The Prophet Calls

by Melanie Sumrow

  I don’t feel very happy about it. I feel betrayed and disgusted and mostly sad for all of us. First, the Prophet took away my friend Channing. And then, Tanner. And now, Meryl.

  Amy shadows Mother with a pincushion as she shapes and tucks the simple white fabric around Meryl’s body, forming a wedding dress. With everything that’s been happening, I miss music now more than ever.

  While Mother and Amy tighten the back of the dress, I scoot on the floor, inch by inch, toward Mother’s cutting table. I check over my shoulder to make sure they’re not looking and pull my violin case from its hiding spot beneath the table.

  With a breath, I open the case. My honey-colored instrument lies waiting for me in blue velvet. I press my lips together and silently glide my finger along the A string, longing to play.

  “Grab that lace for me, will you?” Mother says, startling me. I knock my head against the bottom of the table and accidentally pluck the string. The note reverberates throughout the room, and I quickly mute it with the palm of my hand. My chest tightens.

  Amy’s eyes go wide behind her glasses.

  The top of my head throbs. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to,” I say as I check Meryl’s reflection. But she doesn’t even seem to notice what I’ve done.

  “Another pin, please,” Mother says to Amy. Mother moves around Meryl, ready to secure the next fold, acting as if nothing happened.

  “But wait, what did you—” I fumble to close my case. “You said lace?”

  “That one.” She points to the trim she’s pulled from her fabric closet.

  Amy gives me a relieved smile as I hop up to retrieve the bolt of wide white lace from Mother’s sewing chair.

  Mother gestures to Meryl’s front. “Try and overlay that across the top, will you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, wiping my sweaty fingers across my skirt before I hand Amy the scalloped edge. She takes it and we stretch the lace across Meryl’s bodice, revealing the delicate floral pattern.

  Mother looks at Meryl’s reflection with an approving smile. “There. Do you like it?”

  Amy pushes her glasses up her nose and enthusiastically nods. “It’s so pretty.”

  Meryl’s sullen face remains unchanged in the mirror. She shifts a little, her hip jutting to the side, as she seems to evaluate herself. Even with her puffy eyes and red nose, Meryl is still my most beautiful sister.

  She sniffles and shrugs.

  Mother’s shoulders sink. “All right,” she says, her disappointment obvious. Amy drops the edge of the lace as Mother nods to herself. “Keep heart. We’ll find it. We haven’t checked the scraps yet,” she says, her voice suddenly too perky. “There might be a hidden treasure in them.”

  With new energy, Mother rifles through a pile of folded scrap fabrics, remnants from past dresses. I roll up the jilted lace and place it on her cutting table.

  The phone rings.

  “That darn phone,” Mother Lenora’s muffled voice huffs from the kitchen upstairs. Her footsteps thud across the floor as the phone rings again. “I’m going to rip it straight out of the wall if it keeps ringing like this.”

  Mother’s expression tightens as she spies the clock on the wall. “Girls, give me a second,” she says, dropping the scrap as she hurries from the sewing room and down the hallway toward the telephone. “I’ll get it!” she shouts upstairs.

  The phone rings again.

  “It’s about time,” Mother Lenora replies, her voice a little louder. “Here I am trying to cook for the entire family, while you play dress-up with Meryl.”

  I edge to the doorway as Mother answers on the fourth ring. She turns toward the wall, as if trying to hide. She doesn’t seem to notice me spying on her.

  Mother cups her hand over the receiver to mute her voice. “Now’s not a good time.”

  Who’s she talking to? She turns away from me, and I take a small step into the hallway, craning my neck to hear.

  “Call me back?” She pauses to listen. “No, Thursday’s the wedding.” Mother nods and whispers, “Okay, talk to you then.”

  Who could she be talking to? By now, Uncle Max has made sure the entire community of Watchful knows the exact date of the wedding.

  “I love you, too,” Mother whispers.

  My heart stops. She never says that to Father.

  “What’s going on?” Amy asks as she sneaks up behind me.

  My hand covers my racing heart.

  “What?” Amy asks. “Is she talking to Tanner again?”

