Never before had Luke challenged his father so directly. Even making this bullshit move here didn’t cause Luke to confront his father so vehemently. But enough was enough. His dad had screwed with his life just one too many times.
“I’m not going.”
Robert paced back and forth in front of empty bookshelves lined with cardboard boxes awaiting someone to empty them. They had lived there two months and his mother was too depressed to do anything. So they tripped over moving boxes and pretended they hadn’t sold their home and moved to Polygamyville.
“I will not allow you to embarrass me in front of Prophet Silver.” His father crossed the space in two strides, placing his hands on a sofa table. “You will attend the wedding, and that’s final.”
“I can’t believe you can do this to Mom.” Something passed across his father’s face. Luke hoped it was guilt. “Or to me.”
“Your mother’s accepted this decision because she knows what’s good for her soul. You better get with the program or . . .”
“Or what? I’m going to burn in hell? Too late. I’m already there. Don’t you see what this is doing to Mom? Are you blind?” Luke wanted to add, And stupid too?
“How dare you talk to me like that! I am the priesthood holder in this family. I make the decisions and my decisions are final. Do you understand?”
“No. I don’t.” He stood up, not wanting to give his father the height advantage. “I’m not going.”
Their eyes locked. The vein in his father’s neck pulsed. The last time he’d seen that, Luke had been smacked in the back of the head.
Robert dropped his gaze. “Look, what can I do to make it easier for you to attend my wedding?”
Luke didn’t enjoy this small victory as much as he thought he would. Maybe it was because things weren’t as bad here as they could have been. He had met Rachel. Just the thought of her steadied his nerves and sent a warm rush to his gut. “Let my friends attend.”
His father looked confused. “What friends?”
“Rachel and Sara.”
“Aaah yes, Brother Abraham’s daughters. You’re friends with Rachel?”
“Both of them actually. I want them to come.”
“Absolutely not. They’re nothing in this community.” His father made a dismissive gesture. “We don’t even know if they’re eligible for entry to the temple.”
“Then count me out.”
His father cleared his throat. “I’d have to invite the girls’ parents and get permission from Prophet Silver. They’d need a temple recommend.”
“If you make it happen, I’ll go.” Luke turned to leave. He didn’t want to give his father any more time to change his mind. His father would make it happen. Money talked and people listened, especially Prophet Silver.
LUKE had never been in the temple. Although it had looked all right from the outside, he wasn’t expecting it to be decent on the inside.
Frail columns supported walls that were painted a pale gold. Although there weren’t any windows, the place was filled with bright white light. He craned his neck upward, seeking the source, before slamming hard against an entry table. He snatched a huge arrangement of flowers as it headed south. He took a stick in the face for his efforts.
“Watch where you’re going,” his father said.
Luke steadied the vase, opening his mouth to reply, when the prophet swept into the room. Tiny hairs on the back of his neck pricked a warning. Every time he laid eyes on this crazy dude, his body responded this way. It really pissed him off.
“Brother Robert, Sister Elaina, welcome to the Lord’s house. Come in, come in.” He approached Luke’s dad with a hand shoved straight at him. They shook like they were long-lost brothers. The prophet then embraced his mother. Luke was surprised to see her face lift in greeting. This had to be hardest day of her life, yet she managed to act the part of happy helpmate.
“Thanks so much for your personal welcome,” she said. “And of course you remember our son, Luke.”
Luke felt his mother’s nails pierce his back as she pushed him forward to shake hands with the fruitcake.
“Glad you could make it, son.”
Luke nodded. Thankfully, he didn’t stop and try to chat him up. An elderly temple worker, with protruding teeth that barely fit under her lips, handed him a bundle of clothes. He shoved it under his arm and followed his family.
Gritting his teeth and balling his fists up, he took a few deep breaths as he followed his father and the self-proclaimed prophet toward the men’s area. The men in the dressing room greeted his father, making corny remarks about what a special day this was for him and how he was now on the path toward righteous living.
