Shattered Dreams

by Irene Spencer

  Verlan promised he’d be home a week early to be with me, but he arrived the day after she was born. Like every other time I had a girl, he wanted to name her Olive after my mother. I loved my mother dearly, but I thought nobody deserved to go through life with a name like that. I jokingly told Verlan to name her Olive Irene LeBaron. Then her initials would be O.I.L., and we could call her Olive Oil. Instead, he named her Margaret.

  LUCY WAS PREGNANT with her seventh child and was in constant danger of miscarrying. I hired a sixteen-year-old Mexican girl, Clara, to be my housekeeper because I knew Lucy couldn’t shoulder her part of the burden without this assistance. Clara more than earned the sixty pesos a week she charged me. I gave her extra milk, used clothes, and wheat to keep her animated.

  Clara arrived for work after the children left for school. Once, while gathering up the breakfast dishes to be washed, she asked me, “Do you think you could love a Mexican baby?” I wondered if she was testing me, wanting to know if I was prejudiced.

  “I would love one!” I answered. “I think Mexican babies are all beautiful, with their dark hair and lovely brown eyes. But my husband would kill me if I had one,” I laughed.

  Clara answered me with a broad smile. “I’m so glad you said that. Yesterday, a pregnant woman came to our house, soliciting my mother to take her unborn child. My mother refused because we have eight of us in two rooms. My father’s earnings of a dollar a day don’t even begin to provide for us. Then”—Clara paused—“I thought about you. You are rich compared to us! You are such a good mother. I think maybe you should consider taking it.”

  There was not even a chance. I had seven lively children already. Plus Lucy and I were living together—all thirteen of us in a three-bedroom house with no bathroom or running water. I’d always had a soft spot in my heart for those less fortunate. I’d even rescued a puppy now and then. But a stray child when I knew I’d probably have to have several more of my own? Absolutely not.

  Clara told me this desperate woman’s plight while she cleaned the house and I cooked lunch for the kids, who would soon come in from school. Six months pregnant, she already had five small children, all on the verge of starvation. In a drunken stupor one night, her husband beat her almost beyond recognition. As Clara spun Juana’s tragic tale, I hurt for her more and more. So I finally went to see her at her home in Gómez Farías, about forty-five minutes from where I lived.

  After meeting Juana and seeing the severity of her pathetic living conditions, I knew I’d be the answer to her prayers. She admitted to me the baby’s father was an American from Casas. Her furious husband wouldn’t support her or any of their children unless she gave the unborn baby away. I left money for her to send a telegram to me in Bravo to notify me of the baby’s birth. Twelve weeks later, on June 19, 1965, I adopted the beautiful, dark-haired baby girl and named her Sandra. The next day, Margaret turned six months old, so it seemed as though I had twins. Verlan was as delighted as the rest of us because Sandra would be his child in his future kingdom.

  LATER THAT SPRING, VERLAN surprised me by sending money for me to build my own house. After eleven years, I was supposedly going to have a home of my own design, with a bathroom and electricity. I chose a plan from a magazine Verlan brought home, and I immediately hired some local laborers. The adobe walls went up fast, and it was soon roofed.

  Charlotte was coming home from Vegas as soon as school let out. I wasn’t about to endure all three of us living in the same cramped quarters, so while my home was being finished, I rented a two-room adobe house for myself and my children. It only had one window, in the bedroom, which meant the kitchen door had to be left open to let light in. I ordered three windows from the carpenter and had them installed before I moved in. The kitchen in my rental house had a cement floor, but the bedroom did not. I had to sprinkle water on the dirt floor in that room to keep the dust down. I often thanked God my mother didn’t know how I lived.

  With no electricity or water in this house, I had to resort to kerosene lamps again, and I carried fresh water half a block from my neighbor’s well. I was also back to scrubbing on the washboard because I’d left the Maytag wringer-washer with Lucy. Still, I had my own place.

