Righteous - 01 - The Righteous

by Michael Wallace

  “I see.”

  “There is one other thing,” Father said. “You will marry Elder Kimball’s daughter. Taylor Junior will marry your sister. The weddings will take place tomorrow morning.”

  “Eliza.” The single word came out of his mouth.

  Father nodded. “Yes, Eliza. I’m sorry, Jacob.”

  The men at the table watched Jacob, waiting. One word, one nod from him and a sigh of relief would ripple through the room. What struggles had brought them to this point, what crisis threatened to tear apart the church? He could dissolve that crisis with a single word of consent.

  “I can’t do that. I won’t.”

  “Jacob,” his Father began.

  Brother Joseph cut in then. “I understand this is difficult for you. I’ve seen that you love your sister and would shield her from harm. You would choose a different man for her. But this solution, agreed upon by all parties, would bring healing to the Quorum. It is the Lord’s will that we resolve the spirit of contention in this body.”

  “And you’re telling me this is the Lord’s will?” Jacob shook his head. “I don’t believe it. Why would the Lord force me to sacrifice my sister and her happiness? Did you know that Taylor Junior attacked Eliza?” Jacob looked around the room, now speaking to all of them. “He broke into her room, waited till she came back and then groped her. Probably would have raped her if I hadn’t intervened. And you want her to marry this man?”

  Men shifted in their seats and he saw their discomfort. No surprise, however. They knew already what Taylor Junior was or was not. Oh, but don’t look too closely or it might disturb the convenient solution to their problems. And why should this surprise him? They had already abandoned Amanda Kimball.

  Brother Joseph broke the silence, “I sympathize with your position, and I’ll counsel Elder Kimball’s son before the marriage. He must learn how to manage his passions.”

  Jacob shook his head, “That’s not enough. Maybe Taylor Junior can reform himself. Maybe not. But I still won’t trust him with my sister. Eliza holds only contempt for Taylor Junior. Contempt and fear. What kind of a brother would sell out his sister like you’re suggesting?

  “And isn’t a woman also a child of God?” he continued. “Doesn’t she deserve happiness? Or is she a brood mare, to be sold, traded, and bred with whatever stallion her owners have chosen?”

  The prophet said, “Jacob, we are, none of us, our own masters. This is the hard truth. We are servants of the Lord, and we belong to Him. The Lord has commanded that we build His kingdom. This means that our personal desires must be subsumed for the good of Zion. Our reward comes not in this life, but in the world to come. It is there that we will receive our glory, that the Lord will embrace each of us and say, ‘well done, thou good and faithful servant.’ In the meanwhile, our path is sometimes difficult.”

  “The world to come?” Jacob couldn’t help himself. “Why should we expect to treat each other any better in the next world? Somehow we’re going to value individuals in the next world when we can’t manage to do so here?”

  Grandpa Griggs leaned to Jacob’s father and whispered something. Abraham Christianson nodded. He rose to his feet, looking troubled. Good, Jacob thought, let him twist on a skewer of his own guilt.

  His father said, “I’m going to excuse myself to the hall to have a word with my son.”

  Jacob turned on his father as soon as they reached the hall. “You sold out your own daughter. What’s more, you betrayed Amanda Kimball. Her blood cries from the grave, and you made a bargain to silence that cry.” He stared at his father with white-hot fury and a dawning realization. “You never sent me to Blister Creek to resolve her murder, did you? You sent me forward, like a pawn on a chess set, to get behind Elder Kimball’s defenses.”

  His father slapped him. An open hand, hard across the cheek. Jacob drew back and stared at his father with disdain, daring him to strike him again. His cheek throbbed.

  Father said, “Get a grip on yourself. You are a man who can control his emotions, Jacob. I expect you to do so now. Now, I want you to listen, and listen well.”

  His anger roared in his ears, but he didn’t give it voice. Instead, he sat for a long moment until it receded. “I’m listening.”

  “Ready? Good, that’s better. First, there will be time to find Amanda’s murderer. Later, when the dust has settled. More important is to cut off the men who are maneuvering for power. If they gain mastery over our side, then Amanda will never receive justice.”

