That made sense, but I was amazed Brenda managed going every day from Pineridge to the outside world with all of its evil and temptation. “Isn’t it hard? To go back and forth from your work to your life here?”
“A little. I like my job, so I feel good when I’m at the office. Here in Pineridge, I have a lot to learn and it’s a little overwhelming sometimes. Plus, I’m alone so much here. Jack is always meeting with the council and I haven’t had many visitors.”
I knew why the other women hadn’t warmed up to her. She was an outsider, and it would take a long time of her living The Principle before she was accepted as one of us. I didn’t say anything as I didn’t want to make her feel worse than she already did, judging from the way her eyes had gotten all shiny and damp.
Brenda stared into her glass of lemonade and then surprised me by asking, “What happens to a woman here in Pineridge if she’s unable to have children?”
I thought of Sister Sherrie, who had only Orton, and Rita Mae, who had so few children. I had never known a woman who had none but I guessed there must have been some. “Well, I don’t know. I guess she would have a hard time being exalted if she couldn’t do her duty to the Lord.”
“Do the sister wives share their children among each other? Can a wife who has none of her own still be like a mother to them?”
I realized then that she was asking about herself. So it was true what Sister Cora had said. Brenda had no children yet because she was unable to. And I knew that must be why she was crying into her sleeve when I arrived. Now I felt bad for having been suspicious of her, even if she did have a can of Coca-Cola hidden away. Poor Brenda! She had no way to fulfill God’s plan for her, no way to help her husband to build his kingdom, to be a jewel in his heavenly crown. She must have felt so useless and unworthy. I patted her arm.
“Once you have a few sister wives, your house will be so busy and full of children you won’t know which end is up!”
This made Brenda cry openly. “Oh, I hope so! That’s why I followed Jack here. He wants a family so badly and it’s been six years we’ve been trying. He tells me now we’ll have the family we’ve always wanted and I have to believe him, I guess.… ”
She seemed so upset, I wanted to cheer her up, to make her feel useful, so I said, “I think you’ve done a lot with the house, Brenda. It looks a whole lot better than it did when Mitch DeLory was here.”
“I’m just curious, Alva. What happened to the family that lived here before us? Your father just said that they left the community, but that seems to be a rare occurrence here in Pineridge. Where did they go?”
Brenda always seemed to ask me hard questions, ones that I had to think about before answering. We weren’t supposed to talk about Mitch DeLory now that he was an apostate, the same way we weren’t supposed to mention Cliff. There were so many things we had to keep silent about. That silence bound us together, like an invisible, unbreakable cord making us strong and able to persevere in the face of persecution. I knew I shouldn’t answer but I felt so sorry for Brenda now that I knew the truth of her situation.
“Mitch DeLory had a disagreement with the prophet and he was ordered to leave,” I said, looking at my fingernails, afraid that the sting and shame of Cliff’s departure would show on my face.
“What kind of disagreement?”
“I don’t know exactly what it was but my father does, since he’s on the council. He told us that Mr. DeLory judged and criticized authority. So his family was reassigned and he left.”
“Reassigned? What is that?”
“When a man is expelled from the community, the prophet assigns his wives to a different husband. Mr. DeLory had four wives and a bunch of children who were given to another man.”
Brenda looked shocked, shaking her head as if to be sure she heard me correctly. “They were given to another man? Like property, like a car or something?”
“Well, a man’s wives are his property in a way. They are bound to him for safekeeping and so that he can lead them to heavenly salvation as their priesthood head. When he falls from favor with the prophet, it isn’t right that their souls should be lost as well.”
“But what about his children? He’s their biological father, he has legal rights to see them.”
“The prophet says that when a woman and her children are reassigned to a righteous man, God changes their blood and their DNA to match their new father to be sure they gain entrance to the celestial kingdom in the afterlife.”
Brenda just stared at me, saying nothing for a long time. Her hand was gripped so tightly on her lemonade glass it looked as if it might break. When she finally spoke, her voice was very soft. “I see. I had no idea.”