Luke tuned them out. He walked to the farthest corner of the room and sat on a bench in front of a locker where he could hang his real clothes. Luke undressed, quickly pulling on the white shirt, pants, tie (thankfully a clip-on) and socks. He tried on the white cloth moccasins. They were too short and tight. At least he didn’t have to put them on now. He almost cracked up at the chef’s hat and the green silk apron with nine fig leaves sewn on. Gathering the ceremonial wraps and white moccasins, he headed out.
A small crowd gathered outside the Creation Room. Luke scanned the faces before seeing Sara. Their eyes met. Sara smiled. She looked pretty in the white outfit and for a brief moment, her gawkiness disappeared. But then his eyes found Rachel, and everything else around him paled.
The group moved into the room. He lost sight of Rachel and was forced to take in the sights. Murals depicting the creation of the earth dominated the walls. Meadows, teeming with grazing animals, were backed against horizons splayed with the colors of dawn. Luke almost expected a Disney melody to twitter from the loudspeakers and for little mechanized birds and squirrels to start chattering.
Sara’s height towered above the other women, drawing his attention back to where they stood. Luke zeroed in on Rachel. They moved to take their places within the chapel, sliding into pews that were on the left side. The men were on the right. At the front of the chapel was a curtain. It rippled, and a man appeared from behind it. He was dressed in some type of white, pajama-looking thing. He was almost completely bald except for a handful of long hair that had been brushed over to one side. For a guy playing God, the comb-over struck Luke as pretty vain. Luke glanced at Rachel. Her face beamed up at the actor on the stage. It bothered him that she embraced this experience.
The actor cupped his hand to his left ear, tilting his head. “You will now hear three voices. The voices of Elohim, Jehovah and Michael.”
Luke was taught that they were the three creators of earth. Elohim was the name of God, Jehovah was born into the world as Jesus and the archangel Michael was born as Adam. At the mention of these names, Luke was reminded of a virulent argument that he got into at camp one summer. His debate partner, Stephen, was a Catholic from Chicago, smart mouthed and funny. They were roommates and spent many nights talking. Somehow the conversation turned to religion. Stephen had never met a Mormon and shot him question after question. Their conversation had degraded into an argument when Luke told him that the Mormons believed that any man could become a god in his own universe in the afterlife as long as he was a good Mormon on earth.
Stephen told him that he was a polytheist. That accusation hit Luke in the gut. He had never considered that possibility. The discussion cooled the friendship and when he left the camp, Luke had a seed of doubt planted in his brain that eventually grew to complete rejection of his faith.
God finished his speech and retreated behind the curtain where three voices arose, apparently from a distance. “Jehovah! Michael! See, there is matter unorganized. Let us go down and form a world like unto other worlds which we have formed, where the spirits awaiting bodies may tabernacle.”
Luke watched as the two actors playing Jehovah and Michael walked around saying things like, “We will go down,” and after each day, they uttered, “It is well.” On day five, someone flicked on the chandelier to represent the creation of light. Luke took that opportunity to seek out Rachel. She sat on the edge of her chair, and Luke couldn’t see her face. He settled farther back into his own and watched until the seven days were finished.
Jehovah spoke first, his tone wooden and his voice completely devoid of inflection. “See the earth which we have formed, but there is not a man to till the ground.” Luke rolled his eyes. Jehovah was pretty unenthusiastic for having just patched together an entire universe in seven days.
Elohim continued, “We will make man in our own image.” Elohim and Jehovah began making passes over Michael with their hands. Then they breathed on him, making Michael go to sleep. Luke wished he could join Michael for a nap.
Elohim faced the audience. “This man who is now being operated upon is Michael who helped form the world. When he awakens, he will have forgotten everything and will have become as a little child and will be known as Adam.”
Elohim turned back to Michael. “Adam, awake!”
Michael/Adam snapped awake. He flailed his arms and legs in this dramatic amoebalike performance. Jehovah and Elohim discussed Adam’s need to have a partner on this new earth, while Adam walked around looking awestruck and uncoordinated.
