Being Magdalene (4 page)

MY BROTHER’S FACE WAS
furious. Mother was trying not to cry. I guessed Father was praying to the Lord. Luke took my hand. He didn’t look upset — if anything, he looked thoughtful.

When we stood to go to lunch, Zillah tugged me down to her level to say, ‘That’s good, isn’t it? Abraham won’t have to get another house. He can still live with us.’

It wasn’t good, but now wasn’t the time to try to explain. Philemon was a whole year younger than Abraham. He was also Elder Stephen’s grandson. That could be the reason, though I didn’t believe so. This was Abraham’s punishment for saving me. It was lucky my brother hadn’t given his heart to any of the girls — I would think of that and pray it would give me strength, for I knew people would be glad to have a topic they were allowed to gossip about during the lunch hour.

I was right — on every side I caught whisperings of my brother’s name. But, obedient as always, nobody
spoke the names of Neriah or her family. I didn’t want to listen to Mother — she’d be sure that leaving Abraham off the list was a mistake. She’d want Father to go to Elder Stephen and tell him. I didn’t want to be around when she realised it wasn’t a mistake.

Instead, I searched for Jemimah, and found her sitting huddled on a chair in a corner. I knelt in front of her and took her hands. ‘I’m still going to pray for her. She asked us all to.’

‘We’re not allowed to.’ Her voice was choked from crying.

I whispered, ‘I still pray for my … for Rebecca.’

She looked at me with hope in her face. ‘You’re not scared you’ll go to hell? You’re not scared of breaking the Rule?’

I chose my words carefully. She didn’t know about Daniel and Miriam. ‘I believe the Lord loves us. I don’t believe he wants us to suffer. I pray for my sister to live a good and godly life. I pray for her to be happy. I’m going to pray for Neriah too.’ I tugged her to her feet. ‘Come on, let’s get something to eat before the men guts it all.’

Carmel joined us. ‘No wonder N— our friend, was crying. It’ll be weird without her.’ She shook her head at the men piling their plates high. ‘Look at them! You’d think they never got a decent feed in their lives.’

Jemimah said, ‘I’d better go and help Mother. See you at school tomorrow.’

We watched her go. By the look of it, her mother had been crying too — Neriah’s mother was her sister. I knew how it felt to lose a sister.

‘Hey, Magdalene what’s up with that betrothal announcement?’ Carmel tipped her head to the side, her eyes sparkling.

I didn’t want to think about it. ‘Dunno. Only the Lord knows what goes on inside the Elders’ minds.’

She leaned in close. ‘Well, I’m glad — and you can tell your brother that.’ Then she ducked away, her face flaming.

I stared after her. She was my age — a few weeks off thirteen and still a whole year and a bit away from betrothal age — yet she’d already decided who she wanted to marry. One of us was seriously weird, and I truly didn’t know if it was her or me.

Luke drifted up beside me. ‘Don’t frown, little sister. It’ll be best if we can both look calm and accepting of the will of the Lord.’

Obedient as always, I did as he bid me. ‘Luke, I’m too young to be thinking about who I want to marry. Aren’t I?’

Now it was his turn to frown, then his face cleared as he turned to follow Carmel’s progress back to her family. ‘She gave you a message for Abraham?’

‘Yes! And so did Bernice and Eden, not that it’s any use now.’

Luke grinned — something he rarely did. ‘Looks like the way to attract girls is to ignore them.’ His face grew serious. ‘Come on, we’d better see if we can calm him down. Father’s just winding him up even more.’

I didn’t want to be anywhere near trouble, but I cringed at the thought of being left by myself where I’d be a target for curious questions, so I let him tow
me along to where Father was talking earnestly to Abraham. We arrived in time to hear our brother’s furious whisper: ‘I’m not staying, Father. This is the end. Finish. First it’s no to the electronics course — fair enough. Worldly education, blah blah. But this is too much. I’m leaving.’

It was my fault. If he hadn’t rescued me from Elder Stephen, his name would have been on the list. Now he was going to leave.
Dead to us, damned and doomed
.

