I Am Not Esther

by Fleur Beale

  I was sent to bed at the same time as Maggie. ‘Do not talk to your sister,’ Uncle Caleb ordered. So I winked at her and made shadow animals on the wall. When the twins came to bed, I whispered, ‘Please can you look out for Magdalene tomorrow? Give her a hug and stuff?’

  They nodded. Rebecca whispered, ‘Your hair is a mess!’

  I pulled a face. ‘An ungodly mess!’

  All three girls giggled, their hands over their mouths. Then Rebecca stopped giggling and whispered, ‘Beulah would have narked on you. She’s a cow, that girl.’

  Maggie and Rachel stared at her. Such unseemly language. ‘Sorry!’ Rebecca didn’t look sorry. ‘But watch out for her. She is fifteen and thinks she can boss us all because she will be getting married next month.’

  ‘Poor Eli,’ Rachel added. ‘Except that he is so wet, he deserves her.’

  ‘I don’t know her,’ I whispered. ‘So how can I watch out for her?’

  ‘Yes, you do!’ Rachel said. ‘She is the one at the fellowship meeting who thought she was too old to come outside with us.’

  ‘Oh!’ I did remember. ‘Skinny with buck teeth and pretty hair.’

  ‘Outward appearance does not matter,’ Rebecca recited. ‘It is the purity of the soul that should concern you, child.’

  ‘The price of a good woman is above rubies,’ Maggie added, then asked, ‘What does that mean? How much was Ruby’s price?’

  We giggled again, heard footsteps. Leapt to our respective beds and tried to look holy and seemly and Godly.

  Aunt Naomi glanced around. ‘Good night, girls. Say your prayers and may God keep you until morning.’

  I had to learn two psalms the next day. Uncle Caleb came to see me before he left for work. ‘You will pay particular attention to verses three and four of this psalm.’ He jabbed a finger at them, ‘And to verse eleven of this one.’ He didn’t look at me once.

  I stayed in that room and hated it and Uncle Caleb and the whole world. My hair stuck out round my head and I knew I looked a fright. Verses three and four went like this: Who shall ascend into the hill of the Lord? or who shall stand in his holy place?

  He that hath clean hands, and a pure heart; who hath not lifted up his soul unto vanity, nor sworn deceitfully.

  I imagined having a conversation with Uncle Caleb along the lines of: Uncle, I find it difficult to relate to the psalms — they are all about men. He, his, him all the way, Uncle.

  But I figured I was in enough trouble right now. My eyes flicked to verse eleven: For thy name’s sake, O Lord, pardon my iniquity; for it is great. I had never even heard of words like iniquity and transgression before I came here.

  I learned the psalms but at first I didn’t have the heart to yell and shout. I gritted my teeth. They wouldn’t grind me down. They wouldn’t destroy me. I took a deep breath and shouted, ‘Let me not be ashamed. Let not mine enemies triumph over me.’

  All day, my fingers kept straying to my hair. I tried to look at my reflection by running water into the basin when I went to the toilet, but it didn’t work. I wished I hadn’t done it. But I was glad I’d got under Uncle Caleb’s skin.

  Aunt Naomi brought me my midday bread and water. She looked awful. ‘Aunt, I think you should lie down. I promise I will be obedient — or would you like me to prepare dinner?’

  ‘I am well, Esther. You do not need to concern yourself and you must stay here all day.’

  Mum would have hugged me and said, thanks for being so concerned and yes I’d love you to cook dinner, you’re a wonderful, wonderful person and what have I done to deserve you?

  Nobody ever said thank you for anything in this house. Except for passing the bread and stuff like that. I had never once heard Uncle Caleb or Aunt Naomi say thank you to any of us kids. Not to Daniel for always looking out for the little boys, not to the twins for doing the ironing every day, not to Luke and Abraham for working in the garden, not to Maggie for doing more round the house than most teenagers do. And definitely not to me.

  I sighed and learned another verse. Wondered how Mrs Fletcher was getting on with tracing Mum. Wondered why she ran away when she was sixteen. Was it because she didn’t want to marry the guy they’d chosen for her? What had she done? Where had she gone? I knew so little about her life.

  The twins cooked dinner that night. I was allowed to do the dishes all by myself. Daniel asked if he could dry them, but Aunt Naomi said, ‘You must ask your father.’

