Out of Heaven's Grasp

by V. J. Chambers

  He let go of me, sinking both his hands into his hair. “It can’t be. If I can go to the elders and tell them how I feel, maybe…”

  “But maybe they won’t,” I said.

  He dragged his hands the rest of the way through his hair and craned his neck up to look at the sky. “The problem is getting to the elders. I can’t go on my own. Only married men can request an audience, so I’d need my father to take me, and he won’t understand.”

  I stepped closer to him. “Maybe we should just wait. If it’s God’s will—”

  “I don’t care about God’s will.” He seized my hand again, interlacing our fingers. “I want you. You want me. That’s all that matters.”

  I cringed. I didn’t think I liked him saying things like that. Maybe we’d both confessed heretical thoughts to each other in Lebenet, maybe we’d even done sinful things together. But that didn’t mean we threw all our beliefs away. It meant that we repented and got right with God.

  At the same time, it felt so nice to hold his hand, and I had an urge to… to kiss him.

  I’d never kissed anyone, and I knew it was the height of sinfulness. Women weren’t supposed to kiss anyone except their husbands. It was permitted in formal courtship, once the elders had decreed that a man and woman would be married, so it could be done before marriage, but only with your intended spouse.

  I looked up at his lips, nestled under the hair of his beard.

  My own lips parted.

  Jesse’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He pulled me closer to him.

  He wound an arm around my waist.

  And then, suddenly, we were pressed against each other’s bodies. I could feel all of him—his chest, his legs—firm and warm through my clothes. A surge of heat shot through me, and I started to tremble.

  “Jesse…” I managed.

  He stroked my cheek again. He looked deeply into my eyes.

  His face was dipping down.

  His lips were coming for my lips.

  It was going to happen. He was going to kiss me. My pulse raced. My breathing grew shallow. I thought about pushing him away, telling him to stop, but I didn’t. Some part of me wanted this kiss more than anything I’d ever wanted.

  The sound of a gunshot shattered the air.

  “What’s going on out here?” yelled a voice.

  My father!

  I pushed away from Jesse, and he dropped me like I burned him.

  The bright light of a flashlight washed over our bodies.

  “Abigail, is that you?”

  My veins turned to ice.

  We’d been caught.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Abby

  My mother stood inside the door to my bedroom, shaking her head. “I never would have thought it of you, Abby.”

  Her disappointment was palpable, and I hated it.

  It was the next morning. After finding us, my father had run Jesse off, taken me back inside, and locked me in my room, promising to deal with me when we woke up. I hadn’t slept at all. I’d tossed and turned, worrying about what was going to happen to both of us.

  When I woke up, my mother brought me breakfast and let me take a shower, but she wouldn’t let me out of my room. She was guarding me, as if she was afraid I was going to try to bolt or something.

  My sisters knew something was going on, but my mother wouldn’t let me talk to them. She’d sent them off to start their morning chores, and now she and I were alone.

  I was sitting on the bed. “Mother, nothing’s really happened. We held hands. We talked. Nothing else. I think… I think I love him.”

  She folded her arms over her chest. “Sweetheart, this isn’t love, it’s the devil’s trap.”

  “But what if it’s not?” I sat up straight. “Remember Calvin and Eliza Davis? They were caught sneaking around, and the elders let them get married. That’s all Jesse and I want.”

  Her expression softened. “I know, I know.”

  “So?” I said. “Do you think you can talk to Father? Tell him that. Maybe he can ask the elders…?”

  She sighed. “You’ve been breaking the law of God, Abby. You can’t expect that doing something like that is going to lead to your heart’s desire.”

  I looked down at my hands. “I know.”

  “Your father went off to talk to Jesse’s father this morning. He was pretty angry. He doesn’t like having boys like that wandering around and preying on his little girls.”

  “He wasn’t preying on me, and I’m not a little girl.”

