Favorite Wife (33 page)

“Ah . . . and what does your brother, Ervil say? Is he in agreement with this?”

I glanced quickly at Verlan's face, then looked away. Why did people have to be so nosy, especially when they were aware of the problems between the brothers?

“I understand that Ervil is in agreement,” Verlan answered without hesitation. “I have not spoken to him personally.”

“Ah . . . Well, perhaps today you will have the chance. He is just down the road, there,” the man turned and pointed.

Verlan's head snapped up. Oh, no, I said to myself as I searched the road ahead of us, not Ervil again! At the far end of the road by the Widmars' place I could see two men. A familiar knot of foreboding gripped me. Was Ervil's presence in Colonia LeBaron, at the same time as Verlan and Joel were here, a mere coincidence?

Verlan's face was expressionless as he said goodbye to the men in the wagon. He automatically began to move on down the road.

“No! No, Verlan,” I pleaded, grabbing his arm. “Let's don't go this way, please. I don't want to see him; let's cut through the field.”

“Don't be silly,” he snapped. “I'm not about to avoid him, just keep quiet and leave the talking to me.”

“Verlan, I whispered, “tell me how Ervil really feels about your appointment to the presidency. Is he upset about it?”

Verlan stalked along for a few steps before he answered. “It's just like I told Guillermo. I haven't seen Ervil since Joel asked me to take the office. Although Ervil agreed to it, I imagine he's not too happy about it. He knows I'm not the easy-going saint that Joel is. He won't have the free rein that he's enjoyed in the past.”

Verlan glanced up at the two men ahead of us, then said, “I'll tell you one thing. Ervil had better watch himself from now on in regard to his so-called revelations. He's never written even one of them down in the past, at least, not to my knowledge, and I've become somewhat allergic to them. As long as I'm president of the church, I'll make him responsible for every revealed word he claims.”

The man Ervil was talking to hurried away when he saw Verlan and me. Ervil turned toward us, watching our approach as he lounged lazily against the fence post.

“Well, hello, little brother, Susan,” he grunted as we came within earshot. He nodded affably and switched the straw he was chewing to the other side of his mouth.

Verlan gripped his brother's hand, “Ervil, how you doing? I didn't know you was in town.”

Ervil's mouth twisted into a smile. “I figured I should be around to congratulate the new church president.” Eyeing the bundle in Verlan's arms, Ervil straightened upright. “Well, well,” he said. “What do we have here, a baby girl?” He hurriedly glanced at Melanie's face, a dutiful smile on his lips. Then he leaned his huge frame back onto the fence post.

“Verlan, I want you to know you have been my choice all along for president. You're the perfect man for the job, and I told Sigfried so the day I released Joel from the office. I told Sigfried that I consider you one of the greatest princes ever born upon the earth. I meant it, too.” Ervil nodded emphatically, his voice oil-smooth.

Verlan stared at him incredulously, ignoring the flattery. “You released Joel?”

Ervil shrugged. “He was interfering too much with the management of the church, by virtue of his higher office. He was stepping all over my patriarchal rights. Who else should release him?”

Verlan was silent. Ervil kicked his toe against a small bush, digging at it until it broke free of its roots. “Verlan, you know as patriarch I preside directly over the office of president and should have complete say over what decisions are made for the church. It was up to my discretion to release Joel, and I decided to do it weeks ago.”

“Now, isn't that something,” Verlan said evenly. “Joel told me that he released himself from the office, using his higher office of First Grand Head of Priesthood to do it.”

Ervil shook his head. “I'm the one who released him, with you in mind as his successor. He wasn't cutting it as president, Verlan—you know that. I've no doubt that you're better qualified—you have the education and diplomacy that Joel lacks. A position such as president over the church needs a people-person.”

A quizzical look flashed across Verlan's features. “Well, thank you for your vote of confidence. All we want, Ervil, both you and me, is to serve the Lord wherever and however best we can. Isn't that right?”

Ervil frowned, nodding.

I glanced at Verlan. The blue-green eyes locked with Ervil's were devoid of anger, and I instantly respected his self-control. In light of Ervil's lavish, insincere compliments and the derogatory way he spoke of Joel, I wouldn't have been surprised to hear Verlan lash out at him.

“Of course,” Ervil drawled maliciously, “if you don't do a better job than Joel did, you won't last six months.”

Verlan was silent. He kicked at a small stone in the grass, then he looked up again, and said, “I'll do my best and let God be the judge. Well, Susan and I had best be going. See you around.”

My heart pounded as we rounded the corner toward Grandma's. In spite of the calm way the men had spoken to one another, the sparks had been flying. Verlan stalked along next to me, his hand squeezing mine until it hurt. I pulled it away and looked at his face.