I wasn’t sure where the conversation had gone wrong, but I knew I had been there too long and I still had chores at home, so I stood to excuse myself. The sewing and my questions about BYU would have to wait for another day. “I’ll come by soon to help you with your dresses, Brenda.”
“That would be nice, Alva. I enjoy your company.”
I was beginning to like Brenda, even if she was a little different. It was just because she had been living on the outside. In time, she would be just like the rest of us.
When I got home, I felt Cliff’s absence like a heavy stone around my neck. His place at the table was not set. He was not out back with the ax chopping up Pinyon pinewood for the fire. He was not even a topic of conversation or a name mentioned by my siblings or the sister wives. He truly had ceased to exist in our world, and I knew I was not supposed to, but I missed him terribly.
Mama was quiet and subdued as she mashed up the potatoes while Sister Cora pulled a sausage casserole from the oven. “How is Ann Marie doing?” Sister Cora asked.
I knew better than to mention that I had seen Sister Cora at her brother’s house, so I played dumb. “She’s much better, Sister Cora.”
“Good to hear. My brother deserves a quorum of good wives, not windy-headed girls with a lot of crazy ideas.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You can run out back to the mustard green patch and pick up some for dinner, Alva. Hurry up before it gets any later.”
I put on my sweater and went out the back door. The sun had started to go down, casting a magenta hue over the desert. Mustard greens grew wild in a big patch behind our back fence and many families pulled them up to eat, especially near the end of the month when the government-aid checks were running low. As I made my way among the lacy leaves and pale yellow flowers, I saw the familiar sight of Joseph John’s checkered shirt approaching, a cloth sack in hand. My heart sped up. He was here and I could tell him the good news about my cycle! I couldn’t believe my good fortune and silently thanked God for answering my prayers.
“Hi, Alva Jane!” he said with a surprised smile.
I looked around to see if we were indeed alone. “I have to talk to you. So much has happened,” I said.
“I heard about your brother Cliff. My father said he saw him out on the highway. I’m so sorry for you, Alva.”
“We dropped him off yesterday morning. It was awful, watching him walk away alone like that. And I’ve been taking care of Wade Barton’s wife because last week we went to the prophet’s compound, all the council member families—” I stopped short, unsure if I should talk about Sister Ann Marie’s discipline. Joseph John’s father was not on the council; his family had not been invited.
“You went to Uncle Kenton’s? Inside his house?”
“It was a family matter. But I just want to know, when we’re married, if you get sore at me you wouldn’t hit me, would you? I mean, not really hard or a lot?”
Joseph John’s eyes softened and he reached for my hand, checking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He dropped his voice and said, “I know some of the men here do that, Alva, but not in my family. My father has never raised a hand to any of his three wives and he’s taught my brothers and me that we don’t need to use our fists to rule our families. There’s nothing yo
u could do that would ever make me hit you. All I want to do is make you happy to be my wife and to have a lot of children running around.”
I felt a sense of relief wash over me and I fought the impulse to go to Joseph John, to feel his arms slide around me and rest against the safety of his shoulder. “Then you’d best talk to your father right away because I’m no longer a girl. I’ve become a woman now.”
“Your cycle came?”
“Last week. I haven’t told anyone except Leigh Ann.”
Joseph John looked so happy I thought he would jump three feet in the air. “I’m talking to my father tonight!” he said, turning to go toward home empty-handed.
“Wait! Don’t you want any mustard greens?”
We both laughed until we heard Sister Cora’s voice calling me from the back porch. “Alva Jane! What are you up to out there?”
