Sundry Days (14 page)

Chapter 26

Rebekah

Master and Wife

Walter is the head of this household. He’s the master of this house. So he’s called Master, not father, by Willa and the other children. Sally calls him Husband.  I call him nothing. I refuse to look at him.

“You’ll get beat,” Willa warns me, “if you’re defiant.”

I don’t care. He’s already slapped me a few times when I’ve refused to acknowledge him. But mostly he ignores me now.

It’s been almost a week that I’ve been in this hell. I’m a prisoner here. But Sabbath is coming. It’s the only day of the week that females are allowed out of their houses. Everyone goes to the meeting house on Sabbath for communal worship. I’ll see David. I have to see David. Somehow we’ve got to figure out a way to get out of here.

Willa is sweet. She and Sally are kind to me. They’re prisoners, too. Everyone who doesn’t have a penis in Eden Falls is a prisoner. But they’ve accepted their fate. What else can they do?

Willa is supposed to marry Jacob soon. Then he’ll be her master. She’s only 14.

“I think he’ll be a good master,” she says. “And he’s not hard to look at. Last year Naomi had to marry Master Byron, and he’s probably as old as my father. His skin looks like leather. And he’s got a real big belly. I bet he crushes her when he does his duty. At least Master Jacob is young for a master.”

He’s 45.

Naomi, who belonged to her father, Master Gilbert, until she began to bleed and was ready for marriage, was about Willa’s age when she had to marry Master Byron.

These are the kinds of things Willa tells me, to help get me acclimated to Eden Falls. She figures I’ll eventually be given in marriage to a master of my own.

I tell her there’s no way I’m marrying anyone from here. It’s not going to happen. And no man is ever going to be my master. I tell her how David and I were tricked into coming here. I tell her David is the only man who’ll ever be my husband.

She looks at me with wide, unbelieving eyes.

“That’s not how things work here,” she says.

The only time Sally and Willa go outdoors is when they tend to the patch of land directly behind the house, where they grow tomatoes and other vegetables for household use. Some herbs, too. Each of the big houses has a garden.  And sometimes, when we’re out there, we can see other women and girls weeding or watering. But there’s no talking to them. No shouting out: “Hello, how are you surviving this hell?” It’s not allowed.

I’ve got to get out of here. I’m losing my mind.  My life in Seneca Falls seems like a sweet dream compared to this.

Willa is the only girl child sired by Walter. She’s also the oldest. She was considered a gift from The Designer, a blessing, I’m told. A girl born first is a rare thing.  A girl born at all is a rare thing. But over time, almost every household eventually manages to produce at least one.

Because I’ve been “used,” as they put it here, Willa thinks it may be a while before it’s decided who will get me. I’m not as young as first-time brides are supposed to be, plus I’m an outsider.  From time to time, women from the outside are brought into Eden Falls.  Probably tricked like I was, I assume. And outsiders are typically “used” by the time they get here.

“Trula was an outsider,” says Willa. “She married Master Zac a few years ago.”

The men in charge—the twelve “Righteous Ones,” as they’re called—make all the rules and decide who gets married when. I gather it depends on which man needs or deserves a wife at the time a female becomes available.

I share Willa’s bed at night. We’re both locked in for safe-keeping. From what, I don’t know.  Probably to keep me from running away. But where would I go?  I have no idea where they put David.

Willa has four brothers.  All, except the youngest, who’s still a toddler, are assigned chores in the compound most days, and only come home to eat and sleep. They also go to school part of the day in the meeting house.

Willa has never been to school.

“It’s not fitting for girls to learn to read,” she says. Why would they need to? It’s prudent for boys to know how to read and do numbers, in case they ever need to go to Winnipeg when they’re grown, to bring the milled grain to market or do trading.

But a woman’s duties don’t require any formal schooling. Women cook, clean, lie on their backs for their husbands, have babies, and take care of their children until they can’t do any of that anymore.

Sally and Willa are interested to know that I’ve had quite a bit of formal education, though they don’t see what good it will do, except for my nursing skills.

Sally says I’ll probably become a midwife.