  ‘Thanks, Daniel!’ I flashed him a grateful smile. ‘But it’s okay. Really.’

  He smiled back briefly, before his face resumed its normal, solemn expression.

  The twins set out homework on the table and Maggie, full of importance, joined them. Abraham and Luke rushed through theirs and when I’d finished the dishes, they were taking a plug to bits and had pieces of wire and tools all over the deck. Daniel mowed the lawn. Then we prayed and sang and I got to say my psalms. My uncle prayed some more and he demanded that vanity be expunged from my soul. Where did he learn these words?

  Aunt Naomi said to me, ‘Take these with you into the discipline room, Esther. You may work on them seeing you have memorised the psalms.’

  She handed me a couple of squares of heavy, white material. ‘What are they?’ Certainly not handkerchiefs.

  ‘Table napkins for Beulah.’ Rebecca pulled a face. ‘You have to hem them with a herringbone stitch.’

  Oh, what fun! ‘What is a herringbone stitch, Aunt?’

  She gave me one of those ‘didn’t your mother ever teach you anything’ looks and showed me how to do it. I’d rather learn psalms.

  Then I had a brilliant idea. I hemmed away industriously but I didn’t tie knots in the ends of the cotton. When dear Beulah washed my table napkins, they’d unravel. Just like my hair did.

  I felt like a freak going to school the next day. Charity and Damaris gasped and giggled. ‘I will straighten it, if you like,’ Charity offered. ‘I have some scissors.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said gratefully. ‘It must look ghastly.’

  ‘It would not be so bad if it was not a lot longer on one side,’ said Damaris. ‘What happened?’

  I told them while Charity snipped. They were shocked, I know they were. But Charity only said, ‘I have always wanted to cut somebody’s hair, and now I have!’

  Damaris said, ‘You look much better now, Esther.’

  ‘The twins said it must have been Beulah who told my uncle.’

  Damaris screwed up her face. ‘Beulah would. She always does everything perfectly.’

  ‘She never turns up her skirt either,’ said Charity. ‘And she wears her head scarf all the way to school.’

  ‘Does Eli want to marry her?’

  Damaris shrugged. ‘Eli is stupid. She will make all the decisions and boss him around and say it is what he has told her. When she is with child she will say, “My husband says I must take care. He will not let me cook the meal. He says I have to rest.”’

  ‘Will he cook, if she won’t?’ I asked. Uncle Caleb wouldn’t know a pot from a frying pan.

  They giggled. ‘Heavens no! He is a man. No, one of us girls will have to go around to her house and cook the meal for her.’

  ‘She mightn’t be able to have kids,’ I said. If Eli was that wet he probably wouldn’t know he had to do something other than hold her hand.

  ‘It is unkind to wish that she be barren,’ Damaris said gently.

  God, I hate being so goddamned good!

  At school, Ms Chandler asked me for a note. ‘For being away yesterday,’ she said sharply.

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Can I bring it tomorrow?’

  ‘Very well.’ She straightened up. ‘It isn’t a good start, Esther, to be absent on the second day of term. Were you ill?’

  Suddenly I’d had it up to my eyeballs with people telling me off. ‘No.’ I lifted my chin and glared at her. ‘My uncle objected to me cutting my hair off. He made me stay in the discipline room all day and learn psalms off by heart. Do
you want to hear them?’

  All the fight went out of her. ‘I’m sorry, Esther. And no, I don’t want to hear them — and I’ll get off your back. Bring me a note if you can.’

  Wow! That was a turnaround, for sure.

  ‘You should not have said that,’ Damaris whispered. ‘We are not permitted to discuss home with our teachers.’

  ‘Are you going to tell?’ I hissed back.

  ‘Certainly not. It is a matter between you and your conscience.’

  That was something, anyway.

  Mrs Fletcher came and asked me to pop out of class for a minute. ‘Just to let you know I’ve ruled out the Red Cross and a couple of other organisations she could have been working for. Still trying, don’t give up hope.’ She flicked at my hair. ‘Tough day, yesterday?’ I nodded. ‘Let me know if things get too difficult. Promise?’

  I nodded again. ‘It’s okay. I just lost my temper.’

  ‘Never mind, the hair suits you.’

