by Charity B.
“Aren’t you such a good girl? I wish I could get my Lana to be so eager to do her studies!”
Guilt crushes my lungs. I smile and stand there for as long as seems polite before I turn to run up the wooden steps leading to our white farmhouse. I stay quiet as I open the screen door and push against the wooden one. Poking my head inside, I check to see if anyone is in the kitchen.
Darn it! My brothers, Robert and Samuel, are drinking milk at the table. I try to look behind me, pulling my dress out to see if I can spot any blood. There is none from what I can tell. Sliding inside, I grab an apple from the bowl while Robert raises his eyebrows at me.
“Sister Mary was looking for you.”
I attempt to hide my irritation by taking a bite of the apple, but his chuckle tells me I didn’t succeed. I’m not the only one she drives crazy.
“All right, I’ll go find her, just don’t tell her I’m home yet if you see her first.”
Sam grins at me and signs, Why? Where have you been? I bet Robert and Doyle tomorrow morning’s chores that you were with Zebadiah Fitch.
Samuel is mute. He has never spoken a single word. I don’t know why because he can hear fine. Doc Kilmer has no explanation for it, and Zaaron hasn’t felt it necessary to inform the Prophet.
I roll my eyes at him. “So? What if I was? He’s my friend.”
Robert groans, “Ah, man! You know it’s not right, you spending that much time with a boy. Your friends should be girls. Now I have to get up extra early tomorrow.”
He is my elder brother, and I know I must respect him. Regardless, my friends can be whoever I choose them to be.
I am about to tell him as much when Sam signs to me, obviously proud of himself. He’s just mad because now he has to clean the stables again.
I love that he never ceases to make me smile, even when I’m feeling as anxious as I am right now.
“Zaaron never said it was a sin to be friends with a boy as long as our thoughts and actions remain pure. And they have” —for the most part— “so I don’t feel sorry for you because do you know what is a sin? Gambling.”
I take another bite of my apple before spinning on my heel to push open the kitchen door and march out when Robert adds, “Mother told me to tell you that your dress for the soul cleansing is in her bedroom.”
“Thank you,” I snap at him. It’s none of his business who I am friends with. He is not my Prophet, my husband, or my father.
Walking past the living room and down the right hall, I head to the bedroom I share with Mia. There are twenty-four of us and only fifteen rooms, requiring us all to share besides my mothers.
I breathe a relieved sigh to find my room empty, the sound of the children playing outside floating through the open window. I walk across the wooden floor to look out the space between the billowing curtains. Sister Esther pushes little Phillip on the rope swing, while she bounces baby Paul on her hip. She seems much older than her fourteen years, and her maturity must be attractive to my father because he spends a large amount of nights with her. I smile as I finish my apple. I’m pleased Zaaron wanted her in my family. She was always nice to me at school and has been even kinder since becoming my fifth mother. Not to mention, she’s great with the small children, which is also a blessing, because Sister Mary seems to always be yelling when she watches them.
I need to get changed before it’s time to start making dinner and I run into anyone else. I throw my apple core in the wastebasket as I take a clean dress and petticoat from the closet. Opening my drawers, I remove a fresh pair of bloomers. I realize I don’t know what I should use to stop the blood, so I pick out the thickest pair of stockings I have.
I hurry down the hall, luck allowing me to slide into the washroom unseen. As soon as I close the door, I fall against it and breathe. I made it.
We aren’t allowed to lock doors though no one will bother me with it closed. The dress still doesn’t have blood on it which leaves Zebadiah’s socks to get rid of. I pump the handle up and down, retrieving just enough water to clean myself before I tie the first stocking around my waist. Taking the toilet paper, I wrap it around the second stocking many times. This is being wasteful—another sin. Once I feel I have enough to protect me, I fasten the stocking to the first one, like I did with Zeb’s socks.