Joseph John ducked and moved away from me. We couldn’t risk having Sister Cora find us alone. I hurried back toward home, hoping that she hadn’t seen us but relieved to know that now Joseph John could talk to his father. It would just be a matter of time until we were married.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE DAYS FOLLOWING CLIFF’S DEPARTURE SEEMED to drag on interminably. It was not just his absence but my own anxiety and impatience, waiting to hear some word from Joseph John. Five days had passed. I endured the daily trip to Wade Barton’s house. Sister Ann Marie’s wounds were healing and she had become docile. She sat silent during our sessions, listening as I read from scripture, no longer struggling to speak. Sister Irene approved of this version of Sister Ann Marie, commenting that the Lord was surely working his healing on her spirit. I prayed that this was true, but I couldn’t help but see her as depressed and broken.
It seemed that both Sister Irene and Wade Barton were paying me extra attention when I was there. I liked it better when Brother Wade was out of the house and Sister Irene would take me to the quiet basement room and leave me alone with Sister Ann Marie. But lately, Brother Wade was often home and he seemed to be finding reasons to talk to me, asking me about my work at the store with Mr. Battle or inquiring after Sister Cora and Sister Emily. Sister Irene asked me about sewing patterns and even offered a new recipe for cooking a corned beef casserole. I made conversation with them but I tried to keep to myself as much as I could.
Once I was married to Joseph John and running my own home as a first wife, I would not have time to do Sister Cora’s bidding. I would have my own family to take care of. But it had been almost a week and there had been no word from him. Maybe his father hadn’t agreed to our marriage? Maybe Joseph John had reconsidered, thinking of all the new faces and people he would be meeting at college? I felt trapped, unable to move forward with anything. I had never wanted something for myself as much as I wanted to marry Joseph John. I had always been happy at home with Mama and the rest of the family, but lately, things had been changing.
Since the disgrace of Cliff’s expulsion, Daddy had not visited Mama’s room, even on her designated night. He complained of being tired and overworked but I knew that his absence from my mother’s bed was a sign of his displeasure that Cliff had embarrassed the family in the eyes of the community and the prophet. Mama did her best to keep sweet, baking special breads that Daddy favored, wearing the emerald green dress that set off her hair so beautifully. But still he stayed away and Mama suffered while Sister Cora gloated about it in a million subtle ways.
I prayed every night that life at home would return to normal but it didn’t at all. It got worse. June drew to a close and on the first of July, the government checks arrived. Sister Cora always made all the sister wives gather around her as she handed them out, just to rub it in that she was a first wife who didn’t rely on government aid.
With the whole family assembled, Daddy suddenly stepped into the doorway beside me, giving my hair a toss. “How’s my Gumdrop doing?” he whispered.
I smiled and squeezed his hand. He stepped into the center of the circle of his wives, cleared his throat, and said, “I have some important news for everyone. I have had a revelation to take another wife and I have discussed it with the prophet who has confirmed it. She is Marcie Barton. I expect you will all welcome her and love her as a sister wife. She is helping us all to reach the fullness of exaltation in the afterlife.”
A new sister wife? Although it was a blessing to bring a new wife into the family it was always an adjustment, too. Room had to be made, she had to learn the ways of the family and how the house ran. Plus, the jealousies ran high as Daddy usually spent more of his limited time with a new wife.
Marcie Barton was fifteen years old and although my father had taken young wives before, this was the first time he would marry a girl I had grown up with. Marcie had sat behind me at the Zion Academy until she’d dropped out of school last year to prepare for marriage. She was taller than average and had a bigger-than-average bosom to match. And Marcie was known to be something of a flirt. She had felt Sister Emily’s ruler on her knuckles more than a few times for talking with boys in the schoolyard.
I thought back to the night of Sister Ann Marie’s discipline and remembered how Daddy’s eyes had lingered over Marcie. And how Marcie had met his stare with an open, confident gaze of her own and a little smile. Although I knew it was evil to think on, I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to have relations with a man my father’s age. The very idea repulsed me.
I looked over to see Mama’s reaction, knowing this could not have come at a worse time for her. She was always plagued with jealousy when a new wife joined the family, afraid of losing her position as the favorite. With Daddy staying away from her bed already, this time it would be even worse. Mama’s smile looked frozen and stiff on her face.
