Morning Star (25 page)

“Mind telling me why?”

“Suddenly you nearly make it seem silly to believe—but Tom, I had to have something. Nothing works. I've tried to be a good Mormon, even reading the Bible like Mark does. The only thing I regret is throwing the talisman away.”

“Talisman? What are you talking about?”

“I've had a talisman, like Joseph's. I bought it from Clara years ago. Well, in a tight spot I was thinking the power was working against me and I took it out and threw it in the river. Now I'd give anything to have it back.”

The tears were starting up again and with a sigh of exasperation, Tom said, “Aw, Jen, I can't understand through the bawlin'. Lay off. Tell me why you want it back.”

She was shaking her head and dabbing at her eyes. “No, Tom, you don't believe, and you'd just make fun of me.”

He settled back on his heels beside the chair and said, “Got anyone else you can tell it to?” She shook her head and he continued, “Well, it seems to me you're going to spend the rest of your life a bawlin' unless you tell someone.” Jenny was crying again. Tom waited. “Okay, let's hear it.”

“Tom, I didn't realize it or I'd never have pitched the talisman. See, I had the talisman when Mark and I got married. I just didn't realize it was the power that was making him love me. Now that I've pitched it, there's nothing. He looks at me like he doesn't even see me. We used to talk so much—even when we were disagreeing there was something there. Now it's nothing. Tom, I'm so miserable I could die.”

Tom was silent, chewing his lip thoughtfully. “I can't believe a little old medal could have that much power.”

“I do. There's no doubt about it. Even I feel different about—” She paused and gulped, adding, “well, things.”

“Could be he's just taking the responsibilities of bein' a pa pretty serious. I know he's kinda worried about you. Thinks you're looking puny. Would you want me to talk to him?”

“No! Tom, of course not. I told you only because you pushed at me. Please, don't say anything about this. Now I've got to get the smoke out of the house before he comes home.”

“I'd pull a rug over that burned spot fer now.” Tom headed for the door and then turned. “The mirror?”

“Oh.” Jenny stared at her hands.

A strange expression filled his eyes, nearly like fear. “Something to do with the charms, huh? I've heard of spirits manifesting through mirrors. Jen, are you bitin' off more'n you can handle? Seems religion's safer.”

Jenny was still sitting at the table long after Tom left. The afternoon was nearly over and soon Mark would be coming home. For a moment she felt her heart leap and then she contemplated the emotion. Perhaps it did help to talk to Tom.

She pushed herself out of the chair and went to find potatoes and carrots and onions. The pan was still full of the charred herbs and she began to scrub it clean. She shook her head and shuddered, “Land, what a start Tom gave me!”

Soberly she thought of those words, “Seems I said what I was denying all along. I have to admit, those words I was reading in the Bible just yesterday were speaking to me.” She paused to consider, wondering why it took fear to strip away everything except the real need. Would she be able to follow after what was necessary?

Washing her hands, she went into the parlor and picked up the Bible. She sat in the rocking chair and turned to Isaiah, saying, “Seems I have to deal with the verses catching my attention first. This Isaiah 8:19 is talking about people seeking familiar spirits. That's me. I finally realized it when Adela just disappeared. What about her saying we could worship any way we pleased, 'cause there's only one god. Seems God doesn't like it, because He's saying in seeking God, if they don't speak according to God's Word, then there's no light in them.” Silently she reread the words and had to admit that the truth was there.

Finding the other section in Isaiah 47:12, she read aloud, “‘Stand now with thine enchantments, and with the multitude of thy sorceries, wherein thou hast laboured from thy youth; if so be thou shalt be able to profit, if so be thou mayest prevail. . . . Let now the astrologers, the stargazers, the monthly prognosticators, stand up, and save thee from these things that shall come upon thee.”

Slowly she closed the Book. “Jenny, it's saying right here, first, God doesn't like people seeking out the spirits.” She was shivering now as she whispered, “I must admit, the spirits never helped a mite. I can't stand with them. Never has the green book led me to anything good. When this baby comes, the charms and herbs'll do me no good.”

