Stephen led us on to the final house, the unfinished one, which had patchy aluminum siding on the outside, and bare wood elsewhere. Around it were no flower beds or gardens of any kind, only hard dirt and sagebrush.
“So Joanna is the wife who used to be FLDS?” Kurt asked.
“Yes,” Stephen said. “Joanna was married to a Fundamentalist man in Short Creek, Arizona, when she was only fourteen. According to the law of placing, the church authorities chose her husband for her and she had no choice in the matter. He was far older than she was, and her only role once she was married was to give birth to children for him as quickly as possible.” He sounded disgusted, but I couldn’t help but wonder how differently he saw his own wives’ roles. There were lots of children here on the Carter compound.
“So she had her first daughter Grace when she was fifteen,” Stephen continued. “By the time she was sixteen, Joanna knew that she had to get out. She fled in the cover of night with her daughter. She came here to Salt Lake City and tried to raise the girl on her own, but she had so few skills. Her education was poor—she could hardly read—and she had no support system because she’d left her family and church behind her. She was terrified of any government assistance because she’d been taught to believe that the government was ruled by Satan, and there was the very real risk she’d be sent home because she was underage.”
Rebecca had already mentioned the problem of Joanna’s legal emancipation, no doubt something Stephen had helped her with and which had made her even more dependent on and grateful to him. I was angry at the idea of any girl being married so young, and maybe Stephen wanted me to see him as a savior of his wives. He’d helped Carolyn and Joanna have more normal lives than the ones they’d been born into. But I couldn’t help but think about the possibility that he had married needy, much-younger women for his own selfish reasons.
“The FLDS believe many of the same things I believe about Wilford Woodruff and the 1890 Manifesto ending polygamy,” Stephen said. “But they have some strange ideas about special genetic lineage that mean that there is a lot of intermarriage. As a medical doctor, I can’t help but see the mistaken thinking there for what it is. They have many, many children born with defects. There is a baby graveyard in every city they live in, and sometimes the elders of the church are even asked to come in and end the suffering of the child and the parents before it happens naturally.” He shuddered at this.
Some part of me found it beyond strange that he could look at other people’s polygamy and think them so much worse than he was. But at least he had no baby graveyard.
“Even worse is the isolation and control. Boys and girls are not allowed to watch television or use the Internet, so they have no contact with the outside world. They live in isolated communities, miles and miles away from the nearest town. All the children work many hours a day to earn money for the large corporations that the elders of the church own, and they are not compensated for their time.”
Yes, I knew about the FLDS church and its practices already. But so far much of what he was describing seemed not very different from the Carter family system as Rebecca had described it to me earlier. Did he really see himself as so different?
“The boys are culled regularly when they are of age, to make sure that they don’t fall in love with girls marked for the men in authority. When they are sent away, they are given nothing but the clothes on their backs, and they have nothing they can do to earn their way in the world but the crudest labor. I’m sure God does not look on this practice with the least degree of allowance.”
Kurt made a grunt of unwilling assent to that.
Stephen picked up a toy that was in the yard and carried it with us as we moved toward the unfinished porch of the farthest house. “As for the girls, they are married so young they cannot object. They have no idea of any life but housework, yard labor, and bearing children. Joanna is unusual in her rebellion. Many girls are tied to so many children by the time they are old enough to think for themselves that they can never escape, not really. It is a travesty. The government should be doing more to stop it, but the group claims religious freedom exemptions all the time for child labor infractions and education failures.”
“It is terrible,” I agreed, as our walking pace slowed.
“Of course, my own children are very well educated,” Stephen said, as if anticipating the comparison. “We homeschool them, but not to handicap them and make them unable to choose any other life, only to make sure that they are able to choose their own topics so their interest in education always remains high.”
Hmm. I wasn’t sure I believed that was why he homeschooled. Isolation was still a form of social control, no matter how benign it seemed. I was sure that not every branch of Mormonism that continued to practice polygamy was as bad as the FLDS, but I wasn’t sure any polygamy could really be less than oppressive to the women involved. And so far, Stephen Carter wasn’t disproving my theory in any way.
