The Chosen One (13 page)

He doesn’t look at me.

“Kyra Leigh Carlson,” Prophet Childs says, still staring out those big windows. He doesn’t look at me. He just watches out the windows. Below, people are coming to life, men heading toward fields, some women hanging washed clothes on lines to dry. “Do you understand what adultery is?”

“Umm,” I say.

I can’t look away from Joshua. He’s so bruised I want to go to him. Smooth his face with my hands. Touch his split lips with my mouth. Comfort him with hugs. I feel too shocked to answer.

“Adultery is lusting after someone you are not meant to be with,” Prophet Childs says.

Now he turns. I look at the Prophet. There is no smile on his face. No warmth there. What I see scares me.

“God has chosen who you are to marry,” Prophet Childs says. “In the belly of the Temple, He let me know the man you will spend eternity with. And you have been with this boy.”

“We didn’t do anything,” Joshua says.

“You asked for her hand,” Prophet Childs said. “You said you loved her. You met her after dark.”

Prophet Childs walks toward me. Without meaning to, I back up.

“I would never have an adulteress as a wife,” he says.

I swallow.

“What you have done is an abomination. Women were stoned for less in the Bible,” he says.

All at once I think I’m going to die. They are going to kill me the way they did Ellen. The way they killed Sister Janie’s tiny baby.

“I didn’t do anything,” I say.

Uncle Hyrum slaps me with the back of his hand. Tears sting my eyes and my nose starts to run. I actually see stars.

“Ow,” I say.

“No,” Joshua says, leaping to his feet.

Brother Laramie hits Joshua so hard in the face blood splatters against the wall. He falls to the floor and I run to him, but Uncle Hyrum catches me in his arms. How can he be so strong? How can he be so old and so strong? He’s pinned my arms to my sides. But I struggle anyway, kicking at his shins, twisting this way and that.

The Prophet is in my face. I can smell his breath. It’s sweet as sugar. “If he will have you, you will be free.” The words come out slow, one-at-a-time slow.

At first I think Joshua, if Joshua will have me, then I’ll be free. Uncle Hyrum sets me loose and looks at me with such an angry glare that I realize the “he” is my uncle. For a moment I have hope. Uncle Hyrum is so angry. So angry.

Maybe, just maybe, I won’t have to marry him.

Maybe, just maybe, God has heard my prayers and I’m safe.

Maybe, just maybe, I can be with Joshua.

“Apostle Carlson, will you still take the girl?”

I look to my uncle, whose arms are like bands, shaking my head. My nose is still running. I wipe my lip and when I pull my hand away, I see blood.

“I can keep her in line,” he says after a few moments. “I’ve trained the others. I can train her.”

I don’t know why, but my knees give out. I fall to the floor. From where I’m lying, I can see Joshua. He reaches for me. He’s bleeding and his eye is swollen shut. I crawl fast as I can to him, reaching his hand, grabbing it for a moment. A shiny shoe smashes into our hands and I scream.

“This isn’t truth,” Joshua says, pushing himself up. “None of this is. We didn’t do anything.”

“Blasphemer,” Uncle Hyrum says. His voice is a hiss, the way a snake might sound if it could talk.

For a second I think of Satan, and that snake in the Garden of Eden. Did he sound like Uncle Hyrum does?

“You don’t beat people to keep them in line,” Joshua says. I’m not sure how he gets to his feet, he’s that hurt, and seeing him like this, because of me, makes me weep. I sob. He’s next to me in a moment, touching my hair, pulling me to my feet.

“Take him away,” Prophet Childs says.

“No!” I say. I’m loud. I put my arms around Joshua’s waist and hold tight to him.

“Wait, wait,” Joshua says. “Just listen.”

But they don’t. Brother Nelson and Brother Laramie reach for Joshua. It’s a short tug-of-war as they pull him away from me. They wrench his arm up behind him.

“Stop it!” I’m screaming. “Let him go!”

Joshua swears and shouts how this is not God’s true church. “God would never demand this,” he says, and his voice is all alone in the room.

There’s not another sound until Prophet Childs says, “Get thee behind me, Satan.”

And he turns his back on Joshua and looks out the window toward the Temple again.

I try to follow as they drag Joshua away. I throw myself after him.

“Run,” Joshua says to me. “Get free, Kyra. Find me. Find me when you can. I’ll be waiting.”

