“This is literally the greatest honor you could have possibly brought to our family, Mary,” said her father. “I am so, so proud of you.” He kissed Mary’s forehead.
The next evening, there was a big celebration in honor of Mary and the Lord’s baby. The doctor had spread word to the town, and the town prophet backed him up. Everyone believed (or at least pretended to believe) the town prophet: it was a miracle. At the celebration there was music, dancing, and all the best foods: meat and fish and cakes. Best of all, everyone brought Mary presents. People who usually ignored Mary came to pay their respects and give her flowers, clothes, and even a few jewels. Mary had never had nice things like this before. It was the best party she had ever seen, and it was all for her. Perhaps being pregnant with the Lord’s baby isn’t so bad after all, Mary thought. I could get used to this lifestyle. It’s sort of like being married to the king.
Then Joseph appeared next to her, and she remembered that her father had already sold her to Joseph, that she actually had to marry someone who was not a king. Suddenly Mary felt as if Joseph was not good enough for her. She had been chosen by the Lord to carry his son. He could have magically impregnated any girl on Earth without asking first, but he chose Mary. She must be very special indeed. Joseph was nothing but a carpenter.
“Mary,” Joseph said. Joseph was thirty years old, tall and thin with a full beard. He was not bad-looking, but Mary was not sexually attracted to him. Mary was not exactly sexually attracted to anyone. Sometimes she imagined kissing boys, but not having sex with them. Sex seemed vulgar, and like it would hurt. She had seen the doctor’s tools, which were quite small. But they had still hurt, and made her bleed. Imagine what a man could do.
“Joseph,” said Mary. She had not yet spoken to him, not since her encounter with the angel. Mary’s father had explained everything to Joseph, though, and he’d reported to Mary that Joseph took it all fine. “Joseph, I just want you to know—”
“Shh,” he said, putting a finger up to Mary’s lips. “I know, Mary. I believe you. I mean, I didn’t at first. I was planning to quietly break things off between us, but then an angel appeared in my dream and told me not to be afraid to take you, because it is the Lord’s baby.”
Mary frowned.
“I know you’d never betray me,” Joseph said. “You’re a good girl, Mary. The Lord recognized that, and blessed you with this gift. Blessed us with this gift. I will stand by you and help you raise the child as if he were my own.” Joseph held his head high. “I’ve always wanted to be a father,” he said.
“But you’re not the father,” said Mary. She swept her arm around in a circle to show many people were at the celebration. “That’s kind of what this whole thing is about.”
“Well, yes, but—I just meant that I’m happy for you, and I want you to know that I’m not going to leave you.”
“You can be like the stepfather, I guess,” said Mary. “If it’s okay with the Lord. The angel made it very clear that this is all going to be on the Lord’s terms.”
Joseph nodded. “I’m sure it will be okay.” He squeezed Mary’s hand. “I love you, Mary,” he said. He had never said this to her before. She didn’t know what to do.
“Thank you, Joseph,” she said.
Joseph nodded. Then, mercifully, he walked away to talk to some other men.
That night as she lay in bed, Mary began to have disturbing thoughts about the baby and his father. If God was everyone’s Father, then he was Mary’s Father, too. It was gross for fathers to impregnate daughters. Although it had happened many times before, Mary didn’t like it. The thought of being impregnated by her own human father was more than Mary could bear. It made her want to vomit and then die. Also, would this make Jesus her brother as well as her son?
A few months went by like normal. Mary helped her family with the sheep and other animals. She took walks along her little stream in the woods. She addressed her prayers to the father of her child. She went to visit her cousin, who was also pregnant. Her belly began slowly to grow, so that now she actually looked pregnant. Mary examined herself in her mother’s mirror. She frowned. This wasn’t how a pregnant woman was supposed to look. Where were her breasts? Mary had hardly developed any breasts at all so far, not like the girls of sixteen or seventeen. It was true her breasts had swelled slightly since the pregnancy, but still, they were quite small. Mary wondered how they could possibly hold enough milk to feed the baby. You could fit maybe a tablespoon in each, but that was hardly anything! She supposed the Lord would help her out, somehow. The Lord often allowed regular babies to die, but Mary was sure he wouldn’t let that happen to the messiah, the boy who was supposed to save all mankind.