I was a transgressor, a bringer of trouble. It all pressed on me, squeezing and hurting. My head was fuzzy.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor with something wet on my head and Zillah pulling at my hand. ‘Wake up, Magdalene! Don’t die. Please don’t you die!’

‘I’m not —’ I shut my mouth and my eyes. I couldn’t be sick, not here with so many people staring at me.

Arms went under my knees and shoulders, lifting me, and I heard Abraham say, ‘She’s not well. I’ll take her home.’

‘Zillah,’ I muttered.

‘Zillah, you come too. You can look after her in the car.’

I waited for Father to tell Abraham off, or for Mother to tell me to pull myself together, but Abraham was walking away and I heard nothing except avid questions from the people.

In the car, I kept my eyes shut, content to let Zillah stroke my hair as I lay on the back seat. ‘Are you dying, Magdalene?’

‘She fainted, Zillah. That’s all. She’s not dying.’That was Luke’s voice.

‘Luke? Father let you —’ I still couldn’t get enough breath into my lungs.

Abraham answered. ‘Father thinks Luke will be better at persuading me to stay than he would be.’

Zillah burst into a noisy howl. ‘You can’t leave! You’ll be dead to us and I love you, Abraham. I love you and I love Luke and Magdalene and Hope.’

None of us tried to hush her or comfort her. Maybe Luke thought the same as I did — that her distress could be the one thing to make our brother stay.

I didn’t want to be carried when we got home. ‘I’m all right.’

‘You’re white as your bloody blouse,’ Abraham said. ‘Zillah, that’s enough noise. Make a pot of tea. Luke, get us all some food.’

Zillah hiccupped into silence and filled the kettle. ‘A bloody blouse would be all red, Abraham,’ she said as she carried the teapot to the table.

It made us laugh. Abraham gave her braid a tug. ‘Little monster.’

Luke set bread, cheese, pickle and slices of cold corned beef on the table. He made me a sandwich. ‘Eat that and drink your tea.’

None of us talked while we ate. Zillah looked as if she wanted to ask a million questions.

I was the one to break the silence. ‘Abraham, it’s all
my fault. He’s punishing you, isn’t he? You shouldn’t have helped me.’

‘Don’t talk such rubbish, Magdalene Pilgrim.’ He thumped the table. ‘That old bugger’s been after our family ever since Rebecca left. It’s not your fault he’s losing his mind.’

Luke said, ‘He’s right, sis. It’s probably lucky our esteemed leader had no idea Abraham didn’t particularly want to get married.’

Abraham scrubbed his hands through his hair. It was too long, as always — another reason for the Elders to shun him. ‘That’s not the point, Luke, as you very well know.’

Zillah said, ‘Well, I think it’s good! I don’t want you to go away. I want you to stay here for ever and ever.’

He laughed, but I said, ‘You’d better explain. She needs to know, Abraham. Don’t let her think you’ve died if she wakes up one day and you’ve disappeared.’

He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘You worry too much, Magdalene.’

‘With good reason,’ Luke said, staring directly at him. ‘She knows what it’s like to be kept ignorant — to try to work things out and get it all wrong.’

‘What?’ Zillah asked. ‘I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Tell me!’

‘Thanks, bro,’ Abraham said.

Please don’t tell her about Miriam and Daniel and Esther. Not today. I can’t deal with anything else today
. I’d be the one who’d have to answer her questions for ever after, to try to explain again and again. I’d have to live every day dreading she’d speak to Father about
our lost brother, sisters and cousin. She did need to know, but not today, not yet.

Luke gave me a fleeting smile, then took hold of Zillah’s hands. ‘How much do you remember about Rebecca?’

‘She was nice. I can remember her because Rachel looks like her.’

‘Can you remember what happened the day they said she was dead?’ Luke asked.

She turned to me, her eyes wide. ‘You cried and cried, Magdalene. I remember that.’

I envied my sister her fractured memories, for the rest of us would never forget the full horror of that dreadful day.

‘I’ll tell you all about it,’ Luke said. ‘It’s dangerous though, Zillah. We’re not supposed to talk about Rebecca.’