  “Oh, I told him that it wasn’t any use blaming the whole thing on Jesse. I told him I thought you were both equally led astray by the devil in this. If you’re meant to be married to Jesse, the elders will allow you to be together, but if that isn’t what God wants, then it won’t happen.”

  I wanted to believe that. But the thought that I wouldn’t end up with Jesse seemed too much to bear now. I’d almost kissed him, and I couldn’t get the memory of his fingers on my skin out of my head. Certainly, I was meant to be with him. It had to be true. It just had to be.

  I gave my mother a pleading look. “Can you just talk to Father, please?”

  “You need to trust in God,” she said. “Casting all your care upon him for he careth for you, Abby. God knows what’s best.”

  “But what if the elders get it wrong?” I said.

  “Abigail Teresa.” Her eyes widened in horror.

  “Sorry,” I muttered.

  “They are the men of God,” my mother said. “Don’t let me hear you say another word against them. The more you protest, the more I worry that it’s more than this boy that’s turned your head. You must bury your doubts in the deepest ocean.”

  I hung my head.

  From the depths of the house, I heard the voice of my father. “Judy, where are you?”

  My mother turned away. “I guess I better see what he wants.” She opened the door. “You stay right here.”

  “I will,” I said, feeling defeated.

  She stopped and looked over her shoulder. “Look, I’m not going to make any promises, but I’ll talk to him. I don’t see anything wrong with you and that Wallace boy getting married, especially considering everything.”

  I got up from the bed, hope filling me. “You will? Oh, thank you so much, Mother. Thank you.”

  “Don’t get your hopes up,” she said. She pointed back at the bed. “Now, you need to get down on your knees and pray for God to give you a spirit of acceptance, girl.”

  I threw my arms around her.

  She hugged me back, chuckling. “I mean it.” She was trying to sound stern but having a hard time. “You need to pray.”

  * * *

  Jesse

  Normally, I would have tried to stand up to my father, but I knew that I’d screwed up this time, so I just took it.

  He took me out into the barn, which was where he liked to do it. He went after me with his belt, something he hadn’t done since I was maybe thirteen or fourteen. He made me take off my shirt, and he just started wailing on me.

  He never talked while he did it. Sometimes, he’d let out little grunts—I could never tell if they were out of exertion or satisfaction. He’d really work himself up doing it, though. He’d end up sweaty and out of breath.

  I’d learned to concentrate on what he was doing—on what I could hear and see—so that I didn’t feel the pain as much. If I cried out in pain while he was doing it, then he’d do it for longer, so I had to stay absolutely silent and take it. Sometimes, if I was quiet and obedient, he only hit me a few times.

  But this time, he seemed so angry that he couldn’t stop.

  He whipped me until my back was bleeding.

  And then, almost as if he was unleashed, he leaped on me and started using his fists, slamming them into my face and jaw.

  But I didn’t even try to stop him then. I knew that I deserved this. I should never have gone after Abby London. Now, I’d disgraced my family. My father would be seen as an ungodly man who couldn’t
control his own son. He might never get another wife.

  But as I spit blood out of my mouth when my father was done beating me, I thought that maybe it was for the best. He didn’t deserve another wife.

  My father wasn’t a good man. He didn’t model the spirit properly. But I didn’t either. I was sinful, and I’d hurt everyone around me. I’d hurt my family, my mother. I knew that my father would blame her for my actions. He’d say that she had raised a sinful son, and that she should have taught me better. But the worst thing was that I’d hurt Abby. She’d tried to do the right thing. She’d tried to stay away from me, but I’d pushed it, and now I didn’t know what was going to happen to her.

  My father grabbed my hair and lifted my head to force me to look at him. He was kneeling next to me. His face was red, and there was sweat dripping off his chin. “You’ve always been worthless,” he rasped. He was out of breath.

  There was blood dribbling into my eye, but I didn’t dare brush it away. My face stung, and the wounds on my back burned.

