by Rebecca Wait
The wind rattled the windows and slid through the gaps in the wooden walls. Everywhere was gloomy and damp and cold. Her mum claimed it was ‘lovely and peaceful’. But there was no peace here. True, you couldn’t hear the traffic any more, but there were different noises, ones that disturbed Judith more than the sound of cars. The wind, howling and whistling and banging against the sides of the house. The creak of the old floors and the gurgle of pipes, footsteps on the floors above you, voices in other rooms – you could never be alone for long – doors groaning open or banging shut, a clatter of pots in the kitchen where one of the women was always working.
And away from the old houses, even when the wind had dropped, there was no quiet. On the moors when the weather was soft, you could still hear the rustle of the grass as the wind slithered through it. When you were walking through the forest and the wind was up, you could hear the creak and whine of branches moving high above, and when things were still, the cries of birds and the crackle of small creatures amongst the fir needles on the ground. Judith didn’t believe she would ever hear silence again.
She had given up trying to get her mum on her own to talk. There was always someone guarding Stephanie; Rachael demonstrating how to hem the bottom of one of those stupid long dresses they all wore, Deborah showing her a new recipe, Esther helping her do the laundry with silent efficiency. Nobody was allowed a moment to themselves. Or perhaps the others didn’t want one, Judith thought, remembering how sickly-sweet the women were with each other, as if they were dearest friends and couldn’t bear to be parted even for a second. And her mum went along with it, even though she’d only known them a couple of months. They all called her Sarah now, and her mum didn’t correct them, which annoyed Judith so much she thought she might die.
She had no one to talk to when she was upset except for Moses. He wasn’t Megan, but he was better than the others. If she ever complained to Mary or Abigail, they would say they’d pray for her, like pious, pint-sized Nathaniels. Then they’d go straight off to tell their mother, so that Judith would have to go and have a special chat with Deborah about her feelings, and would have to play down her misery so that Deborah wouldn’t tell Ruth she was struggling against the Spirit. That usually ended with Ruth saying she was ungrateful or shouting at her.
If she told Moses she was unhappy, at least he kept it to himself. But he would try to comfort her by going on about heaven, which was irritating in its own way. Judith had got rid of him today by saying she had a headache and wanted to be alone for a while.
‘Another one?’ he said. ‘Is it bad?’ His half-stained face peered anxiously at her, as though assessing her symptoms.
‘It’s OK,’ she said. ‘I just need to sit by myself for a bit. That always makes it better.’
‘OK,’ Moses said. ‘Where will you sit?’
‘The barn.’
‘Watch out for the devil.’
Judith looked at him carefully, but he was serious. Like the other children, Moses believed the devil would materialize out of the shadows to tempt him the moment he was alone.
‘That’s how he tricked Eve into sin,’ he’d explained to her once. ‘He waited until she was alone. We’re most vulnerable when we’re alone. Especially me.’
‘Why especially you?’
As usual, he refused to explain.
When she was younger, Judith had been frightened of ghosts. A boy called Tommy Reynolds had told her about them in Year 2. He said they were always watching you, waiting to take revenge for the way they’d died. The terror had stayed with Judith for years. Sitting on the dirt floor of the barn this afternoon, she remembered that fear, and experienced a moment of panic in case the devil was real, was spying on her right now. Perhaps she really would end up in hell, as Ruth had suggested, her skin being peeled off and her eyeballs melting in the heat.
Judith forced the thought aside. She’d never been scared of the devil in her life, and they couldn’t force her to believe he existed now. But what she was discovering was that it was harder to hold on to all your normal thoughts when everyone around you believed something different. You started to doubt yourself. But Megan didn’t believe in the devil, Judith reminded herself. Nor did any of her friends from school. Nobody in the real world did. It was just a scary story like the one Tommy Reynolds told about ghosts. But if you’d heard it all your life like Moses, you probably would think it was true.
