WE WALKED HOME HAND in hand. Zillah chattered about the wonders of her day. ‘It was Finn’s birthday, Magdalene. Isn’t Finn a funny name? He had a birthday cake with eight candles on it and Mr Hetherington — he’s the teacher — he lit the candles. Then they all sang happy birthday to you and Finn blew them out, then we all had a piece of cake.’
‘I remember birthdays. They were fun.’ I’d been to a real school too, for half a year before we moved to Nelson.
‘But that wasn’t the best part.’ She turned her face up to mine, her eyes shining. ‘We played with little sticks and made squares out of them and Mr H — that’s what the kids call him — said it was maths. We had to work out how many we’d need and then we used real sticks to see if we were right.’
‘You got it right?’ Not that I doubted it.
She gave a skip. ‘Yes! And, Magdalene, did you know that earthquakes happen because —’ she paused, screwing up her face in an effort to remember — ‘tectonic plates move! It’s not because the Lord is angry like with the flood and Noah.’ She gave another skip. ‘I’m going to believe Mr H because he’s nice and he’s got lots of books and they say that too. I read three books about earthquakes! All of them said earthquakes come because tectonic plates move around and none of them said it was the Lord.’
That was good to know. I made my face look horrified. ‘Gosh, Zillah! That must mean Elder Stephen’s a liar!’
She giggled and skipped and chanted, ‘A big fat liar!’ all the way home.
She fell silent when we came in sight of our house. ‘I’ll have to confess to Father, won’t I?’ she said.
I wanted to say no — nobody will know. But I knew they’d find out. One of the businessmen might already have asked Father about the phone call. Sharon’s father would ask him if we’d found Zillah. Her mother would say something to Mother at the Circle of Fellowship on Wednesday.
‘Yes. It’ll be best.’ I opened the gate, slamming it hard behind us.
We went into the house. Mother wasn’t back yet. I was supposed to go to the discipline room and learn the psalm Father had left for me, but I had no heart for it. Besides, I didn’t want to leave Zillah by herself. She wouldn’t run back to the school, I knew that, but it would be hard for her waiting alone for Father to come home.
‘I’ll make you something to eat,’ I said. ‘You can tell me more school stuff.’
So that’s what she did, her face all lit up and her words tumbling over themselves. She stopped only when I put a plate of food in front of her. I knew her mind was far from the house we were in — it was back with the wonders she’d learned in less than a day at a real school.
I wanted to throw things. I wanted to kick Elder Stephen. I wished he’d drop down deader than dead.
‘Magdalene.’ She pushed the empty plate away. ‘I’m going to write a letter to Father. He gets angry when I cry but I won’t cry if I tell him in a letter. I’ll tell him I went to a proper school and I’ll ask for his forgiveness, but I’m not going to ask the Lord for forgiveness because the nice Lord is pleased I went to that school.’
‘That’s a good idea. You’re a brave girl, Zillah.’ I decided not to warn her that Elder Stephen would punish her. She’d find out soon enough.
Father brought Mother home, took one look at me and said, ‘Magdalene, you are committing the sin of disobedience. Go at once to the discipline room.’
Before I could move, we heard a voice calling, ‘Praise the Lord,’ and in walked skinny, mean Elder Hosea who would be our leader when Elder Stephen was called to the Lord.
Lord, help us.
Mother was all smiles. ‘Elder Hosea! Welcome. Please, sit down.’
Elder Hosea faced Father, ignoring our mother completely. ‘Brother Caleb, I have received a report of serious transgressions by both your daughters.’
Father glanced at our bowed heads. ‘Magdalene and Zillah? I am surprised, Elder Hosea. What report is this?’
‘Sister Leah says neither of them went to school today.’ He spat the words, making us flinch. ‘That is bad enough, but Sister Judith saw this one —’ he jabbed a bony finger in my direction — ‘running — running — around the city bare-headed.’ He took a step towards us, leaning forward to hiss, ‘What have you got to say for yourself, missy?’
Mother was moaning, a high wailing moan. I couldn’t look at Father. Zillah’s hand clutched mine. Enough. I lifted my head. ‘With respect, Elder Hosea, I will speak to my father on this matter. The Rule says it is he who will decide if our transgression is a matter for the Elders.’
I will not faint. I will not leave my sister to face his wrath.
Father’s voice rescued me. ‘My daughter is correct, Elder Hosea. I thank you for bringing this matter to my attention.’
But Elders are not easily turned from the path of vengeance. He cast a look of loathing at us both. ‘It is fortunate I have done so. Such wicked girls would not otherwise have told you.’
Zillah twitched my hand. Of course — the letter. I said, ‘Father, please go to your study. You will find the letter my sister wrote, confessing our sin.’
Elder Hosea didn’t look one scrap holy while he waited for Father to return. He looked furious.
Father came back, Zillah’s letter open in his hand. ‘My daughter is correct. She has confessed all. I understand too why her sister was running through the city.’
‘Let me see!’ Elder Hosea stretched out his clawing fingers.
Father folded the letter. ‘With respect, Elder Hosea, we will follow the guidance of the Rule in this matter. I will speak to my daughters. That will enable me to decide if I need to ask the Elders to help discipline them. Thank you for your concern.’ He went to the door, opened it and waited for Elder Hosea to take himself off.