One morning at home, Mary woke with a start. It was very early, still dark outside, and she’d heard a loud crashing sound. Mary jumped out of bed, clutched her nightgown tight against her body. She put her ear against her bedroom door. Had someone broken in? She looked around for a weapon, and found only a heavy candlestick. She grabbed it and slowly opened her bedroom door.
Mary didn’t see anyone there, but she did see that the house was completely torn apart. The table and chairs had been broken with an axe. The walls had been slashed, too. The floor was littered with broken glass from jars and dishes. Food was smeared on the walls and the floor. The door to outside was wide open.
“Mother! Father!” Mary called. She ran to their bedroom door and pounded on it. They came out.
“What is it?” her mother asked. “What happened?”
Mary showed them the damage. “Oh, Lord,” said her father.
“Yes,” Mary said. “Oh, Lord.”
They looked around. Nothing had actually been stolen—whoever broke in had just wanted to trash things, to cause damage. They went outside to look at the house from a different perspective. Someone had taken an axe to the outside, too. It looked as if a hurricane had attacked just this one house. Across the front door in red paint, the words:
WATCH OUT, SLUT!
Mary’s mother sighed, then calmly said, “So they’ve finally come. The unbelievers.”
“What?” said Mary.
“I was wondering when this would happen.”
Mary stared at her mother. “Well, you seem quite unsurprised!”
“Of course I’m not surprised, honey,” her mother said. “I mean, are you surprised? Really? Did you think everyone was just going to believe you that it’s the Lord’s baby you’re carrying?”
“Well, kind of, yeah,” said Mary. “Because it is the Lord’s baby. Plus, everyone seemed to believe me when we had that celebration! People brought me presents. I never get presents normally.”
“Well,” said her mother, “yes, I can see how that would be confusing to someone like you. But, I have to break it to you: not everyone believes you. Not even back then, they didn’t. But enough of them did that those who didn’t had to pretend they did. You know what I mean? Now enough time has passed for people to think it over a bit. And really, it just doesn’t make sense. Why would the Lord choose you to carry his magic messiah child? You’re just a shepherd’s daughter. No offense, I love you more than anything, honey, it’s just that to someone like the Lord, you can’t possibly be that impressive. Why wouldn’t he choose some sort of princess or queen? Or at least someone glamorous, someone highly valued for her beauty? Perhaps someone who has already borne children, to be sure she could handle it, without dying? Perhaps someone a bit…” Mary’s mother again looked her up and down as if assessing whether or not a cow was ready for slaughter. “Perhaps someone a bit more mature, particularly in the chest and hips departments.”
“Mom!” Mary said.
“Sorry,” said Mary’s mother.
Mary began to cry. “It’s okay,” Mary said to her mother. “You’re right. It doesn’t make sense. Why would the Lord pick me? I’m nobody! I’m nothing.”
Mary’s moth
er put her arms around Mary and kissed the top of her head. “Oh, sweetie,” she said. “My darling girl. My sweet princess.” Her mother rubbed her hand over Mary’s belly, and began to hum the tune of a lullaby.
“Well,” said Mary’s father to no one in particular, for he was not looking at the women and not speaking very loud at all, “I guess I’ll go get my toolbox.”
Joseph helped Mary’s father rebuild those parts of the house that could be rebuilt. Some things were simply beyond repair, and would have to be replaced entirely, little by little, as they did not have enough money to cover everything at once.
“Is there even any point?” Mary asked. “Won’t the unbelievers just come back, and destroy everything all over again?”
“It’s possible,” said Joseph. “But we have to try. You’re worth it.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” said Mary’s father. He clapped Joseph on the back. “Mary, this man will make a good husband, and a good father to Jesus.”