  “Ever since you were born, you’ve been nothing but trouble. You’re a useless, lousy excuse for a son. God put you on this earth to test me, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t beat the devil out of you.”

  Everything hurt. I stared at him, his face contorted in anger, and the guilt consumed me. I’d known that what I’d done was wrong, but I’d done it anyway. My father was right. I was worthless and sinful.

  My father stood up. He aimed a kick into my midsection.

  I wasn’t expecting it, and I let out an involuntary grunt at the impact.

  “Don’t you moan and groan, boy.” He kicked me again. “You got yourself into this mess, and now you got to take your punishment.”

  This time, I managed not to make a noise.

  “Get yourself cleaned up. The elders want to see you.”

  When I heard him leave, I collapsed on the ground. I lay there, trying to breathe through the pain, even though it seemed as if my whole body was in agony.

  I couldn’t move for what seemed like a very long time. I tried to get to my feet a few times, but it hurt too much, and it was easier to stay where I was. I let out little anguished gasps. No one was there to hear me. It was okay. Sometimes, giving voice to the hurt made it a little easier to deal with.

  The door to the barn opened.

  I stiffened, sure my father was back to go at me some more or to scream at me to get up.

  But instead I heard my mother’s voice. “Oh dear sweet Jesus, what did he do to you this time?”

  I forced myself to stand up. I couldn’t let my mother think it was that bad. I peered at her through the blood that was in my face, and I tried to smile. “You shouldn’t be out here. If he sees you—”

  “Shh.” She put a gentle hand on my cheek. There were tears in her eyes. She shook her head. “Why do you always have to work him up so bad?”

  I swallowed. It tasted like blood. “I know. I’m sorry.”

  She bit her lip. “He can be a good man, Jesse, but when he gets like that…”

  “I screwed up.”

  She looked away. “Well, you should have been married and out of here months ago. It’s no good for boys your age to be under their father’s roofs so long. It never turns out well.”

  That was as close as my mother would ever get to breathing a word against my father. She was a good woman. She believed that a woman was meant to be obedient to her husband, and she was. She always stood by him, no matter what he did. He was lucky to have someone like her.

  But I could see in her eyes that it hurt her to see me like this.

  I couldn’t look at her. “I need to get cleaned up.”

  She put her hand on my cheek again. “I love you, Jesse. And God loves you. Never forget that.”

  * * *

  Gideon Walker was in his mid thirties. He was a short man, with curly hair and a curly beard. His eyes were piercing. He was often smiling, and he usually looked very open and easy to get along with. But he wasn’t smiling then.

  He sat in the middle of the table, with the elders flanking him, and they all stared at me with grave expressions. There were two seats in front of the table, one for me and one for my father. We were all downstairs in the meeting hall. This room was usually used for Sunday School, and there was a felt board on the wall, with little cut-outs of Jonah and the whale.

  I winced every time I moved, but if the elders noticed that—or the fact that my face was swollen and bruised—they didn’t let on.

  My father and I sat down in the chairs. We faced the elders and Gideon.

  But the elders didn’t speak.

  Instead, Gideon began the questioning. “You were found with the London girl, is that right?”

  “He’s a wretched boy,” said my father. “No matter how hard I’ve tried to discipline him, I can’t get him to straighten up. I think he might be under the thrall of a demon.”

  Gideon looked at me, not my father. “I’d like to hear from Jesse, if you don’t mind.”

  My father gave me a venomous look, one that told me he didn’t want me to screw things up any worse than I already had.

  “Jesse,” said Gideon. “It will go easier for you if you are honest with me. God sees all, and if you lie, he will know. And he’ll tell the elders the truth of things.”

  Really? Well, if the elders already knew everything from God, then what was the point of questioning me? But I nodded. “Yes, I was with Abigail. But it was my idea. It wasn’t her fault. I’m the one who should be in trouble, not her.”

  Gideon raised his eyebrows. “Did you force her to come along with you?”

  “Well… not exactly, but I’m the one who suggested it.”