The click of the shutting door jerked Mother out of her moaning. ‘Wicked, wicked girls! How can you bring such shame upon us?’
Father took her arm. ‘Be at peace, my wife. Rest on your bed. I will speak to our daughters.’ He led her from the room.
Zillah stared after him. ‘He saved us.’
‘Yes.’ I couldn’t quite believe it. ‘He might still tell the Elders, though.’ And they would banish her. I couldn’t think about that, not yet.
She sighed. ‘I know.’ She looked up at me. ‘Magdalene, are you sorry I went to that school today?’
‘No. I’m not. They should let you go every day, but they’ll never let any of us get a real education. That’s what I’m sorry about.’
Father came back. ‘Come to the study, daughters.’
The study meant prayers, it meant long hours on sore knees. We followed him in. ‘Sit down.’
We looked at each other. He never asked us to sit. We always had to kneel or, if we were lucky, to stand while he chastised us.
Zillah shuffled her chair closer to mine. We sat and waited.
Father’s hands lay clasped on the desk in front of him. For ages he just sat in silence with his gaze fixed on something above our heads. At last, he said, ‘Tell me about the school, Zillah.’
She jumped — this was so unexpected. I whispered, ‘Tell him. You can do it. Tell him everything.’
She started with the birthday celebration. ‘It was worldly, Father, but —’ the next words burst from her — ‘it was not sinful. Finn — it was his birthday — he was happy. All the children were happy. The teacher was too. Is it wrong to be happy? The Rule does not say so.’
Father said, ‘Continue.’
I knew she would tell him about earthquakes. She would tell him Elder Stephen was wrong to say they were caused by the Lord’s wrath. She did, but as she was speaking it occurred to me that Father must have studied at a worldly school when he was young. He must have learned the truth of such things. His face gave no hint of his thoughts.
Zillah ended her recital by saying, ‘I was reading a book about the universe when Magdalene came for me.’
My father turned his gaze on me. ‘You guessed where your sister would be?’
‘Yes. I hoped she would be there. I prayed she would be.’
He studied my face for so long I had to drop my eyes. I prayed he wouldn’t ask where I feared she might be. When I looked up again, he had his eyes closed. He was praying.
I prayed too. Lord, help us. Please help us.
When Father spoke, I thought perhaps the Lord had heard me. ‘My daughters, you have both grievously broken the Rule.’
‘We are sorry. Please, forgive us.’ Was it a sin to tell such a lie? We weren’t sorry, either of us. We were only sorry for causing trouble and for causing him pain.
‘I must think further on this matter. I will pray about it. Go to the discipline room, Magdalene. Zillah, you will go to your bedroom. You will both learn Psalm 36.’
She said, ‘Yes, Father,’ in that dead, defeated voice.
I couldn’t bear it. ‘With respect, Father, who will cook the dinner tonight?’ Mother wouldn’t be doing it — she’d probably stay in bed for another week.
He rubbed his temples with his fingers. ‘You do well to speak of such a matter, Magdalene. It reminds me how hard and how cheerfully you have both worked while your Mother has been unwell.’ He lowered his hands, closing his eyes to pray some more. ‘My daughters, there must be some penalty for today’s actions. You may learn Psalm 130 together. It is not a long one.’
‘Thank you, Father.’ We crept away, and didn’t speak until we’d reached the sanctuary of the kitchen.
‘Is that all?’ Zillah asked. ‘He didn’t even growl at me.’
I stood at the kitchen bench. ‘I think the Elders will make mischief. Old Hosea — he was pretty mad. We’ll have to watch out, I think.’
‘I think so too.’ She came to stand beside me. ‘The bench doesn’t need all that rubbing, Magdalene.’ She took the cloth out of my hand. ‘I don’t care what the Elders say; I’m glad Father helped us. He was really kind, Magdalene. He was like the nice Lord.’
‘Yes, I’m glad too, so we’d better not disappoint him. Grab a Bible — let’s see how long Psalm 130 is.’
All the time we were learning the eight verses of the psalm, another part of my mind was struggling to understand our father’s actions. Was he at last questioning the Rule and the Elders?
I wait for the Lord, my soul doth wait, and in his word do I hope.
I tried not to think what would happen if he did come to believe the Elders were wrong, but my mind wouldn’t stop. We would have to leave the Faith. Luke would leave too, and Abraham and Talitha. Neriah’s father must have seen the truth about the Elders and the Rule. If Father followed Brother Jedidiah and took us out we would never see Rachel, Saul or Hope again. We would never see the new baby. We would never see any of them.
We’d be able to see Daniel and Miriam and Rebecca and Esther. We’d be able to talk to them, but not to Rachel.
What would Mother do? She would never leave her grandchildren. She’d never leave Rachel. I didn’t think Father would abandon Mother if she insisted on staying, and, anyway, it was a sin to leave your wife. But it was a sin too for a woman to go against her husband’s wishes. What would happen? I envied Neriah. Her family was still whole but mine was fractured and I couldn’t see how it could ever be whole again.
‘Magdalene? We have to learn this. You have to concentrate.’
‘Sorry. Let’s say the lines loudly. That’s the way Esther used to learn them.’ Her shouting had let me understand that she hadn’t been cast out, that she hadn’t died.
Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice: let thine ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications.
Was it true? Could the Lord really hear my prayer? If He could, I wanted the nice Lord to hear us, not Elder Stephen’s Lord.