After much discussion Elohim snapped his fingers, and an old woman walked onstage. She was dressed like one of the many geriatric temple workers that populated the premises. For a moment, Luke thought there had been a mistake. Surely she wasn’t supposed to be Eve? But when she spoke to Adam and recited some Eve-type lines, he realized this was no mistake.
“Eve” looked like Adam’s grandmother. Luke looked around, hoping someone else found the situation hilarious. He suspected Sara did, but when he glanced at the pair, he could only see their backs. Rachel sat so far forward in her seat that Luke worried she was starstruck by Adam’s spastic performance.
Adding to the hilarity of Grandma Eve, Lucifer decided to take this moment to show up. And although he was dressed like a gentleman in a black suit, silk hat and cane, he acted like a rabid dog that stomped and snarled. The entire effect was made even stranger by Satan’s own Martha Stewart apron cinched politely at his waist. Lucifer made eye contact with him, giving Luke an extra-special snarl.
Luke glanced at Rachel. Their eyes met for a moment. It was obvious he had been laughing. Her gaze sobered him immediately. Rachel’s face softened, and she smiled at him. Then she turned her attention to Lucifer, while he climbed on the stage, stalking back and forth in front of the massive curtain that was supposed to be the Garden of Eden.
Lucifer turned to Adam. “Adam, you have a nice new world here. It is patterned after the world where we used to live.”
Adam denied any knowledge of this other world. Lucifer plucked an invisible apple from an invisible tree and began taunting Adam to partake of the fruit of knowledge. After failing to entice him to take a bite, he turned to Grandma. “Ye shall not surely die but ye shall be as the gods.”
Apparently, this interested Grandma, and she decided to partake of the invisible apple after all.
Grandma Eve taunted a reluctant Adam. “Our Father commanded us to be fruitful and multiply and replenish the earth. Now I have partaken of the forbidden fruit and shall be cast out, while you will remain a lone man in the Garden.”
Luke swallowed his laughter, trying to suppress the vision of Grandma Eve and her menopausal delusion that she could reproduce.
Adam was not as amused as Luke and decided he had no choice but to eat the fruit. After all, it was a tall order to populate the entire planet and an impossible one without a woman, even one pushing eighty years. Adam bit into the apple. The two were partaking away when Elohim arrived on the scene. He was pissed and suddenly Adam and Grandma decided they were embarrassed to be nude in front of God. They tied their fig leaf aprons on, and the audience followed their example.
Settling back in his seat, Luke watched Elohim chastise Adam and Eve. Then he addressed the audience and told the women to obey their husbands in everything, so long as the husbands obeyed God. After the Law of Obedience, he asked the participants to take the Law of Sacrifice, where they were covenanted to give up all they possessed, including their lives, if necessary, to defend the church.
“You will now arise, push back the seats, put on your caps and moccasins and receive the first token of the Aaronic priesthood,” Adam said. “And you will not forget that the utmost secrecy is to be observed with respect to these proceedings.”
Luke put on the squashed chef’s hat and fiddled with the ribbon intended to keep the holy hat on his head. Elohim had other ideas and began to instruct them in how and when to perform the special handshake.
“We covenant and promise that we will not reveal any of the secrets of the first token of the Aaronic priesthood, with its accompanying name, sign or penalty. Should we do so, we agree that our throats will be cut from ear to ear and our tongues torn out by their roots.”
Everyone passed their thumbs across their jugulars, while pledging to give their lives up just as casually as if they were stifling a yawn. Apparently, their lives were less important than protecting some secret handshake.
A somber mood settled over the participants.
Adam pointed to a curtained door. “The brethren will now follow Adam and the sisters will follow Eve into the room representing the Lone and Desolate World.”
He silently wished his mother luck before falling in step behind the prophet and his troupe of merry men.
The Lone and Desolate World was an antidote to the peaceful Creation Room. Whereas that room had murals depicting gently flowing rivers, the Desolate World showed craggy, turbulent waters. Where vegetation abounded in the Creation Room, this room was full of vines that twisted and entwined to choke out the sunlight. Animals were locked in ferocious combat, while wild-eyed birds circled overhead. Luke found it a thousand times more interesting.
