I am Rebecca (17 page)

ALL I DID FOR THE NEXT
three days was sleep, eat, shower and sleep some more. None of them minded. They cared for me and asked no questions.

I was awake enough at one stage to hear Miriam tell me she had clothes for me. ‘Just something to wear until we can go into town.’

I remembered the girls at the market in their fairy dresses. I remembered too Rachel’s choice of a bikini top and shorts when we’d played our secret game at the market. I didn’t care what clothes Miriam had for me, so long as there was no plain white wedding dress.

On Wednesday I woke early in the evening, got up, showered, washed my hair, plaited it into a braid, then picked up the clothes that Miriam had laid out for me. An ankle-length skirt, long-sleeved tee-shirt and lacy underwear — probably my sister’s own.

I got dressed, praying — hoping — I wasn’t taking more steps along the path to damnation.
What was true? My mind wasn’t any clearer about what to believe.

I hesitated in my doorway. I couldn’t show myself to others dressed as I was.

Yes. I could. I must. I was worldly now and these clothes were very modest by worldly standards.

Before I lost courage I found my way to the rest of the family.

‘Ah, you’re awake,’ Aunt Nina said. ‘Excellent. You’re just in time for dinner.’

There were only five of us — me, my brother and sister, my uncle and aunt.

Miriam noticed me looking around and said, ‘You’ll see Kirby often, Rebecca. She and her mum live quite close to us.’

I’d have to get used to calling her Kirby, although I suspected she’d always be Esther in my heart.

During the meal they let me be quiet while they chatted about the events of the day. To them, it all seemed normal, this talk of ordinary, everyday happenings. Even my brother and sister could have no idea of how my mind was stretching, just trying to make sense of words such as
lecture, lab session, assignment, deadline
.

But Daniel seemed to be aware of the question I’d wanted answered from the moment he’d been cast out, because he said, ‘Studying medicine was the right choice for me, little sister. It was hard to leave but it was the right thing to do.’

Yes. He was different now. He no longer gave the
impression of using huge effort to hold the pieces of himself together.

‘Damaris has a son,’ I said. Stupid to tell him that. He wouldn’t want to be reminded of her — he’d been expelled for refusing to marry her.

He surprised me. ‘Did she marry Gideon? He’s much more suitable for her than I was. I hope she’ll have a good life.’

Miriam put a plate of fresh fruit salad and ice cream in front of me. ‘Eat that, Rebecca. It’s good, and you need fattening up.’

I obeyed. I wasn’t ready to ask her if she regretted choosing art over her family. But she too knew the turmoil in my head. ‘Sometimes you don’t have a choice. You can’t fit yourself into the box for a moment longer. If only they’d let me draw, if I could have painted, I’d still be there.’

‘And married to Jairus,’ Daniel said.

My spoon fell with a clatter. ‘
Jairus
?
You were to marry him?’

She pulled a face. ‘He’d asked Father for me. He was devout, godly, a good worker …’

‘And totally brainless,’ Daniel said.

‘He married a girl from Nelson. They’ve got a couple of little ones now.’ I’d looked after both the children in the nursery.

Miriam swished the memory away with a wave of her hand. ‘I wish them well. My life’s exciting now. I’m at design school. It challenges my mind. I love it.’

They told me Kirby had finished her first year at uni. ‘But she’s taking a gap year next year. She’s going to teach English in Japan.’

My head began to ache. So much new information. So many new ideas. All three of them — Daniel, Miriam and Esther — were doing what they themselves wanted, not what the Lord wanted.

Uncle Jim said, ‘Try not to worry, Rebecca. You’ll be okay. Don’t try to hurry the process.’ His quiet voice was like an anchor in the storm.

Aunt Nina said, ‘They’ve all been where you are now, my dear. All three of them. Kirby’s mother has too. Getting used to living in the world will happen if you give yourself time. Even Kirby found it hard to get used to ordinary life again.’

I stared at her. ‘But she was only with us for a few weeks. Not even two months.’

My aunt smiled. ‘Exactly. So be kind to yourself. We’ll find you somebody to talk to when you’re ready. But now, you look to me as if you need to go back to bed.’