  “But what about the prophet? Isn’t he the leader of the church?”

  “Yes, of course. But he’s a peacemaker. Harmony and a singularity of purpose are of supreme importance. The people who stand in open conflict will always lose. We must match our enemies’ tactics step for step. Our enemies are subtle, and so must we be.”

  His father took him by the arm and led him a few paces away from Brother Joseph’s sons standing vigil outside the door to the bishop’s office. When he spoke again, his voice was low. “Do you know why they want Eliza so badly? There are other women available.”

  Jacob shrugged. “To gain leverage in our family?” They already had one such with Fernie, although she wasn’t a blood relative of Abraham Christianson.

  “More elemental than that.”

  “She’s young, attractive. Intelligent.”

  “Intelligent. Yes. IQ of 138. Very high for a woman. Now, I don’t mean anything sexist by that, but you know we can only work one end of the gene pool.”

  Jacob said, “Meaning that we can only select for intelligence in our men. Every woman is valuable, intelligent or not.”

  “Exactly. The Lord has chosen us to rule the world some day. To do so, we need two things that we do not yet have. First, we must multiply our numbers. We are doubling in population every twenty years, but is it fast enough? And the second thing we need is the mental and spiritual faculties to rule. When the Lord first told Joseph Smith to implement the principle of plural marriage He said that it was to raise up a righteous seed. A seed is cultivated, selected for its vigor. We must do the same thing within the ranks of our people.”

  It was a straight-out admission of what Jacob had confirmed with his own observation. That it was so direct came as a surprise. “We’re breeders of people.”

  Father continued, “Now, here’s where we reach the conflict within the Quorum. There are some who say, ‘faster, faster.’ They want to see improvement within their own lifetimes. The Second Coming might be just around the corner. Selecting for intelligence within our men isn’t sufficient. And it fosters competition for the intelligent young women within the church. Like Eliza. There is another factor, too. That is the dysgenic effect of inbred communities.”

  Jacob nodded. In churches such as the Fundamentalist Latter Day Saints or the Kingston Clan, it was common to force women into marriage with first cousins, or even uncles. They even looked inbred.

  He’d never heard it spoken, though. The Saints considered themselves a chosen people, and there was a tendency for all chosen people to consider their blood and their kin to be superior to others. The ancient Israelites, the royal families of Europe, the pharaohs, the ruling classes of Imperial Japan. All, purposefully inbred.

  “Of course we’re not inbred to that extent,” Father said, “but don’t forget that we’re all descended from a handful of families. By your generation, everyone is a second cousin, usually by several different lines. We need fresh blood.”

  “And what’s the solution to that? Proselyte? Send missionaries door to door like the Salt Lake Mormons?”

  “Some people explored adoption about twenty years ago. It was a hard sell. Let us adopt children—girls only, mind you—and raise them in our polygamist community. Then we’ll marry them to our sons at the age of sixteen.” Father smiled. “Then there’s the small matter that the genetic heritage of adoptees is not strong. Whatever we’d gain from hybrid vigor would be lost by mixing our genes with the daughters of drug addicts and p
rostitutes.”

  “That’s a little harsh.”

  “I’m just laying out the argument, Jacob.”

  “Fine, so then what?”

  “I say nothing. I say we keep a lookout for likeminded individuals who are open to joining Zion. And we guard against cousin marriage. Over time, as Zion grows and we add a small number of converts, the dysgenic effects will fade. I’m not expecting the Second Coming to arrive within my lifetime, you see. There are too many prophesies yet to come true, and we are too small to form the foundation of Christ’s kingdom on the earth.”

  Father shook his head. “But here’s the heart of the matter. There’s a small, but influential and growing group within the church—let’s call them super-eugenicists—who don’t accept the slower pace.”

  “And this group is led by Elder Kimball?” Jacob asked.

  “That’s right. Some of them took their wives to fertility clinics to bring in outside genetic material. Have you noticed how many twins have been born in the last ten years?”

  “I just thought that was normal fertility treatment stuff.”