  That first night in the rental house was something to remember. All seven kids were sleeping soundly as I finished my unpacking. I cut the handle off a worn-out broom like I’d seen Verlan do in my other homes. Then I tied bailing wire onto the pole and nailed it into the rafters for a closet.

  I was hanging up a few of Verlan’s shirts when I happened to smell a light blue one I’d forgotten to wash. His familiar scent brought on rushes of tears as a wonderful emotion surged through me. I crawled into bed crying, hugging that shirt to my breast, savoring it as though I actually held a part of him.

  After months of being without Verlan, I would have to share him when he got home. Lucy was as desperate as I was to have him back. And, though Charlotte was having a prolonged turn with him now, she’d soon be back to compete for his attention whenever he came home. I didn’t know which was worse—all of us having to do without him or having to share him. At least when he was gone by himself, Charlotte, Lucy, and I didn’t have to resent each other.

  I’D ONLY BEEN IN my small rental house for about a week when Charlotte’s two oldest girls, Rhea and Laura, came running down with Lucy’s daughter, Verla, to see where I lived. They let me know their father and Charlotte had arrived from the States. Verlan wanted me to come greet them at Lucy’s. The three girls left immediately to help Verlan unload the truck. He’d brought some used bikes for them.

  I wanted to see Verlan alone, so I waited impatiently for him to come to me. Sure enough, he rushed in all excited. “Look, Irene. Look what Betty sent you!” Knowing it was a gift I’d waited years for, his face was all lit up as he handed me the box. I opened it and started to cry. I pulled out the most beautiful, gold-colored radio I’d ever seen. And it was mine.

  Verlan handed me four extra batteries. “It runs on these as well as electricity. Betty sent her love and knows that you’ll like it.”

  For the first time in eleven years, I had music at the turn of a knob. I listened to it all day, and many times long into the night. XTRA, a music station in California, came in loud and clear in English. Of all the gifts I’d been given, that special radio was a heavenly blessing. I now had contact with the real world.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Irene, I love to come home to you. I’ve missed you. Your humor always makes me feel needed,” Verlan told me. “The new house is really looking great so far. I brought more money for the cement floors and windows. Pretty soon you’ll be in it, and then we’ll plaster the walls and paint later. You sure made up a good floor plan. It looks like it’ll be the best house in town.”

  “I will appreciate it, Verlan, but it will never be a home without you in it. I’d live in a tent if I just had someone to love me,” I sniffled.

  He stroked my hair away from my face. “Please don’t cry! I’m here now, so enjoy it.”

  “This has been the loneliest year of my life. I can’t take being abandoned all the time. Verlan, I love you, but life isn’t worth living if you’re not at home to be a husband and a father to our kids. I need you. I won’t be left for month after month like this.”

  He held me, soothing my frustrations with his kisses. I thought it was because he missed me as much as I missed him. But he was merely preparing me for another blow.

  “Irene, God works in mysterious ways his wonders to perform. Right at this moment, he is offering us a blessing. You can be a part of it. I’m depending on you to uphold me.”

  My mind raced ahead of each sentence. Is he going on a long-term mission for the church? Will he separate himself from us for even longer periods? Is he going to finish my house and then ask me to sell it?

  “You’re not listening, are you?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am. But I have a gut feeling that I don’t want to hear the rest.”

  He sat i
n silence. I could see he didn’t have the heart to tell me whatever it was. I knew it couldn’t be, there was no way it was possible, but I figured I’d say the craziest thing first, getting it over with. “You’re not getting married again, are you?”

  “See?” He grabbed me excitedly in his arms. “I knew the Lord would make it known to you! He does whisper his secrets to his faithful! Irene, I haven’t told Lucy or Charlotte yet. I need you to back me up. Please.” He threw me back on the bed, pinned me down with his body, and moved around as if he were making love to me. “Irene, I’ll love you forever!”

  I was crying too hard even to think. I didn’t want to know who it was, but I guessed I’d better ask. “Who is she?”