She nodded wisely. ‘I know that, because Magdalene tells me all the time. I’d have to learn a hundred psalms and only have bread and water for years.’

‘Zillah! I never said that!’ But I was smiling.

Luke rolled his eyes. ‘All right, then. You know Elder Stephen was going to marry Rebecca?’

‘Yuck,’ said Zillah. ‘He’s too old and too mean. Is that why she died?’

‘Pretty much — except she didn’t die. She ran away, and the police stopped the Elders from bringing her back and making her marry him.’ He stopped, waiting to see what she’d ask next.

But Abraham started talking. ‘You were in the nursery, Zillah, so you didn’t see all the Elders leap
out of their seats like wasps were stinging them.’ She giggled as he acted it out, then he went on, ‘They took off and we were all sitting there with everybody asking,
What’s happening? What’s wrong?
But I was hoping like hell Rebecca’d come to her senses and run away.’

Zillah frowned. ‘But why did you hope like hell, Abraham?’

I gasped. ‘Zillah!’

She shushed me. ‘Don’t worry, Magdalene. I only say that to Abraham. Why did you hope that? It made her be dead to us and damned for ever, didn’t it?’

‘That’s what the Elders say,’ Luke said. ‘But we don’t believe it. Mother and Father do, though, and so does everybody else.’

‘Does Rachel think that? Does Rachel think she’s dead and damned?’

The boys shrugged, but I decided to tell her the truth, or what I thought was the truth. ‘She says she believes in the Rule and the Rule says Rebecca’s dead and damned. But she knows Rebecca’s still alive and I reckon she prays for her not to be damned.’

Abraham whistled. ‘Go, Rachel!’

The three of us watched him, the question we were desperate to ask unspoken.

He got up from the table to walk to the window, rubbing his hands through his hair. I guessed he didn’t want us to see his face — he didn’t want us to see he was going to leave.

First Miriam had gone, then Daniel and Esther, and we’d not seen Rebecca again after we’d left her here
in this house four years ago, dressed in her wedding gown with Mother’s own white wedding shoes on her feet. I couldn’t endure it if Abraham became dead to us too. I put my head down and wept.

LUKE PUSHED ONE OF
Father’s handkerchiefs into my hand. ‘Mop up, chicken. Crying isn’t going to help.’

His words stung. I straightened up, cut to my heart that he didn’t understand. ‘Nothing’s going to help! And don’t tell me to pray to the Lord. I prayed and prayed for Rebecca and now she’s dead to us and —’

Zillah flung her arms around my waist and hugged me tight while Luke took back the handkerchief and scrubbed my face with it. ‘Hush, Magdalene, you’re upsetting Zillah.’

I obeyed and even managed a wobbly smile. ‘I’m okay.’

Abraham swung around from the window. ‘Look, I don’t know what I’m going to do yet. But I promise I won’t disappear without telling you. All right?’

We heard the challenge in his voice — like it had better be all right because it was all he could promise. Luke and I nodded, but Zillah said, ‘Don’t go, Abraham. I don’t want you to go, and Magdalene doesn’t and Luke doesn’t.’

None of us said Father and Mother wouldn’t like it. I thought about that — and about how, when Zillah recited the names of who she loved, it was always Abraham, Luke, me and Hope. Sometimes Rachel, but not very often. I’d never once heard her say she loved our parents.

‘I’m going for a walk,’ Abraham said.

‘Me too!’ Zillah ran at him to catch his hand.

Luke stood up. ‘Let’s all go. I don’t want to be here when the parents get home.’

Abraham gave a snort of exasperation. ‘Bloody kids! I’m warning you — any moaning and I’ll throw you in the sea.’

He bundled us into the car. We’d need towels if we were going to the beach. There was no time and, truly, I didn’t care. He drove the car hard, swinging us around the corners. None of us spoke.

‘Out you get,’ he said when he pulled up. ‘I’m going for a run. You lot can do what you like.’

Zillah grabbed his hand. ‘I want to run too. Wait for me, Abraham. Don’t go without me.’