I glanced around the circle of sister wives. Only Sister Cora beamed with satisfaction. Clearly she had been consulted about this marriage beforehand. Marcie was, after all, her niece.
Daddy went on to tell us that the sealing ceremony was to take place within a week. It was settled. As Daddy prepared to leave for the day’s work, I saw my mother approach him. I knew she wanted a private word with him but Daddy rebuffed her, brushing her hand from his arm as if she were a bothersome gnat. I felt a flash of pity and sadness. Mama stood watching his broad back disappear out the front door, then turned to me with a smile. “Alva Jane, would you help me bring down the new embroidered linen from the bedroom? I finished it last night and I’d like to use it for tonight’s dinner.”
I followed her upstairs and once we were in the privacy of our bedroom, Mama’s happy exterior vanished.
“Marcie Barton? She’s just a bundle of evil impulses waiting to be set free! Have you seen the way she looks at men in the community? That girl has no shame. I’ve heard the talk, that she’s been ready for months now!” Mama spat the words out. I tried to calm her down but she would have none of it.
“And don’t think I don’t know your father, Alva Jane. I’ve been married to him for eighteen years and I know the lure of a willing virgin. I was a fourteen-year-old bride myself and your father just can’t get enough of that!”
I felt sick to think of my father in such terms and I wanted more than anything for her to be quiet, but it was not my place to say such a thing to her.
“And she is helping us to reach the fullness of exaltation in the afterlife? She’s going to help us enter the celestial kingdom?” Mama laughed bitterly. But a moment later, her eyes began to tear. Her voice dropped to a whisper as she caught her reflection in the mirror.
“I’ve had twelve children in eighteen years, more than any other sister wife in this family. I should be the one honored for helping us to reach the fullness of exaltation, not some young girl with a fire in her privates!”
With these last words Mama threw herself on the bed, and muffled her sobs in a pillow. I sat beside her, smoothing her hair, trying to comfort her. I had never seen her so undone.
How could my mother, the shining example of The Principle at
work, be reduced to this?
My mother had always seemed to me so confident, so powerful among the sister wives. How could such a woman be brought so low by the arrival of a teenage girl? After eighteen years of marriage, was there really nothing more to Mama than being a jewel in Daddy’s heavenly crown that lost its luster on a husband’s whim or ill temper? The Principle of plural marriage is supposed to be the highest form of fulfillment and satisfaction that a woman can attain; once she is safely ensconced in its protective fold, she will be a queen for all eternity. How many times had my father told me, “Never give up your quest for queendom, Alva Jane.”
I looked at my mother sprawled across the faded bedspread. I saw someone altogether different from who I had seen before. She looked nothing like a queen; she looked like a woman who had birthed twelve children and rose before dawn each day to begin her work, a woman tired and frightened and helpless.
“Don’t worry, Mama. It will be just like it was with Sister Mona and Sister Eulalia. Marcie won’t keep Daddy’s interest for long.”
Mama lay there prone for a long time without a word. Then she sat up, wiping her eyes, adjusting her dress. When she finally spoke, her voice was hard and dry, a caustic whisper. “Not if I have anything to do with it she won’t. That girl may be hot to go, but I know your father like the back of my hand. I know what pleases him, what doesn’t. We must all do our best to regain your father’s favor. He chose Marcie Barton because she is the prophet’s niece. He wants to ingratiate himself to Uncle Kenton, to cement the ties with his family. You must keep extra sweet, Alva Jane. Agree with everything that Sister Cora or any of the others ask of you. Once the tide has shifted back in our favor, you’ll get your reward. I promise you.”
Then Mama climbed onto a stepladder, reached into the top shelf of the armoire, and took down a beautifully embroidered tablecloth. “Let’s take our handiwork downstairs, shall we?” she said with a big smile, and had I not seen her distress a few moments before, I would not have believed she had shed even one tear.
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