THE ROOM EMPTIED AROUND us. People filed out. Nobody spoke. The dizziness faded from my head. I put my arm around Zillah and turned to Mother. We had to get out of here or Elder Stephen might take it into his head to come and preach at us. ‘Mother? Are you well enough to walk? Let’s wait for Father out in the sunshine.’
But she sat where she was, her hands over her face and her shoulders heaving from the effort of staying silent. ‘Get Rachel,’ I said. ‘Hurry, Zillah.’
Before she could move, though, Sister Priscilla and Brother Ebenezer arrived. I slid out of my seat to give them room. ‘Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!’
Sister Priscilla pressed my shoulder. ‘You are such good girls, both of you.’
Between them, they helped Mother to stand. She hardly seemed to know where she was. Brother Ebenezer said, ‘Peace, Sister Naomi. The Lord is good. Our children will be safe. They walk in the light of the Lord. Let your heart be at ease.’
The words calmed her enough so she was able to walk. Once we were outside, Sister Priscilla said, ‘Girls, we will take our sister home. I do not like to leave you here by yourselves, but your father will worry if he gets back to find nobody around.’
‘We’ll be all right,’ I said. ‘Thank you for helping us.’
We watched them shepherd Mother to their car. ‘Where’s Rachel?’ Zillah asked. ‘She should be here. She should be helping.’
We couldn’t see her or Saul among the departing throng. I caught sight of Carmel — she gave me a small wave and pulled a face. I got the message — her parents didn’t want her talking to me.
‘Their car’s still here,’ Zillah said.
We went to go back inside the temple, but hadn’t gone two steps before Rachel and Saul came out. He had his arm around her and he was talking to her, soothing her the way Brother Ebenezer had done for Mother.
‘Rachel? Are you all right?’ Zillah and I rushed to her, stopping dead when we saw the tears streaming down her face.
Saul said, ‘Magdalene, can you help me to get her into the car, please?’
Zillah darted forward to open the car door, and between the three of us we eased our sobbing sister into her seat.
As Saul closed the door, Zillah seized the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Saul, she’s crying because Elder Stephen said Abraham would be damned. That’s why she’s upset, isn’t it?’
He briefly put his hand over hers. ‘Yes, that is why. I will take her home. We will discuss Elder Stephen’s words. There is much to think about.’
‘Don’t forget to collect Hope,’ I said.
A look of horror crossed his face. ‘I did not give her a thought. What father forgets his own child? Thank you, Magdalene.’
‘I’ll get her.’ Zillah ran off towards the nursery.
Saul opened Rachel’s door again and squatted down to speak to her. ‘My dearest wife, our daughter will be here in a minute. Can you be calm for her sake?’ He took out his handkerchief, pressing it into her hand and removing her sodden one.
She blew her nose, nodding at the same time. ‘Yes. Of course. Thank you, Saul. I am sorry for …’
He put his arm around her bent shoulders. ‘Hush, now. We have nothing to be sorry for. We will talk about this, I promise you.’
She gave him a wobbly smile and leaned her head against his.
Zillah came running back with Hope. We watched as both of them stopped to hop over the cracks in the surface of the empty car park. They were laughing.
Saul picked up his daughter, swinging her high to make her chortle before he strapped her into her car seat. We waved as we watched them drive away.
Zillah said, ‘Do you think Father ever did that with us?’
I shook my head. ‘No. He never played with you. I’d have remembered. I don’t think he played with me or the others either.’
Zillah ran off to the nursery playground. I moved to where I could watch her and keep an eye out for Father’s return. He would want to know exactly what Elder Stephen had said. I rehearsed it all in my mind — our leader glaring at us, the scriptures he chose, the way he warned the people against letting Abraham and Talitha come back.
I shivered in the sunshine.
I was right. Father wanted to know every word our leader had spoken. Between us, Zillah and I had to tell the story three times. Father didn’t say we’d discuss it. He didn’t say anything.