Several temple workers emerged to help the participants learn their tokens and penalties. His dad made eye contact with him at one point, and Luke gave him a small smile. He got nothing in return.
Finally, some kid he recognized from BLA approached him. “So, this is your dad’s big day, huh?”
Luke looked at the pimply-faced kid. “I guess.”
“Man, he must be important.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because nobody gets their own endowment ceremony except for Prophet Silver. I’ve attended a couple of my father’s weddings, and there were at least ten to twenty other couples doing the exact same thing.” The kid scratched his head before adjusting his hat. “And my dad is an apostle.”
“Maybe it’s a slow time of year.”
“Nope. There’s a group one tomorrow.” The kid yawned. “You know we’ll be cousins after this.”
“Really?”
“Your father is marrying my sister.”
“Doesn’t that make you my uncle?”
“Whatever. Hey, you want to go over the penalties with me?”
Before Luke could answer no, the kid pantomimed cutting out his heart. Then he made a low, slashing gesture across his abdomen to disembowel himself. Luke couldn’t believe how casual the kid was about all this.
After a few practice runs, Luke felt compelled to make a joke. “So, if I have this uncontrollable urge to blurt out the temple secrets, does it mean somebody will kill me or would I have to do all this to myself?”
“No, someone will do it for you.”
“Oh, glad to have that cleared up.”
“Why don’t you sit next to me? The good part’s coming up.”
Luke felt he had no choice but to agree to the settlement offer. He didn’t want to look like an asshole. The men were instructed to move back into the main room. Unfortunately, he was out of Rachel range and now seated next to a man who chugged air instead of actually breathing. He also dripped sweat, flinging it every now and then. Not that he blamed the heavy guy for sweating. They were all swaddled like newborns in their sheet sets. He watched as the women were veiled so the men could gather in a prayer circle around the altar and receive the true order of prayers and see how they were given. Luke remained in his seat and so did his new cousin.
He tuned out Silver’s lecture until the curtains lifted, revealing an enormous white sheet that temple workers were pulling apart and lengthening. It had deep slits stretching about six feet in height. The workers slid their arms through the slits and waited while the guy who played Peter explained what their presence signified. The area behind the veil represented the “afterlife,” while the temple workers represented “God.”
Luke dreaded this moment. He would have to embrace these workers, or God, and give them the correct tokens and penalties. His father would take the “God” position behind the veil to usher his mother and his new wife, Beulah, into the “afterlife.” Since Luke was male, he got the honor of having God usher him in.
Luke took his place in line. Several hands pushed him forward until he stood behind his father. He knew Rachel and Sara were somewhere behind him in the line. He dared not turn around and look. He also kept his eyes down, not wanting to see his father with his new almost-wife or his mother’s face as Dad brought Beulah through the veil.
After Dad completed being lord over his women, it was Luke’s turn. He approached the veil. A temple worker stood behind him and told him to embrace “God.” He did, feeling bile rise in his throat.
God quizzed him about penalties and tokens before clearing his throat and saying, “Power in the priesthood be upon me for generations and throughout eternity.” God placed Luke’s hand in one of the secret grips, pulling him through the slits and into the Celestial Room.
His father was on his knees alongside Beulah. Several feet away from the supplicant couple, his mother sat primly in an opulent chair.
“You okay, Mom?” Luke said, barely above a whisper.
“He wants us to pray,” his mother said, nodding toward the kneeling couple. “As a family.”
“Oh.” Nobody made an effort to move. “He’s not married yet,” Luke added, as if the sealing ceremony wasn’t going to happen as soon as everyone present passed through the veil. He immediately regretted saying anything because of the look that passed behind his mother’s eyes.
He took a seat on another overstuffed number watching the stream of people coming through the veil.
Rachel had barely passed through the veil when Sara followed close behind. Luke got up and motioned for them to follow him over to a vacant corner. Rachel’s eyes were glittery with excitement. Luke’s throat knotted as he took in her beauty.
“That was the most incredible thing I’ve ever witnessed,” she said.
“What was the story with Eve?” Sara asked.
