The Rule
A person expelled from the Fellowship is deemed to be dead. Nobody will speak of such a person.
IT WAS A SOBER AFTERNOON. The children saw we were upset and, for once, even Abraham didn’t pester for answers. Mother, after a sharp glance at us, carried on as normal.
A bolt of envy shot through me that I would need to pray about later. Mother was so lucky. She was protected from the world by Father. He was the one who had to make the tough decisions, he was the one who stood between our family and the dangers of worldliness. All she had to do was bear children, nurture us, and show by example how to be a good and godly woman.
When the heat of the afternoon was at its peak, Mother told us to take the little ones to the park, and for once Abraham didn’t object to being called little. He even fetched Zillah’s pushchair while we tied our scarves over our hair. Zillah tugged hers off immediately — but a child so young could be excused, so we didn’t worry.
It took much discipline not to run flat out along the streets to the park. The moment we arrived, Abraham demanded, ‘Tell us what happened.’
It was a relief to tell it without needing to worry about breaking the Rule.
Luke burst out, ‘I hate Ira! He’s mean to me and Jesse too.’
‘Will you die?’ Magdalene’s eyes were wide and frightened.
Here it was again — the fear that had been scorched into her very soul when first Miriam, then Daniel and Esther were cast out and deemed to be dead. ‘No, we won’t die. Miriam didn’t die. Daniel didn’t, and neither did Esther. They’re alive and they live in Wellington.’
Father wouldn’t like us telling her that. But right now, my heart was hurting. He should know Rachel and I wouldn’t do anything to grieve him or the Lord. He should know it.
Abraham left off tying complicated knots in his shoelaces and said, ‘I’m gunna beat that Ira up.’
Rachel threw her arms around him. ‘Abraham! Thank you for the thought. But please, please don’t! They’d expel you from the Fellowship.’
‘Rachel’s right,’ I said. ‘We don’t want you to get in trouble. We need you.’
He took off and raced around the park, running and running. Luke followed him, but Magdalene stayed with us, keeping a tight hold on our hands. ‘What if the Elders make one of you marry Ira?’
I bent down to whisper, ‘We’ll kill him. Clog his arteries with cream so he’ll drop down dead of a heart attack.’
She cheered up amazingly after that and even let us push her on a swing.
Ira. He was eighteen but wasn’t yet betrothed. The Elders could well choose one of us to marry him and, if they did, we’d have to obey or accept that we’d never be given another chance to become a wife and mother.
I would pray for good husbands for Rachel and for me.
FAMILY PRAYERS WERE LONGER and more solemn than usual that evening. Our father gave us no hint as to whether he had decided to believe us and not Ira. Rachel and I were about to put Magdalene to bed when a voice called, ‘Praise the Lord,’ and in walked Elder Hosea, followed by Elder Asa.
‘Brother Caleb,’ they said to Father, ‘a word with you.’
They ignored the rest of us, even Mother. It wasn’t a good sign. Ira must have decided to make mischief. Well, if that was the case, I was glad we’d already told Father what happened. Even if it didn’t make any difference, at least we’d tried.
It took a lot to reassure Magdalene. She was certain we’d disappear in the night — that in the morning we’d be dead and gone. In the end, we had to promise to stay with her until she slept. Rachel fetched the basket of mending and we worked as we sang her to sleep.
Eventually her eyes closed. Rachel crammed the shirt she’d finished into the basket. ‘Esther was right. They should have explained everything to her when Miriam was cast out. She wouldn’t be such a mess now if they had.’
‘Will you tell your children? If somebody’s expelled?’ I whispered, conscious of the two Elders in the room down the hallway. ‘Will you say they’re dead and not speak of them again?’
‘I’ll tell them the truth,’ she hissed back. ‘Especially if the poor things get poisonous Ira for a father!’
We stared at each other, shocked by her outburst — and then we collapsed in a heap of giggles.
Luke was in bed by the time we tiptoed from our room, but he had his door open and was on the lookout for us. ‘The Elders sent Abraham to Elder Stephen with a note. He’s not back yet.’
All of us knew what that meant. It was Elder Stephen who took upon himself the burden of owning the Fellowship’s only telephone. He did it to spare us from having contact with the evil of the world.
Why did they want the phone? Maybe it wasn’t about the Ira business after all. I went cold. Had word come about Miriam or Daniel? Esther, even. Was one of them really dead?
We learnt nothing more that night. We didn’t sleep well.
The next day was Sunday.
Father didn’t speak to us at breakfast, but then he seldom did, and we didn’t dare ask what his thoughts were on the Ira matter. Mother was her usual calm self as she organised us all. ‘Rebecca, Rachel — it is our turn to take afternoon tea. Make a batch of biscuits and two trays of scones. Abraham, you are in charge of the children. You may take them outside but make sure they do not get dirty.’
If Ira had told his story, Elder Stephen would preach about the importance of keeping the Rule in every particular. Rachel and I would have to be present for the sermon and we would feel the weight of our leader’s disappointment in our very souls, even though we had no reason to do so.
Mother scolded me for over-mixing the scones. The biscuits Rachel made were too soft and the batter ran all over the oven tray.