She had to get out before it was too late, before all these horrible ideas about hell and the devil seeped into her. She’d tried suggesting to her mum that social services would come and rescue her, but Ruth had interrupted, snapping at her not to be so silly. If she were going to be rescued, she would have to rescue herself.
Judith got to her feet, newly invigorated.
She waited until their afternoon lessons were over to put her plan into action. The other children had gone to the barn to play Philistines and Israelites. Moses, as usual, hovered near her.
‘Shall we go to the forest?’ he said.
‘Yeah,’ Judith said. ‘But I have to ask my mum something first. I’ll meet you in the clearing.’
Moses nodded and went off, and Judith waited until he was out of sight, then looked around for any adults. There were none. Ruth had joined Nathaniel on his afternoon walk, the women were ‘quilting’ (whatever that was) in the workroom, and the men were in the town. Judith felt almost giddy at this unaccustomed freedom.
She took one last look at the hated houses, then set out along the track, wondering what she’d say to Megan when she saw her again. Megan would laugh in amazement when Judith turned up on her doorstep!
She tried not to think of Moses, waiting alone in the forest, tried not to wonder how long it would be before he realized she wasn’t coming.
By the time the track met the main road, the houses were almost out of sight. Judith decided it would be best not to walk along the road. It would be quicker to get back to the town if she descended in a straight line across the middle of the moors, since the road became so winding as it dropped down into the valley. And if they came looking for her before she made it to safety, they’d probably look along the road first. She turned and headed out across the moors, keeping the road in sight for now.
The wind was fierce. Judith zipped her coat up to her chin and kept her head down. She tried to look where she was going, but the ground was a mess of different grasses, clumps of bracken and springy heather that came up past her knees, hidden hollows designed to catch your foot and twist your ankle. Rocks stuck out from the ground like bones breaking through skin. She longed to be back in the town where the ground didn’t fight back. The pools of standing water and dark blotches of peat brought to mind Moses’ warnings about bogs, and Judith gave them a wide berth, although this didn’t stop her accidentally splashing into them from time to time. Soon her boots and socks were soaked.
She battled on, but began to feel she wasn’t making much progress. The wind beat against her, trying to force her back to the Ark, and she was quickly out of breath.
Though she thought she must have come a long way, she still couldn’t see down into the valley where the town should be, and she felt a shiver of panic at the idea she might have gone the wrong way. But surely she couldn’t have when she’d just walked in a straight line away from the houses, and then almost alongside the road for the rest of the way? As Judith looked around her, she couldn’t see any landmarks to help. In fact, she couldn’t see any distance across the sloping grasses in front of her. The valley, which she’d kept in her sights for most of the walk, had been swallowed up. So had the road. With a sinking horror, she realized the mist had come down, descending so gradually she hadn’t noticed until it was too late.
So now what? Judith put her freezing hands into her pockets and tried to stay calm. What had Moses said you were supposed to do in this situation? She heard his voice, soft and slightly anxious: you have to stay where you are, find some shelter if you can, and wait for it to lift. Don’t k
eep going, because that’s how people get sucked into bogs and drown.
Judith stumbled on for a few more metres until she came to a large rock, about the size of a person crouching. She sat down behind it on the damp ground, grateful for this small shelter from the wind, and wrapped her arms around her body for warmth. The mist curled around her and she felt it trying to blur her edges, rub her out. She would die here, she thought. They would find her body many weeks later and her mum would almost die herself from the grief and guilt. This idea comforted Judith for a little while, but then she began to feel even worse. She didn’t want her mum to be miserable forever; she just wanted her to be sorry. And she didn’t want to die.
She was considering allowing herself to cry when she spotted something strange. Two circles of light just breaking through the mist up ahead. As they came closer, the orbs turned to strips spearing through the mist. Judith stared at them without comprehension for a few moments, then realized that they were car headlights. She sprang to her feet and ran towards them.
The car almost hit her. The brakes slammed on as she leapt into the road, and Judith just had time to lurch back, out of the way. The car jolted to a stop alongside her. The doors opened and people were getting out, and then she recognized Moses’ father Seth, and Joshua and Thomas.