Luke’s head swung in Sara’s direction as he realized he had been gawking at Rachel. “I know. Man, I thought I was the only one who was wondering that.” Luke and Sara discussed their reaction to Grandma Eve while Rachel peered around the room.
Finally, she hopped into the conversation. “It’s gorgeous in here.”
Luke bit his tongue to keep from blurting out, You’re the gorgeous one.
“Of course it is,” Sara said. “The Celestial Room is supposed to be an ecstasy of delicate and luxurious color. I read that somewhere.”
“I liked the Lone and Desolate Room myself,” Luke said.
Rachel turned toward Luke, and he felt his stomach do a flip-flop. “Thanks for inviting us. I can’t tell you how much it meant to me.”
Luke’s pulse quickened. My god . . . she is so beautiful. And even her stupid prairie dress couldn’t hide the outline of an incredible body that Luke periodically stole glimpses of. She was hands-down the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, on the streets, in magazines, or even in the movies. “No problem,” he managed to eke out.
SARA stared at her second piece of wedding cake, surprised to find tears puckering the sugary surface. Piles of stacked chairs circled her, creating a cagelike atmosphere. What seemed like the perfect place to hide moments earlier, now felt desolate and claustrophobic without Rachel and Luke. Had they ditched her and sought out a better hideout where they could be alone? Sara didn’t just feel like a third wheel, she was more of a third appendage.
She put the plate down on the righted chair that Luke had sat on minutes earlier and moved toward the front of the storage room. As she neared, male voices cut across the racket coming from the reception.
She recognized Apostle Orlin’s voice immediately. If the prophet wasn’t on hand, Orlin often assumed the role of coordinator. He ran many meetings, tossing fiery speeches that condemned the evil nonbelievers. Who Orlin was talking to was a complete mystery though.
“I agree with you, Brother Norwood,” Orlin said. “The service today was most spiritually gratifying. Now, what is it that you wanted to discuss with me privately? I’m most intrigued.” Norwood. Sara frowned. The name didn’t ring a bell either.
“I have an idea that you might want to hear,” this Norwood person said. “You know how the other day when you saw my girl for the first time? You told me she was a pretty thing.”
“Um-hmm.”
“I’m offering my girl’s hand to you in marriage.”
“And why would I be interested in that?” Orlin said.
Sara held her breath.
“You said she was pretty and all.”
“I think the Lord did right when he created womankind. I think they’re all pretty in their own way,” Orlin said. “Doesn’t mean I want to marry them all.”
“Well.” Norwood cleared his throat. “My daughter says that you have a girl named Martha. I hear she’s twenty-five or -six, and just between me and you, getting a little long in the teeth.”
“Brother,” Orlin said after a lengthy pause, “I hardly think a twenty-six-year-old is ‘long in the teeth.’ Still, I’m not so sure that’s a fair deal. You’d be moving up in status and prestige by marrying Martha. What would I get out of it?”
“My daughter is a fine-looking gal, but Martha, she’s . . . well, she seems like a very nice girl.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m just saying she’s probably getting antsy to have babies. Don’t you think?”
“Even if I was intrigued by your deal, how can you support her? You can barely feed the family you’ve got.”
“I thought maybe . . .”
“You thought maybe your position would improve by allowing you to earn more at Silver Enterprises? Perhaps we would build another home for your burgeoning clan. Am I correct?”
“Yeah,” Norwood said. “No disrespect to Martha or nothing. I’d do right by her.”
“So, I’d get your daughter, who I will admit, is quite pleasant to look at. And you’d take Martha as a wife.”
“Uh, well . . . well, I just think it’d be a pretty fair deal.”
“Tell me about your daughter,” Orlin said. “What’s her name?”
“Joan Lynn. She’s devoted to the Principle. She minds well. I made sure of that myself.”
Sara braced herself against a stack of chairs. Joan Lynn. She knew the girl and suddenly Norwood’s identity became clear. He was a dreadful person. This couldn’t possibly be happening. She pinched her arm to make sure it wasn’t a dream.
