by Fleur Beale
I hugged her, scarcely believing she’d spoken so sharply of our leader.
RACHEL CAME TO OUR HOUSE every day that week. Mother fussed over her because she wasn’t eating. I knew the baby wasn’t the reason. Every time she looked at me, her eyes filled with tears.
‘Please don’t cry,’ I said when Saul came to pick her up on Saturday — the day before the wedding. ‘I’ll be all right. Think of your baby. Try to be happy.’
She wrapped her arms tight around me. ‘I’ll always love you. You’ll still be my sister, whatever you do, wherever you go. I’ll always pray for you.’
I wanted to weep my heart out. My beloved sister was telling me she loved me enough to break the Rule. She was telling me to run.
Thirty
The Rule
Do not put trust in worldly organisations. They are godless and evil.
THERE WAS ONE WHOLE NIGHT left in which to act, to do something to save myself. I spent the night sitting up as I’d spent many others, trying to make myself walk out of the house. My plan was simple — run to the neighbours, the ones with the beautiful garden, bang on their door and ask them to ring the police for me. The police weren’t evil, despite what Elder Stephen preached about them. They’d helped Miriam. I knew they had, because Esther found out and told us.
They would help me if only I had the courage to ask.
The morning came, and I was still in my own bed.
At breakfast, I pushed my food away. Abraham thumped his cutlery against his plate. Luke ate very little. Magdalene moved her chair close to mine. Tears kept running down her face. Zillah grizzled about going to the nursery. ‘I don’t like it without Rebecca.’
I put on the plain petticoat and the plain dress. Mother brushed my hair before plaiting it into the customary single braid. She handed me the white shoes that had pinched Rachel’s feet. I put them on and, like Rachel, I didn’t tell her they hurt.
When my veil was in place, she led me into the lounge. ‘Wait here. I will send the children in to keep you company as soon as they are ready.’
‘Praise the Lord.’
That was Elder Hosea’s voice. What was he doing here at this time on a Sunday morning? For one wild moment I let myself hope he’d come to tell me the wedding was off.
I heard him speak to Father. ‘Elder Stephen has given me the honour of driving his bride to the Temple of Fellowship. I will wait with her. You may all leave at the normal time.’
He had been sent to guard me.
The children came to say goodbye after Mother had checked they were ready. Abraham couldn’t look at me. His eyes were red. So were Luke’s. Magdalene was still crying. Zillah kicked a chair. ‘I don’t want to go to the nursery.’
My parents came in. Mother kissed my forehead. Father blessed me. There was another hour to wait before the start of the wedding service. I stood at the window, watching my family drive away. Elder Hosea had left his car on the road. There was somebody else at the wheel — another Elder, probably.
Elder Hosea’s voice broke the silence. ‘Sister Rebecca, show me your petticoat.’
I whirled around to stare at him. ‘You want to look at my underwear? No, Elder Hosea, you may not see it. I will not behave in such an immodest and unseemly manner. Especially on my wedding day.’
‘It is for your own good. It is a sin to disobey the Rule concerning plain clothing.’ He took a step towards me.
‘Stay away! Do not come near me! My clothing is a matter for my husband if he believes it unseemly.’ How dare he! How could Elder Stephen humiliate me like this?
My fury had an effect. Elder Hosea perched his skinny body on the hardest chair in the room. ‘The shoes you are wearing are inappropriate, Sister Rebecca. Change into your usual ones.’
This was ridiculous. No girl had ever worn black lace-ups with her wedding dress. Black socks too. ‘Is this Elder Stephen’s wish?’
‘It is.’
‘Then I will obey.’ Black lace-ups would be better to run in.
Just like that, the decision was made. I would save myself if I possibly could.
Elder Hosea stood up, no doubt intending to come with me into my bedroom.
‘Stay where you are.’
‘I will come with you.’
‘No. You will not. I am perfectly able to put my own shoes on my own feet.’
We glared at each other. I’d be in such big trouble with Elder Stephen after this.
Lord, help me get away.