I shut my eyes, praying he wouldn’t yell at her, praying he wouldn’t just run and run and never come back, then I heard her laugh. I opened my eyes in time to see him swing her on to his back and take off.

Luke pulled me along. ‘Let’s run too, Magdalene.’

I let him tow me as far as the sand. ‘You go, Luke. I don’t want to run.’ I gave him a push.

He didn’t need persuading, and tore off down the long beach after the others. I watched them growing smaller in the distance, then I walked until I was by
myself, away from other people. There weren’t many around. It was December, but the day was cold with a sharp wind cutting the air.

I sat on the sand, watching the flat, grey sea.

‘Magdalene!’ Abraham’s voice made me jump. ‘Great heavens, girl! What are you doing?’

I looked down at my hands. They were dark with sand. I seemed to be sitting in a hole. I must have dug it, but I couldn’t remember doing so.

The boys took my arms and hauled me out. ‘You’re wet through,’ Luke said. ‘You’ve dug down to the water — with your bare hands.’

Had I? Why couldn’t I remember?

Zillah grabbed hold of my hands. ‘They’re bleeding! Magdalene, your hands are bleeding.’

I couldn’t feel them.

For the second time that day, Abraham picked me up. I heard him and Luke talking.
Doctor … shock
.

Zillah said, ‘We have to ask Father. He’ll make her learn psalms if we don’t ask him first.’

Why was she crying?

‘I’m all right. I don’t need to go to the doctor. Put me down, Abraham. I can walk.’

‘Shut up,’ my brother said.

Luke opened the car door and buckled my seat belt for me.

‘I can do it. I’m fine.’

He took no notice. Zillah slid across to the middle
seat so she could sit close to me. ‘You’re shivering and you’re all wet.’

Abraham made the engine roar, jerking the car as we moved off. I shut my eyes, glad of Zillah’s warmth as she snuggled close.

After a bit the car stopped. ‘Don’t we have to have an appointment?’ Luke asked.

Abraham just said, ‘Hold the door while I lift her out.’

‘Leave me alone. I’m not going to the doctor.’

‘Shut up, Magdalene. Put your arm round my neck. Zillah, stay with Luke.’ He marched off, carrying me.

I can walk. Put me down.

Doors swished open, and we were inside a big room full of staring people. Abraham strode up to the desk. ‘Can somebody see my sister right away? She’s in shock and she’s shredded her hands.’

Next, I was lying on a bed in a room not much bigger than the discipline room. Abraham was frowning. Luke and Zillah were there too, even though Abraham was telling them to leave.

A nurse came in. She shooed the others out, helped me out of my wet skirt and wrapped a blanket around me. ‘Let’s see those hands, my love.’ very carefully, she uncurled my fingers.

I stared at them. ‘I don’t know what happened. Why are they bleeding?’

‘Never mind that now. Let me get all this sand off. Be brave, honey. It’s probably going to hurt a bit.’ She talked in a sing-song voice as she poured water over my hands to wash away the sand and blood. It
didn’t hurt much, although she kept telling me I was being brave. How did she think I’d behave?
Seemly and modest
. Didn’t she know girls had to be seemly and modest?

‘There we are, sweetheart. The doctor will have a look at you and then we’ll pop some bandages on.’

‘Please, I don’t want bandages. I can’t help Mother with bandages on.’

A man came in before she could answer. His name tag said
Dr Alex Masters
. ‘Hi there, Magdalene.’ He perched beside me on the bed and took my hands, turning them gently to look at my palms. His wedding ring felt smooth against my fingers. I wondered if he made his children learn psalms when they transgressed. He had a kind face even though he was frowning. ‘Hmm,’ he said, ‘you sure made a mess of your paws, little lady. You were at the beach?’

I nodded. ‘We went with Abraham.’

He moved to a chair and the nurse started to dress my hand and wrap it in a bandage. I tried to pull my hand away. ‘I can’t help Mother with bandages on.’

Doctor Alex said, ‘They’ll get better quicker this way, Magdalene. Tell me about the beach. Do you like it there?’

