed my eyes and sniffed. ‘Only that she left home on her sixteenth birthday. She said she couldn’t live there any longer.’

  ‘She was brought up in the faith, wasn’t she?’

  I nodded. ‘She wouldn’t talk about it. That’s all I know. And that her father used to belt her.’

  Mrs Fletcher sat quiet, frowning, then she said, ‘T
here isn’t very much to go on, I’m afraid.’

  I thumped the table. ‘I just need to know! I hate not knowing!’ Me and Daniel. We both needed to know things.

  ‘I think the best thing is for me to try to find out where she is.’

  ‘Don’t talk to my uncle!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said, ‘I understand what would happen if I did. I worked with Miriam, remember.’

  ‘Do I have to go on living there? Can’t I run away like Miriam did?’

  Mrs Fletcher sighed. ‘It’s not straightforward. You aren’t being abused physically and it would be difficult to say you were being mentally abused. If your uncle wanted you back, then the law would be on his side. Your mother has placed you in his guardianship. With Miriam it was different. She’d got to the point where she couldn’t take any more. And her family refused to have her back unless she agreed to unreasonable conditions.’ She frowned and stared off into space, tapping the pencil on her teeth again. ‘I feel the easiest way around it all is for me to try to contact your mother.’ She snapped her gaze back to me. ‘Can you hang on in there for a while? It could take a day or two to find out which organisation she’s with, and after that it could take a while to get hold of her.’

  I slumped back in my chair, relief washing over me in giddy waves. ‘Yes, I can wait. It was not being able to do anything, or find out anything that made it so hard.’

  ‘I know.’ She patted my hand. ‘And in the meantime, you start working on Magdalene.’

  I got up. ‘All right.’ I didn’t want to. I still didn’t want to. Maggie was the only person who loved me.

  ‘You must!’ said Mrs Fletcher sharply.

  ‘I will! I said I will, and I will.’ But not just yet.

  ‘Starting from today.’ Mrs Fletcher put a steely hand on my arm.

  ‘But then nobody will love me!’ I wailed, the tears running again.

  ‘You might be able to love yourself, though,’ she replied. ‘Which is a reasonably important concept. Now, do you promise?’

  You can’t love anyone when you don’t love yourself. Mum had said that. In the motel that awful night.

  I sat down again, my butt on the very edge of the seat. I had to. I couldn’t stay in that family, not for much longer. Even the thought of going back there after the freedom of being at school for one day filled me with dread. ‘I promise,’ I muttered. Then I lifted my head. ‘I promise. I love Maggie. I don’t want her to be hurt.’ I should have felt good. Uplifted and noble. All I felt was hollow and angry.

  ‘Very well,’ said Mrs Fletcher. ‘I’ll begin immediately on the hunt for your mother. Give me both her names, will you? We don’t know which one she’s using right now.’

  ‘Ellen Greenland. Martha Pilgrim.’ Even Mum didn’t seem real any more.

  Mrs Fletcher stood up when I did. She held out her arms. ‘Come here, Kirby!’ She wrapped her arms round me and hugged me tight. ‘Now you hang in there! Things are moving! Do you understand?’

  It was immensely comforting. I nodded against her shoulder and felt terribly, terribly tired. ‘Yes. I do. Thank you.’

  She let me go. ‘I’ll let you know the second I find anything out — even if it isn’t very important. Okay?’

  I managed a wobbly smile. ‘Thanks. That’d be great.’

  I found my way back to my form room. Charity and Damaris had saved me a seat beside them. ‘You look awful!’ Damaris whispered.

  ‘I’ve got the world’s worst headache,’ I muttered.

  They dragged me up to Ms Chandler. ‘Can we take Esther to the nurse? She has a bad headache.’

  I had the feeling Ms Chandler was a bit sorry I’d landed in her class. The look she gave me was less than friendly, but she let us go. Charity and Damaris demanded to know the whole story, but all I told them was that Mrs Fletcher was going to try to contact Mum for me. I couldn’t tell them how I’d made a right idiot of myself and bawled my eyes out. I could tell Daniel, but not them. I began to see why Daniel didn’t want to marry Damaris, even though she was beautiful and kind and good.

  I plaited my hair on the bus on the way home. Damaris and Charity walked with me to Maggie’s school. They had to collect brothers and sisters as well. I had to look for Maggie. She was playing in the sandpit with two other little girls and when she saw me she came racing over. ‘I love school, Esther! It’s so much fun!’

  ‘Say: It is, not it’s,’ Charity said gently.

  ‘It is so much fun!’ Maggie repeated.

  ‘I’m glad,’ I said, shooting a look at Charity to see if she’d correct me as well, but she didn’t.

  ‘Where are Abraham and Luke?’ I asked.

  ‘They are playing on the tower,’ Maggie said, pointing.

  We went to get them and walked home together. I chatted to all three of them. Said I hoped the boys were looking out for Maggie at school. And my heart hurt. Maggie skipped and hopped and chattered.