He resumed his seat. I went to the bedroom to do as he commanded. Even without a mirror, I knew how ridiculous I looked. I didn’t care.
Instead of returning to the lounge, I went to the kitchen to write a note for Mother on the paper she kept for shopping lists.
‘What are you doing? You are to wait in the lounge.’
I refused to look at him. ‘I’m writing a note for my mother. She will want to know why I chose not to wear the shoes she’d carefully saved all the years since her own wedding.’
He waited until I’d finished writing. ‘I will read it.’
‘No. You will not. It has nothing to do with you.’
‘Your behaviour is most unseemly, Sister Rebecca.’
There was so much I could have said in reply. I didn’t bother. We went back to the lounge.
‘I will pray for you.’ He made it into a threat.
‘Do it in silence. I wish to make my own prayers.’
I did pray. I prayed for the Lord to help me escape from this evil man, and from the marriage that would bind me in chains. Mostly, though, I used the time to work out when to run, and how to go about getting away from him and the man in the car.
IT WAS TIME TO GO.
Elder Hosea opened the front door for me, but reached to hold my arm as he closed it.
‘Let go of me!’ I wrenched my arm away, put both hands on his chest and shoved with every scrap of my strength.
He teetered, then fell into the rosemary bush beside the steps — but I was off and running. I heard him shouting, saw the other man scramble from the car. I swerved off the path, cut across the lawn and cleared the fence in a leap that snagged my petticoat. I tore it free, running for my life.
Their footsteps thundered behind me.
‘Help me! Please help me!’ I screamed, running and running as the men of the Faith pursued me.
A neighbour flung his door open. ‘What the …? What’s going on?’
‘Help me! Please help me!’
He ran towards me, his hand out. ‘Come inside. Quickly now.’ He pushed me through the door, slamming it just as the Elders reached it.
‘Open up at once! Come out, you wicked girl!’ I recognised Elder Asa’s voice.
‘Now who could resist an invitation like that?’ the neighbour said, securing the door with the safety chain. He held my arm to steady me, calling to his wife, ‘Franny! C’m here!’
The woman I’d sometimes seen in her garden appeared at the end of the hallway. ‘Heavens! What’s the matter? You’re the girl from up the road, aren’t you?’ She hurried forward, stopping abruptly when she saw what I was wearing. ‘Please tell me that’s not a wedding dress.’
I nodded, tried to talk, but my heart was thumping too hard. It seemed to be choking my throat.
The man led me into the kitchen. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe now. Tell us how we can help.’
‘You’re running away from your wedding?’ the woman said. ‘How old are you? Sixteen! Holy hell! Listen, they can’t force you to marry if you don’t want to.’
They didn’t understand. I got my voice working. ‘Please, can I ring the police?’
‘Sheesh!’ said the man. ‘Is it that bad?’
‘Yes. Elder Hosea will be calling for more men to come.’
The man got up. ‘I’ll make sure all the doors are locked.’ He tossed a phone to his wife. ‘Ring the police for her, Franny.’
She dialled the emergency number. Esther had done that when she’d called the ambulance and
saved Mother and Zillah.
‘Police please.’ Franny listened for a couple of seconds. ‘Well, I don’t rightly understand quite what the emergency is, but my sixteen-year-old neighbour has just rushed to our house asking for help. She’s wearing the world’s worst wedding dress, she’s scared out of her mind and men are chasing her.’ She waited again, then said to me, ‘They want to know if your family can help you?’
‘No. The Elders won’t let them. They sent them away.’ It was too hard to even begin to explain the whole mess.
‘Okay. Yes, we’ll batten down the hatches till somebody gets here. Thanks.’ She put the phone down on the table. ‘They’re sending a car. Should be here in about ten.’
I thought I would pass out. Ten minutes would give Elder Hosea time to ring for all the help he could get. I was very sure he wouldn’t have come without bringing a phone with him.
The man said, ‘Hold up, kid. We won’t let them get you.’
His wife headed out of the room. ‘I’ll wake up the troops. It could be useful to have a show of muscle around.’
