I Am Not Esther

by Fleur Beale

  It was Friday the next day and Charity and Damaris were full of The Meet. ‘How come you’re not getting betrothed too?’ I asked Charity.

  ‘I have asked for an extra year before I am married,’ she said. ‘We are permitted to do that.’

  Damaris giggled. ‘That is because she thought she might have to marry Eli.’

  Charity shook her head. ‘No it is not. Do not be unkind, Damaris.’

  ‘So why, then?’ I asked. The rest of them seemed all-fired keen on getting hitched as soon as they could.

  ‘Jonas and I have discussed it, and we both prefer to marry when we are older.’

  Seventeen was older? What if she still didn’t want to get married when she was seventeen?

  Mrs Fletcher asked to see me, and Beulah caught me as I was on my way to her office. ‘You should be in class,’ she said, giving me the evils.

  ‘So should you.’

  ‘I have been to the dentist,’ she said. ‘What is your excuse?’

  ‘I’m going to the doctor. For an abortion.’ That shut her up. She went an ugly pink and flounced off with her drippy uniform dragging round her ankles. If she told Uncle Caleb, then I’d deny it and he just might believe me and then she would get prayed over. Cow. Unholy cow.

  Mrs Fletcher gave me a hug and then held onto my shoulders and looked hard at me. ‘How’s it all going?’

  So I told her everything from Zillah to Daniel to Damaris and Beulah. It made me realise how much I missed being able to rabbit on to my friends and to Mum. Especially Mum.

  ‘Have you found anything out about Mum?’ I asked.

  She didn’t answer straight away and I sat up, staring at her. ‘What’s wrong? Mrs Fletcher, you have to tell me, what’s wrong?’

  She patted my arm. ‘Nothing’s wrong, Kirby. Calm down. It’s just that things aren’t quite right either.’ She sat back in her chair, her eyes on my face. ‘I haven’t been able to find any trace of your mother, my dear. One of the organisations said she’d been on their list of nurses who had applied to go and work in refugee camps but that she hadn’t actually gone.’

  I stared at her. ‘But she wrote to me! I had a letter. An airmail letter with a Z in the postmark. Look, I’ll show you!’ I carried it with me everywhere. I scrabbled in my bag and held it out.

  Mrs Fletcher read the letter, turned it over and examined the postmark. ‘Kirby — I think that Z is the Z in New Zealand.’

  ‘But she’s in Africa!’

  Mrs Fletcher took hold of both my hands firmly. ‘Listen, Kirby. I think she meant to go to Africa, but as far as I can tell, she isn’t there.’ She gave my hands a little shake. ‘She must be somewhere, and we’ll find her. Don’t worry.’

  I couldn’t take in what she was saying. I felt weak and dizzy and sick. If she wasn’t in Africa, where was she? And why?

  ‘But the letter,’ I whispered again. ‘She says the people are dedicated and the conditions are appalling. She is there. She is!’ But even as I said it, I felt hollow with doubt.

  ‘Anybody could have written those things,’ Mrs Fletcher said gently.

  ‘But why?’ I felt like the words were torn out of my heart. ‘She loves me! Why would she try to hide from me?’

  ‘We’ll find her. It’s not so easy to disappear.’

  ‘Unless she’s dead.’ I had to say it.

  ‘I think you’d have heard if she’d died,’ Mrs Fletcher said. She looked as if she was going to say something else, but when she didn’t I just shook my head. No energy left to argue and plead. I was made of cotton wool, an unreal child to be endured.

  Somebody knocked urgently on Mrs Fletcher’s door. Somewhere, a million miles from me I could hear her talking to a boy whose words tripped over themselves. Then she was shaking my shoulder. ‘I have to go. Another crisis. I’ll keep working on it, Kirby. Stay here as long as you need.’

  But I didn’t want to sit there by myself with questions I couldn’t answer whizzing round in my head.

  I went back to class. It was cooking even though it said Food Technology on my timetable. I tried to think about other things. Like Uncle Caleb choosing my options for me — as if I didn’t get enough cooking experience already. Would he know if I swapped to Graphics? Dumb question. Ira was doing graphics and Ira was more poisonous than Beulah. The Elders loved him. I walked into the cooking room and I must’ve looked bad because Mrs East didn’t even ask me for a late note. She just gave me a sharp glance, then sent me off to help Charity, Damaris and another girl make something that involved melting butter and sugar together.