  “Some of it might be. Maybe even one of the twins would be their own, the other from a purchased embryo.”

  “It’s all rather slimy.”

  “I was outraged when I found out,” Father said. “And Brother Joseph put a stop to it. But Elder Kimball keeps pushing and pushing. What does it mean for Zion if we become nothing more than a program of scientific breeding? We can’t let those people win.”

  Jacob felt a helpless despair. “But, Father…”

  Father fixed him with a hard look. “This is bigger than you, bigger than Eliza. Bigger than me. It is nothing less than a struggle between God and Satan.”

  Why does Satan have to be involved? Jacob wondered. Aren’t our enemies perfectly capable of motivating their own bad behavior?

  Father drew a breath. “So you see why I need you on the Quorum. And you know what that means for Eliza.”

  Jacob let out a groan that had been building in him. He balled his fists and put them to his temples in frustration. “Father, I can’t.”

  “Think about the practical ramifications of your opposition. First, Taylor Junior will take your place in the Quorum of the Twelve. The super-eugenicists will move forward with their plan. Amanda’s murderer, you can rest assured, will never be punished. What’s more, you won’t even stop Eliza’s marriage into the Kimball family.”

  His face hardened. “Jacob, there can be no argument. Either you will come along with me, or I will dismiss you now and make the same arrangement, but with your younger brother Joshua.”

  “Joshua is only eighteen.”

  “Yes, I know. A good boy, but not ready to move into a leadership position.”

  “And I am?” Jacob asked. “I’m only twenty-six.”

  “Is that your answer? No?”

  He had made a promise to his sister, but this, this burden his father had placed upon him would force him to break that promise. Jacob bowed his head and didn’t lift it for a long moment. It felt as though a millstone hung about his neck. A millstone of guilt and shame and weighty expectations that he could not hope to fulfill.

  At last he lifted his head and said, “Okay, I’ll do it.”

  They returned to the room where they had kept the prophet and the other elders waiting. Jacob took his seat. He would not look at Elder Kimball. If he did, he would lose his resolve. He’d rather climb over the table and rip out the man’s throat than betray Eliza.

  He looked straight at the prophet. “Okay, Brother Joseph. I’m in agreement. Let there be harmony among the servants of the Lord.”

  “Let us form a circle then, and ordain you to your office,” Brother Joseph said.

  They pulled a chair aside and Jacob took his seat. The men gathered around him, apostles of the Lord with the keys to bind on heaven and earth. Each man placed his right hand on Jacob’s head and his left on the shoulder of the man to his left. Jacob didn’t belong here; he wanted to throw off their hands and break from the circle.

  Brother Joseph spoke. “Jacob Levi Christianson. In the name of Jesus Christ and by the Power of the Holy Melchizedek Priesthood we ordain you to the office of apostle…”

  Jacob left the room as the junior member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. They had blessed him with the spiritual keys to the kingdom. The ability to converse with angels. An elder of Israel.

  He was engaged to marry one of Elder Kimball’s daughters, a girl named Jessie Lynn. There had been three to choose from. It made no difference to him, so he chose the oldest. Almost eighteen. They would marry Thursday evening. Tomorrow.

  As he stepped outside, he found Eliza talking to Fernie and Jessie Lynn Kimball. The irony drew him up short. The sister he had betrayed, the woman he loved, and the girl he would marry. All three looked his way as he came. They were laughing.

  He had entered the church building with two goals. Continue his investigation, and protect his sister from a marriage to the treacherous Taylor Kimball, Junior. He had failed on both accounts.

  Chapter Eighteen:

  Elder Kimball was the second person to slip away from the meeting. Others saw him go, and perhaps thought that he was hurrying after Jacob to have a word with the boy. Perhaps he would play the part of peacemaker, now that his needs had been met. Maybe welcome Jacob to the family.

  Instead, he walked to the other side of the chapel until his phone had service, then dialed his son. Gideon picked up on the second ring. “We’re ready, Father. Jacob just left the church house. We haven’t found Enoch yet, but that’s only a matter of time.”