  I spin around to face my sister; she slaps a hand over her mouth. Tanner? I grab her wrist, trying to pull her hand from her lips. “What did you say?”

  Amy mumbles through her fingers. “Nothing.”

  Mother straightens her skirt as she nears. “All right, back to work, girls.”

  “Is it true?” I ask her. “Was that really him?”

  She brushes past us, returning to the sewing room and acting as if she didn’t hear me.

  My mind races. “Where is he? Is he okay? Why didn’t you let me talk to him?”

  Mother gives me a look of warning, shutting me up, before she lowers her voice, “Let’s discuss this later.”

  But I desperately want to find out how my brother’s doing.

  “Please,” Mother says, her eyes begging as Mother Lenora’s footsteps echo across the kitchen floor. She sternly points at the ceiling. “Later.”

  I press my lips together and nod, remembering the Prophet forbids anyone from associating with apostates. We could all get into trouble for merely saying my brother’s name.

  “Can I go upstairs now?” Meryl asks.

  “Absolutely not,” Mother barks, redirecting her focus. “The wedding is in a few days, and we have too much to do.”

  Meryl folds her arms over her chest. The fabric between her shoulders pulls and then rips a little.

  Amy winces.

  “Nobody’s going to care what I’m wearing,” Meryl says.

  “I care,” Amy whispers.

  Mother shakes her head as she spins Meryl around to examine the tiny tear with her fingers. “Your future husband certainly will.”

  “Why?” Meryl shrinks from Mother’s probing fingers. “I’m going to be his thirteenth wife. It’s not like it’s going to be his first wedding.”

  Mother’s cheeks flush. “Meryl.”

  “Mother,” Meryl responds with a sarcasm so sharp it slices the air between us. Our mother’s eyes cut in my direction, as if she’s making sure she hadn’t misheard and it was really me who said it.

  I shake my head as Meryl’s hands land on her hips. “What are you looking at Gentry for?”

  It’s the first time I’ve ever heard Meryl act disrespectful to Mother. To anyone. If the circumstances weren’t so horrible, I’d be cheering: My perfect sister isn’t so perfect anymore.

  But, as it is, I feel sorry for them both. They’re so miserable. We all miss Tanner. Deep down, I don’t think any of us, except Father, really want this wedding to take place.

  Mother sighs, her palm against her stomach. “You must open your heart to what the Prophet has revealed for your life.” It sounds like she’s trying to convince herself as much as my sister. “This is the Prophet’s calling and your mission.”

  “The Prophet’s?” Meryl says with a dry laugh. “I think you mean Father’s.”

  My jaw drops.

  “Bite your tongue,” Mother snaps as she starts pacing the room. “Your eternal salvation depends on this.”

  “Father used me,” Meryl says, pressing her hand against her chest. “He traded me off as if I was nothing more than an old car part. Just so he could get Uncle Max off his back.”

  I suddenly feel off-balance. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Please don’t fight,” Amy says.

  Meryl whips around to face me, her hair slipping from her braid in all directions. “You better watch your step. You could be next.”

  I’ve never seen her so undone. My insides twist.
<
br />   “Enough!” Mother shouts, startling us all.

  Amy covers her ears.

  Mother slams her fist on the table. “You will not talk about your priesthood head in that manner.”

  “Why not?” Meryl retorts. “It’s true.”

  My gaze darts between their angry faces. “What’s true?” Although Meryl’s the youngest girl I know to get married, I’ve heard stories of girls younger. But that was a long time ago, I think. I hope. “Mother?”

  Mother takes a deep breath. “You’re only thirteen. You’re far too young to get married.”

  I manage a breath.

  “What about me?” Meryl cries, her anger fading into desperation. “I’m too young, too, aren’t I?”

  Mother’s eyes fall to the hem of her long skirt.

  Meryl moves away from the mirror and snatches Mother’s hands, commanding her attention. “I can’t do this. Please, please talk to Father. I just need a few more years.”

  I nod as the rip on the back of her dress grows. Yes, please help her.

  Mother shakes her head. “You belong to the Prophet, and he has revealed your path.”

