I couldn’t.
All I felt was resigned. This was happening, and there was nothing I could do about it.
When Gideon asked me if I took this man as my husband, I said, “I do.”
Bob slid an unadorned gold band on my ring finger. I stared down at it, knowing I was bound and claimed.
“You may now kiss the bride,” said Gideon.
Bob leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. They were thin and papery, and his beard was scratchy.
It was nothing like kissing Jesse, nothing at all.
But deep inside me, some part of me was glad of that, because some part of me treasured what I’d had with Jesse, brief and sinful though it might have been. I didn’t want to have another experience that trumped my moments with Jesse, because I wanted to keep those moments special and sweet and untouched.
Even after all of this, I still had a rebellious spirit.
No wonder God had decided to test me in this way. I was a very willful, wicked girl.
I must put all my old feelings aside and do my duty now.
Only when all my feelings for Jesse faded far away, would I really be free and pure and worthy of the Lord’s love.
* * *
After the wedding, there was a big dinner shared by my family and Bob’s. I supposed I was going to have to get used to thinking of Bob’s family as mine soon, but for now, it seemed too strange to do so.
I sat next to Bob at a big table in the dining room, and I watched him eat. I didn’t touch my food, however, because I still didn’t seem to have a taste for anything. Though I could smell the food, it didn’t smell very appetizing, and I simply didn’t feel hungry. If Bob noticed that I wasn’t eating, he didn’t say anything. He didn’t seem to be paying much attention to me at all. He talked with Gideon and my father throughout the meal. Since Gideon and Bob were there, the rules that women were to be silent during a meal were observed.
In my home, my father had never enforced the rule, saying he thought it was ridiculous. If my mothers didn’t speak to him, he’d have no one to talk to except the boys. I was used to boisterous meals, full of laughter and the chatter of both male and female voices. I supposed that here, things would be different.
Bob and I weren’t going away for a honeymoon. Sometimes couples did. Usually when that happened, they’d take a trip to the Life community in Sarasota, Florida. However, ever since Gideon had come into the community, the elders had been speaking disparagingly of the Sarasota community, claiming they were far too worldly.
It was true that the community in Sarasota had city electricity and water but that was only because the area there was so built up that it was impossible not to be connected. Robert Morris himself had started the community there, and he’d said it was okay for them to function the way they did, as long as they kept themselves separate in every other way.
Anyhow, it was just as well, because I didn’t want to go away with Bob. I didn’t like the idea of being alone with him on a trip. We’d be spending our wedding night together in his house, and that was just fine with me.
Since Bob’s farm was so successful, he had a massive house. It was constructed of three wings, one for each wife. From above, the house would resemble a T, each wife’s wing jutting out from the center, where the kitchen and laundry rooms were located. Bob’s office, where we’d been married, was also in the center. There was a guest bedroom there, and I learned that would be my room for the time being. I didn’t know what would happen when I started to have children, and I didn’t bother to ask. Maybe if I didn’t think about it, it wouldn’t happen.
Fern was the one who took me to my room, since all her children were grown, and she didn’t have anyone to shuffle off to bed.
I had attempted to help with the clean up in the kitchen after dinner but had just felt in the way as I watched Bob’s wives and older daughters work and talk together. They all knew their tasks, whether it be washing or drying, and they knew where all the dishes belonged. I stood there, looking like an idiot, until Fern took me by the arm and led me down the hallway and told me about my room.
My guitar and my suitcase were already there. Between the two things, I had everything that I owned.
Fern opened a door off the room. “You’ve got your own bathroom here, with your own shower. Just be aware that there’s not usually any hot water after about nine in the morning, since there’s so many bathing in the mornings. You can try to get up early enough to beat the rush, or you can get used to the chill.”
I nodded.
“Well, all right, then,” said Fern. “After breakfast tomorrow, we’ll have our weekly wives’ meeting, and we’ll get everything in the schedule adjusted then.”
I knew that my mothers had a wives’ meeting every week too, but I had no idea what she meant by adjusting the schedule.
Fern wasn’t rude to me, but she wasn’t warm either. She was very matter of fact about everything, and once she’d told me what she needed to, she left.
I sat down on the edge of the double bed in the room. It was covered with a quilt, probably something that one of Bob’s wives had made. There was a dresser in the corner and a full-length mirror next to it. There was nothing else in the room.
I went to the door and peered outside. Because my room was at the center of the T, it meant that I was very close to the front door. I had a sudden desire to grab my guitar, run through the door, and just keep running and running.
Before I could even scold myself for thinking that, I heard voices.
I saw Bob and his youngest wife Sally coming around the bend in the hallway. I ducked back into my room, out of sight.
“I just don’t see why it has to disrupt the schedule,” came Sally’s voice. She sounded close to tears. “Tonight is my night, not hers. I don’t see why she can’t wait until her turn on the rotation.”
“Now, now, Sally, it will be all right,” Bob’s voice replied. “You must pray that God will give you a spirit of acceptance, so that you can welcome your new wife.”
“I do welcome her,” said Sally. “But I think it would be respectful if she waited until her turn to have a night with you.”