I was happy to obey, though I had no idea what she meant about finding somebody for me to talk to. I knew that if I asked her, she’d tell me, but right then my mind couldn’t handle any more information. Somewhere, deep down, there must be a kernel of joy in knowing people would now answer my questions. I prayed, or rather hoped, I’d one day find it.

THE DAYS PASSED
. I told them all what had happened, why I’d run away. I cried whenever I thought of my family, of how they must be suffering.

I found I couldn’t ask the questions plaguing me. It was as if they were locked inside and I deserved the torment of never having them answered.

A week went by. By the second week I no longer slept all day, but I couldn’t bring myself to leave the house. Even the thought of sitting in a worldly church with them when they went to worship filled me with terror.

It was on that second Sunday that Aunt Nina said, ‘I think it’s time for you to talk to a counsellor, Rebecca. Ellen and Kirby will take you there tomorrow.’

I didn’t argue, didn’t ask questions. Shameful as it was, I was grateful to be told what to do with my life again. ‘Yes, Aunt Nina. Thank you.’

She put her hand over mine. ‘Call us Nina and Jim. The others do. You’ll get used to it.’

THE CLOTHES MIRIAM GAVE ME
to put on that day would have meant instant expulsion from the Children of the Faith. My sister knew how big a step it was for me to wear them. ‘Sorry sweets, but they’re the plainest I’ve got.’

I pulled on the black stockings, the short denim skirt and the black jumper. She zipped me into a pair of knee-high boots and grinned at me.

‘Think of the Elders having fifty fits if you turned up in front of them dressed like this. They’re control freaks, the whole lot of them. You so did the right thing to run.’

It felt wicked to even listen to such words.

A long mirror was fixed to the back of the wardrobe door. There was only one way to do this — quickly. As soon as Miriam had gone, I hauled the door open. There I was. And the only familiar part of me was my hair in its godly braid.

The face was a shock. It was Rachel who gazed back at me — but my sister would never wear such clothing. It had to be me. I was so used to seeing her face, though, it was hard to believe the girl in the mirror who looked like her was actually me.

Esther — Kirby — and her mother came for me while I was still trying to juggle the two images, to fit them into my new existence. ‘You’re doing fine,’ Ellen said. ‘It all takes time. Try not to worry.’

Esther waved me into the front seat of the car. ‘Hey, Rebecca, the leader you were meant to marry — was it old Misery-guts from Wanganui?’

‘No. We got a new leader when we moved to Nelson. He was old, too. Seventy-six.’

‘Jeez,’ Esther said.

THE
COUNSELLOR WAS A MAN.
I’d assumed it would be a woman. I hadn’t asked. ‘Call me Edwin,’ he said. ‘I know your story, Rebecca. You’ve had a tough time.’

I stared at him. Why was I here then? He was a counsellor — I’d imagined I’d tell him what had happened to me, he would tell me to give myself time, I would agree. It would all be over.

He saw my bewilderment. ‘Don’t look so worried. We’ll begin with the easy stuff.’

There was easy stuff? I still didn’t ask.

He leaned his elbows on his desk, chin on hands. ‘Tell me — if Malachi walked through that door right now, fell on his knees and begged you to marry him, would you say yes?’

I started to say, ‘Yes, of course I would,’ but the words didn’t reach my tongue. I sat back in my chair, needing something solid at my back. Did I still want to marry Malachi? I glanced at Edwin. He looked completely at ease; he looked, too, as if he’d wait until doomsday for my answer.

‘May I speak the truth?’ What a stupid question. How would he know if what I said was truth or lies?

He grinned at me. ‘Give it a go. See how it feels.’

I’d never met anyone like him before. He was a man. In my experience, men always wanted to tell me what to do.

‘Okay.’ I paused, wondering how to put into words the truth of what I felt. ‘When we lived by the Rule, he’d have been a good husband. Not too
strict, and he’d have cared for me and our children. But I don’t know what he’d be like with no Rule to guide him.’ I stopped to think, to imagine. ‘No,’ I said at last. ‘I wouldn’t marry him. Neither of us knows how to live in the world. Not now. Not without the Rule to guide us.’

Edwin gave me a grin and a thumbs-up. ‘Well done. There’s a good brain in that skull of yours, young lady.’