  “It’s Beverly Paisano. Her father already gave me permission to marry her.” Beverly’s father was one of the first Mexican converts into Joel’s church, and she’d consequently grown up at Colonia LeBaron. “Irene, she’s seventeen, and she could raise up some beautiful children for us. But don’t worry,” he quickly added, as though this would make it all okay. “She’s willing to stay down there on the LeBaron ranch. You won’t have to live with her. You’ve already sacrificed enough. I’m not even asking you to go to our wedding.”

  “Damn you, Verlan. Every time I almost get a home, thinking I can have you, my dream crumbles. Here I am on dirt floors and dying inside.”

  “God says he’ll never ask us to do anything unless he gives us the strength to do it,” Verlan reminded me.

  I screamed, “You can only get so much blood out of a turnip, and mine’s all gone! Every damn drop of it. Do ya hear?”

  When things calmed down, Verlan decided to take Lucy with him to give him his new bride. I dutifully tended Lucy’s children while she accompanied him to Colonia LeBaron. There, in May of 1965, she faithfully placed Beverly’s hand in his.

  I WAS SHOCKED to see Verlan coming through the backyard in the early morning, returning from his honeymoon. He sauntered in, kissing the kids and looking a little sheepish. I refused to let him kiss me.

  “How’s my little darling?” He followed me into the bedroom.

  “Not as well as you!” I snapped.

  “Oh, come on now. Don’t let a little thing like Beverly bother you!”

  “It’s not her thing I’m worried about,” I said bitterly. “It’s yours!”

  “Please don’t ruin things again, Irene. It seems like every time I’m here, you find something to feel bad about.”

  I didn’t comment, so he continued, talking to me as if I were one of his brothers rather than his wife. “Beverly did look beautiful in her white dress. And her black hair was in a gorgeous French braid.”

  I started beating on his chest, hysterically out of control. He threw me onto the bed, trying to hold me down. “Don’t tell me another thing about your damn wedding!”

  He laid his head on me. “Irene, I’m just trying to carry on a conversation with you. Besides, nobody’s as beautiful as you. She’ll never be able to take your place. And once I get my quorum of seven wives, our love will be secure for eternity.” He sounded perplexed as he continued. “You ought to be used to plural marriage by now. You’ve lived it for eleven years. Time is passing, and we’ve got to do our duty by building up God’s kingdom. Believe me, it’s harder on me than it is on you.”

  I fought him off me. “Like hell it is!” I felt so miserable, I wanted to fade into oblivion.

  “Irene, I have to trust God to touch your heart so you can be more understanding of our privileges and responsibilities. I think you’re looking at this negatively, when it’s not. You say it’s a curse, but it’s actually a blessing. In fact, we’re going to have a double blessing.” He paused. “Esther Castro is also marrying me in seven more weeks!”

  I went completely berserk. I called him all the names I could think of. I beat him on the chest and surprised us both by smacking his face. I lay on my bed, kicking the adobe walls, and then I wept and screamed until I was too worn out and hoarse even to speak. Verlan decided it was time to leave. He still had to share the glorious news with Charlotte and Lucy.

  I turned on the radio to soft music. The song “For All We Know” was playing. “Love, look at the two of us, strangers in many ways . . .” I wept. We were strangers all right. And after how I acted—as if I hated the Principle and held Verlan personally responsible for roping me into it—I doubted we were even friends.

  Esther’s wedding, in July 1965, was also performed at Colonia LeBaron. Beverly was there to place Esther’s hand in Verlan’s. A few days after the honeymoon, Verlan returned to the mountains. Even though it was 2 A.M. And it was Lucy’s night to sleep with him, he came in to report to me what he thought was good news.

  He told me what a great event Esther’s wedding had been. Then he went on and on about a prophecy of Joseph Smith’s implying that American Indians would be saved by being joined in plural marriages with “pure” Mormons, meaning Caucasians. Verlan was tickled to be able to help the cause. “You know that both Beverly and Esther’s fathers and families were among the first Mexicans to convert, and they’ve gathered in Colonia LeBaron to help us build up the kingdom of God. The least we can do is to embrace them in plural marriage. We’re helping their race to become white and delightsome, just as the scriptures prophesy.”