“What did he mean, you wouldn't last six months?”

Verlan shook his head. “He means unless I run the church as he dictates, he will release me from the office. Just as he claims to have done Joel.”

“Did he lie about that?”

“Whose word would you take, Ervil's or Joel's?”

Verlan shrugged off the black mood Ervil had left him with and seemed his usual self throughout the short visit with his mother. He walked me only part of the way home again, since he was late for his meeting.

That night when Verlan returned, his eyes were bloodshot. His face looked pale and set in hard lines as he sank onto the bed. Dismayed, I stared at him, waiting for Fara and Ramona to leave the room before I spoke.

“What's happened?”

Verlan raggedly exhaled. “I may as well tell you, I guess. It'll be all over town by tomorrow. Joel released Ervil from the patriarchal office a little while ago.” He closed his eyes, his face gray with pain.

I watched Verlan's agony, tears of sympathy in my eyes. “Don't you think it's high time?” my voice shook as I spoke. “You know it is, you knew it would happen, sooner or later. Ervil's like a possessed man—out to take whatever he wants, regardless of others. He wants to rule, Verlan, to take over the leadership and run things his way. Not God's way—his way, for his own sick glory!”

“Joel and I hoped—hoped he would change,” Verlan dashed the tears from his cheeks, stood up, and pulled off his clothes.

“Maybe the humility of being stripped of his office will make him think,” he whispered. “I pray, Oh, God in Heaven, I pray it does.”

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY-
S
EVEN

W
e dropped off the hill into Los Molinos. The wind blew hard and cold, and Verlan scowled as he fought the steering wheel. Pulling the blanket tighter around Melanie's pint-sized body, I craned my neck to see around Babbitt's water tower, eager for a first glimpse at the new trailer that Brother Joel had moved onto the bare swell of ground across from the Babbitts' place. This was to be my new house, my first real, honest to goodness home since I married Verlan. No more living in with other people—not anymore. I had a child now and had earned the right to have my own place. I hid a grin as I thought about it. My very own home.

Verlan swung the pickup around the corner and braked to a stop, and I stared in mounting horror at the long aluminum hunk of junk sitting on the windswept bare lot. The sun had already set, but there was enough daylight left to clearly reveal the mobile house before us. Orange rust wept down the dented sides. The windows were coated in dust and cobwebs, trash and tumbleweeds lodged against the unskirted sides. A ragged screen door flapped back and forth on one hinge, banging dismally against the side of the trailer.

“Oh, Verlan! Is that it?” I wailed.

“It just needs a little work,” he said cheerfully. “First thing, though, I've got to find you a gas tank. Take the baby in, and I'll see what I can do.”

Swallowing the protests that arose, I covered Melanie with a heavy afghan, grabbed the diaper bag, and stepped out, watching as Verlan backed onto the road. The wind whipped at my hair and at the baby's blanket as the gray pickup bounced down the dirt road.

I gingerly climbed up the rickety wooden steps and opened the trailer door. When I stepped inside, a musty, stale odor assaulted me. Slowly I looked around. Greasy filth clung to the kitchen cupboards, making much of the blond wood appear dark. The small stove was coated in burnt food. Thick dirt blanketed the peeling linoleum floor. The ledges of the bare windows were black with a lining of dead flies. Below the big window at the living room end of the trailer sat a solitary piece of furniture, a grimy orange couch, with cotton oozing out of the torn material.

Aghast, I held Melanie protectively against me. There didn't seem to be one decent spot where I could lay her down. I moved on through the kitchen and into the bedrooms, examining the broken, built-in bunks that clung to the wall in the middle bedroom. In the back, a bare double bed, its mattress heavily stained with urine spots seemed to be the best place.

Sinking cautiously onto the edge of the bed, I held Melanie close, rocking her and nuzzling my face against her sweet-smelling softness. Oh, my darling baby. How could I make her live here? Where had Verlan and Joel discovered this filthy monster? Surely they hadn't paid good money for it. No doubt someone had donated it to the cause of the church, glad to have it taken off their hands. Lucky me!

Every cowardly instinct within me screamed to dash out of this nightmare to the warmth and safety of Aunt Thelma's home. I knew she would welcome us and would let us stay until I could get this horrid place mucked out. But I reluctantly shrugged off the thought. The Chynoweths had put me up for the past seven months, and I couldn't take advantage of their hospitality any longer.

“Okay then, Susie,” I sighed aloud, my words echoing in the trailer, “Don't just sit here feeling sorry for yourself. You may as well get started.” Spreading Melanie's new afghan over the mattress, I put her down and covered her with my coat. She slept peacefully on, her rosebud mouth sucking on a dream nipple.