We weren’t supposed to talk to worldly people. But Elder Stephen said it was a sin to be sick. Did that mean it was all right to talk to a doctor? It was all too hard. ‘Yes. The beach is nice.’

He asked more questions. They were difficult because I couldn’t remember digging the hole, but my hands were stinging now and I’d seen the blood
so I must have done it. It was frightening not to remember.

‘It’s all right, Magdalene. Don’t fret about it. I’ve had a chat to Abraham. Is he your favourite brother?’

‘Him and Luke and …’ I couldn’t say Daniel’s name. ‘Both of them.’

‘Does anyone at home ever hurt you?’

I didn’t want to cry, but tears dripped down my face. ‘Yes.’

He picked up my hand and cradled it in his — the one with the wedding ring. ‘Show me where. See this doll? You point to where you get hurt.’

I couldn’t look at the doll. It had no clothes on. Instead, I put my hand on my own chest. ‘Here.’

‘They hurt your chest?’

I shook my head. ‘My heart. Father hurts my heart. He growls at Zillah and prays to the Lord to make her into a seemly and obedient child. But she’s not sinful — she’s not. And Abraham wants to learn about electronics for tractors but the Rule says it’s worldly education and Father won’t let him. I pray to the Lord but …’ I stopped. It was a wicked transgression to talk about the Children of the Faith to worldly people.

The doctor said nothing for a while, but I saw him exchange looks with the nurse. She asked the next question. ‘Does your Father smack you when you’re naughty?’

Why would she think that? ‘No! Of course not. He sends us to the discipline room for the day. We have to learn a psalm.’ I didn’t tell them about the bread and water.

‘Do you want to do things he won’t let you, Magdalene?’ Doctor Alex asked.

‘Yes, but I can’t. It’s against the Rule.’

He said, in his friendly voice, ‘Tell us one thing you’d like to do.’

So many things. ‘I’d like to worship the Lord with a joyful heart.’

He said nothing, so I shut my eyes. Perhaps they’d all go away and I’d be at home helping Mother when I woke up.

A hand stroked my forehead and Doctor Alex said, ‘Can you remember why you got upset today, Magdalene?’

That was easy. ‘I thought he would die.’

‘Who, honey?’

I looked at the nurse. ‘Abraham. Elder Stephen didn’t read his name out today and Abraham was angry. He was already angry because the Rule won’t let him learn about electronics.’ I took a breath. ‘He said it was too much and I thought he was going to go away and he’d be dead to us.’ I stopped, but the doctor said, ‘Go on.’

I sighed. ‘They all go away and then they’re dead. I don’t want Abraham to go away. I don’t want him to be dead to us.’

The nurse said, ‘Who else went away and died, Magdalene?’

‘Miriam did. Daniel and Rebecca. And Esther. They all ran away and now they’re all dead to us.’ I would be damned for ever for speaking of them, and for speaking of them to worldly people. Father
would pray for me, but it wouldn’t be any use. The Lord didn’t hear my prayers and He didn’t hear Father’s either.

The phone on the desk rang softly into the silence.

‘Damn,’ Doctor Alex said. ‘Hang on a second, Magdalene.’ He listened then said, ‘Show him in.’

It was Father, come to take me home.

He came in quietly and stood for a moment, looking at me.

‘I am sorry, Father.’

‘It has been a sorry day, daughter. Get dressed now. I will take you home.’ He set a folded skirt down on the bed and turned away.

The nurse twitched the curtain across the bed, then helped me into the skirt. Abraham must have gone home for it.

On the other side of the curtain, I heard Father ask, ‘Is my daughter ill?’

The doctor seemed to be picking his words carefully when he answered. ‘Not exactly. I believe she’s had a severe reaction to accumulated worry and stress. I gather she grieves for lost siblings?’

Instead of answering the question, Father just said, ‘Continue, if you please.’

There was a pause, then I heard the doctor say, ‘It is difficult to assess her without the information you clearly don’t intend to give me. However, you might like to think about the fact that your daughter doesn’t remember digging herself into a hole and building a wall around it.’