For a time she sat in silence while her thoughts drifted, searching for a sureness to believe in. “Funny how the words just popped out of me,” she mused, recalling the day in the forest. “All those years, I never realized once that Adela was a familiar spirit.” She shivered with awe. “I just said ‘in the name of Jesus.' Adela couldn't stand against the Name, and she just disappeared like smoke.”

Slowly Jenny closed her Bible and stood up. She needed to do something. Thinking a moment, she clasped the Bible to her bosom and looked up. “I renounce the way of the spirits. Because I'm fearing them—no, God, I fear what You'll do to me if I don't. I'm going to read my Bible and become a good Christian like Mark and Joseph Smith.”

Chapter 24

Mark stared out the window of the municipal building, watching the water drip off the roof. Carriages sloshed down the main street of Nauvoo, flinging arcs of dirty slush into the air.

It was late February and the afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the city council chamber. As attorney, Mark had been asked to sit in on the council meeting which would begin just as soon as Joseph arrived.

Mark moved his shoulders restlessly and stretched his shirt collar. Pratt was watching him with amusement.

Joseph hurried into the room with a sharp salute and Hyde called, “General Smith!” With a friendly smile, Joseph bowed. Still impatient with waiting, Mark scowled. He could see only Joseph's arrogance and the lateness of the hour. He met the Prophet's smile with a frown.

Without ceremony, Joseph plunged into his prepared speech. “These are great days, my brethren. I feel the power of God upon me. The purposes of the Almighty shall prevail. I intend to see they happen. I am a man empowered by the great Jehovah, and this influence is not to be taken lightly. With the children of God the power does more with a handful than a million men could do without the power.”

“Hear ye, hear ye!” shouted Kimball. Mark was gloomy as he listened to the upbeat tenor of the laughter greeting Kimball.

Jospeh was into the heart of his message. “Do you see Nauvoo correctly? We are a state within a state. Soon we shall petition Congress for that recognition. The Nauvoo Charter, which passed the Illinois Legislature unanimously, signifies our relationship. We are to the union the same as a state.”

He paused and leaned forward, saying in deliberately paced words, “You brethren know as well as I do that the laws of the state of Illinois are unconstitutional. We would be a pack of fools to keep such laws as our own.”

“Prophet, General,” came a voice from the back of the room. “I would like to remind the brethren that the charter provides that should any man come into the city with a writ for your arrest, we shall arrest him and try him. If he's found guilty of pushing the old Missouri offenses, he can be sentenced to life imprisonment.”

Amid the uproar, Clayton added, “And he can be pardoned by the governor of the state only under the consent of the mayor of Nauvoo himself, which is the prophet Joseph.”

Mark was back in his office when Joseph came in. With effort, Mark attempted to control himself as the Prophet entered the room. As he looked at Joseph he was still thinking of Clayton's statement and wondering how many of the men of Nauvoo agreed with him.

“What's on your mind?” Joseph asked, flopping into Mark's chair.

“I was thinking of your slave Abel.”

“He isn't a slave; he's a free man.”

“Free when he dumps his money in your lap and is happy with shining your shoes and being your valet?”

“That was his idea. Any suggestions?”

“It isn't just Abel,” Mark admitted. “Nearly every man close to you has this same shoe-licking air about him. I come near boiling every time I see their blind adoration. Joseph, it isn't normal.”

“You speak like a man who's never had a friend to love him. I'm able to accept the love.”

“Accept? The smiles and pats, yes—but what about those who disagree with you? Why can't you allow criticism without labeling them dissenters and chasing them out?”

“Have anyone in mind?”

“Last week, during the priesthood meeting I was listening to you lay on us all the new teachings. Joseph, you know as well as I those teachings are completely contrary to the Holy Bible, contrary to all we've been taught through our growing-up years. Yet those men sat there and took it. I was thinking, too, of David Whitmer.

“You remember I mentioned having a talk with him in Springfield. One of the things that struck me so forcefully was his statement that some of the men are so blinded to reason that they believe anything you say. I'm beginning to think that's right.”

“Mark, I'm called of God. I have the keys to the kingdom. Need I keep reminding you of the fact?”