  “And was that the first time you’ve been alone with Abigail London?”

  I hesitated. I looked out at the elders. Did God really speak to them? “Uh… no.”

  “How many times have you and this girl been alone together?” said Gideon.

  “Only twice.” I looked down at my hands.

  “Twice?”

  “I saw her in Lebenet last week. We talked.”

  “Really?” Gideon didn’t look pleased. “Didn’t Abigail have a chaperone on this trip?”

  “I…” Man, now I was getting everyone in trouble. “I don’t know.”

  Gideon pursed his lips. He didn’t believe me.

  “Look, I’m the one who did something wrong here,” I said. “I want to focus on that, not on everyone else. The truth is, I’m in love with her. I know that we went about things the wrong way, but I want to marry her, and I think if we—”

  “What kinds of things did you and Abigail do when you were alone together?” Gideon interrupted.

  “We talked.”

  “Talked.” Gideon didn’t seem to believe that either. “Did you kiss her?”

  “No,” I said. “I mean, maybe we would have, but her father showed up, and it never happened.”

  “Never,” said Gideon. “You never kissed her? Not once?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Did you touch her?”

  “We held hands,” I said.

  Gideon snorted. “You expect me to believe it was all so innocent, Jesse?”

  I licked my lips. “Well, we knew that to be alone together was a sin, so I don’t know if it was innocent.”

  “Did you fondle her breasts?” Gideon leaned forward eagerly. “Did either of you remove your clothing? Did you put your mouth on parts of her body? Did she put her mouth on you? Did you have sexual intercourse?”

  I felt uncomfortable. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  A smile played on Gideon’s lips. “God sees all, Jesse.”

  “I swear it was just… talking.”

  “And holding hands.” There was an ironic lilt to Gideon’s tone.

  “Yes,” I said.

  Gideon clasped his hands together. “Jesse, we all know that God tests the men of his chosen people harder than he tests the women. All of us must struggle aga
inst our base nature, our sinful desires. But if we are pure, God rewards us. He gives us many women to love and cherish, but we are to do so in a holy way. The urge to behave in an unholy way with a woman is quite strong, though. It can be almost overwhelming. And you are expecting me to believe that you were alone twice with this girl, and yet you didn’t act on your desires?”

  “I… I held her hand. I touched her face. We were… we were close to kissing.” I didn’t understand. I’d been taught my whole life that men weren’t supposed to have relations with women until they were married, and yet Gideon didn’t seem to believe it was possible that I hadn’t. If it was so difficult not to do that with a woman, then why did we even try?

  “You did desire her, didn’t you?”

  I thought I might be blushing now, but my face was so swollen and hot from my father’s beating, I couldn’t quite tell. “Yes.”

  “You thought about touching her?”

  I nodded.

  “Touching her breasts? Touching her between her legs?”

  Okay, yeah, I was definitely embarrassed.

  “Answer the question,” said Gideon.

  “M-maybe. Sort of. In a way.”

  “What do you mean in a way?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t have done those things if we weren’t married.”

  Gideon snorted again. “Oh, please, Jesse. You are insulting me, and all the elders, and your father, and God. Tell the truth. Did you have sexual relations with Abigail London?”

  “No,” I said. “No, I did not.”

  Gideon’s voice was cold. “You’re a liar.”

  “No.” I shook my head.

  “If you had confessed your sins, perhaps you could be forgiven, but you show no attempt to even acknowledge what you did wrong.”

  “I am confessing.” I sat forward in my chair, and it hurt to move, and I cringed. “I’m telling you everything, I swear. I never did anything like that with her. Maybe I…” I looked at the floor, and my voice lost strength. “Maybe I… thought about her and touched myself, but I never did anything with her.”

  This was going very badly. Deep down, I’d hoped for the chance to argue to the elders that Abby and I should be able to get married, but if Gideon didn’t believe me, then I wasn’t going to have the chance.