  Gideon must be somewhere within sight of the church, then, as Jacob couldn’t have left the building more than a minute earlier.

  Kimball said, “Stop. Don’t move another inch forward.” A long silence on the other end. “Did you hear me? We’re not going through with the plan.”

  “I heard you.” What was that in Gideon’s voice? Defiance?

  A nervous tickle grew in Elder Kimball’s stomach. The growing feeling that he had misjudged Gideon now flowered into full-blown fear. “We’re not going through with it, Gideon. I’m serious. There’s no need. Jacob has capitulated completely.”

  “Has he?” Gideon asked in a flat tone. There was not even skepticism in his voice. It was worse than that. He didn’t care what Jacob did or didn’t do.

  “He’ll marry Jessie Lynn, and we get Eliza Christianson in return.”

  “Taylor Junior gets Eliza, you mean.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t matter. Our status just climbed two notches. People owe us favors. You’ll be next. I promise. First, your refellowshipping into the church. Then, your own wife. And look, the Christiansons might still be persuaded. We have persuaded them to this point, why shouldn’t we keep trying? Surely they’ll see that ours is the wisest course to better God’s people. The Lord works through gentle persuasion, not by violence.”

  A chuckle now. “Ah, Father. You don’t understand at all. The wheel has turned. The old order no longer applies. The time for gentle persuasion has passed. It’s time for the Lord’s wrath. We’ve seen an angel. He won’t have us hesitate or delay because of the machinations of twelve old men. Fools, all of them. And you, you are the biggest fool of all.”

  Kimball could no longer contain his rage and frustration. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again, boy. You are nothing. Do you hear me? Nothing! Excommunicated. Apostate. A sinner.” His voice sounded shrill, even in his own ears, but he couldn’t stop. “You have been cast from the Lord’s presence. It was I who took you through the temple, gave you your endowment, you and all the other Lost Boys. And only I hold the key to your return, do you understand?”

  “Are you finished?” Gideon’s voice remained even. “Good. Now you listen to me. It is you who are nothing. The winnowing has begun. Enoch has been sealed unto death. Jacob, too. Will you join their number? Will the Lord take your wives and your children and seal them unto another?
Will you lose your kingdom? Will your soul be cast into Outer Darkness?”

  Kimball screamed into the phone, “They’ll never follow you. Not the Lost Boys, not the people of the church. And the prophet will condemn you when he finds out. As will I. You are a murderer! You murdered my wife! You didn’t have to do that. Murderer! I’ll tell them. I’ll tell the prophet. And Elder Christianson. And Jacob. All of them.”

  “No, Father.” Voice calm. “You won’t. Now go home and await my next command. It will come very soon. And remember, we do not treat gently those who break their covenants.”

  The words chilled him. Throat cut from ear to ear. Disemboweled. Organs fed to wild animals. “You could do that to your own father?” he asked, his voice small when it came out his mouth. “But, but, I brought you back, son. I showed compassion. I brought you back.”

  There was no reply. Kimball held the phone in his trembling hand as the line went dead. He could not believe what had happened. The enormity of it howled about his ears. He leaned against the wall to steady himself.

  “Are you alright, Taylor?”

  Elder Kimball turned to see the prophet approaching, watching him. Brother Joseph stopped a pace away and leaned against his cane. There was love in that face, and the gentleness of a father toward his child. And worry. That look made Kimball want to weep.

  Elder Kimball swallowed hard. Now was the time. Now was when he would tell the prophet all that had happened. He’d made mistakes. He had never meant for it to come to this. He would fall to his knees at Brother Joseph’s feet and beg for forgiveness. There was still time to stop the horrible sequence of events set in motion by his son. Brother Joseph would know what to do.

  Instead, he said, “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I just…conflict with one of my sons. You know how they get.”

  “Ah, yes. It is difficult.” Brother Joseph put a hand on his shoulder. “I understand Abraham’s fear of doing wrong by his daughter, but it is the sons who break my heart. So much potential. So often thrown away. Come. There will be time enough to worry about that later. For now, lift your spirits. We’ve once again found harmony in the Quorum. Let your heart be glad.”