“And the fact that the revelations you've given are the very words of Jesus Christ? Whitmer says you made changes in the
Book of Commandments
which ended up supporting you as a seer in the church. The same changes also to support the idea of the priesthood in the church. He charged you with departing from the teachings of Jesus Christ revealed in the
Book of Mormon
when you made these changes. If the Book is from God and is Scripture, how do you respond to his claim?”

Joseph got to his feet. “The reason I came in here, Mark, is because I don't like your arrogance. I came near to flogging you in city council meeting just to wipe the sneer off your face. I think the spirit of Satan is in your heart, and you'd better be getting it out. There're not many around here who can take such an attitude.”

Joseph continued. “Funny you should be talking about men who displayed the same spirit. Better learn from them. They're out. They and their families have lost their estate in the hereafter. Mark, take the warning to heart.”

Mark was still seething when he left the office and went to the livery stable to get his horse. It hadn't helped to have Clayton's counsel after Joseph left the room.

Joseph's secretary said, “I tremble with fear for you, Mark. You know Joseph has the keys of the kingdom. There's not a one of us who will make it in the hereafter without the Prophet meeting us and taking us in to be with him for eternity. If he says the word, there's damnation waiting for us.”

As Mark prepared to mount his horse, Tom's staying hand gripped the bridle. “Something the matter?”

“Just irritated at Joseph.”

“I rode out to see Jen. Mark, you know she's a bit teary right now.”

Mark frowned. “Seems natural in her condition.”

“I'm not an authority, but I'm guessing she's feeling as big as she looked in that red outfit. Might be just a hug or pat would let her know you still love her.” Tom turned away.

Mark's black thoughts kept him company until he had nearly reached home. The first timid hints of spring were becoming evident. The snow had melted from the roadway and the water gurgled through ditches. Spikes of green tipped the branches of trees and bushes. He heard the burst of song from the robins, saw crocuses in the snow.

On the last stretch of road, he reined in the mare and let her browse as he tried to collect his thoughts and shake his dismal mood.

He regarded his commitment and scowled. What high hopes he had felt, what tide of need he had seen that day in Far West when he'd whispered, “Yes, Lord.” He recalled thinking brave thoughts of bringing all the Mormons to an understanding of truth and a joyful acceptance of the way of Jesus Christ.

Now he slumped in his saddle. What had the dedication merited? Nothing except—Mark winced and as the pain grew inside of him, he began to face the fact he had been ignoring since December. The teaching at last week's priesthood meeting had linked together the gossip and innuendos. Could he admit it and carry on?

The mare grazed her way down the road and turned into the lane. When she stopped beside the barn, Mark was able to admit he had a problem. He pulled the saddle from the horse and carried it into the barn. “How do you say ‘yes, Lord' when it means giving up your wife to Joseph's embraces and raising his son as your own?”

Mark was still sitting on the edge of the manger when the last of the sunlight touched the apple tree and disappeared. When he shivered with cold, he realized nothing had been resolved.

With a sigh, he headed for the house, muttering to himself, “One thing's certain. My lousy attitude has got to go. Didn't realize Jen was suffering the backwash.” He winced and pressed his lips together. “Never will I deny her anything she wishes, even if it's that monster.”

Jenny, wrapped in the red flannel robe, was huddled in the rocking chair beside the kitchen stove. She lifted her face as Mark walked in the door, “Oh,” she whispered, “I didn't know you were home.”

He saw her swollen face, the pile of newspapers and books on her lap as she attempted to get to her feet. “Jenny, is there something wrong?” The dread nearly held him motionless.

“No,” she sighed. “Just lazy, I guess. I was trying to read and dropped off.” Her brooding eyes watched as he took the books from her and carried them to the shelf.

As she removed the robe and folded it, he said, “I wondered if you were going to wear it. Is it warm?” She nodded. He forced the words, just then realizing how seldom he had mentioned the baby. “You'll be needing it soon. I understand new mothers spend lots of nights walking the floor with their babies.” He saw the corners of her mouth lift as she went to the stove.