“I know how do a lot more than help deliver babies,” I say, though I don’t know why I’m telling them this, since I’ll kill myself rather than remain here.

“I can set bones, suture wounds, and I know remedies for many illnesses. Do you have someone here in Eden Falls who does those things now?”  I’m just curious to know.

There’s currently no one with healing skills in Eden Falls. When people here become seriously injured or very ill, they usually die, according to Sally.

She says she thinks the Righteous Ones will probably allow me to treat women and children. But not men. It wouldn’t be right for a female to touch a man who isn’t her husband.

Sally and Willa are supposed to teach me how to cook and do the other household chores expected of women and girls. I’m not a willing student.  But I feel sorry for them both—as well as for myself—so I try not to give them a hard time.

Walter and the older boys return home for the midday meal, and then at sundown for supper. But the only person allowed to initiate conversation at meals is Walter.

“Is the girl being cooperative, Wife?” he asks Sally.

“Yes, Husband,” she replies meekly. She doesn’t want me to get a beating.

Then he turns to his daughter.

“Be sure she doesn’t fill your head with nonsense, Willa. She comes from a bad place, and it’s your responsibility while she’s here to teach her about our rightful ways.”

Willa just nods.

Walter doesn’t address me directly at all.  He knows I won’t respond.

At night, in her room, Willa and I talk quietly in the dark.  Sometimes she asks me personal things, things she can’t ask her mother. Jacob may not look too bad to her, but it’s clear she’s afraid about what’s to come with him.

“What’s it like to be used, Rebekah?” she asks in a shy whisper.

“I’m not used. Don’t say that word. When a woman and a man come together because they love each other, because they choose to be with each other, sex can be a joyful thing.”

“But it hurts, right? And you bleed from it. You’re supposed to bleed. That’s what Mama said.”

“It can hurt a little the first time. Your insides have to stretch to fit the man. And there’s usually some blood. But after you get adjusted to having your husband inside of you, it can be very pleasurable.”

She doesn’t believe me.

Probably just as well. I doubt she’ll ever get any pleasure from Jacob. Oh, how I hate that man.

“This isn’t the only way of life there is,” I tell Willa. “It’s a problem being a woman wherever you are.  That’s true enough. In the Coalition women are now required to have at least five husbands at one time. But men don’t consider themselves masters of their households. And women are respected and honored. It’s women who make the rules, make the choices.”

“I’ve heard about plural marriage.  It’s a sin.  They say it’s the worst sin there is. And I think it must be terrible to have five husbands.”

“Well, it’s never been what I wanted. That’s for sure,” I tell her. “That’s why David and I ran away from the Coalition.  I only ever want one husband—David—and he only wants one wife. We only want each other. We thought this would be a place where we could live together the way we want to live. We couldn’t have been more wrong.”

“I’m sorry for you, Rebekah,” Willa says before going to sleep. “And for me, too,” she adds in a sad whisper.

Chapter 27

David

Founding Fathers

I’m free to leave if I want to, that’s what Jacob says. But not with Rebekah.  She’s not free to do anything. And not with the sun-cycle.

I’m not permitted to charge it.  The sun-cycle is off limits.

I was given our backpacks. They probably figured there was no harm in me having a toothbrush, razor and extra clothes.  Evidently they didn’t examine too closely what else was in them. Poor Rebekah was given nothing. Not even her sea sponges.

So I can leave, if I want to walk out of here by myself, taking with me the backpacks and nothing else. I can try to find my way back to Winnipeg alone on foot.  Jacob is pretty sure I’d die in the wilderness. He’s probably right.

“Listen, David, I know you’re upset,” he says.

Upset? I would kill him if I could.

“But you can have a good life here,” he insists. “You have skills that we need. You’d be a valuable asset to Eden Falls. And if you apply yourself, and become one of us, you could be chosen as a Righteous One when you’re older. You could be master of your own household. You have the potential. I’m sure of that.  We need fresh bloodlines here. You’d be given a wife then—most likely a newly ripened little thing. And in the meantime, I’d make sure you got included when we make trips to Winnipeg. You’d be able to partake then, of what Winnipeg has to offer.”