‘What on earth are you doing?’ Seth said. ‘We could have run you over.’ He took hold of her arm roughly, and looked at her hard, apparently checking she was unhurt. He’d sounded angry when he spoke, but his anger seemed to disappear in a moment. ‘Are you alright?’ he said.
Judith was close to tears of misery and relief. She said, ‘The mist came down.’
‘You shouldn’t be out this far alone,’ Thomas said. ‘It’s lucky we came past.’
Judith’s relief was turning to dismay as she realized how much trouble she was in.
Seth was still holding her arm. Seeing her tears, he said, ‘You’re safe now.’
‘Seth, she was running away,’ Joshua said.
Judith searched desperately for a cover story, but none presented itself. She rubbed the tears off her face with the back of her hand.
Joshua said, ‘We’re going to have to tell the prophet. This is very serious, Judith.’
There was going to be a lot of shouting, Judith thought. She hadn’t had a session yet, but she’d heard about them from Moses. She began to cry properly.
Then Thomas spoke up again. He said, ‘She’s had enough of a fright already, hasn’t she?’
‘Thomas, he’d want us to tell him,’ Seth said.
‘Tell him what?’ Thomas said. ‘That Judith went for a walk and strayed a bit too far? That she got lost in the mist? I don’t see that there’s anything to tell. He has much more important things to deal with than a lost child. A lost and found child.’
‘She was running away,’ Joshua said again.
‘Do you know that? Have you asked her?’
Judith dared to look up at Seth and Joshua, who were both staring at Thomas. There was a long silence. Then Seth crouched down in front of her. ‘Did we get it wrong, Judith? Were you just going for a walk?’
She looked quickly at Thomas, then nodded.
‘And you got lost?’
‘The mist came down,’ she said again.
‘She’s lying,’ Joshua said.
Seth didn’t answer. He was still looking at Judith.
Thomas said, ‘I think she’s telling the truth. Seth? She’s just a child.’
‘Alright,’ Seth said at last. ‘Alright. I don’t see any harm in believing her.’ He was speaking to Joshua now.
Joshua shrugged and turned back towards the car. ‘If you say so.’
‘Wait,’ Seth said, and Joshua turned. ‘Are we all agreed?’
The other men nodded.
‘Come on, trouble.’ Thomas opened the car door and gestured for Judith to get in the back. He climbed in alongside her.
They drove slowly along the road towards the Ark. With a flicker of despair, Judith saw the shadowy houses take shape and emerge from the mist. When they pulled up, Seth and Joshua got out of the car and went straight into the big house, but Thomas paused as he held the door open for Judith. He said, ‘It’ll get better. I promise.’
Judith nodded, but only to be polite. She watched him go inside. Then she thought she’d better look for Moses.
5
The mist had thinned, but it hadn’t gone the next day. A light furring lay over the moors like down. Moses didn’t know anything was wrong until breakfast was over. The men had already left the table, and he was about to turn to Judith to ask what she wanted to do after lessons, when Ruth stood up.
She said, ‘Judith, you need to come with me.’
Mary and Abigail stopped their whispering and turned to watch. Across the table, the boys sat up straighter.
Judith didn’t look back at Moses as she followed Ruth out.
He waited all day for her to reappear. He waited outside the barn, and outside the big house, and in the schoolroom. It reminded him of how he’d waited once before, the first time he ever saw her, when he hadn’t been able to believe how red her hair was.
Ruth didn’t reappear either, so there were no lessons. Moses didn’t know how to fill the time. He was no longer used to being alone.
‘Go away, devil boy,’ Ezra said when Moses hovered near the other boys, who were playing on the path by the small house, but Moses hardly cared.
By the time the men came home in the evening and they were told to gather in the barn, he knew there was going to be a session. The feeling of sickness had been building in him all day and now he was too frightened to open his mouth in case it came out.