One day, I will beg Zaaron’s forgiveness, and I promise I’ll tell the Prophet what I did, but I’m not prepared to be bound. I want to stay with my family, keep going to school, and continue having fun with Zebadiah. I don’t want to have a baby yet. I’ve seen a ton of babies being born, and each time it’s a little different besides one thing: the pain. It looks to me like it hurts something awful. Really, how could it not? Imagine trying to push a pea through the eye of a needle.
I secure my clean dress over my fresh petticoat and look at Zeb’s bloody socks. What to do… Hmm… I could hide them in my room and try to scrub out the stain the next time it’s my turn to do the washing. However, if I can’t get the stain out, I will be in the same position I am now. I could hide them under my dress and take them to the waste site tomorrow before school…
Yes. That’s what I’ll do. Once they are there, even if someone finds them, they won’t know who they belong to.
I add some water to the bottom of my shoes, turning the dirt into mud, and wipe them on my other dress. Wrapping it around the bloodied socks to conceal them, I rush back into the hall, and just as I am about to be safe inside my room, I hear Sister Mary’s cringe-inducing, high pitched voice.
“Laurel Ann, I’ve been looking for you.”
I blow the air out of my nose and plaster on a respectful smile before turning to her. “Hello, Sister Mary. How are you feeling?” If it’s anything like the way she looks, then I’m guessing she feels about to fall over.
“I would be a lot better if you would get Bridget’s spit up out of my dresses. The washing was one of your chores this morning.”
I refrain from huffing. I scrubbed the heck out of those stains. “Yes, ma’am, I apologize. I will pay more attention from now on.”
She squints as she looks at my hands. “Isn’t that the dress you had on this morning? Why are you wearing two dresses in the same day?”
Pleased with myself for thinking of it, I show her the mud stain from my shoe. “I tripped and got it muddy.”
Lies beget lies.
I swallow as her attention is swept back to herself and she fans her face. “If you continue to be careless, then you can count on double washing duty.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She turns on her heel and wobbles down the hall. I just want to get these socks hidden. Tomorrow cannot come fast enough.
I open my bedroom door, almost crying when I see Mia sitting on her bed reading The True Testament.
“Hey, Mia. You were really good in class today.”
Her face brightens every time I compliment her. It almost makes me feel guilty for having an ulterior motive for it today.
“Thank you. I’ve been studying really hard.”
“I know you have. I’m proud of you.”
I try to be casual as I set the bundle of clothes on the bed and look in the closet for somewhere to conceal Zeb’s socks.
“What are you looking for?”
“Um…a box or something.”
She holds up her pointer finger, jumping on her knees, before she flips over the edge of her bed to look under it. “I might have something.”
Rustling and clanging noises come from where she searches, and it sounds like a pig sty down there. It’s not my problem. My responsibility is my side of the room.
“Here. Kelsey Garret, Serah Johnson, and I use this to carry the wildflowers for our crowns. I can carry them in my apron until I find something else.”
She holds out a blue box while I smile at her. She’s a good sister. It’s always been in her nature to be kind, generous, and compassionate.
“Thank you. This is perfect. I’ll return it to you as soon as I can, okay?”
; She grins and nods before plopping down on her bed. Putting my back to her, I try to hide my tucking the socks inside the box when her voice squeaks out, “What are you doing?”
I sigh and turn to her. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.”
She scrunches her face like she does when she thinks really hard. “Isn’t a secret like lying?”
She’s absolutely right, a secret is the same as lying. I just don’t want to pull her into this too. “I’m sorry, Mia…I can’t tell you.”
Her face is so heartbreaking. Her eyes get watery, and her lip quivers as she tries to keep from crying. “Oh…okay.”
I groan. I have no idea how she’s going to react to this. “All right, fine. Are you sure you want to know? Because you can’t tell anyone.”
She nods, scooting to the edge of the bed. “Uh-huh. I won’t tell. I promise.”
Lying down next to her, I look at the cracked ceiling. “The blood of innocence came to me today.”