“It’s not her decision. It’s mine. Tonight is my wedding night with Abigail, and I can’t let your insecurities get in the way of that.”
“But, Bob, you’re not even supposed to have another wife. I was supposed to be the last one. I don’t understand—”
“Sally.” Bob’s voice was firm. “I love you very much, but I won’t continue this conversation with you. Now, give me a kiss, and go to sleep.”
“You’re really going to her?”
“I really am.”
It sounded like Sally was starting to cry.
I put my fingers to my lips. This was horrible. I didn’t want to cause problems in Bob’s family just by being there. I wanted to run into the hallway and tell Sally it was fine with me if Bob spent the night with her instead of me. As far as I was concerned, he didn’t need to spend any night with me, ever.
The conversation with Jesse floated through my head. Aren’t they going to tell you before they marry you off to that bastard?
No one had told me anything. I knew that something was supposed to happen on my wedding night, and I knew that people referred to it sometimes as marital relations, but I didn’t know what it was all about, not really. I had a vague idea that it was going to involve taking off my clothes, which I didn’t want to do, but I wasn’t sure of that either, because nakedness was such a sinful thing.
“Off with you, Sally,” Bob’s voice said from outside the room.
I started to pace, clutching my elbows. I was still wearing my wedding dress, and my hair was still up in its braided crown.
I heard Bob’s footsteps approaching the door.
I stopped pacing and scurried over to the dresser, where I began to remove the pins from my hair.
Bob opened the door.
I looked up, my fingers in my braids, loosening my hair.<
br />
Bob smiled at me. “Hi there, honey.”
My lower lip trembled. “Hi.” My voice was barely audible. I turned away from him and concentrated on my braid. My fingers fumbled with my hair.
He was behind me, his hands on my waist.
I stiffened at his touch.
“Here, let me help.” His hands on my hair, tugging out my braids. He was quick, as if eager for something, and he pulled my hair.
I winced.
But then my hair was free.
He brushed it away from my neck, over one shoulder. He unzipped my zipper.
Oh. Okay, it was going to be about getting undressed. I gulped as the air hit my bare back.
Bob turned me around to face him. His wrinkled features leered at me. He was so… old. I didn’t want him to touch me.
But he peeled my dress away from my shoulders. He pulled it down so that he exposed me all the way to my waist. I was only in my bra in front of him.
Shocked, my instinct was to cover myself. I drew my hands up to my chest.
Bob chuckled. He tugged my hands away, and his greedy eyes drank me in.
I felt embarrassed, ashamed, and confused. What was happening?
He slid a finger under the strap of my bra and pulled it away from my shoulder.
I shied away from his touch.
He chuckled again. “It’s all right, Abigail. You’re my wife now, and God wants you to do what pleases me. You do want to please me, don’t you?”
What I wanted was not to be here, half-naked with this old man. Beneath his beard, I could see that the skin of his neck was loose. It hung in weathered folds. Everything seemed wrong somehow. This couldn’t be happening to me. This couldn’t be my life. But I nodded anyway. I didn’t trust my voice.
“Good.” He pulled on the strap of my bra and then let go so that it snapped against my skin. “Then take this off.”
I swallowed. With shaking fingers, I reached back to unfasten my bra. Then I hesitated.
He nodded at me. “Be a good girl and do as I say.”
I looked away, my face flushing, and I pulled it away from my body.
He snatched it from me and tossed it on the floor.
Now I was naked from the waist up, my breasts bare. I shivered. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was cold or because I was afraid.
Bob seemed pleased. He gathered my breasts into his wrinkled hands, giving them both a painful squeeze.
Then he pushed my dress over my hips, and I was only in my underwear.
I shook all over. Shook so hard that my teeth chattered.
“You cold?” Bob was smiling.
I didn’t say anything.
“Let me warm you up, honey.” Maybe he meant it to be reassuring or sweet. I don’t know. But there was something in his voice, something that spoke of impatience and hunger, and it made me feel uneasy.
But I didn’t resist when he led me to the bed and made me lie down. He had me get under the covers while he hurriedly undressed. I didn’t watch. I was too nervous. I lay on my back under the covers, looking up at the ceiling and trying to remember to breathe.
He turned out the light, and I was glad not to see him.
His hands were on my body beneath the covers, running over my breasts and belly. His touch went lower, to my underwear.
“Take these off too.”
I struggled out of my underwear, still shaking, even under the covers. I felt afraid and confused, and I didn’t like any of this. It couldn’t be right for Bob to do this to me, could it? I was so embarrassed. I had never been naked around another person, at least not since I was a very little girl, and my mother had to help me with baths.
Bob pressed close to me. He was naked too, and I liked that even less. His skin was clammy and loose.
He kissed me, a slobbery kiss that tasted of tic-tacs and the meal we’d eaten earlier.
I shuddered and moved my face away. I felt disgusted.
He grabbed my hand and put it on his body. He made me touch his penis. I knew what one was—I’d changed enough of my little brother’s diapers to be aware of male plumbing. But Bob’s was significantly bigger, owing to the fact he was a grown-up, I guessed. And it was doing something… strange. It was half stiff, almost standing straight up.