Approaching the front door, Stephen lowered his voice, as if to keep Joanna from hearing he was talking about her. “We first met Joanna because she had been doing some gardening for our neighbors, the Perezes.” He gestured south of the main house, though I couldn’t see what neighbors he meant. The property was too big, covered in trees and hills. “Carolyn met her first, when Joanna came up to offer some of her roses. But then Joanna gradually came to visit the house more and more often, bringing little Grace with her. It was Rebecca who insisted that something had to be done about the young woman. Then we helped her find a lawyer and the rest is history.” He smiled widely.
“It sounds like you had no choice in the matter,” Kurt said skeptically.
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. But it really isn’t about my choice. That’s why living the Principle is the highest law. We put everything about our lives in God’s hands and expect that He will do what is best for us,” Stephen said. He stepped up and put the toy down on the front porch.
“How old was Joanna when you married?” I asked, wondering if Stephen was breaking the law here. Statutory rape was still criminal, even if you called it marriage.
“Eighteen years old,” Stephen replied, giving me a canny look as if he knew what I was thinking. “That was in 2014.”
Eighteen—so he’d just barely avoided marrying a legal minor. It still seemed all too close to breaking the law to me, though.
At that, Stephen knocked on the door, and called, “Joanna, it’s me!” He let himself in, and we followed.
Joanna poked her head out from the kitchen. “Come on in here,” she called.
The first thing I noticed was the overwhelming smell of roses in the home. Once inside, I saw that on nearly every surface, there were beautiful fresh-cut red, white, pink, and yellow roses of all different sizes. I hadn’t seen these kinds of flowers anywhere on the property.
Stephen took us into the kitchen, which had a hole where the dishwasher should have been and no flooring other than cement. Joanna was carrying one of her children on either hip as she maneuvered between what looked like a secondhand stove and sink. Both children were dressed from neck to wrist to ankle in tops and skirts with leggings underneath that I couldn’t help but think were completely inappropriate for the summer. The house wasn’t air conditioned, so they were sweating onto their mother, who wasn’t doing any better. I did notice that both girls had the same blue eyes as Stephen, though their hair was darker than the other children’s, like Joanna’s.
A slightly older girl was standing by the table, dressed in the same long clothes, up to her neck, past her ankles and wrists, so that she had to push up her sleeves constantly and she seemed to struggle not to trip over her skirt. She also wore a huge white apron that must have been her mother’s. She was rolling out sugar cookies. I guessed that she was Grace, the daughter from Joanna’s first marriage.
Like her daughters, Joanna wore a loose, long skirt and a long-sleeved, high-necked top. I guess Joanna was used to dressing like the FLDS, so she kept it up even after she had left them. Her dark hair was loose down her back and she wore no makeup. She was very thin and she looked painfully young to be the mother of three children. But except for the fact that she didn’t meet anyone’s eyes directly, mine, Kurt’s, or Stephen’s, she didn’t seem to be afraid of Stephen.
“Joanna, this is Kurt and Linda Wallheim, Naomi’s in-laws to be,” Stephen said.
“Grace and I made these for you,” Joanna said without acknowledging our names, though it seemed less from rudeness than simple distractedness. She gestured at a finished plate of sugar cookies on the table. Had she made them or had the little girl? They were all irregular shapes, but when I bit into one it tasted flaky and sweet.
“Thank you. This is delicious,” I said, winking at Grace, who had looked over at me. But she did not respond to my friendly gesture, she simply turned back to her work.
“We made them for you because the Spirit whispered to me while I slept that we would have two visitors today,” Joanna told us earnestly. The surprise must have been evident on our faces because she added, “I also knew in advance when lightning struck a tree in the gully. And when the mail didn’t come last week.”
“You know I don’t like it when you talk about premonitions,” Stephen said, his tone mildly corrective.
“They aren’t premonitions or any such nonsense,” Joanna said, and her voice sounding older—almost chiding toward Stephen, which wasn’t what I’d expected at all. “They’re real promptings from the Holy Spirit of Christ.”