  It was a good day at school. We had P.E. and you can’t imagine what heaven it was to get into the shorts and T-shirt. All the other girls were moaning about how gross they were and how we should be allowed to wear whatever we wanted. I glanced at Damaris and Charity. Charity whispered, ‘I would not want to do P.E. in a long skirt!’

  I went to my option classes for the first time. Uncle Caleb had chosen them for me and as near as he could, he’d chosen cooking, cleanliness and Godliness. I was to study Food Technology and Home Economics. I wanted to learn Japanese and Graphics.

  I collected Maggie and the boys after school and went home. The twins had made Aunt Naomi go to bed. She looked dreadful. ‘Would you like me to ask Uncle Caleb to come home?’ I asked her. ‘Should you go to the doctor?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, Esther. I will be all right. I am just a little tired.’

  The twins and Maggie helped me cook dinner. Uncle Caleb didn’t seem particularly worried about Aunt Naomi. ‘I think she should see a doctor,’ I said to Daniel.

  ‘She is my mother and I cannot do anything,’ he said softly, as if to himself.

  ‘Do you know what you’re going to do?’ I asked, after glancing round to make sure nobody was listening.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, but I will not do it while my mother is unwell.’

  ‘Be careful,’ I said. ‘You can always find a reason for not doing something as difficult as that.’

  He stared at me and after an age whispered, ‘You are right. First it was Miriam, then it was Magdalene, now it is my mother.’

  Aunt Naomi didn’t come to the evening prayer session that night. ‘She is resting,’ was all my grey uncle would say. We prayed for her and the baby.

  The next day Uncle Caleb decided that Aunt Naomi would be fine all by herself all day, without a phone to call for help if she wasn’t. ‘Adah will come at lunch-time,’ he said and that was supposed to be enough.

  ‘Aunt, are you sure?’ I asked before I left for school.

  ‘Your uncle has prayed for me. He is confident that all will be well.’ She didn’t look quite so confident to me. I put a jug of lemon cordial on the table beside her. ‘Thank you, Esther. You are very thoughtful,’ she whispered. She’d thanked me!

  I went off to school with Charity and Damaris. ‘I’m worried about her,’ I told them. ‘She should see a doctor. I think she should be in hospital.’

  ‘It does you credit,’ Damaris smiled at me. ‘But it is not your place to question your uncle’s judgement. He has prayed and God has led him to the correct path of action.’

  Holy cow. A whole, stampeding herd of bloody holy cows. I stopped abruptly and turned round. ‘I’m going to stay with her. She shouldn’t be by herself.’

  ‘Esther!’ Charity called after me. ‘Your uncle will be severely displeased! It is not your place to do this!’

  I ignored her. What had Mrs Fletcher said? Something about being able to live with myself being a reasonably important concept.

  I tip-toed into Aunt Naomi’s room. ‘Aunt? I am going to stay with you today.’

  She turned her head and whispered, ‘Thank you, Esther. I do not feel very well, it will be good to have you here.’

  That frightened me. She was actually admitting to not feeling well. I thought she must be nearly dying. ‘Should I get a doctor?’ I whispered.

  ‘No. I will try to sleep a little. I am glad you are here.’

  I sat beside her bed and for something to do I hemmed more of Beulah’s dumb napkins. And I didn’t tie the cotton. I longed for a book. Or a telly. Or a radio. And my mother.

  After about an hour, Aunt Naomi started moaning and tossing her head around on the pillow. I went and got a cold, damp cloth to put on her forehead. She didn’t stop. I tried to wake her up, but she didn’t seem to be conscious.

  I jumped up, my heart beating hard somewhere in my throat. I had to get help and get it fast. I ran to the neighbour’s place. Nobody home. Nor at the next place. Oh God, what should I do? A car was coming down the road, I ran out and waved madly, yelling, ‘Stop! Please stop and help me!’

  It stopped and a man stuck his head out. ‘What’s up, kid?’

  ‘It’s my aunt,’ I gabbled. ‘I think she’s dying and there’s no phone!’

  He had a cell phone! He punched in 111 and handed it to me. ‘Ambulance!’ I cried when the voice asked what service I wanted.

  ‘We’ll come right away,’ they said. ‘Don’t worry, we’ll be there.’

  ‘Oh, thank you!’ I handed the phone back to the man.