  A whimper escapes Meryl’s lips.

  Amy’s hands drop from her ears as Mother slides her fingers from Meryl’s grasp. “Now, if I remember correctly, Mother Dee used a white satin ribbon on Gwen’s blanket. I’m going upstairs to see if she has any left. And when I return, you will do best to remember who you are.”

  Her feet pound up the stairs; my heart sinks with each step. Mother has made her choice: the Prophet over her own daughter. Over her own son. Just as her faith requires.

  “Why’s she mad at me?” Amy wheezes, tears forming in her eyes.

  “She’s not,” Meryl and I say in unison.

  “She’s mad at me,” I say and approach Amy to give her a hug.

  Meryl smears the tears from her cheeks and wraps her arms around both of us. “And me,” she says.

  The three of us hold one another for a few seconds when I whisper, “How long has she been talking to Tanner?”

  Meryl sniffles. “Pretty much since he left.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Amy catches her breath. “I wanted to tell you since we don’t keep secrets.” From how she says it, I can tell it’s been eating her up inside.

  “Mother didn’t want you to get your hopes up,” Meryl adds. “She made us promise not to say anything.”

  I clench my jaw, disappointed they didn’t tell me anyway. But at least now I know Tanner’s alive.

  After a few seconds, Amy turns to Meryl, her voice raspy. “Why don’t you like your dress?”

  Meryl takes a deep breath, encouraging Amy to do the same. I take one, too. We stand there for a second—forehead to forehead to forehead—and breathe. I wish I could freeze time. I miss Tanner so much, and as much as she can bug me, I don’t want Meryl to leave, either. I nearly say so when she whispers, “I like the dress. I’m sorry.”

  I nod. “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Me too,” Amy says, and Meryl and I laugh a little.

  Meryl gives Amy an extra squeeze. “But you didn’t do anything wrong, remember?”

  Amy smiles. “But I probably will.”

  We laugh again.

  “I bet Gentry beats you to it,” Meryl says, playfully smacking my arm with the back of her hand.

  “Hey,” I say, rubbing the place she hit and pretending to be offended. It’s the first genuine smile I’ve seen on her face since she learned of the engagement. I don’t want to ruin the moment, but what she said is still nagging me. “What did you mean when you said I could be next?”

  The joy slides away from Meryl’s face, and I immediately regret asking.

  Meryl walks over to the cutting table and flips on the lamp to examine the lace under the light. She shrugs. “I guess I thought my age would protect me.” She fingers the delicate flowers. “I honestly thought I’d be able to finish school before I got married.”

  I step toward her. “Who said you can’t finish school?”

  Meryl drops the edge of the lace and presses her hands together. “I’ll be a wife. And soon, a mother. Uncle Max says there won’t be any time for me to go to school.”

  My back stiffens. “But he has twelve other wives to do stuff around the house. Why can’t he let you finish school?”

  “I don’t get to go to school, and I’m okay,” Amy says, trying to console Meryl, but it makes me feel guilty all over again. When Mother brought Amy to start school with all the other kids her age, Uncle Max turned her away. In front of everybody. He said she wasn’t capable of learning. My hands clench from the memory. She cried for a whole week after that.

  Meryl nods at Amy with a small smile. “Come now. You’re more than okay.”

  Amy carefully touches the white fabric sleeves, pinned on Meryl’s soon-to-be wedding dress. “What’s wrong with being a wife and mother?”

  “Nothing,” Meryl says with a sigh. “I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon, that’s all.”

  I know I shouldn’t question the Prophet’s choice for her, but now Meryl has me wondering whether this match is truly the will of God or something else.

  “He’s so old,” Meryl weakly says under her breath and then falls against me. I don’t know what else to do, so I hold my sister. Tight.

  Amy joins in, and over her shoulder, I spot my violin case on the floor. My breath catches as the puzzle pieces suddenly snap into place. “This is because of me, isn’t it?”

  Meryl slips from our embrace, denying it a little too quickly. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “But if you hadn’t stuck up for me about my violin, Uncle Max wouldn’t have been coming over here so much, and maybe Father—”

  Meryl grabs my hand, stopping my downward spiral. “It’s not your fault. I don’t want you to think that ever.”

