Sister Wife (11 page)

Daddy, who has been upstairs comforting Mother, calls me from the doorway. “Celeste, I want to see you in the barn.”

When we were small children, those dreaded words would have meant we were in for a whipping, but once Nanette and I reached age twelve, Daddy quit reaching for the whip and just talked to us. I nod and follow him across the side yard.

Sitting across the desk from him, I notice the dark smudges under his eyes. Sometimes I wonder how he manages to lord over so many people. Do any of the men of The Movement ever wish they had fewer wives and children? I shake my head and push the thought away. That would be against the principles that the Prophet has laid out. Our men know they need at least three wives before they can enter the Kingdom of Heaven. More than three is preferred.

“Where were you this morning, Celeste?” Daddy asks me, his voice weary.

I close my eyes to relieve the burning sensation. There has been so much crying today. First Taviana. Then Colleen. Should I do the right thing and tell him the truth? I open my eyes and swallow hard. “I was feeling so sad about Taviana leaving that I...” I haven't told the lie yet. I can still do the right thing. I don't. “I went for a walk to clear my head.”

“To clear your head?”

“Yes.”

“Celeste, do I need to remind you that with your mother in bed you are needed at home more than ever?”

Perhaps I am possessed by the devil. I simply don't know why I say some of the things that I do. The words
just blurt out of my mouth. “If that's the case, Father, then I don't think this would be a good time for me to be married.”

I have closed my burning eyes again, but I can feel him staring at me. A full minute passes before he replies. “If it weren't for your age, Celeste,” he says finally, “I'd take the strap off the wall and whip that contrariness right out of you.”

I don't comment, but I open my eyes and stare at my feet.

“I just hope that whoever you are assigned to does a better job with you than I have.”

“I just hope that I don't die in childbirth at seventeen years old.”

Father sighs. “It is not for us to question the ways of the Lord,” he says.

“Are we finished here?” I ask him. “I need to get back to preparing dinner.”

“Not quite. First of all, I want you to know that I didn't intend to simply push Taviana out the door of the truck and leave her in Springdale, on her own. I planned to speak to people I knew, to see if I could help find her some work.” He shakes his head. “But she wouldn't let me. I suggested we go to the church. They would find shelter for her, but again, she refused my offer of help.”

Taviana and her pride. Why couldn't she have swallowed it just this once?

“We don't have much money, as you know, Celeste, but I was able to get her to take one hundred dollars, to tide
her over until she finds work. It was a gift, but she insists that she'll repay it.”

“I'm sure she will.”

“She won't go hungry for a few days anyway.”

I nod. If he's expecting me to applaud him for his generosity, he's mistaken.

“Promise me there will be no more disappearing,” he says.

“Promise me I won't be assigned to a husband,” I respond.

He glares at me as he gets to his feet. “It's been a long day, Celeste. Your disrespect is not appreciated.”

He's right about that. It has been an incredibly long day, and there are an endless number of chores yet to be done. I follow him across the yard to the house.

Chapter Ten

I
t's as though the time I spent in Unity never even happened. I'm standing on a sidewalk, alone, with one hundred dollars in my pocket. I have nowhere to go, nothing to do. Did I just dream the past eighteen months into existence?

One part of me, the part that felt at home in Unity, tells me to get on with it, find a place to live and some kind of work. The other part of me, the part that's longing for a little excitement, wants me to ditch my suitcase in a locker at the bus station and explore the town. After very little soul-searching, that's the part of me that wins out.

I wander the streets looking for...I'm not sure what. The usual businesses are all here, the services, the community center. The kids are in school. There's really not much to explore after all, and I quickly grow bored. It's a familiar sensation, this lack of purpose. It's the way I lived for years. I notice how easy it is to leave behind the girl I was in
Unity and slip back into my old self. An uneasiness gnaws at my stomach. How long before I slide right back to my old lifestyle, the me I was before I moved to Unity? When I lived there, I temporarily became someone different, someone in a long dress, an apron and practical shoes. That girl learned to fit into her new community, to be good and obedient. Is there no way to blend the two me's?

I round a corner and stumble upon the library. A smile bubbles up from deep inside. It's like running into an old friend. I've spent countless hours in libraries, keeping warm, using the washroom, reading, surfing the net. That was the best part, being able to escape my life and enter an entirely new one for a few hours.

The librarian smiles at me when I push open the door. I smile back and savor the dusty smell of old books. The New Arrivals display is right by the entrance. One of the book covers is intriguing, and I pick it up and read the description on the back flap.
A story of romance, of regret, of redemption. This is the gripping tale of a woman haunted by her past
. Except for the romance part, this could be my life. I think of Celeste, how she loves stories and how I wish I could see her set loose in a library. It would truly be heaven on earth for her. But that's not going to happen.

Taking the book with me, I head over to the racks of DVDs and scan the titles. This would really boggle Celeste's mind. There is no end of stories. I continue wandering through the library until I come to a bank of computers and plunk myself down at an available one.

An hour passes before I drag my eyes away from the screen. I've just brought myself up to date on what has happened in the world in the past couple of years. It still boggles my mind that the people in Unity are completely unaware of what is going on out here. Maybe that's a good thing. Most of the news is dreary, and there's nothing anyone can do about it anyway.

I'm approaching the checkout with my book when I remember that I can't borrow it. The kind librarian reads my face. “Do you need to apply for a card?” she asks.

I nod, and she slides a sheet of paper across the counter to me. “Just fill out this application form and return it with some identification that includes your address.”

That settles it. I have no address, no phone number and no identification. I used to be able to use my mother's, but that was another town. I guess I won't be getting a library card.

“I'll bring it back tomorrow,” I tell her, placing the novel back on the shelf. I shove the form in my pocket and head out the door, empty-handed, feeling like I've just been turned away from the soup kitchen.