I hurried outside, stopping momentarily to gaze around the windy little colony as I searched in vain through the twilight for Verlan's truck. Then I dashed across the road to Silvia Babbitt's place and pounded on her trailer door. Silvia was the first wife of Apostle Homer Babbitt. I didn't know her well, since she had only recently moved to Los Molinos now that there was a church-run school for her children to attend.

Silvia's children were huddled around the table over bowls filled with delicious-smelling vegetable stew. The aroma made my eyes water with hunger. The children stared curiously at me as I asked their mother for the loan of a broom, soap, cleaning rags, and a water bucket. “Here,” Silvia said, picking up a lamp, “Take this, too. You'll need some light.” Smiling my thanks, I dashed back outside into the wind. Filling the water bucket at Silvia's pump, I hauled the water and the cleaning things back to my new home.

By the time Verlan returned and had the gas tank hooked up, I had the worst of the dirt and flies swept out and the cobwebs brushed down from the ceiling. As Verlan came in to light the pilots on the stove, I turned to him. “I don't want that couch,” I said. “It stinks. And I'm going to need bedding and dishes, and some food . . .”

“Honey, I know,” he interrupted, “I have some quilts for you in the pickup. Lucy and Irene'll go through their things tomorrow and find you enough of what you'll need to get by.” He walked over to the couch and examined it. “Can't you beat the dust out of this and cover it with a nice blanket? It's not that bad. It's better than no couch at all, isn't it?”

I looked at it doubtfully, “Well, just barely.”

Verlan grinned at me. “You won't be in this trailer very long. I'm sure you can clean it up and make it look real nice.” He strolled over to the door and peered restlessly out the window, searching for a diplomatic way to leave me, to go to his other wives. I had been dreading this moment since we left Colonia LeBaron, and my vision began to blur—my chest raw with anger. Verlan watched me as I attacked a closet with short, sharp digs of the broom.

Suddenly he was next to me, unwinding my fingers from the broom handle. He set it aside and hugged me tight. “Susan, you know I've got to go,” he whispered against my cheek. “I don't have much time to spend with the rest of the family before I leave for Vegas tomorrow. You're going to be okay here. You've got the baby, and you've got neighbors . . . and I'll be back in the morning with some stuff for the house.” He forced my chin up with his finger, making me meet his gaze. “I love you,” he whispered. “See you in the morning, my charm.”

I turned my back as Verlan stepped out the door. How? My rebellious thoughts screamed through my mind, how can he bring us to a run-down, drafty place like this and just dump us off? How can he do it? I slumped against the wall of the trailer, my shoulders shaking with fresh loneliness and despair. Oh, I wanted my mother—I needed to feel her comforting, warm presence. I had never appreciated her enough, growing up, or realized just how much I loved her. Why had I left her? I was so stupid to think I was ready for life on my own. What a little fool I was. I didn't know how to take care of a new baby by myself! What would I do if Melanie got sick, and Mom wasn't there to help me? What a cocky, obnoxious girl I was, to think I could handle married life on my own. I was nuts.

“Stop it, Susan. Stop it,” I finally sighed, wiping the wet, telling proof of my childishness away. I lit the lamp. The trailer looked huge in the shadowy light, and felt uncomfortably cold. Pulling a sweater from my suitcase, I put it on, then turned on a burner and set the bucket of water on the stove to heat. For hours I stubbornly blocked Verlan and my mother out of my mind as I scrubbed the trailer, carrying the lamp back and forth. Melanie awoke around midnight. I nursed her, then moved her to the blanket-covered couch and attacked the bed, beating the dirt and dust out of the mattress. Tomorrow I would take it outside and scrub it. For now, it would have to do. No smooth sheets tonight, I thought, as I spread out the remaining quilts and placed Melanie between them. Shivering, I undressed and got in next to her. I pulled her tiny body into the crook of my arm and blew out the lamp.

As I lay in the ghastly shadows of the trailer, the wind rattled and beat against the metal sides, causing my exhausted body to flinch with nervousness. I finally allowed myself to think about Verlan, to remember how wonderful he'd been during our time together in Colonia LeBaron. I had become accustomed to being with him, to the warmth of his body lying next to mine at night. Between us had sprung companionship and closeness. For a week or so, I had actually felt like he was my husband. Well, now we were back to the reality of polygamy. My possessive dependency on Verlan had been ripped away the moment we entered Los Molinos, with its various houses filled with his other wives and children. He'd spent so many days and nights with just me, that I would be the last on his list of priorities for many weeks to come. I couldn't expect anything else. I would have to get used to being on my own again. Slowly I relaxed and drifted into unconsciousness.