I wished the Spirit told me practical things like that guests were coming instead of vague feelings of “right” or “wrong.” Maybe there was something spiritual for me to learn from this strange, child-like woman.
“That’s very scientific,” Stephen mocked her without any kindness. “I should bring in someone to do a study on them. But then again, what do you know about science? You’ve had no education about it at all.”
I was taken aback, but Joanna looked smug and superior, not at all hurt. “It’s not science. It’s the Holy Spirit. Remember back in April when all the milk in all the houses went bad at once? The Spirit had told me it would happen, and I warned all the wives in advance. Don’t you remember that, Stephen?”
Stephen seemed to barely be restraining himself from belittling her. But I didn’t have any sympathy for his position. I did wonder about what Joanna believed to be her power. I knew that some evangelical traditions spoke about gifts bestowed by Christ, but it wasn’t a real part of mainstream Mormonism. I found I wished I could believe it, though—how glorious to have a voice of certainty pointing the way.
“It’s a gift,” Joanna explained to me and Kurt, “from the Spirit, just like anyone else if you read Christ’s promises in the scriptures.”
“I see,” said Kurt, whom I could see felt sorry for her.
“Joanna, could you send the children outside to play?” Stephen asked. It was a strange thing for him to ask, since he’d been so intent on showing off the children of the other wives.
“All right,” she said. I noticed she was very careful to step away from Stephen and put the two toddlers on the floor by Grace, corralling the little girls with her feet. “Grace, can you take the little ones outside?”
“Yes, Mother,” Grace said in a grown-up tone, without looking up. “I just need to finish one more cookie.”
“Not one more cookie,” Joanna said. “Zina and Liza need you.”
“Oh, all right.” Grace licked her finger, the only sign of her real age, then took off her apron. She gave me a quick, very adult appraising look. Then she picked up the smaller of the two girls in her arms, grabbed hold of the other one by the elbow and took them outside. The last impression I had of her was of eyes so piercingly blue that they would have made her fit right into the family, even if she wasn’t genetically related.
“You like it here, don’t you, Joanna?” Stephen asked. “It’s much better than when you lived with the FLDS?”
Joanna hesitated a moment, and I wondered if she was trying to parse Stephen’s tone. I couldn’t tell what he wanted her to say. “I like it here, yes,” she said.
“And why is that?”
“Because you are good to me,” Joanna said, slowly at first, and then warming up to it. “Because you give me freedom and you make sure we always have enough to eat and you are a good father, coming to visit and play with the children almost every day.”
It was so obvious this was a learned speech that I cringed at the way Joanna eagerly looked at Stephen for approval.
“Well,” he said. “You have certainly had a life without freedom or real education. I’ve always tried to be fair to you, more than fair. The other wives have complained that I’ve spoiled you, do you know that?”
Was I imagining a mild threat in what he said? Maybe not, because a tear rolled down Joanna’s cheek. “I never want to make you angry with me,” Joanna said. “Never.”
I remembered Jennifer’s insinuation that they had argued last night. I felt like I was listening in on a conversation with only one side in English.
“There now.” Stephen bent over and kissed her cheeks. “You just need proper discipline.”
“Discipline” did not sound good to me. I looked at Kurt and could see his jaw was clenched. If this were our ward, Kurt could step in and say something. But we were just here for the day and Kurt had no authority to demand a change.
I could only guess that Stephen was doing this in front of us to humiliate Joanna and keep her cowed. I wondered how often that happened here, with the wives being used to embarrass each other.
Stephen was now rubbing a hand down Joanna’s back, the picture of sympathy. Ugh!
“I need to be sure of you, Joanna. I’ll just have to think of the right thing. Maybe you need more time to yourself so you can think. I could have the older girls come up and fetch your girls to the main house each morning. Would that help?” His voice sounded kind, though his manner was cold.
Joanna had paled dramatically. “I don’t need more time to myself,” she said. “I need my daughters with me always.”