The soup kitchen. My stomach growls and I remember passing a row of fast-food restaurants just around the corner. Fast food. My mouth waters at the thought of biting into a burger oozing with tangy sauce. I retrace my steps, passing places that offer fried chicken, tacos and submarine sandwiches. They all sound good, but I know what I want for my first meal back in the real world. I order a cheese and bacon burger, French fries and a Coke. Extra large.

Unwrapping the burger from the paper, I lick the excess relish off it, savoring the experience. The first bite is so good I hardly swallow before I'm taking the second one. Then I shovel in a handful of salty French fries and slurp down a mouthful of Coke. This is a complete and welcome change from all those wholesome meals I ate in Unity. I repeat the process but force myself to slow down.

When the burger is half gone, my stomach suddenly retaliates. It bloats and gurgles. I gaze at the remaining food. The paper that the hamburger was wrapped in is saturated with grease, as is the container half full of fries. Now my stomach lurches. Getting up, I throw the rest of the food in the garbage and race to the bathroom.

Half an hour later, when the cramps have passed, I'm again wandering around town. I find myself at a park and figure that this is where kids my age will gather at the end of their school day. I should be able to hook up with some of them then.

I cut across the grass and down the bank to the river. The day is getting warm and I decide to wade barefoot in the water, something that is taboo for girls in Unity, who even swim in their long dresses. Crossing the rocky beach, I spot a cluster of rock shapes farther down the river. Remembering Celeste's experience here, I wander over to take a look.

As I get closer, I'm stunned by what I see and now understand why Celeste had to check to see if the stones were glued together. The towers really do appear to defy gravity, they balance so precariously. Large stones, point down, perch on smaller stones, which in turn are carefully
balanced on the stones beneath them. Each one is a small miracle. I circle around them and wonder why their creator would build these unique works of art here, where anyone could knock them over.

I decide that this is as good a place as any to wade into the river. Squatting down, I pull off my shoes and socks and roll up my jeans. The stones are sharp under my feet, but I hobble across the beach and wade into the water. It is ice-cold, and all my senses snap to attention. I wade out to where a boulder juts out of the water and scramble onto it.

The sun is warm, and I stretch out across the flat top of the huge rock. The heat on my skin and the soothing sound of the rushing water makes me sleepy. I lie back and close my eyes.

Sometime later I wake from my nap. Sitting up, I look around and discover I am no longer alone. The rock balancer is back on the job.

I sit as still as I can and watch him. He must know I'm here—my shoes and socks are heaped in the center of his circle of balanced rocks—but he's in total concentration. His current project already has two base rocks, one balancing on the other. Now he is cradling a third one in his hands. His feet are spread apart and his knees are bent, as if he too is balanced. He gently touches the new rock to the structure but does not appear to loosen his grip on it. Ever so slightly he moves the rock around the thin tip of the one he is placing it on. He is totally focused on the task, and if I didn't know better, I'd say he was hypnotized by it. Five, ten minutes pass. He is still trying to find the point of
balance for his new rock. Now I see him slowly letting go of the rock. It stays. He straightens up and takes a step back. A new rock balance has been created. I feel like I've just seen a performance, and I begin to clap wildly. He appears to wake out of a trance as his head snaps around to look at me. For a brief moment I'm afraid he'll be mad that I was watching, that this was a private moment for him, but then his face breaks into a goofy grin and he bows.

I climb off my boulder and wade back through the water to the beach. “That's amazing!” I say as I stumble toward him. “I can't believe I saw you balance that rock there. I would have sworn it was impossible.”

“Anything is possible,” he tells me, still grinning.

“So why do you do this, this rock-balancing thing?” I ask him. I've plunked myself down on the beach to pull on my socks and shoes.

“Because I enjoy it,” he says. He's still smiling.

“That's it? Just because you like it?”

“What other reason do I need?”

There's something really appealing about this guy. He seems so naturally serene. I suspect he goes around with a smile on his face all the time. “I dunno. Maybe because it brings you peace or it's a spiritual experience or it's how you worship Mother Nature.”

“Yep, it's all of those things too. It's whatever you want it to be.”

“Hmm.” I admire the formations for a few moments. “A friend of mine said she was here, and she accidentally toppled one over.”

He tilts his head and frowns. “Was that the girl with the long skirt? From Unity?”

“Yeah, that was her.”

“I felt terrible, scaring her off like that. I wanted to talk to her.”

“No chance of that. Girls from there aren't permitted to talk to guys like you.”

“Guys like me?”

“Guys period. But especially with guys who aren't from The Movement.”

“That's a shame. There was something very...very sweet about her.”

“Innocent. They are completely sheltered from the real world.”

“How do you know this girl?”

“I lived with her family for over a year.”

“But you're not one of them?”

“Hey! How can you tell?” I look down at my T-shirt and jeans and then back at him. “Don't I look sweet and innocent?”

“Yeah, but...” he blushes.

“Okay, you're right.” I smile and let him off the hook. “But they took me in for a while and helped me get out of a bad space I was in. Now they've kicked me out, but that's okay. I'm a better person for it.”

“Why'd they kick you out?” He has joined me, sitting on the beach. I see that his hands are busy stacking pebbles, one on top of the other.

“The Prophet decided I was a danger to their way of life. It's okay, I'm not one of them and never would be.”

“This girl, the one I met on the beach, do you think she could be the one who is building inuksuks in Unity?”

“Yeah, I know she is.”

He gets a funny look on his face. “Then I have been communicating with her, just not in words.”

I study his profile. His features are fine, almost chiseled. He wears his black hair long and tucks it behind his ears. He's exotic looking, and I wonder what his family background is. “What's your name?” I ask.