  ‘Esther!’

  I jumped. Oh my God! I’d set the ring on fire! Mrs East grabbed a fire extinguisher and doused it. I leaned on the sink and laughed, turned around so my back was against it and slid down the cupboards until I was sitting on the floor, my arms wrapped round my knees and I laughed and laughed. Great gasps of laughter that hurt my chest and my throat.

  Mrs East threw a glass of cold water in my face. I heard her telling somebody to go for Mrs Fletcher. Then Charity and Damaris were beside me, hauling me to my feet. I remember Mrs Fletcher coming but I was so tired. She took me to the sick bay and I slept through most of the day. She came and sat on my bed in the afternoon.

  ‘I think it’s time to get you out of there,’ she said.

  I sat up. ‘No! I do not want to leave. Not yet. Daniel … and I want to tell Maggie … and the twins.’ I couldn’t leave. I’d be nobody. A nothing. Not Esther and not Kirby. And I’d have nobody. No Maggie, no family. No mother.

  She looked at me, her face serious. ‘Take another week, if you want. But ask yourself this: who are you — Esther or Kirby?’

  I flopped down away from her and put my arm over my face. Could she see into my mind? ‘I am Kirby. I am not Esther.’ Somebody else was saying that. Somebody who didn’t believe the words coming out of her mouth. Mrs Fletcher didn’t believe them either. She stroked the hair away from my face just the way Mum would have done.

  ‘No?’ she asked. ‘Since when did Kirby speak like that? Kirby would’ve said, I’m and I’m not.’ She stood up. ‘Don’t leave it too long, Kirby. And remember, I’m here if you need me.’

  Damaris and Charity came to collect me when the last bell went. ‘Are you well?’ Charity asked, anxious.

  I nodded. ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ They were both staring at me and their faces were worried. I took a deep breath. ‘Mrs Fletcher told me that …’ I stopped. Tried again. ‘She said she hasn’t been able to trace my mother. I’m worried about her. I don’t know where she is.’

  Damaris hugged me — and that was against the Rule. ‘We will pray for her.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I muttered. I wished I could tell them everything. I wished I could talk about Mum and I wished I could tell them I was feeling torn in two, that Esther was sometimes more real than Kirby and how much that frightened me.

  I collected Maggie and the boys from school and their chatter made me feel more like myself again — but which self, I wasn’t quite sure.

  I longed to talk to Daniel about Mum, but he wasn’t home. ‘You look funny, Esther,’ said Rachel. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Are you going to die?’ asked Maggie.

  I poured her a drink of lemon cordial from the jug the twins had put on the table. They all watched me, and not one of them touched the food in front of them, not even Abraham. I sat down. ‘I am upset,’ I said carefully. ‘I found out today that my mother didn’t go to Africa like she said she was.’

  ‘She told a lie?’ Abraham’s eyes sparkled at the thought of an adult doing something that wicked.

  Rebecca waved a hand at him to shush him. ‘Do you know where she is?’

  I shook my head. Maggie threw herself into my lap and flung her arms round my neck. ‘Do not cry, Esther!’

  ‘But she wrote to Father,’ Rachel said, frowning.

  ‘You can’t ask him,’ said Abraham, reaching for a biscuit. ‘He’d go ape.’

  Neither of the twins
corrected his language. ‘What will you do?’ Rebecca asked.

  ‘I want to find her,’ I said.

  ‘Will you go away? Do not go away!’ Maggie and Luke spoke together.

  I hugged Maggie gently. ‘I will have to.’ I looked at the twins and Abraham and Luke. ‘I can’t stay here. I’ve got to find my mother and …’ I stopped. How could I tell them I had to find myself before it was too late and I vanished, worn away under a welter of prayers, rules and restrictions.

  ‘Don’t go!’ Maggie sobbed. ‘Don’t die!’

  I tightened my arms round her. ‘When I go,’ I told the twins, ‘you have to talk to her about it. Remind her I’m not dead. Tell her Miriam’s not dead.’ They didn’t say anything. ‘Promise!’ I shouted.

  ‘It is against the Rule,’ Rachel said at last.

  I jumped up, Maggie still clinging to me and I stared down at them. ‘So break it! It’s wicked! She’s too little to understand. Your father doesn’t have to know.’