Luke kept silent, but turned sideways in his seat to watch him. Zillah and I held hands, expecting him to tell us we’d pray for our brother the moment we got home. Instead Father said, ‘Your mother — she is unwell?’
Zillah said, ‘She was sad. She cried and cried. Rachel did too but Saul said they’d talk about it. Will we talk about it, Father? Why did Elder Stephen say all that?’
‘We will pray,’ Father said.
I slumped back against the seat. Zillah sniffed back tears. The prayers would last the rest of the day.
But Luke said, ‘Father, with your permission and blessing I would like to read a different scripture when we get home. I believe our hearts need comfort and strength at this time. After that, with your permission, I will take my sisters for a walk and we will discuss the meaning of the words of the Lord.’
Father didn’t answer. I truly believe I held my breath all the way home. When he stopped the car, he said, ‘Very well, my son. It shall be as you suggest.’
We had to wait while he spoke to Brother Ebenezer — who told him exactly the same as we had. Sister Priscilla came from Mother’s bedside, saying, ‘Our dear Sister Naomi is sleeping. It is the best thing for her right now.’
Father walked with them to their car. He looked like a man who had been shaken to his very soul.
As we watched, Zillah asked, ‘Will it be a long scripture, Luke? I don’t want to listen to the word of the Lord. I don’t like the Lord.’
He gave her braid a tug. ‘It’s not very long, so you’d better pray Father doesn’t ask for ten more. It’ll help if you say Praise the Lord when you hear a part you like. Okay?’
‘All right. That’s better than praying and praying. Isn’t it, Magdalene?’
A million, countless times better.
Father came back as if he was still walking in a daze. Luke took his arm and led him to a chair. ‘Sit, Father. Would you like tea before we begin?’
‘No. I thank you, my son. Please give us the scripture.’
Luke had chosen Psalm 28. He didn’t read it — he recited it by heart. When had he learned it? I couldn’t remember him ever being sent to the discipline room. Zillah was all frowning concentration, listening for a line she liked, but the verses seemed to have nothing to make her want to praise the Lord. But the boldness of my brother’s choice took my breath away.
Draw me not away with the wicked, and with the workers of iniquity, which speak peace to their neighbours, but mischief is in their hearts.
Would Father believe Elder Stephen was a worker of iniquity with mischief in his heart? I didn’t dare look at him.
The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in him, and I am helped: therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth; and with my song will I praise him.
‘Praise the Lord,’ Zillah and I said together.
Father said nothing until Luke had recited the final words: ‘… and lift them up for ever.’ He didn’t even say Praise the Lord, and we always said that at the end of any scripture. We waited, not knowing what else to do, not daring to move.
At last he sighed, then said, ‘Those are timely words indeed. You are a good son, Luke. You have given me much to pray about. Leave me now.’
We crept out of the house, hardly able to believe we’d escaped the long hours Father would normally have made us spend on our knees in prayer.
When we were far enough away, Zillah threw her arms around Luke. ‘You saved us, Luke! Let’s go to the park. I want to swing and swing, right up into the sky.’
As we watched Zillah fly into the air, I said to Luke, ‘You want Father to think about the mischief, don’t you?’
‘Well spotted, sis.’
‘Do you think Elder Stephen’s like that? That he’s got mischief in his heart?’ It was so wicked to say that about our leader. A sinful, wicked thing even to think. I’d surely go to hell for saying it out loud.
Luke didn’t seem bothered by thoughts of hell. ‘I think he got worried because several of the men supported Brother Jedidiah when he challenged him about education. He must be absolutely steaming mad that Abraham has found a way of doing that course. He’s still furious too about Rebecca running away. It was a pretty strong message when you think about it — she’d rather go to hell for ever than marry him. She made a fool of him, and he can’t punish her. Then that newspaper article appeared — he probably wants to murder the lot of us.’
‘Father won’t believe he’s being mean to us because of all that though,’ I said.
‘He might,’ Luke said. ‘He’s not stupid. This has rattled him. We’ll see. But come on — race you to the slide.’