  “But it is my fault,” I say, wrenching free of Meryl’s grasp. “I have to do something.”

  Amy nods. “I wanna help, too.”

  “No,” Meryl says, firm as she points between us. “You two will do nothing. Understand?” She’s sounding a little more like her usual bossy self, but this time, her words ring hollow. She clears her throat and nods. “If this is what has been revealed to the Prophet, then Mother’s right: We should not question.” She touches Amy’s cheek, reassuringly. “I just got a little nervous, that’s all. All better now.” Then, Meryl glances at herself in the mirror, as if seeing the new dress-in-progress for the first time.

  She checks the rip in the back and lifts her chin. “Perfect obedience produces perfect faith and, thereby, perfect people.” When Meryl repeats the Prophet’s well-known phrase, Amy says it with her. They both look to me, expecting me to join them the third time around. But I can’t. Not when, deep down, this all feels so wrong. I have to do something to stop the wedding. But what?

  A scream from upstairs yanks me from my thoughts.

  “Was that Mother Lenora?” Meryl asks.

  We all run upstairs to find Mother Lenora hunched over in a kitchen chair, crying. “My baby, my baby,” she says over and over.

  A red-faced Buckley looms quietly over her, his black felt hat in hand.

  We’re a little winded from the stairs. Our chests heave as we look to ourselves and around the room for answers. Father’s not here to give them.

  Most of Mother Lenora’s children stand around her, still. Kate looks pale by the window.

  Finally, one of Mother Lenora’s sons rushes in, followed by Mother Dee with Gwen strapped around her middle. Mother’s on their heels, carrying a spool of white satin ribbon. “We’re here. What happened?”

  Kate cries softly into the sink. “It’s Kel,” she says, sounding heartbroken as she turns my direction. “He ran away.”

  10.

  From Watchful’s highest hill, I shiver against the dry November wind and hug my arms around my chest. The brittle white sage rustles around us. Next to me, Amy buzzes her lips and zips her ja
cket over her long dress.

  “Should we look for Kel again?” Amy asks, her voice bobbing up and down as she tries to keep warm. She plunges her hands deep inside her pockets.

  I nod, even though I know it’s no use. Buckley told me, when Father stopped to gas his truck this morning, Kel jumped out and ran toward a rusted orange pickup. He sped off and disappeared before Father could even react.

  Even though I know he’s long gone, I couldn’t stand to be in the house another second. Not with all the yelling and blame going around.

  Buckley and his God Squad questioned each of us. Twice. But the answer remains the same: We don’t know anything. Kel’s always been good with secrets. And in the last few hours, he’s become one.

  We’re not supposed to talk about him anymore. He’s an apostate now, and we’re supposed to forget about him. I don’t see how when I still haven’t forgotten about Tanner.

  The sun dips in the sky and saturates the clouds in fiery red and orange. The smell of piñon smoke wafts from the houses below and tickles my nose.

  Amy sneezes. “See him?” she asks with a sniffle.

  “Not yet,” I answer as my gaze stretches beyond our wall that keeps the rest of the world out and to the purple-and-gray mountains in the distance. Kel is out there somewhere. And Tanner, too.

  In only a few days, Meryl will be sealed to Uncle Max. Even though she’s only moving to the other side of Watchful, somehow it feels like she’s moving just as far away as Tanner and Kel. I wish there was something I could do to stop the wedding.

  From out of nowhere, I hear the slip of gravel and spot Kate running uphill. Clouds of icy breath obscure her face. “There you are,” she says when she reaches us. She hunches over, her hands on her knees as she catches her breath. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

  The cold breeze blows the dark hair that’s fallen from her braid, and in the dimming sunlight, I can see the fresh bruise across her cheek.

  Amy gasps as she seems to see it, too. “Did you fall?”

  Kate stands straight and clenches her jaw.

  I stiffen. “Who did that to you?”

  “Buckley,” she says with an exasperated sigh. “He just couldn’t believe Kel’s own twin didn’t know anything about him running away.”