And that was a good thing? Men didn’t expect women to use their brains. We didn’t need to. We just had to obey the Rule, obey our husbands or fathers, and nurture our children. I put my hands up to my head, pressing to hold it together. This was a different world.

‘Here’s another question for you,’ Edwin said. ‘What do you want for your life? Is it still marriage and a dozen or so children?’

He had such an easy, friendly way about him. I didn’t think he’d judge me. He wouldn’t be disappointed if I didn’t give him the answer he wanted.

I checked, just to make sure. ‘Is there a right answer? Easy questions always have a right and a wrong answer.’

He shouted with laughter. ‘You’ve caught me out!’ he said. ‘Well done again. You’re the only one who can know if you give the right answer. The right answer for you will probably be the very wrong answer for somebody else.’

‘Rachel. My twin. I know what she wants. But I don’t know what I want. I used to. Before Malachi left, I knew what I wanted. Not now. Not any more.’ Now I was only a hollow, empty shell. ‘I don’t even know what’s right and what’s wrong. I don’t know what to believe.’

‘Are you wanting me to tell you?’ he asked in his gentle voice.

I sat up in a hurry. ‘No! I don’t want anyone to tell me. I’m sick of being told what to think. I want to find out for myself. But I don’t know how.’ I sagged back in the chair. ‘I just don’t know how.’

‘Good girl. You’re going to be fine. Start with the little things. Find out about the little things first. Work your way up to the big ones.’

He stood up. The session was ending.

Very well, I would do as he said. ‘I want a book to write in. Just an ordinary school notebook. And coloured pens.’

KIRBY AND ELLEN STOPPED
at a huge shop to buy me an exercise book, pens and clothes.

‘Not trousers,’ I said, hanging back in the car. ‘Not yet. Please.’

Kirby said, ‘Okay. Just very bright, very short skirts. Sleeveless tops and shoes with five-inch heels.’

‘Esther!’ I wailed — and she ran off laughing.

They came back after half an hour and tumbled a heap of plastic bags into my lap. I didn’t want to look at the clothes, but the pens enchanted me. They’d bought me black, blue, red, green and silver ones.

‘Thank you. Thank you so much. For everything.’

Kirby turned around in her seat and grinned at me. ‘Even the clothes?’

‘Only if you bought me shorts and a bikini top,’ I retorted, delighted when she shouted with laughter.

That night I sat up in bed and wrote my questions in the book.

Will I go to the torment of eternal damnation when I die?

Some days, I was certain hell awaited me. Those were days when I missed Rachel and the others so badly I ached.

But the day after my second session with Edwin I found myself writing:

Will the Children of the Faith be the only ones out of the whole world to go to heaven?

It comforted me to know my family would go to heaven, but I woke at midnight and with the red pen wrote:

If it’s true, hell will be rather crowded.

Malachi would be there with me, burning away. Kezia too. Mara also, but that wasn’t right or fair — she didn’t deserve to suffer torment.

At three in the morning, I took the silver pen:

I don’t think it can be true.

I showed Edwin on my next visit. ‘Hmm, good points. So what do you think can’t be true, Rebecca?’

Did I dare say it? Oh, why not? If hell was real, I’d be burning bright the second my soul left my body. What did one more sin matter?

‘I don’t think hell and damnation are real. Are they, Edwin? Please tell me, I really need to know.’

‘Come on, Rebecca. You can do better than this! Think about it — how can I, or anyone else on the face of the Earth, tell you what happens after we die?’

THE
SESSIONS CONTINUED
until Christmas. Edwin said, ‘I’ll be away till mid-January. Don’t freak out, kid. You’re doing great. In the break, think about what you want to do with your life. Dig down deep. Be true to yourself.’

‘Easy for you to say,’ I told him. ‘I don’t think I’ve got a self any more.’

He laughed at me. ‘Want to bet?’

‘A bet? You’re asking me to gamble?’

He grinned. ‘I’m betting you’ll find a good tough self if you dig hard enough. If I’m right, you get a chocolate-dipped ice cream.’

‘And if you’re wrong?’

‘Ah! I won’t be wrong. Merry Christmas, Rebecca Pilgrim. Go forth and have fun.’