Joseph beamed.
“Although, of course, technically you aren’t his father,” said Mary’s father.
“True,” said Mary. “He’s not.”
Joseph wiped the smile off his face, then went back to rebuilding things.
Mary supposed she should be a little more grateful for Joseph. After all, he had believed her about the baby and not rejected or threatened her. And he was nice, much nicer than a lot of other men in town.
Mary decided to go on a walk to clear her head. “I’m fine,” she said to Joseph, her father, and her mother, when they asked where she was going and why. “I just want to clear my head.”
“Do you want one of us to come with you?” asked Joseph.
“No, thank you,” Mary said.
Joseph nodded. He tried to smile but Mary could see the hurt in his eyes. She must try to be nicer to Joseph. He was a good man. He wanted to help her raise the baby as if it were his own. A lot of men wouldn’t be able to handle that, knowing the baby wasn’t theirs. A lot of men would send the baby away. Mary didn’t want to send the baby away. She had grown quite attached to him at this point. She didn’t know whether or not she’d be able to let him out, when the time came. He was part of her body. He was just a part of her body. It was like nothing had changed at all, and yet everything had changed. People said she was two now instead of one. Mary and Jesus, both contained inside Mary. How could one life live inside another?
“You really shouldn’t go out alone,” said her father. “Not after what they wrote.”
Mary and Joseph walked to her little stream, not speaking. Joseph held Mary’s hand to help her sit down on a large rock. Together they watched the water in the stream flow along. They listened to the water knock against the pebbles. They listened to the hum of dragonflies. Suddenly Mary felt her face move itself toward Joseph’s, she felt her lips kiss him on the mouth and she felt him kiss her back, feeling the two drink each other in like water in a parched desert.
Mary moved off of Joseph and looked back at the stream. “He’s just part of my body,” she said.
“Pregnancy is a miracle,” said Joseph. “You have the power to give life.”
“I don’t want this,” Mary said.
“You don’t want what?”
“This is all wrong. I had already planned things out. I wanted to name my first male child William, after my father, because I love my father, you know? Of course, if you wanted to name him after your father, I would be open to that, just as long as we had an additional male child so we could name one William. And I also planned to get pregnant after getting married. This isn’t fair. I followed the rules and stayed a virgin, and for what? To get impregnated against my will, with no choice at all in the matter, and people ruined our house and broke all our stuff and I never did anything to deserve that!”
Joseph put his hand on hers, signaling that he wanted, needed her to stop talking. “Mary, you shouldn’t say such things. The Lord has given you a very important job. You should be honored! I need you to be good, Mary. I need you to be a good girl.”
“I’m your wife,” said Mary.
“Yes,” said Joseph. “I’m very happy about that, my sweet Mary.”
“I’m not a good girl,” she said. “I’m a woman.”
Joseph squinted his eyes at her and scrunched up his face. He looked very skeptical indeed.
“I’m going to be a mother, Joseph,” she said.
“Well, yes, I suppose you are,” he said.
Mary looked at the trees, at the ends of their branches where the wood was thin and sharp. She had heard about a procedure certain doctors could perform, witch doctors, a procedure involving a sharp object inserted into a woman which could rid her of her trouble...Perhaps Mary could find someone to do this for her.
The sky opened up like an earthquake, and the golden angel descended from the world above the clouds.
“You must not think of such things, Mary,” said the angel.
“Speak of the devil,” Mary replied.
The angel screamed, then made a cross out of his hands. He looked around frantically, but when he saw there was no devil around, he relaxed.
Mary looked over at Joseph. He was apparently watching the stream, unaware of the angel. “Joseph?” Mary said. He didn’t answer. She moved her hand in front of his face, but he didn’t react.
“He can’t see me,” said the angel. “He isn’t aware of any of this. He won’t remember it.”
“Well, why not?” Mary asked. “You appeared to him in a dream, so why not now?”