  ‘You want me to come in and wait with you?’

  I did, I really did, but I shook my head. ‘My aunt would be upset. She is very religious and she would think it was wrong.’ Don’t ask me why.

  He just nodded. ‘Okay then. Hope she’ll be all right.’

  I ran back to the house. She still didn’t answer me when I talked to her and her face was paler than before. Hurry!

  They came, they did come. Two of them. They wore uniforms and carried bags. Best of all, they knew what to do. ‘In here,’ I cried, leading the way. ‘My aunt is in here.’

  The big man with the beard told me his name was Tony. ‘How long has she been sick?’ He took something out of his bag, turned Aunt Naomi on her side and slid the thing into her mouth.

  I tried to think. ‘Sunday. She didn’t seem very well on Sunday.’

  The other man kept bringing gear in. There were two machines with TV type screens. An oxygen bottle. They put a mask over her face. A drip into her arm. They worked quickly, talking quietly and asking me questions I couldn’t answer. ‘What date is the baby due?’

  ‘March, I think,’ I faltered. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘You’re not sure?’ I could hear all sorts of comments in that one question.

  ‘It’s the religion,’ I said desperately. ‘They prayed. They said she’d be all right. They won’t tell me anything.’

  ‘She’ll have to have a Caesarean,’ Tony said. ‘Will that be a problem?’

  I shook my head. ‘No. I don’t think so.’

  ‘Good. We’ll take her to hospital. Can you come? We’ll need to know how to contact her husband.’

  Gently, they lifted her onto a stretcher. I watched their faces and Tony had his lips pinched together and he frowned.

  I climbed in the back of the ambulance. ‘Sit there,’ he said, pointing at a little seat behind the driver. He sat beside her head.

  ‘She’s very sick, isn’t she?’ I whispered.

  ‘Yes, but we’ll have her to hospital double quick.’ As he said it, the ambulance moved and the siren shrieked. The driver was talking into the radio, but I couldn’t hear because of the partition between us.

  ‘What’s wrong with her?’ I asked. ‘My uncle won’t tell me. He’ll say I don’t need to know — but I do!’ And so will Daniel.

  Without taking his eyes from Aunt Naomi, he told me. ‘She’s very ill. It’s called pre-eclamptic toxaemia.’ He nodded in the direction of the driver. ‘J
ohn’s radioed the hospital to tell them to have specialists waiting. They’ll take her straight to theatre.’

  The siren wailed somewhere above my head. ‘They only use the siren when it’s real bad, don’t they?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said gently, ‘that’s right. You’d best be prepared. This is an extreme emergency. Your aunt is very, very ill.’

  I started shaking. Aunt Naomi was dying. Uncle Caleb would kill me whatever happened. He’d say it was the will of God and who did I think I was to question that.

  We got to the hospital and they had her out of the ambulance almost before it had stopped. I climbed out and stood. Where should I go? What should I do? At last, Tony came back. He took my arm and led me inside to a waiting room. ‘They’re looking after her. How do we get hold of her husband?’ I told him and a woman went away to ring Uncle Caleb.

  ‘You did well, lassie. All we can do now is wait.’

  Uncle Caleb would pray. I didn’t. I waited. There were magazines but I couldn’t look at them. I sat on a hard chair and tried to stop shivering. It must have only been about fifteen minutes before Uncle Caleb strode in. ‘My wife? Where is she?’

  A nurse led him away. He hadn’t even seen me and I have to admit I was glad. Somebody touched my arm. Daniel. I jumped up and threw my arms round him. ‘Oh, Daniel, I’m so pleased to see you!’

  He actually hugged me back. ‘How is it that you knew she was ill? You were at school!’

  So I told him what I’d done. ‘Uncle Caleb will kill me,’ I said dismally.

  Daniel was silent for a long time, then at last he said, ‘This has shown me I cannot live this way, Kirby. I knew my mother needed help. I told my father, but he said he had prayed and all would be well. So I did nothing. It was not my place.’ He turned to look at me. ‘If you had thought the same way, then my mother would have no chance of life. She might even be dead at this very moment.’

  ‘Daniel,’ I whispered, ‘she is very ill.’ I told him everything the ambulance man had told me. I even remembered the words: pre-eclamptic toxaemia.