  At home, Aunt Naomi was sitting in the kitchen. She looked a bit better, but not much. The twins were home already and had made afternoon tea. We all sat round and talked about the day. Maggie plonked herself down on my knee. I gave her a hug, then picked her up and slid her in between the twins who were sitting on the window seat. ‘Keep them in order, Maggie. I’ll start dinner. My aunt looks tired.’

  Like I felt. The twins got up and cleared the table. ‘Here, Magdalene, you put the biscuits away in the tin,’ said Rebecca. It was easy. The twins loved her too. She was their sister, not mine.

  ‘I will help you,’ Maggie danced up to me after she’d finished the biscuits.

  I grinned at her. ‘Thanks. Could you drag the twins out to the garden and get some veges … vegetables … for dinner?’

  The three of them went off happily. Aunt Naomi told the boys to clean all the shoes for tomorrow and then to work in the garden for an hour. I cut up meat for a casserole. ‘Are you all right, Aunt?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, I will be, thank you Esther. I just have to rest.’ Mum would have told me all the gory details about why she had to rest and what had gone wrong. Not my aunt.

  ‘Have you thought of a name for the baby?’ I asked. Anything to keep the black emptiness out of my head.

  ‘Your uncle has decided on Bartholomew for a boy and Zillah for a girl.’

  On the whole, I hoped it’d be a girl. Bartholomew, unshortened — what a handle! ‘Do you like those names?’

  ‘Of course. They are what my husband has chosen.’

  I chopped onions and cried. I wanted my own mother who had called me Kirby because she said it sounded strong and modern.

  Uncle Caleb and Daniel came home and we had dinner after Uncle Caleb had said grace. We ate and the twins talked about their teachers. They were in different classes and Rebecca had a man called Mr Fitzsimmons and Rachel had a woman called Ms Terry.

  ‘You will call her Miss or Mrs,’ Uncle Caleb said. ‘She is either married or not. I suggest you call her Miss.’

  ‘Yes, Father,’ said Rachel, her eyes wide.

  Luke had the same teacher as last year, and Abraham had a new one. ‘She’s cool!’ he said.

  Uncle Caleb skewered him with his eyes. ‘Do not use unseemly language, Abraham. Try again, if you please.’

  ‘Miss Rivers is a very nice person,’ Abraham said, screwing up his face.

  Then my uncle turned his attention on me. ‘You wore your hair unbraided today, Esther.’ A statement, not a question. So how did he know? Daniel gave me a quick look, a tiny nod. Admit it?

  ‘Yes,’ I said.

  ‘At least you are honest.’ Thanks Daniel! ‘But in future, you will keep your hair braided. The women of our faith are modest in thought and appearance. Braided hair does not draw attention to itself.’

  It was too much. I’d had enough of what I could and couldn’t do. Mainly couldn’t. ‘It’s my hair and I’ll wear it how I like!’ I jumped up and glared at him. There was a sizzling silence. Nobody defied him like that, at least not until I�
��d arrived.

  ‘Resume your seat, child.’ He put down his knife and fork and placed his palms flat on the table. All his concentration was beamed on me. I sat down, anger boiling in my blood. ‘That was a most unseemly display,’ he said and it was the way he said it that got me. It was impersonal. He wasn’t even mad. ‘We will pray for you after the meal.’

  I jumped up again. ‘No! I won’t be prayed over! I won’t wear my hair in a dumb plait — it looks ghastly and I hate it! No dumb man is going to lust after my hair, it’s the most stupid rule I ever heard!’

  Dead, stark silence. Shocked faces. Maggie’s mouth open. Daniel’s face white. ‘Go to your room and wait until I call you for prayer,’ he said in that same impersonal voice. ‘You will spend tomorrow in the discipline room and you will braid your hair.’

  And not go to school? To hell and back with him! It really got to me that he didn’t react. He was just giving the standard response and there wasn’t a scrap of emotion. At least, that’s what I felt afterwards, when I was trying to work out why I did what I did next.

  I leapt up from the table, my chair went flying. I rushed to the sink, seized the big knife that I’d cut up the meat with and with my other hand I grabbed my hair in its Godly braid. ‘If you think my hair is a temptation then there’s a way round that!’ I hacked at the plait, sawing the knife backwards and forwards across my hair. Aunt Naomi kept her knives sharp, but even so, it hurt, pulling and tugging. I thought I’d cried enough that day never to cry again. I was wrong. I howled and hacked and my hair lay in my hand, still in its braid. I felt the stuff left on my head frizz out into a wild halo.

  It was plain they didn’t know what to do with me. None of the children moved. Aunt Naomi sat staring at her plate. It wasn’t up to her to work out what to do with me. She waited calmly for Uncle Caleb to decide. ‘Go to your room and wait,’ he said at last. I noticed a slight wobble in his voice and I was fiercely glad. I threw my hair and the knife on the floor and left.

  It was a long prayer session that night. We didn’t have any singing, it was all praying for me and how I had transgressed and needed to see the light and walk in the paths of righteousness. Praise the Lord. The whole damned Rule got recited with Praise the Lords after each one.