A minute later she came back, followed by two teenage boys. The tallest one’s head almost touched the top of the door frame.
The man asked me, ‘Tea or coffee — and by the way, what’s your name?’
‘I am Rebecca. Rebecca Pilgrim. Tea. Thank you, sir.’ I wouldn’t be able to drink it. I’d never tried coffee.
‘Hey, enough of the sir! Call me Tom.’
Renewed hammering started on the front door. Tom got to his feet. ‘I’ll answer it, but don’t worry, I’ll keep the chain on.’
‘I’ll go, Dad.’ The tall boy rubbed his hands.
Tom grinned. ‘This could be entertaining. Drink your tea, Rebecca, and listen.’
Entertaining for them, but not for me.
I heard the boy say, ‘Yeah? What’s up?’
‘Let me in.’ Elder Hosea.
‘In your dreams,’ the boy said.
‘Do as you’re told, boy.’
‘Not likely, daddy-o. You’re rude and you’re ugly. Bug off.’ The door snapped shut.
His parents were grinning.
‘Others will come. Elder Stephen and the others.’
I have no idea what I sounded like or what they saw in my face — whatever it was, they stopped smiling, even the boys.
Franny knelt down beside me. ‘Rebecca, we’ll keep you safe. The police will be here soon. Don’t be frightened.’
I was terrified.
We heard more cars out on the street. It wasn’t the police.
Tom went over to the window and looked out. ‘Two cars. Eight old buzzards, all wearing black and looking grim. You sure did the right thing to run away, Rebecca.’
The sons were looking out the window too. ‘Who’s the creepy old dude leading the charge, Rebecca?’
It had to be Elder Stephen. ‘It’s the man I was supposed to marry.’
Their shocked silence said more than enough. Tom put his hand on my shoulder. ‘I’m sorry, my dear. We’ve been treating this too lightly.’
When the Elders’ knock sounded on the door, he went to answer it, speaking through the opening left by the security chain. ‘You’re not coming in. Get off my property. The police are on their way.’
Elder Stephen’s voice carried through the crack in the door. ‘Sister Rebecca, for the sake of your immortal soul, I command you to leave this ungodly house. Repent. Pray for the Lord in His mercy to pardon your transgression.’
Tom said, ‘You’re out of your tiny mind and clean off your rocker. Get off my property!’ The door clicked shut.
The Elders didn’t go, as I’d known they wouldn’t. They were still there when the police arrived.
Tom went out to meet them, his sons beside him.
I couldn’t hear what was said, but soon enough Tom came back with two policemen — except that one of them was a woman.
‘Hello,’ she said, sitting down beside me. ‘Rebecca, is it? I’m Hazel. What’s the story?’
How could I even begin to explain? I opted for simplicity. ‘I’m meant to marry Elder Stephen. He’s seventy-six. He said the Lord wanted him to take me as his wife. He’s our leader. If we don’t obey Him, he says our immortal souls will be eternally damned.’
The policewoman stood up. ‘Right. I get the picture. Brainwashing. Coercion. What about your family? Will they be okay?’
‘I don’t know. I hope so. They’re good people. I love them.’ I was aware of looks being exchanged above my head.
‘Wait here a sec,’ the other officer said. ‘We’ll see that lot off the property before we take you to the car. We’ll get their names too.’
Some minutes later, they came back.
‘Thank you,’ I said to the neighbours as the police officers led me to the waiting car. ‘Thank you for helping me.’
The policewoman looked at me. ‘You sure about this, Rebecca? Do you want us to take you back to your family?’
‘I can’t go back. I’m dead to them now.’
Thirty-one
The Rule has gone from my life.
THE POLICE WERE GOOD at finding things out. Hazel, the policewoman, asked me if I had anywhere to go.
‘My brother and sister are in Wellington. My cousin as well.’ I told her their names. ‘I think they went to a worldly relative, but I don’t know their name.’
Worldly. I was worldly now.
