I am Rebecca

by Fleur Beale

  She shook her head. ‘I can’t. I’m too scared.’

  A customer was heading our way. ‘I’ll tell him myself if you don’t. You’ve got five minutes and then I tell him.’

  I heard her moan as I shut the door. I served a woman who wanted six dozen eggs, then another who wanted two chickens. ‘No chemicals? No antibiotics?’ she asked. ‘These really are organic?’

  ‘They really are,’ I said as I handed her the pamphlet about the community’s organic farms.

  Saul came back with a bottle of water. Rachel slid out of the truck, thanked him, then whispered that she’d like to go to the bathroom. He was so concerned about her that he forgot to ask Mrs Lipscombe to keep an eye on our stall.

  Several more customers had bought eggs by the time they returned. My sister was looking even paler than before, but she was smiling and Saul was holding her arm to support her. He gave me a grin. ‘Who knew it? A walk to the bathroom is an excellent cure for sick stomachs.’

  We couldn’t say more — customers arrived in a bunch, and then another lot before we’d served all of the first. During a lull in the rush, I said, ‘I wish you well. Both of you.’

  Saul leaned out of the cab. ‘We have your blessing, Sister Rebecca?’ He was teasing me, but I didn’t mind. He would be a good husband for my sister. I shut my mind to the question of who would choose me. Maybe none of them would. Talitha might not get her wish to remain unmarried.

  I put off going to the bathroom for as long as I could. It was selfish, but I didn’t want Saul strolling along beside me — he was happy. The girl he’d chosen wanted him too. He could have no idea about the dark weight hanging over me.

  But I could wait no longer, and eventually asked him to accompany me. He had the tact to stay quiet while we walked, but when we got to the bathrooms, he said, ‘Sister Rebecca, I have a message for you.’

  ‘Oh?’ Then I understood. It could only be from one of the other young men. ‘Oh. Tell me. Please.’

  ‘Brother Malachi sends you his good wishes. He says to tell you he wishes you well.’

  ‘Oh. Thank you.’

  I scuttled off out of his sight, my mind tumbling and whirling. This was real. A message like that — it meant Malachi had chosen me. I sat down shakily on the toilet seat. Malachi. Yes, I could imagine myself as his wife. He worked for Brother Demas on the organic farm but everyone knew it was Malachi who had the knowledge, who did the study.

  You will be a wife, I told myself. Your husband will be Brother Malachi Goodman and you will be Sister Rebecca Goodman.

  Saying it didn’t make it any more real.

  I went outside into the sunshine. Saul shrugged himself away from the post he’d been leaning against. ‘You okay, Sister Rebecca?’

  ‘Yes. Thank you. Just a little …’

  He nodded. ‘I understand, but do you have a message for Malachi? He’ll be chewing his fingernails too, waiting to hear from you.’

  Why hadn’t I worked out what to say? Saul had given me the chance to think. I rubbed my face. ‘Please tell him … I’m happy to receive his good wishes. Very happy. And tell him I wish him well too.’ I looked at Saul. ‘Is that all right? Is that enough?’

  ‘It is enough. He will understand.’ He smiled at me. ‘You are terrific girls, both of you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.

  We said no more. If an Elder asked any of us if we’d discussed marriage with a prospective partner, we could truthfully say no. But when I got the chance, I whispered to Rachel, ‘Malachi.’

  She squeezed my hand. ‘You’re happy?’

  ‘Relieved, mainly.’ I tried to explain. ‘It all feels so — I don’t know — unreal, but real at the same time.’

  While we were packing up, Saul bought chocolates from Mrs Lipscombe with his own money. ‘We will have a celebration on the way home,’ he said. ‘And there is enough here for your brothers and sisters too.’

  He was kind. He’d be a good husband to my sister. I didn’t know Malachi well, but I thought he would be kind too. He was patient when I’d seen him with his small nieces and nephews. That was a good sign.

  Twelve

  The Rule

  No marriage will take place without the permission of the Elders.

  WE COULDN’T PROPERLY be happy about our betrothals until the Elders said they approved. Rachel worried more than I did. I tried to comfort her, and didn’t tell her I thought it was better not to be too attached to a possible partner until everything was settled.