She gasps, jumping up on all fours, her oak colored braids dangling as she leans over me. “Really?! Who do you think you will be placed with? Oh, I hope your first baby is a girl!” Her excitement is what I should be feeling, and I am envious of her for it. Her face falls into a frown as she suddenly remembers this is a secret. “Wait…you aren’t going to tell?! Laurel Ann, that’s a sin! A big one!”
“And that’s why I didn’t want to tell you. I don’t know why I’m not overcome with joy, but I’m not. I’m scared. I’m not ready to be placed. I know you probably don’t understand and think I am being selfish, because I am…I just can’t do it yet.”
She chews on her lip, thinking for a moment before she lies down next to me to rest her head on my chest. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”
“Thank you, Mia.” I kiss her and get up to finish hiding the box under my bed. “I need to go get my dress.”
She smiles as I leave to walk down the hall to my mother’s room. I knock on her door and push it open. She’s sitting at her vanity pinning up her light, strawberry hair, which is the exact same color as mine, into a bun.
She looks into the mirror, her beautiful smile lighting up when she sees me. “Hello, sweetheart. Did you have a blessed day?”
Well, it really depends on how you look at it… “I did, Mother, thank you. Robert said my dress was in here?”
Securing the last tendril, she stands and says, “Oh, yes. Here you are.” The dress is pale green with lace along the hem. “Wear your best shoes tonight, all right?”
I nod, and she sighs while her thumb rubs my cheek. “I know you and Benji are close, but he has endangered us all by bringing evil into the Anointed Land. You understand he needs to atone, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mother.”
She softly smiles. “Good girl, now go help your mothers start supper. I’ll be there shortly.”
I take my dress to my room to see Mia is gone. She must already be in the kitchen. Making my way back to the front of the house, I find Sister Lydia peeling potatoes.
“Hello, Laurel Ann. Have you seen Hope and Faith?”
I pump some water in the basin to wash my hands. Like anyone can keep track of those two. “No, ma’am, not since school let out.”
She points to the porch. “All right then, there’s a bucket of corn needing to be shucked.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Once the corn is finished, I bring it inside to see the twins, Hope and Faith, setting the large table. I hand the basket to Sister Julia.
“Thank you, Laurel Ann. The girls are nearly finished, and Mia is getting the vegetables from the garden, so why don’t you start boiling water.”
Just then, my elder sister, Clary, walks in. While she’s lived in the placing dorms since receiving the blood of innocence four months ago, she still joins the family at dinners and community events until she gets placed.
“Clary!” The twins squeal as they run to hug her.
She laughs and pulls an apron over her head. “I’ve missed you too.”
Eventually, all my mothers and sisters are bustling around the large kitchen and dining room, getting dinner ready. My father and brothers barrel inside as the room gets instantly louder.
I love my family. I’m grateful I had the blessing of being raised in the Anointed Land. I am very fortunate to have not been born to Philistines. I often feel bad for the kids who are living around all that evil, hate, and cruelty.
We all hold hands and bow our heads.
Father’s strong voice is loud as it fills the kitchen. “Thank you, Zaaron, for the sacrifices you have made for us. We pray our thanks for your time on Earth, teaching us what you desire. We are grateful that when you bring about the Abolition and set this world aflame, we can join you in the Paradise Star. Thank you for blessing us with our Prophet to guide us. May your holy fire cleanse us.”
“Truth and purity, Amen,” we all say.
My plate is halfway empty when my father raises his hand to quiet the room. We fall silent as he stands.
“Today is a day made by Zaaron, and He has bestowed yet another blessing upon us.” He gestures to Sister Esther, taking her hand. “We will be bringing another child into our family and another soul to live with us for eternity.”
Everyone claps while they speculate over whether they hope it’s a boy or a girl. Not that it matters, we won’t know until the birth anyway. I look at Sister Esther. Her cheeks are pushing up against her eyes to trap the tears with her forced smile. I was there when she gave birth to Paul three months ago. It was terrible. She was in labor for almost twenty hours, and there was so much blood. The midwife got nervous and made everyone besides my mothers leave the room.