I didn’t want my hand there. It was dirty. This was not a place where people were supposed to touch each other, and I didn’t think that I should be doing this. I tried to move my hand, but he wouldn’t let me.
“Rub it, honey,” he grunted. “You’ve got to help me get it hard.”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, and I didn’t like the sound of his voice, thick with desire. He didn’t sound like himself, like the man I’d heard give sermons from the pulpit. Something had crept into his voice. Something excited and vulgar.
He wrapped his hand around mine, so that I was grasping his penis, and he forced me to move my hand up and down.
Bob groaned softly. “That’s good, honey. That’s very, very good.”
I felt sick.
It got stiffer and harder, so I guessed that was what he’d meant earlier. Now that I’d done that, were we done? I wanted him to leave me alone and let me go to sleep.
But he wasn’t done. He let me move my hand, but then he moved over top of me, settling his naked body against mine. His belly pushed into mine. Bob wasn’t a fat man, but he was old and pudgy. And he was heavy. He was sweating, and he didn’t smell good.
He kissed me again.
I thought I might throw up. I didn’t like the taste of him inside my mouth.
But then the worst thing happened. He pushed my legs open and fumbled with me down there. I didn’t like it, and I tried to squirm away from him.
He chuckled. “Hold still.”
He was doing something with his penis, pushing it against me, rubbing his parts against my parts, and I thought that was incredibly unsanitary and gross and then…
It hurt.
I made a muffled noise against the pain, but Bob didn’t care.
He had put his penis inside my body. I hadn’t even known such a thing was possible, but it was happening, and it was horrible.
He was too big, and I was too little down there, and he didn’t fit, and it really, really hurt. He was pushing himself in and out of me, working really hard at it, too. He huffed on top of me.
I held my breath, hoping he’d stop.
But he didn’t. He kept going. And going.
I clutched handfuls of sheets and squeezed my eyes shut and waited.
Bob was wheezing. Sweat was pouring off of his body, getting all over me, and it smelled really bad, and I hated this. I hated it.
But this must be it. This must be marital relations. Or… the other word. Whatever Jesse had said. Sex.
And I was pretty sure that Jesse had wanted to do it do me too. Maybe it would have been a little bit better. Kissing Jesse was definitely better. But I didn’t think it would have been any fun, even with Jesse. This was just the grossest thing I could possibly think of. And it hurt so much.
I opened my eyes and looked up at the ceiling while Bob labored on me.
Please stop soon, I begged. Please, please, God make him stop.
He kept going.
After a while, it didn’t seem to hurt as bad, or maybe I just got used to it.
Finally, Bob pushed himself deep into me, let out a sigh, and then collapsed on me. He tried to kiss me again, but I moved out of the way, and he was too exhausted to insist.
He rolled off of me, and, within a few minutes, he was snoring.
I lay shocked and horrified, too disgusted to sleep.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jesse
After Abby ran away from me, I got back in my truck and drove out of the community. But I didn’t go very far before I stopped driving. I slept out in the desert that night, huddled under blankets in the back of my truck.
At first, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think of was the way that she’d felt in my ar
ms, how wonderful it had been to kiss her. And then how much it had hurt when she said she never wanted to see me again.
But I did sleep. I’m not sure why. Maybe I’d suffered too many shocks and betrayals at that point to even know how to function. My body seemed to shut down, as if sleeping could heal me.
I slept a long time. When I woke up, it was afternoon, and I was soaked in sweat in the back of my truck.
I ate some of the food that I’d been given, and I started driving.
I made it to Lebenet before dark. I didn’t have much money, but I’d managed to save some. I was good at knowing how to squirrel away anything that came my way. Most guys in the community did, holding it back for after they got married. It was customary for a father to give his son a little bit of land to start his own farm when he came of age, but if a father had a lot of sons, he didn’t always have the resources to help build a house or establish the son’s new life. So most of us boys saved money whenever we could. I had five hundred dollars. I wasn’t supposed to have taken that out of the community either, but I’d gotten it, along with my truck.
I used the money to get food that night. I didn’t go into one of the sit-down restaurants, because I couldn’t bear the reminders of Abby. I went to a drive-thru instead, ate fast food. It was delicious and filling. All those years, I’d been such a good boy when my friends did rebellious things like go to McDonald’s. What a waste. If I’d known I was just going to be cast out, anyway, I would have had a little more fun.
After I ate, I felt exhausted again, and so I climbed into the back of my truck and slept again. It seemed like that was all I wanted to do. It was respite. When I was asleep, I didn’t have to face the fact that everyone I’d ever cared about had abandoned me.
When I thought about Abby, especially, it was a physical pain, something sharp and aching. I didn’t like the feeling, so I tried not to think about her. She’d chosen to stay behind. She hadn’t chosen me. I had to forget her, just like she was going to forget me.
But I did have one thought, as I was drifting off. I remembered that this would have been the night of Abby’s wedding, and I knew that she was with Bob Carroll. I thought about that horrible old man with his hands all over her, and I started punching the bed of my truck so hard that it made my knuckles bleed.
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