  Once again, we didn’t get a chance to swap news with the other girls till after the next Circle of Fellowship meeting.

  ‘Laban has visited Father,’ Tirzah said, her voice carefully expressionless.

  ‘He’s a good man,’ Rachel said after a moment. ‘He keeps the Rule. He will protect you and care for you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Father is pleased. He smiles at me more often.’

  ‘It’s an honour for your family that he’s chosen you,’ Abigail said. ‘I reckon he would’ve talked to Elder Stephen before he went to see your father. He’d have his blessing already.’

  Tirzah gave her head a shake. ‘Abigail? Rebecca? Rachel? Tell us your news!’

  Rachel went pink. ‘Father hasn’t told us anything. But we think Saul will ask him for me, and Malachi for Rebecca.’

  Abigail tugged at the grass, then let blades of it trickle through her fingers. ‘I haven’t heard a thing. I managed to talk to Talitha, though, and she hasn’t heard either.’

  ‘They should tell us,’ I said. ‘These are our lives. It’s not fair to keep everything secret.’

  It was our custom and could not be changed.

  On Sunday, when we were busy in the kitchen at the temple meeting, Abigail whispered, ‘Barnabas.’

  Drusilla whispered, ‘David.’

  They were happy.

  Tirzah was quiet and sombre. Talitha smiled as she worked.

  THREE MORE WEEKS PASSED. All five of us girls had trouble keeping our minds on our lessons at school. Sister Jerushah was kind to us. Whenever our pens stopped moving, or we stared off into nothing, she would ask us to go and help with the younger children.

  ‘I think she pities us,’ I said to Rachel as we walked home from the bus stop one day. ‘Why does she pity us?’

  ‘Duh!’ Rachel dug her elbow into my side. ‘She’s got a good memory, that’s why. She remembers what this waiting around is like.’

  I shook my head. ‘It’s more than that. She looks sad.’

  ON A SATURDAY EVENING at the end of prayers, Father said, ‘Rebecca, Rachel, come to my study when you have finished your chores.’

  When he’d left the room, Abraham said, ‘Have you been bad?’

  Magdalene sidled close so she could clutch hold of our hands. Luke’s eyes grew large and worried. Zillah echoed, ‘Bad!’

  Mother said, ‘Of course they have not broken the Rule. Your sisters are good girls. They are near betrothal age. Your father wants to speak to them about that.’

  ‘Are you going to get married?’ Luke asked. ‘Will you have to live somewhere else?’

  ‘Please do not get married,’ Magdalene whispered, choking back tears.

  Mother tut-tutted. ‘Goodness! What a fuss! They will not be old enough to marry for two years yet — two years and a few months. Magdalene, stop sniffling. You can help put Zillah to bed.’

  ‘No bed,’ said Zillah.

  I picked her up and tipped her upside down. How wonderful to be young enough to be able to say exactly what was in your mind.

  By the time we’d finished our chores, our nerves were hammering at our stomachs. Mother twitched our aprons straight and patted our cheeks. ‘Stop worrying! You each have a good man. Off you go.’

  But she would describe Laban as a good man. He was truly good, not like Ira who’d only pretended to be godly. But we wanted husbands who could smile as well as uphold the Rule.

  ‘What if he won’t let us marry Saul and Malachi?’ Rache
l said.

  I didn’t answer her. There was only one way to find out — I knocked on the study door.

  Father looked up from his work when we entered. ‘Sit down, daughters.’

  This was unusual. We’d never been asked to sit in this room before.

  ‘Rebecca, Brother Malachi has chosen you for his wife. Are you willing to accept him for your husband?’

  ‘Yes, Father. He is a good man. Praise the Lord.’

  ‘Rachel, Brother Saul asks for you. Are you willing to accept him for your husband?’

  ‘Yes, Father. He is a good man. Praise the Lord.’

  Father moved slightly in his chair but stayed silent for several moments. Surely he would give his blessing, surely he would say yes to Saul and Malachi.

  Our nerves were about to kill us when he said, ‘Very well. I will speak to the Elders. If they believe these marriages will benefit the community, they will approve the betrothals.’