I doubt she’s jumping up and down to do that again. Still, she should feel pride in the price she paid in pain. Without it, we wouldn’t have Paul. Yesterday, I would have thought she was being selfish, feeling sorry for herself when she should be rejoicing. That was yesterday. Today, I understand her tears and her fear.
After helping my mothers and sisters clean up, we all go to our rooms to prepare for the soul cleansing. I make sure I change the toilet paper and freshen up my hair before putting on the lovely dress my mother got for me.
Mia watches me get ready. “You look pretty.”
She’s trying to make me feel better because she knows I don’t want to go. When Father starts making her attend, she will hate it just as much as I do.
“Thanks, Mia.” I tie the ribbon on my best bonnet and kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I’m the youngest of my siblings to attend. The twins and my sister, Elizabeth, will stay back to watch the younger children to allow all my mothers to go.
We all walk in our order: Pa, Sister Julia, and my brothers Benjamin Jr., Doyle, and Samuel. Then Sister Lydia, Clary, my mother, Robert, me, Sister Mary, and then lastly, Sister Esther. As we get closer to the tabernacle, we walk through the common ground, and I see Benji Johnson’s family. This must be horrible for them. When I was younger, my eldest brothers, Benjamin Jr. and Doyle, both had soul cleansing rituals after they got caught skipping a holy service to play. I don’t really remember it, and for that I am grateful.
We all pile into the tabernacle; most of the compound is in attendance. I keep my eyes peeled for Zebadiah when instead, I find Benji bearing the ox yoke. His arms are held up, trapped in the bows, and I cringe at how the wooden beam presses against the base of his neck, forcing him to hunch over.
I finally see Zeb’s family walk in, taking their seats at the front as our Prophet, Hiram Fitch, stands at the pulpit. The golden sigil pendant shines from his neck, and his black hat casts a shadow across his face before he takes it off. My father and mothers say they can physically feel the presence of Zaaron coming from him. I think maybe I can too. He’s so holy. I love him, and I’m thankful that we have such a wonderful man to lead us as we await the destruction of the planet. The big wooden doors close, and when he holds up his arms, the room falls silent.
&nbs
p; “Children of Zaaron, this is not a joyous occasion. We are here because one of us has lost his way.” He always pauses at every sentence or two when he speaks, so half the time I find myself wondering if he’s finished talking. “He has tainted his soul with evil and must be cleansed of it. Benji Johnson, please come forward.”
Benji stands from a pew against the side of the stage, struggling to move with his arms trapped. Ropes fall from the chain rings and drag against the floor on either side of him as he walks with bare feet to the Prophet. His eyes are filled with fear when he turns toward the followers. He should be scared. The soul cleansing ritual is brutal for a reason. Sinning tarnishes our internal light. That’s not something easily removed.
The Prophet continues, “You were found in possession of a Devil’s box, is that true?”
Benji holds his head up as much as he is able. “Yes, Prophet.”
“And you are aware that is a direct violation of spiritual law, given to us by our God?”
“I do.”
“Do you desire to have the holy fire of Zaaron cleanse you of this transgression?”
I can see him swallow from here. “Yes, I do.”
We all clap because he’s making a brave and righteous decision. He has recognized his failure to remain pure in the eyes of Zaaron.
The Prophet places his hat back on his head and lifts the ropes tied to the chain rings, using them to lead Benji like cattle down the aisle between the pews, and back outside.
Filing out of the tabernacle, we gather around the cleansing station at the edge of the common ground. The cleansing station is simply two large, wooden pillars mounted into the dirt, placed roughly five feet apart. There are grooves at the top of each pillar for the ropes to slide through. The small stone altar sits next to the north-facing pillar, holding the flame previously blessed by the Prophet.
I stare into the ember tendrils. It’s incredibly beautiful and powerful. It’s not just a regular, plain fire. Zaaron and the Prophet are tied together in a sacred bond. The Prophet is not only His direct descendant, but He flows through him, allowing the fire to be blessed, possessing the ability to purify our souls.