I slept late the following morning, loath to pull my exhausted body from the warm blankets. The wind had died down a bit, but still rattled the windows. Shivering, I dressed and put my sweater back on. My stomach growled, and I longed to go to Aunt Thelma's and beg something to eat. Just as I made my mind up to do it, Verlan arrived, bringing Irene and Lucy to see me.

The women had their arms full of sheets and towels, dishes and cooking utensils. They presented them to me, waving away my thanks. “They're not much,” Irene shrugged. “They're not new, but they'll get you by. And here, I brought you a plate of potatoes and eggs.”

“Well, where is she?” Lucy demanded as I shoveled food in my mouth. “We want to see that new baby. Verlan says she's just beautiful.”

“She is,” I smiled, putting my plate down and leading the way to the back bedroom.

“Oh, Susan! Look at all that black hair!” Irene crooned, unwrapping Melanie and admiring her from head to foot. “Verlan's never had a more lovely baby, has he, Lucy.”

“Never,” Lucy agreed. She smiled at Verlan, who had followed us and was lounging against the closet. He was fresh-shaven, and dolled up in his pale-blue Western shirt and creamy Levi's. He looked relaxed and wonderful, and had no doubt spent a comfortable, intimate night with some lucky woman, somewhere.

Irene straightened upright. “Well, dearie, I'd like to visit, but we can't stay. I've got the washing machine running. But I'll be by to have a long visit with you when I'm done.”

As Verlan followed the ladies out the door, he slipped me a ten-dollar bill. “Charlotte'll come by to take you to town for groceries later on this afternoon,” he said. “I'll stop in to see you before I leave town.”

Yes, I thought, watching his silver pickup pull away. Then you'll be gone again, for a month or six weeks perhaps . . . I shrugged the thought away. I couldn't think about that now.

In the early afternoon, I walked down the gentle incline of the hill the mile to Aunt Thelma's. I needed to let them know I was back and to introduce Melanie.

Once the baby had been passed around, admired, and the family news caught up on, Aunt Thelma looked me speculatively up and down. “How soon do you think you'll feel like getting involved with the school, Susie? We really need you, now that Lucy and Charlotte's kids are living here.”

“As soon as I'm settled and can find someone who'll take care of the baby,” I said promptly.

“Good. Talk to Steve as soon as you can, will you? He needs to know what to plan on.”

I nodded, watching Aunt Thelma's deft movements as she put dough into bread pans. How strange it was that life seemed to be going on just as usual for the Chynoweths. They made no secret of backing Ervil's rebellion against Joel, yet Aunt Thelma continued to teach at the school and still led the music at church. Where, I wondered, would it all lead? What would be the outcome? I stayed and visited for an hour, then Mark loaded my few belongings into their pickup and carted me back up the hill to my trailer.

“It's gonna' seem strange not having you live with us,” he commented as he carried my guitar and bags up the steps. Once inside the door, he stopped short and looked around, his hazel eyes wide. “Wow! I figured this place for a dump, but . . . When's ol' Verlan going to make you a decent house?” He dropped my things on the couch, then wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Soon. It won't be much longer, and this will do just fine until then.” My voice had sharpened at his critical tone.

Mark shook his head but refrained from further comment. He stayed and visited with me for a couple of hours, and I knew he hated to leave. He sensed the emptiness I felt and, in his own fumbling way, wanted to make up for it.

I dove busily into fixing up the old trailer. In the bottom of one of the boxes Irene had brought, I found some long, ruffled yellow curtains, enough for the living room windows. Silvia loaned me her iron and ironing board, and soon the curtains were hanging in front of sparkling clean windows. I stood back and admired them, delighted at the way they brightened up the atmosphere in my new abode. A tablecloth covered the rust on the tabletop, and turning one of Lucy's old Levi quilts over to the plain blue underside, it made a fine enough bedspread. By the time Verlan returned to tell me goodbye, the trailer actually looked presentable.

“See,” he said approvingly. “I knew you would manage. You're going to get by just fine, sweetie. And I'll be back before you know it.” His fierce hug enveloped me. Then with a smile and a wave, he was gone.

It was late in the day when Irene and Charlotte came to take me to town for groceries. Charlotte sat behind the wheel of the old family pickup, lightly tapping the horn as she drew to a stop. Her oldest daughter, Rhea, hurried up the steps and pounded on my door.

“I'm so glad you're finally here,” Rhea declared, a happy grin spreading across her face as she saw Melanie. “Oh! Susan, she's precious!” she exclaimed. She took the baby from my arms, her eyes soft with instant devotion. “Hi, Melanie,” she crooned, moving to the couch and cradling the baby in her lap. “I'm your big sister, Rhea. Aren't you just the sweetest thing . . .”