Hazel said, ‘I’ll see if there’s anyone by the name of Pilgrim in the Wellington phone book. Wait here, honey. I’ll be back in a tick.’ She returned soon, pressing numbers into the phone while she said, ‘Four Pilgrims in the Wellington area. The phone’s on speaker so you can hear too. Hello? Can you help me? I’m wanting to speak to Daniel or Miriam Pilgrim, or a girl called Kirby.’
‘No one here by those names, sorry.’
I was losing hope by the time she tried the fourth number and a man’s voice answered.
‘Daniel Pilgrim speaking.’
‘Daniel! It’s me, Rebecca!’
Much of the rest of the conversation was lost to me, because I couldn’t stop crying. I did, though, hear him say, ‘Tell her everything will be all right. We’ll book her a plane ticket immediately. Tell her we love her.’
Hazel finished the call. ‘Rebecca, we’d like you to tell us about the Children of the Faith. Don’t leave anything out. Not a single detail. Will you do it?’
I nodded. I was too tired to wonder why she’d asked. She squeezed my shoulder. ‘Hang in there. I’ll bring you a cuppa.’
To speak about the Children of the Faith to worldly people is to take a step along the pathway to eternal damnation.
What did it matter? If Elder Stephen preached the truth, then I was dead and damned already.
When Hazel came back, she brought tea, sandwiches and two uniformed policemen. Their names didn’t stay in my mind but their eyes were kind. ‘Tell us about the religion,’ they said.
But I didn’t know how. I couldn’t think what they might want to know or why they wanted to know it.
Hazel said, ‘Start with Elder Stephen. You left it pretty late to run away. Talk about all that.’
I found it easy enough to tell them about him. They asked questions. ‘Did he touch you? Is that why you were frightened of him?’
I shook my head. I didn’t understand why they appeared worried that he had. But their questions seemed to set my voice free, and for the first time in my life I spoke to worldly people about the Children of the Faith, the Rule and the Elders, even though damnation might be waiting to consume me.
They wrote it all down. They asked more questions. ‘What was the name of the man you were supposed to marry? Has anyone else other than Malachi run away? Kezia? What is her full name? Why did she run?’
‘They made her marry a man without honour. She had a baby. One day she disappeared and I found her under a tree with a knife in her hand.’ I told them about Mrs Lipscombe, and that reminded me of Nurse Katherine. May the Lo
rd forgive me, but I told them what she’d said about Elder Stephen. You watch out for him — he’s a randy old goat. Eighteen children, not eight.
I thought the questions were over, but Hazel asked one more. ‘This Ira — why do you say he’s a man without honour?’
I told them about his lies. ‘We found out later he’d used the time to look at worldly magazines.’
The older officer asked, ‘What sort of work does he do?’
‘He works in Elder Stephen’s office. He does the accounts on the computer.’
When the questions were done with, Hazel patted my hand. ‘I’ve finally worked out why you look so familiar. You and your twin sister — you were the girls at the market.’
Yes, that was us, long ago and in a different life.
THE TWO POLICE OFFICERS took me to the airport in the afternoon. I was worried the Elders would be there, but there was no sign of them. I’d never seen an airport before, but Hazel reassured me she wouldn’t leave me on my own, and helped me get my ticket. She stayed with me till it was time to go.
I knew people were looking at me, at my clothes, and whispering as Hazel walked me to the gate. Maybe the police had told the airline crew about me, because they were kind. ‘You’ve got a window seat,’ a uniformed woman told me. ‘It’s a clear day — you’ll get a good view.’
A girl a bit older than me sat in the seat beside mine. She gave me a grin, took two magazines from her bag and held one out to me. ‘Want to read it?’
I shook my head. ‘Thank you but I want to look out the window.’
‘Ever flown before?’
‘No. This is the first time.’
She glanced at my dress. ‘Figures. Don’t worry if we hit a few bumps. It can be a bit interesting flying into Wellington.’
I smiled at her, but she’d opened her magazine. I wasn’t afraid of bumps or damnation. I was too tired to care.
WE DID HIT BUMPS, but we landed safely. I followed the girl with the magazines from the plane and across the tarmac. My skirt and plait blew sideways in the wind.