“Do you?” said Stephen. He moved away from her and then turned to Kurt and me. I swear that he was conscious of our attention in this supposedly intimate moment. “I think every mother deserves some time to herself. To go out to a movie or have her hair done. It’s difficult when every minute of the day is spent caring for someone else’s physical needs. I’m sure you remember that time in your life, don’t you, Linda?”
“Yes,” I said after a long moment. “I remember it well.” But I didn’t think it had been the same for me as it was for Joanna.
I hated this place, I thought. If not for Talitha, I would be packing my bags and leaving right now, wedding or no wedding.
“All right. We’ll head back to the main house now,” Stephen said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Joanna.”
He turned to the door, but I lingered, trying to think of something to say to Joanna. Could I let her know that I was safe, if she needed another option for her life and her three daughters? What could I do for her, other than call DCFS, which Naomi had specifically said she wanted not to do? At least not yet.
In that moment, I saw Joanna’s body jerk and her eyes roll back in her head. She seemed to gargle in her throat, and then she spat something up. “Wait, Stephen!” she called out.
He stopped, but took a long moment to give her his attention. “What is it you want now, Joanna?”
“It’s not for me. I had a vision just then.”
Was that what a vision looked like, from the outside? It didn’t look pleasant. Unless—could she put on something like that? I didn’t believe she was much of an actress based on what I’d seen of her so far.
Joanna extended her hands as if feeling for something in the air, then shuddered and wrapped her arms around her middle. “Stephen, be careful tonight. There may be danger coming for you.” Her whispered, dark tone left me with a chill.
Stephen didn’t seem affected. In an annoyed, patronizing tone, he said, “All right, Joanna, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you so much for looking out for me.” He shook his head and then stepped out the front door, nodding for Kurt and me to follow.
The sun still bright outside, we walked back to the main house. I thought about what it must have been like for Kenneth when he’d come to visit. He’d made it sound so benign, but hadn’t he been affected by the power dynamic here? Or maybe it hadn’t been the same, given the recent argument that Jennifer and Joanna had apparently had some part in. I hoped very much that Kenneth and Naomi would be able to make their future life with as much distance from this compound as possible.
Stephen stopped at a good vantage point away from the scrub oak and motioned to the valley. “Whenever I stand here, looking out at the valley that Brigham Young said was reserved for the Saints, I think about how God has reserved this special piece of land for me and my family. I will always give thanks to Him for all that He gives me every day, however long my life lasts under His hand.”
“It’s a big piece of property. You said you inherited it from your parents?” I asked.
He nodded. “It’s all I have left of my family. If my brother had lived, it would have been ours to share.”
There was something fierce in his attachment to this land. I couldn’t help but wonder if he and his brother would have fought over how to divide it. Surely his brother would have been uncomfortable with Stephen’s call to “the Principle.”
Kurt cleared his throat. “Do you mind my asking about your finances?” he asked. “As a father myself, I’m concerned about the children.”
“I don’t have any secrets,” Stephen said, which I highly doubted.
“You make enough money as a doctor to manage food and housing, plus some college expenses, for more than twenty children?” That was the accountant coming out. He wanted to know the bottom line here.
Stephen turned to us and I could see his smile even as his face blocked out the sun. “It’s a good profession in Utah. Did you know that we as a state have the highest birthrate in the nation?”
“I think I did know that,” Kurt said blandly.
“And your investments with Jennifer must help,” I added.
“Yes, very much so,” said Stephen, glancing at me for a moment before turning back to Kurt. “Shall I show you two my financial statements before we agree to let our children marry?”
“No, no. I didn’t mean that,” Kurt said, looking more soberly out at the same valley.
Stephen began to walk again. I followed him, thinking I’d very much have liked to see his financial statements. I wanted to know how much he had salted away for retirement and whether the wives had their own bank accounts. Did Joanna have enough money to survive until her three children were in school? What about Carolyn? I’d come because of Talitha, but I couldn’t help but think that everyone here needed my help, if only I could figure out what to do for them.