  ‘Thank you, Father.’

  ‘You are good girls.’ We waited for him to say we could go, but he seemed lost in his thoughts. Just as I was wondering whether to cough to bring his attention back, he said, ‘I bow to the will of the Lord. Kneel down, my daughters. We will pray.’

  He prayed for us to be good, obedient wives who upheld the Rule. He didn’t know we were thanking the Lord for guiding Saul and Malachi to choose us.

  That night, after Magdalene and Zillah were asleep, Rachel whispered, ‘He wanted Laban to marry one of us. I’m sure of it.’

  I shivered. ‘I think so too. It would’ve been an honour for our family. I reckon Elder Stephen wants Laban to be leader after him.’

  Rachel giggled. ‘Elder Stephen’s pretty ancient — he might die tomorrow. The community wouldn’t want an eighteen-year-old.’

  I wouldn’t want it either. ‘Elder Stephen must be about seventy. He could last for another twenty years.’

  We buried our laughter in the bedclothes. It was so disrespectful to speak of our leader in such a way. I hoped it was the stress we’d been under that made us do so.

  Thirteen

  The Rule

  Illness is a sign of sin. Do not seek to alleviate pain. It is in suffering pain that the soul will be cleansed of sin.

  RACHEL AND I TURNED FOURTEEN at the end of June. We were now of betrothal age. Kezia, whose sixteenth birthday was a fortnight after ours, was now old enough to marry Ira.

  The wedding was to take place at the July Meet when our betrothal ceremonies would also be conducted. It was a departure from custom to have both ceremonies at once. It looked like the Elders wanted Ira safely married before he could get up to more mischief.

  It was an after-school duty for us kitchen girls to help Kezia make curtains and bed covers for the house she and Ira would live in. She ordered us around, being especially bossy to Talitha. But Talitha didn’t complain — not even when Kezia made her completely redo the stitching on a quilt. The rest of us held our tongues too. It was plain to see Kezia wasn’t happy about her marriage. If yelling at us helped her, we would let her yell all she wanted to.

  We tried to distract her by talking about anything we could think of except marriage. We spent one afternoon speaking of Sister Jerushah. ‘She looks ill,’ Tirzah said. ‘Have you noticed, Kezia? She’s pale and drawn these days.’

  Kezia snapped, ‘I’m too busy to notice anything.’

  But the rest of us were truly concerned for our supervisor, and Kezia’s lack of interest didn’t stop us from talking about her. We knew Sister Jerushah would be upset if we hinted she might not be well. The Rule was clear — it was the duty of all of us to be healthy. Illness served only to take our minds away from worshipping the Lord, and it was a sign of sin.

  During those sewing sessions, Rachel did her best to hide her happiness. She was looking forward to being betrothed to Saul. Every Sunday, he made sure it was she who poured him his tea, and he’d smile and whisper some remark that always left her smiling and dreamy.

  Malachi did the same with me. ‘It is good to see you, Sister Rebecca. You pour a mean cup of tea!’ I treasured his lightness of heart. This marriage — it would be all right. I was lucky. He was a man with joy in his soul.

  I COULDN’T DECIDE if the time until the official betrothals was speeding by or dragging — but, either way, the day arrived.

  As always, we got up at five o’clock to help Mother prepare the food. She greeted us with a blessing, then sat us down at the table. ‘First, you will eat.’

  I couldn’t, not with my stomach in knots. But Mother was calm and she made it clear we didn’t have a choice. We both felt better with hot tea and warm porridge inside us.

  ‘Rebecca, you can make a rice salad. Rachel, a dish of roast vegetables.’

  She would have been better working alone — Rachel cut her finger and bled on the vegetables. I dropped a kilo of uncooked rice on the floor.

  Mother didn’t scold us, and she didn’t tell Father what we’d done. At the temple, we went straight to the kitchen. I wished we could have danced with the rest of the community just this once. I didn’t feel safe around crockery. My fingers weren’t reliable today.

  None of us talked — we were too busy concentrating on avoiding disasters. We served the morning tea. Malachi whispered, ‘Courage, Sister Rebecca. We will be good together, you and I.’