When he followed the others into the barn, he saw that they’d put Judith on a chair in the middle of the room. Thomas had a chair next to hers, which was another shock; they almost never had two sessions at the same time. The prophet stood before them with his arms folded as they came in. His eyes seemed to blaze out of his face and Moses could almost feel the heat on him as he took his place next to Peter. There was that shiver in the air, the fear that took on a presence of its own before a session. Moses was afraid to look at Judith in case she cried and it made him cry. But he should have known better than to think she would cry.
She looked pale and tired, which wasn’t surprising – they’d had her in the prayer room all day by then. One of her cheeks was red so it looked a bit like his. She was chewing her lip and looking at her mother, who stood with the other women, her arms wrapped round her stomach and tears dripping silently down her face and onto the floor. She said to Judith, ‘It’s alright, darling. It’ll be alright.’ The prophet gave her a look and she went quiet. But she continued to stare at Judith.
Moses kept his eyes on Judith too, because after he thought about the way her mother was looking at her, he realized it was a kind of comfort, not to turn your eyes away like the others, not to leave her sitting all alone on that chair.
The prophet let them stand for a long while in silence. When Moses’ heart beat as fast as this, he got a strange light feeling in his chest like he was turning to water, like he might collapse and pour all over the floor at any moment.
Finally, the prophet spoke. Very softly, he said, ‘The devil has come amongst us.’
A pause, as they took this in.
The prophet said, ‘He has tried to tempt one of us away. We could have fallen, all of us, were it not for the righteousness of one of my followers. Joshua, thank you. Next time, I only urge you to obey the promptings of the Spirit sooner.’
Moses looked across at Joshua, who nodded solemnly in response to the prophet. Moses’ own father was looking at the ground.
The prophet said, ‘And you, Seth. You allowed yourself to be led astray.’
Moses saw his father nod, still not raising his eyes.
The prophet said, ‘Your contrition has saved you. It satisfies me, and it satisfies God – this time.’
With a shudder of relief, Moses
realized his father was to be spared. The prophet had already turned his attention to Thomas. ‘You instigated this. You instigated this lie.’
On his chair, Thomas kept his head bowed. Into the silence that followed, he murmured, ‘Forgive me.’
‘Fortunately,’ the prophet said, ‘God worked through Joshua, and then through Seth, and brought them to their senses. They realized that having the devil walk amongst us is no small matter after all.’
The silence began to grow heavy. Moses felt it pressing in around him, restricting his breath. He sent his eyes back to the floor and kept them on the toes of his shoes, willing it all to be over.
Eventually, the prophet spoke again. ‘Thomas,’ he said, his voice gentle. ‘I’m disappointed in you. Your lack of judgement. I expected so much more from you.’ Thomas raised his head slightly, and his eyes met the prophet’s. Unexpectedly, the prophet reached forward and touched Thomas’s face. Thomas seemed to flinch a little, then steady himself.
‘I know your intention was to help,’ the prophet said, his hand laid against Thomas’s cheek. ‘I know you believed you were doing the right thing. You didn’t wish to trouble me. You wanted to help Judith regain the true path on her own. That’s right, isn’t it, Thomas?’
‘Yes.’
‘You trusted your own instincts above my word and above God’s word. You’ve accepted your guilt and your punishment will be swift and merciful.’ He turned to Esther. ‘Your wife will act as the rod.’
Esther stepped forward. When she hesitated, the prophet said, ‘Do as God asks you. Esther, this is hard for all of us.’
Moses reminded himself that this wasn’t the worst part, the waiting was the worst part; that the sooner it was over the better.
Esther raised her hand and slapped Thomas’s face. The blow was half-hearted, and he didn’t even turn his head.
‘Obey God,’ the prophet said, and Moses felt his nausea returning. He remembered watching his own mother, when he was younger, being made to hurt his father. He understood it had to happen. God wanted the husband or wife to act as the rod to remind the sinner of whom they were hurting the most when they sinned. But it made the punishment especially difficult to watch.