“Actually, I didn’t appear to Joseph in a dream,” said the angel. “That was just...a dream Joseph had, I guess. That was just a coincidence.”
“Well, maybe you could appear to him now. Not just him, actually, but the whole town, and maybe you could tell them the truth? That would sure make things a lot easier for me and my family. You know, someone just trashed our house. They broke a bunch of our stuff, and we can’t afford to fix it all. Plus, they threatened me and called me a slut.”
“Don’t say ‘slut,’” said the angel.
“But—”
“Don’t say it.”
“But you just said it.”
“Mary, haven’t you ever heard the phrase, ‘Do as I say, not as I do’? This is one of those situations where that phrase applies. I am like one of the king’s officers: I’m allowed to break the rules in order to make sure that others don’t break the rules. As for your question about me telling the villagers the truth, you already know I can’t do that. Angels can’t just talk to everyone. Then everyone would know that we’re real. Then there would be no test of faith. The Lord wants people to accept him without being given a reason to accept him. That’s how he determines whether or not someone gets into Heaven.”
“About that,” said Mary. “Why did the Lord send you to tell me I was pregnant? Why couldn’t he speak to me himself?”
“He’s very busy,” said the angel.
“Well, yes, but this is his child we’re talking about.”
“We are all children of the Lord,” said the angel. “Do you think he has time to visit every girl who gets herself pregnant?”
“I didn’t get myself pregnant,” Mary said. “I never agreed to this. You simply informed me. Also, you said this child was special, the messiah, savior of all mankind.”
The angel sighed. “Look, Mary, I don’t make the rules, okay? I just do what the Lord tells me to do, anything he tells me to do. He does not like to be questioned, so I suggest you adjust your attitude. Have you ever heard the story of Abraham and Isaac? The Lord does not like to be questioned.”
“I want out,” Mary said. “I want you to take this baby away. Why don’t you just put the messiah inside of a different girl? Like, maybe someone who is already married, so that nobody judges her? Maybe someone who actually wants to have a
child right now?!” Mary was getting worked up. The more she thought about it, and the longer she looked at the angel’s stupid perfect face, the angrier she got.
“Now, Mary,” said the angel, “it seems you have become a bit emotional in your state. This happens sometimes to pregnant girls. I’m going to forgive you for the things you said. I know you didn’t mean them. The Lord knows exactly what he’s doing. Whatever his reasons for choosing you specifically to carry his child, which, believe me, I do not know what those reasons are, I don’t know what he could possibly see in you, but the point is that he did choose you and he knows best.”
“You’re not going to take the baby away from me,” Mary said. “You don’t care about me at all.”
“Of course I care about you, Mary!” said the angel. “I just don’t care what you think, or what you want.”
Mary stood up and reached out her arm to touch the angel. She felt nothing. “You’re not real,” she said. “None of this is real. Joseph can’t see you because you’re not real. I must be crazy. I’ve been driven crazy. Oh, God, whose baby am I carrying?” Mary began to sob.
“Mary,” said the angel, “you must not pursue this line of thinking. This is the Lord’s baby.”
She said, “What happens if I get rid of it myself?”
The angel shuddered. “Mary, you mustn’t say such things.”
“But what would happen?”
The angel looked at the ground. “You know what would happen, Mary.” He patted her head. “Cheer up, sweet girl. Everything is going to be okay.” He flew away.
The sun was now setting. Joseph snapped out of his trance. Mary said, with a quiet sadness, “We should go back now, Joseph. But thank you for coming here with me.”
“Of course, my darling,” he said. “I’d do anything for you.”
A few more months went by and soon it was time to pay taxes, and also a threat came in from another village. Mary and Joseph had to ride on a donkey to a faraway town even though Mary was so pregnant she was sure the baby would just fall out of her any day now. The journey was miserable. It took fourteen hours, and Mary had to stop and pee in the bushes about every thirty minutes.
The Paper Garden Page 5