  ‘Thank you, Brother Malachi. I am glad … I mean … Oh! Thank you for choosing me!’

  There was no time to say more, but he winked at me as he turned away. I was more settled as we finished in the kitchen and joined the rest of the people to listen to Elder Stephen’s sermon.

  He probably spoke about the duties of a husband and wife. His strong voice was comforting, but I couldn’t concentrate. My thoughts were about being Malachi’s wife. I’d have a husband who cared about how I was feeling, who would comfort me and laugh with me. Together we would create a happy home. I prayed for the Lord to bless us with children.

  The sermon finished, and the men began stacking the chairs against the walls. It was time for Kezia and Ira’s wedding. We joined the rest of the people in forming the marriage circle, leaving the gap for the couple to walk through.

  Ira came in first, his father beside him. No wonder Father hadn’t believed our story about him — he appeared to be such a fine, upright and righteous man. Please Lord, let him be a good husband to Kezia. I tried to keep my own thankfulness out of my mind.

  Elder Stephen came into the circle next, followed by Kezia and her father. A murmur went round the people — the sound of grass in the wind. Everyone’s eyes were fixed on her dress.

  It was modest, as the Rule taught was seemly — plain white with no decoration. But there was nothing in the Rule about how transparent the fabric should be, and nothing about what a petticoat should look like. Kezia’s petticoat was very fancy indeed. We could see the outline of the lace pattern, the shimmer of crystals, and even a slight tinge of pink from a ribbon threaded through the lace.

  Such defiance! Her mother must have helped her — did her father know? I had to fight not to laugh.

  Kezia conducted herself as the Rule required. She kept her head modestly lowered. Her voice was quiet and respectful as she spoke the vows.

  Elder Stephen didn’t give any sign of displeasure — perhaps he was just pleased to have got Ira married off and so would let her get away with it.

  ‘Brother Ira, Sister Kezia, you are now man and wife,’ he said at last. ‘We will pray to the Lord to bless this union.’

  It was an especially long prayer. I prayed for Kezia’s happiness. Ira probably needed a prayer too, but he could look out for himself.

  ‘Praise the Lord. And now, Brother Ira, you may kiss your wife.’

  Ira bent his head, jabbed a quick kiss on Kezia’s mouth and stepped back. They were both red in the face.

  It was the first time they had touched each other. He held out his arm, she put a hand on it and they went around the circle to receive the good wishes of the
community.

  Then it was time for lunch. There would be more dancing while we six girls got the meal ready to serve. Our betrothals would come after we’d cleared up. Talitha took charge, quietly guiding us. We would have made some horrendous mix-ups if she hadn’t been there.

  At last it was done. Talitha handed out the clean aprons, helped us tie them neatly, checked to make sure each of us was tidy, then she broke the Rule by kissing each of us on our forehead as she wished us well.

  With the warmth of her loving kindness supporting us, we walked out into the temple to take our places with our families.

  We had to wait through the community notices but, finally, it was time for the betrothal ceremony. One by one, the fathers of the young men who would become our husbands took the stage. Elder Hosea, second-in-command to Elder Stephen, conducted the first of the betrothals. ‘Elder Stephen,’ he said, ‘your son Laban is of betrothal age. The Elders believe Tirzah Loyal will make him a fitting wife.’

  These were words we’d heard many times before. So too was Elder Stephen’s response. ‘As is the custom, I ask my son Laban to speak his mind on this betrothal.’

  A memory of what should have been our brother Daniel’s betrothal ceremony was sharp in my mind. All he’d wanted was permission to become a doctor instead of marrying. For that he’d been expelled, damned and deemed to be dead.

  I shook the image away. Laban gave the expected response. ‘Father, brothers and sisters, I hold Tirzah Loyal in high esteem. I know her to be pure in thought and deed. She upholds the Rule, and she is good and kind and seemly. I will be honoured if she will accept me as her husband.’

  Everyone was smiling and nodding. I caught a few murmurs. A fine choice. Tirzah is a good girl. She will be an admirable wife for our leader’s son.

  Elder Hosea spoke again. ‘As is the custom, I ask Brother Matthew if he accepts this marriage for his daughter.’