I went out into the street to wait for the bus. Kirby had taught me how to use it, and how to get around the city by myself. I liked being out among the people — in a way, it was like being back at the market, except that here the people dressed more formally and I didn’t see any alpacas, or dogs with dreads. This city was windy, though, and I got tired of my braid getting blown around. Maybe one day I’d be ready to cut my hair. Miriam’s was short compared with mine. It still came past her shoulders and she often wore it tied back.

The bus route took me past a church. It was smaller than the temple in Nelson but more attractive with its wooden walls and small spire. I hit the bell, got off at the next stop, and walked back to the church.
But I was frightened of going in. Worldly churches were evil and the god their leaders preached about was false.

Use your brain, Rebecca.

But my brain didn’t know what to think. I stopped walking, closed my eyes, and made a huge effort to cast Elder Stephen and the Rule out of my mind. It didn’t work. So, instead, I found myself cupping my hands and imagining the Rule crushed into a small bundle. I carried it forward, stepped through the church door and dropped it on the floor.

I felt stupid but nobody else was around.

This church had wooden pews, not the chairs I was used to in the temple. They weren’t comfortable but I sat on one halfway towards the front. I didn’t try to pray or even to think. For now, it was just enough to be there. If the Lord smote me on the way home, so be it — at least then I’d know Elder Stephen and the Rule were right.

CHRISTMAS IN THE WORLD
was so different from what I’d been used to. Jim woke us all up in the morning by galloping round the house singing a song I remembered from school in Wanganui — ‘Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer’. Then he sang, ‘Get up, family! It’s Christmas!’

When we emerged from our rooms, we discovered he was wearing reindeer antlers on his head.

‘Dare you to wear them to church,’ Miriam said — and laughed at my horrified face.

Jim patted my hand. ‘If you come with us, Rebecca, I won’t wear them. I’ll behave properly.’

Nina said, ‘Please come, Rebecca! I know it’s blackmail but I truly don’t want to be seen with a reindeer.’

I didn’t want to go, but I did want to. I missed worship, I missed the presence of the Lord in my life almost as badly as I missed Rachel and my family. ‘Okay. Yes, I’ll come.’

They were pleased, not that they made a big thing of it. We had breakfast, then hurried to get ready in time.

I chose a plain dark-blue skirt, black stockings and a long-sleeved blouse. I tied a scarf over my hair. Miriam pulled it off.

‘D’you really think the Lord will strike you dead if you go bare-headed?’

‘Go easy on her, Miriam,’ Daniel said.

Miriam stamped her foot. ‘It’s all just so
unnecessary
. Those old men, they get off on controlling people, especially women.’

He laughed at her. ‘You’ve been spending too much time with Kirby.’

That made her laugh too. ‘Sorry, Rebecca.’ Then she sighed. ‘I just wish …’

Yes. All of us wished the Faith hadn’t split our family apart.

We arrived at the church a few minutes early.
People were cheerful, smiling at the family and greeting them by name. Miriam introduced me to a hundred of them. The names washed through my mind, snagging on my surprise at the way many of them were dressed. There were girls in skimpy dresses that showed the flesh of their shoulders and arms. Women wore trousers — some of them brightly coloured. Not one of them covered her hair.

I was glad when the service started, but the shocks kept coming. The preacher was a woman. She was cheerful too, and she spoke of a loving god. During the whole hour she didn’t utter one threat of eternal damnation. There was no hint of disappointment from her or anyone else who spoke. The readings from the Bible were weirdly familiar but slightly wrong and I couldn’t work out why.

As we stood to sing a Christmas carol, Daniel whispered, ‘Stop frowning, Rebecca. You’re not losing your mind. It’s a modern version of the Bible. Easier to understand but not nearly so poetic.’

I stumbled out into the day feeling bludgeoned in my head and heart and soul. Again the questions plagued me — what to believe? What was true?

Daniel took my arm. ‘It’ll get better, little sister.’

He drove us home to where Ellen and Kirby were preparing a meal, and where there were presents to open.

Nina raised her wine glass. ‘To Rebecca, who is learning to live in the world.’

Jim said, ‘It’s great to have you with us — all three
of you. It’d be a miserable time for us otherwise.’ Their own three children were all far away. One was in New York, one in Canada and the other was travelling through India.