  The twins turned from me and looked at each other. Finally Rebecca said, ‘We will think about it, Esther. That is all we can promise. It will grieve the Lord and it will grieve our parents if we break the Rule.’

  With an effort I sat down again. It wasn’t their fault. ‘Thank you,’ I muttered, trying to smile.

  The next day, the girls and I had to clean the house so well it’s a wonder it didn’t fall down. Windows, ceilings, door-frames, skirting boards, the whole darned lot. And why? Because the bloody men had decided that’s what had to be done before every Meet. The only good thing about it was it stopped my mind endlessly worrying about Mum.

  While we cleaned, Uncle Caleb disappeared into his study and Daniel sat with Abraham and Luke and took them for Bible study.

  ‘Don’t let it strain your brain,’ I said, letting water drip on his head as I swiped the mop at the ceiling.

  ‘This is the Rule,’ he answered in a flat voice.

  ‘Sorry,’ I muttered, and got a quick half-smile in return.

  Then something totally out of the ordinary happened. There was a knock on the door. Normally, when another member of the faith came to the house, they came straight in and called out, ‘Praise the Lord’.

  Nobody knocked on the door.

  ‘I will get Father,’ Abraham said. Any excuse to escape from Bible study.

  ‘Don’t bother,’ I said. ‘It’ll just be somebody selling something. I’ll tell them to go away.’ Daniel was talking as I walked to the door, but I didn’t really listen.

  I opened the door and a guy was standing there. ‘We don’t want any, thanks,’ I said.

  He grinned. ‘I’m not selling. I’m looking for Kirby Greenland.’

  I gasped, but before I could answer, Uncle Caleb was beside me and saying, ‘Go into the house, Esther.’

  ‘But Uncle … that’s me! He’s asking for me!’ I whirled round to the man, ‘Is it Mum? You know something about my mother?’

  ‘Go inside, Esther,’ my uncle said again. ‘I will deal with this.’ He stepped between us so that I couldn’t see the man and he stood there, his eyes boring through me.

  ‘Uncle Caleb, please!’ I whispered.

  Daniel had come to the door. ‘Father, with your permission, I will escort Esther into the house. We will study the Scripture together for an hour.’

  After about ten seconds, Uncle Caleb nodded. ‘Thank you, Daniel. Will you also explain to your sister the impropriety of answering the door herself?’

  ‘Yes, Father.’

  Daniel stood back and motioned with his arm for me to go back into the house. He frowned and gave his head a tiny shake when I opened my mouth to protest. So I shut it again and went inside. It was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life. That man knew something about my mother and Uncle Caleb wouldn’t tell me, not even if hell froze over. Especially not then.

  ‘Wow!’ Abraham whispered. ‘I bet you’re for the discipline room tomorrow!’

  Daniel pulled out a chair for me at the table. ‘Do you think,’ he said to Abraham, ‘that your words were seemly?’

  Abraham grinned. ‘No, but Father can’t put us both in the discipline room.’

  ‘I think,’ said Daniel, ‘that some discipline is needed for you right now. You will clean the windows in our bedroom. Go now, if you please.’

  It wasn’t really a punishment. We all knew Abraham would far rather do something active than sit around studying scripture. ‘Girls’ work!’ he said, but he went off cheerfully enough. Luke sighed, but stayed where he was.

  Daniel then explained to me about answering the door. ‘A woman never answers a knock on the door. It is not seemly. She has no way of knowing what she may be exposing herself or her family to.’

  ‘Thank you, Daniel. I understand now.’ We both spoke in flat voices, saying words we didn’t mean. Our eyes asked questions neither of us knew answers to.

  Uncle Caleb came back inside. Daniel kicked my foot. I jumped up and bowed my head. ‘Uncle Caleb, please excuse my transgression. I did not understand that I was breaking the Rule.’ Who was he? Did he have news about Mum? I’d taken the breath to ask, when Daniel’s hand clenched on my wrist.

  ‘Your transgression is excused, Esther. We will pray tonight for forgiveness. And in the meantime, please continue your housework.’ He marched off to the study.

  ‘You were supposed to read with us for an hour,’ Luke said accusingly.

  Daniel smiled at him, but when he spoke, the words were for me. ‘I think our father has things on his mind.’