That piece of shit hypocrite. It’s no mystery what he was doing in the Birch and Bay. He wasn’t just stopping by for breakfast when we saw him there that morning. He didn’t just come to Winnipeg by himself to negotiate trade deals.

“I want Rebekah, and I want her now,” I spit out at him.

I’ve been staying in Jacob’s house since we got here almost a week ago. He just inherited the place from a “Righteous One”—how I hate that term—who recently died. The dead man’s wife—who was a whole lot younger than he was—got quickly married off to another man whose wife had died in childbirth, and moved in with him along with her kids. I take it that widows—if they’re still relatively young and fertile—don’t stay widows for long around here.

People in Eden Falls may technically be monogamous.  But that doesn’t mean they only get one marriage each over their lifetimes.

Meanwhile Jacob, who’d been living with the other single men, got promoted. The others must have recognized his natural leadership abilities and slimy ways.

There’s a real old lady who’s serving as Jacob’s housekeeper until he gets married, which will be soon. But for now he’s got the whole house to himself.

His bride-to-be is a 14-year-old girl who lives in the house where Rebekah was taken. Jacob is really looking forward to his wedding.

I think about going to his room at night and strangling him while he sleeps.  I could probably do it.  I’m strong enough. But what good would it do?

I can’t even imagine how terrible all this must be for Rebekah. I’m really worried about her.  They treat women like breeding stock around here. What were we thinking to come here?

Somehow, I’ve got to get to her.  We’ve got to figure out a way to escape. There’s got to be a way.

They don’t let women out of their houses except on Sabbath, which is coming up. I’ll see her then.

I’ve been praying to The Designer that she’s okay—that she stays okay and no one hurts her.

They pray a lot around here, too.  But not to the same unknowable creator I do. Their idea of The Designer is an old man with a long white beard and white robes, who lives somewhere up in the sky.  He’s mainly concerned about the well-being of men. He stopped making women in equal numbers a long time ago because they’re inferior creatures and get men into trouble if they’re not controlled.

During the day, I’m assigned to the mill or hydro-works.  I have to admit I’m interested in their workings.  I can see things that need fixing and improving. It takes my mind off the mess we’re in for a while.

Then, after work, Jacob tries his best to indoctrinate me.  Sometimes we go to evening meetings attended by all the men, including the younger ones, who all seem like idiots to me.  They talk about their work, and issues that impact the community—like what to plant and when, and what kind of trade goods they’ll be needing from Winnipeg. And there’s also communal prayer followed by sermonizing.

I gather that a lot of the sermonizing and storytelling is for my benefit.  Everyone wants to be sure newcomers appreciate the hallowed history of Eden Falls.

Seems that long ago—they’re not specific about how long ago—their forefathers lived in this terribly flawed place called New Eden, somewhere far south of here.

In New Eden women got the blasphemous notion that they were as important as men—maybe even more so because they were the ones giving birth.  They demanded—demanded, can you believe?—that they have a say in how things were done.  The men in New Eden didn’t control their women like The Designer expects men to do.  Some right-thinking men were left out in the cold, with no hope of ever having a wife.

One day, an especially righteous man had a vision. The Designer spoke to him directly and told him to go forth from New Eden with eleven other right-thinking men, and establish a new community in the uncharted wilderness, which had been uncharted wilderness ever since The Great Flood. They took with them six very young girls—some not even ripe.  Stole them from their homes, I gather.  The girls had to be very young so that they weren’t yet contaminated by the evil-thinking of New Eden women.

Along the way, the founding fathers stole other girls, whenever they had the opportunity.  And eventually, they all arrived at the promised land, which they named Eden Falls, because of the blessed waterfall, of course, which was put there by The Designer just for them.

How did Rebekah and I ever end up in this place, I ask myself.  How could we have been so stupid? So trusting?

I’ve got to get to Rebekah. We’ve got to get out of here. There has to be a way.

When the Sabbath comes, I’ll try to talk to her, if they’ll let me.  At least I’ll get to see her. She’s strong-willed. She’s always been strong-willed. If we both stay strong, maybe we can survive this.

For now, I do the only thing I can think to do.

I pray.