Early in the new year, Kirby would be going to Japan. And I had just learnt how to catch a bus.
Small things, Rebecca. One step at a time.

‘Presents!’ Kirby said. She sat on the floor by the tree, handing them out. She threw one to me. ‘Catch, Rebecca.’

That made me cry, because I missed my family whose day would be so different from this one. I’d never been given a present before and I hadn’t thought to give gifts to the others.

Jim gave me a hug. ‘Open it.’

I did so — and laughed. It was a packet of handkerchiefs, brightly coloured and patterned. I dried my tears with the tartan one.

There were more presents — felt-tipped pens from Miriam, a book about science from Daniel, two novels from Kirby and Ellen, and a swimsuit from Nina and Jim.

I held it up and gasped. It was indecent. I loved it. ‘Thank you! I’ll wear it — I’ll swim in the sea and I’ll imagine Elder Stephen’s face if he saw me.’

‘Atta girl,’ Ellen said. She raised her glass again. ‘To absent friends and family, especially Rory.’

Who was Rory? I didn’t like to ask, even though I knew I could. It was harder than I’d ever dreamed to break the rules of a lifetime.

But Ellen was watching me. ‘You can ask, Rebecca.’

I shook my head. ‘It’s okay. I don’t need to know.’

Daniel said, ‘Maybe not, but you do need to practise asking for knowledge.’ He smiled at me, my once so-serious brother. ‘Go for it, little sister. You can do it.’

They were all smiling at me, all encouraging me. Yes, I could do this. ‘Ellen, please will you tell me who Rory is?’

She cheered, and the others clapped. But her story was nothing to cheer about. ‘I was thrown out of the Faith on my sixteenth birthday because my father discovered I was pregnant. I’d been raped regularly for two months by an Elder who ordered me to submit to him. I didn’t even know what was happening. Rory is the child of that pregnancy. I had him adopted out.’

Kirby took up the story. ‘That’s why she sent me to live with you guys. She freaked out when Rory contacted her, and she ended up in a psych ward with severe depression. That’s why I couldn’t find her.’

We were all quiet. It was hard for me to believe an Elder could transgress so sinfully, but I did believe it. I heard the truth of it in her voice, and in Kirby’s.

At last, I said, ‘Thank you for telling me.’ I didn’t say any more, didn’t ask the question battering at my mind.

Kirby tilted her head. She looked at Miriam, who pulled her mouth down and nodded. My cousin said, ‘You don’t know what rape means, do you?’

My sister said, ‘They still aren’t telling girls
the secrets of the marriage bed
, are they?’

I let out a breath. ‘No, I don’t know what it means. And no, they’re still not telling us a single damned thing!’

They shrieked, all of them, even Ellen. Miriam gasped and said, ‘Progress! I bet that’s the first time in your life you’ve said a bad word.’

I was astonished at myself. ‘Yes. It felt good, too. Now I know why people swear.’

They laughed again. My sister went out of the room and came back with drawing paper and pens. ‘The facts of life, with illustrations coming up, Rebecca. Pin your ears back.’

The adults got to their feet. ‘Christmas dinner will be ready when you’ve finished.’

‘Wimps,’ Kirby said.

‘Guilty as charged,’ Jim said. They scurried from the room.

Miriam drew pictures of naked men and women. She explained, with help from Kirby and Daniel, exactly what the secret of the marriage bed was. Rachel and I had been right — it was all about the differences between males and females.

I stared at the drawings, trying to shut out thoughts of Elder Stephen. But I couldn’t shut out the reason he’d been so determined to keep me ignorant — what 16-year-old girl would willingly do that with an old man she feared and disliked?

He must have suspected I would run. How ironic
that I’d have married him if he hadn’t sent Elder Hosea to guard me.

Nina called us to a table laden with food. They talked as they ate, but I was quiet, my mind somewhere different.

‘Rebecca? You okay?’ Kirby asked.

‘I know what I want to do next year. I want to go to school. I want to go to a proper school and have proper lessons.’

The whole family clapped and cheered.

I turned to Kirby, but called her by her Faith name. ‘Esther, will you cut off my plait for me?’

It seemed the others all knew the story of how she’d hacked off her own hair in protest when she’d been sent to live with our family, because they nodded, and Ellen said, ‘Appropriate.’