“I have several very attractive wives already. Why would I want another one?” Orlin said. “The Lord hasn’t even begun whispering in my ear that it is time to take another.”
“She’s young.”
“How young?”
“Only just turned thirteen.”
“Hmm. I see,” Orlin said.
“You wouldn’t have to worry no more about Martha.”
“Well, it might be an interesting exchange. I tell you what, I will pray about it, and if the Lord gives me confirmation, I’ll set the wheels in motion.”
They moved out of earshot. Sara’s knees buckled, slamming against the concrete floor. The pain shot up her legs, exploding in her brain. She ignored it and crawled to the nearest wall. Pulling herself against it, she tucked her throbbing knees tight against her chest.
This didn’t just happen. It couldn’t have. Her eyes ached to cry, but they were dry. She knew both those girls, and pity swelled in her throat. To have such awful fathers like that . . .
The accordion doors rattled. Sara held her breath. She’d been discovered.
“Sara,” Luke whispered.
“What’s wrong?” Rachel took one look at her huddled against the wall and then handed Luke her plate of cake and pushed past him.
“I . . . I . . .” The tears started, choking Sara’s words off.
“We couldn’t come earlier because some brothers were standing right outside the entry. What’s wrong?”
Sara needed to buy time and think about whether or not she should even tell Rachel. “I thought I’d been discovered.”
“But you weren’t.”
“I know . . .”
What if Luke’s father made some type of deal to marry Beulah?
Rachel leaned over and hugged her, saying reassuring things that Sara couldn’t process. Suddenly everything was suspect. Questions about her engagement swirled in her mind. Maybe that was why the prettiest girls always ended up with the powerful council members. Look what was happening to Rachel. Maybe Sara’s own father had been afraid nobody would want his freakishly tall, horse-faced daughter and asked his brother to unload her. She wanted to scream.
What would her father get in exchange for giving up his cash cow, Rachel? What if she married someone like Brother Orlin who just gave Martha away? She’d never survive in Norwood’s home.
Sobs racked Sara’s shoulders. Rachel shushed and comforted, but Sara’s control spiraled away.
“Come on, Sara. It’s not like you were caught. And even if you were, what’s the big deal?” Luke said after a few moments.
Sara snuffled. “They would have accused me of spying on them.”
“That kind of thing wouldn’t be looked upon favorably,” Rachel said to Luke. “Maybe we should get out of here. Maybe the Lord was trying to tell us that.”
“I think He has other things to do,” Luke said.
“You’re probably right, but still we had a close call. Maybe it’s time we returned to the party,” Rachel said, her eyes darting to the door.
“I can’t go. Not yet.” Sara grabbed her sister’s hands and squeezed.
“Okay. But you need to take a few deep breaths.”
Rachel demonstrated for her as though Sara had never breathed before a day in her life. It suddenly struck her as funny. Not just funny, hilarious. Absolutely the most hysterical thing she had ever seen. It was forbidden to laugh, but she couldn’t stop. Her sides ached and tears continued to flow.
“Sara. Sara. What’s going on with you?” Nervous amusement marked Rachel’s words.
Luke began laughing with Sara and soon the three of them were hunched on their knees, holding their stomachs and guffawing. Nobody knew what was so funny, and that made it funnier, even though they’d be beaten within an inch of their lives if they were caught laughing.
“This . . . is . . . crazy.” Luke swiped his eyes. “What . . . is so funny?”
“I don’t know,” Sara said. They roared louder.
He stood, held out a hand to Sara and pulled her to her feet.
He then reached for Rachel, practically lifting her off the floor. “This day has been so strange. Did you see that weirdo staring at you during the sealing ceremony?”
Rachel shook her head.
“He actually mouthed the vows while staring you down. It was creepy.”
Sara had noticed that as well and had been disturbed. He was a fairly prominent apostle.
“Guess he had the delusion he was marrying Rachel.”
Sara laughed. “Yeah, well, Farley needs to get in line with the other sixteen guys all vying for Rachel’s hand.”
“Wha . . . what did you say?” Luke shook his head.
Sara glanced at Rachel, who looked deathly white. How could she have been so stupid?