  That night I had dreams about Mum. She was walking across a desert and she was thirsty. I remember that I woke up, crying. Then the next thing I knew Uncle Caleb was standing beside my bed calling my name. ‘Esther! Wake up. It is time to get up and prepare the food for The Meet.’

  Bloody hell, it was only five o’clock. I slid down from the bunk, careful not to say anything or do anything that would get me shut in the discipline room for the day. I’d had time to realise that it was only because Daniel had come to my rescue yesterday that I was free now.

  However, I didn’t totally get away with yesterday. Uncle Caleb came and sat in the kitchen all the time I was cooking and he read bits of the Bible at me. He ranted at me about the Rule.

  ‘Yes, Uncle Caleb,’ I said and chopped viciously at an apple.

  ‘Praise the Lord,’ I said, thumping down on the pastry for the apple shortcake. Tell me what that man wanted. Tell me about my mother.

  Not a word. Of course. What did I expect?

  At seven o’clock, I woke the children. By eight o’clock, we were all packed into the car — a white Toyota — along with the shortcakes and salads. The dishes were done, the beds made, the house immaculate. Holy cow. Mum would never believe it. Was she still alive? Uncle Caleb must tell me if she wasn’t. Surely?

  The twins kept bouncing around, glancing at Daniel. He was driving and his face was white and strained. Today he would have to agree to marry Damaris, or … what?

  Could we run away together? What about Maggie? The twins? Who would take the boys to the park?

  And Aunt Naomi. If Daniel got chucked out today, she’d never see him again. Zillah would never know she had a sister called Miriam and a brother called Daniel. Or that once, for a little while, there had lived in their family a girl called … what? Esther? Kirby?

  My fingers tightened on the salad bowl. Kirby. If I had to choose today as well, then I would choose to be Kirby.

  We arrived at the Fellowship Centre. Church. Why didn’t they just call it a church? It was fragrant with flowers and bright with their colours. ‘Would you look after Maggie today?’ I asked the twins.

  ‘Of course,’ said Rebecca. ‘You will be busy in the kitchen.’

  Yeah. I’m a woman so I get to make all the important decisions, like what plate the sliced lamb will go on. There was one good thing about it though, it got me out of the prayer sessions and singing which went on all the morning. There were five of us in the kit
chen — me, Damaris, Charity, Kezia and a little waif called Talitha. Kezia bossed her round: ‘Talitha will set the tables.’ The worst job. ‘Talitha can fill the urn.’ The heaviest job.

  ‘Drop dead, Kezia,’ I said finally. ‘You do the tables. Talitha can arrange the flowers.’

  ‘But Kezia always does them,’ Charity protested.

  ‘Yeah, so why should she grab all the fun jobs and make Talitha do the bum stuff?’ I demanded.

  ‘I do not mind,’ Talitha whispered.

  ‘Well, you should,’ I said. ‘You’ve got just as much right to enjoy life as she has!’

  They stared at me, even Kezia shut her mouth. But Talitha was the first to move. She crept out to the dining hall and started setting the tables. I shrugged. Let her be a door mat. It was nothing to do with me. I was Kirby, not Esther.

  The Meet bit didn’t start until after lunch. I thought we’d miss the first bit while we did mountains of dishes. But there was music coming from the hall and a shuffling, thumping noise. ‘What are they doing?’ I asked.

  Kezia turned up her nose so she could look down it when she answered, ‘Dancing, of course.’

  I didn’t believe it but it was true. I opened the door a crack and there in front of me was a whole hall full of weird people doing what looked horribly like line dancing. I wanted to shriek with laughter, but then I saw Maggie. She was between Daniel and Abraham, her face was lit up like a Christmas tree and she was biting her bottom lip she was concentrating so hard. Then I wanted to cry. Poor bloody little kid. Today for sure, she was going to lose her big brother.

  I shut the door and went back to the dishes. Damaris was washing but it was easy to see her mind wasn’t on the job.

  ‘Damaris! You are not getting these plates clean!’ Kezia scolded.

  Damaris jumped and water sloshed onto her apron. ‘I am sorry! I am finding it difficult to concentrate today!’

  ‘I think you’re crazy!’ I burst out. ‘How can you even think about getting married! You’re not even fourteen! You don’t even get your period yet!’