  I’d heard enough. “Don’t you ever wake me up again to tell me something like that!” I scolded as I turned my back to him. This time I didn’t rant or lash out, because I was just plain numb. I guess I didn’t give a damn.

  Thinking he’d won me over, Verlan got up to leave. “I’m glad you’re taking my marriage to Esther so well. I see you’ve finally accepted the Principle. Thanks for being so patient with me. I’ll be seeing you!” And off he went to sleep with Lucy.

  I PUSHED THE WORKERS to finish my new home quickly so I could get out of the tiny rental house with the dirt floors. Our financial circumstances did not make it possible to install a bathtub or toilet in the house, nor did I wait for the walls to be plastered or painted. I moved in as soon as the cement floors were dry. At least I had electricity again.

  Lucy rented a two-room adobe house just two blocks away, where she had no electricity. She had to bring her clothes to my house to wash, which was a great inconvenience because she was pregnant again. I couldn’t bear to see her living like that when I had it so good, so I invited her to move into my big playroom. We took turns cooking and cleaning. I may not have had a husband at home, but I certainly had a faithful sister wife.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Our enjoyment of my wonderful new house in Colonia Nicolás Bravo was, as usual, short-lived. We were on the move again. Joel’s entire “mountain utopia” turned out to be a monstrous fiasco. Within a couple of years, all the projects failed; even our cows were fed so poorly that some had to be held up in slings in order to eat the dry grass and old beans on which we forced them to survive.

  After just five months in my new house, Verlan sold it, along with Charlotte’s three-bedroom adobe home. I sold a few of my other prized possessions to obtain what little cash we took with us. I left my precious washer and furniture with a friend from church, trusting her to send me cash as soon as she returned to the States. As it turned out, her husband forbade her to pay me because Verlan still owed him for an old debt the rest of us had all forgotten. So, I basically lost everything and had to start over from scratch.

  Although the men failed at their enterprises, we took many good memories away from the mountains with us. I made wonderful friends among the Mexican people. Many of them lamented with us, expressing their grief to see us leave. While we’d been with them, we were able to help them in so many ways. I’d often shared my food and clothing, counseling them as needed. And my Spanish improved tremendously.

  The already strange and depressing circumstances of my family life, however, became ever more absurd. I now had eight living children and shared Verlan with four other wives. As if all that wasn’t challenge enough, Verlan’s growin
g loyalty to the Church of the Firstborn of the Fullness of Times now seemed to dictate our every movement and decision.

  I simply had no idea how good I’d had it up till now.

  JOEL FELT INSPIRED by God to form a new colony. So Verlan gave us orders to pick up and move to Baja California, Mexico. Land was purchased, some of which was beachfront property, and those involved hoped this would be a place of refuge for our church members. The five LeBaron brothers who participated in the venture considered the new Baja colony to be an ideal location, where each family could have a self-sustaining little place of its own.

  Joel proclaimed the climate to be exactly what we needed. “Plants practically grow by themselves from the moisture of the ocean breezes. Goats and bees thrive there; it’s a land of milk and honey. Each man can sit under his own vine and fig tree as the ancient prophet Isaiah predicted.” Like most of his dreams, Joel’s big plans for the Baja colony were never fully realized, but at first, as always, we all tried our best to believe and be excited.

  Joel set an example by immediately digging several wells on the property. He set up small pumps powered by monstrous, plywood, fanlike windmills. In Spanish, they were called molinos, so the new colony was soon known as Los Molinos.

  In Las Vegas, Verlan purchased used trailer homes he and Joel hauled to Baja and put on our designated lots. Many other families purchased used tents from the army surplus store to live in until their homes could be built.

  As compensation for having to move from my new home in the mountains, I noted that Baja was only a five-hour drive from San Diego. We were in a “free zone” in which U.S. products could be imported without any problems or duty expenses. It was also close enough so the men could work in the States during the week and then come home to be with their families on weekends. With these incentives to spur me on, I dared to hope for a better life and an improvement in our economic circumstances.