“I’m going with him,” I say to Prophet Childs. I try to run past Uncle Hyrum, but he grabs me again.

“Let me go.” My voice is one I don’t recognize.

The door closes.

For a minute I think I might scream every bit of life out of me. But I bite my tongue.

“The ceremony will still be,” Prophet Childs says.

“I won’t do it,” I say.

The Prophet looks back out his big window. I wonder how the God Squad will get Joshua out of this building without being seen. Or maybe they don’t care who sees what they’ve done. Of course they don’t. Standing here, I remember more than one person paraded down the street for others to see. To teach us all a lesson. Sometimes those people showed up in church meetings. Sometimes we never saw them again. Not a lot of people. Mostly The Chosen Ones do what they are told. But I’m not so sure I can.

“Only you can save him,” Prophet Childs says after a few quiet moments.

My whole body goes cold. “What do you mean?” My voice is a whisper.

Uncle Hyrum rocks back on his heels, but the scowl never leaves his face. He squeezes my wrists in his hands. Pinches at my skin.

“Only you can save Joshua Johnson,” Prophet Childs says. He doesn’t look at me. Just keeps staring out at the Temple.

I say nothing.

“You marry who God has chosen for you to marry.”

“You do as God tells you to do.”

“You are obedient.”

Now Prophet Childs turns and faces me.

“Or else.”

The Prophet looks at Uncle Hyrum. “Discipline?” he says.

Uncle Hyrum gives just one nod of his head. “Girl, you have your first lesson to learn right now,” Uncle Hyrum says and he balls his hands into fists.

WHEN THE BEATING STARTS
, I think of Mozart. Concentrate on Mozart. Wish for Mozart to come back from the dead and sweep me away.

MY FACE IS BRUISED
, one eye closing shut, both lips busted, split wide-open. I feel that with my tongue.

“The lesson of the kingdom,” Uncle Hyrum says. He wipes his hands on a towel that one of the God Squad brought him. “Be glad it isn’t worse, Miss Kyra.”

I’m too busy crying to answer.

The Prophet doesn’t even look my way, just dismisses us both with a wave like he’s grown bored.

MOTHER FAINTS
when she sees me. Laura screams and runs for help. I lie down on the sofa and Margaret hurries to the bathroom. I hear her running water. She comes back with a wet cloth.

“Here,” she says. I can almost not hear her voice.

Carolina looks at me with wide eyes, then starts crying. Then my other mothers are there. Mother Victoria rushes to my mother, who looks like a broken doll, that braid twisting away from her head like a rope. Mother Claire pulls me onto her lap. Tears fall from her eyes.

“Kyra,” she says.

Please
, I think.
No more preaching. No more
. I wonder if I will have to use Mozart to drown her out. I wonder if he will be with me again.

“I tried to run,” she says, her voice a whisper.

I grow paper-thin. This woman, the meanest of my father’s wives,
she
tried to get away?

Her voice is low in my ear.

I look at her through one eye. I hear Mother Victoria murmuring to my mother, hear her go into the kitchen and start herbs to boiling on the stove.

“There’s no getting away.” Mother Claire strokes my hair, touches her lips to my bruises, lets her finger trace the cuts. “I tried three times. They meant to break me. But the man who was supposed to be my husband, he wouldn’t have me. Called me wild. Said I was a whore. So I got your father instead. A blessing if ever there was any.”

Her voice is like cotton. Her fingers almost not there. I must be lost.

Mother Claire puts her arms around me. “I’m here,” she says.

She hums, and I lean against her shoulder, letting her rock me.

FATHER COMES RUNNING
into our home, slinging the door open.

“What in the hell?” he says when he sees me. “Who did this, Kyra?” He kneels before me, still cradled in Mother Claire’s arms.

“Hyrum,” Mother Claire says.

He leaves. And is gone for hours. The sun has set.

Finn brings a rumor that Sheriff Felix will be running several boys off the Compound.
Please
, I think, though my prayers haven’t helped me at all,
please let Joshua still be alive
.

Mother goes to bed with Carolina and Margaret. My other mothers go home to their families. I stay up, sitting in the dark, waiting for Father. There’s a knock on the door, then Emily walks in, grinning until she sees my face.

“Oh Kyra, oh Kyra,” she says. “Mother said to visit. She did. She said to visit. She says to tell you.”

“Tell me what, Emily?” I say.

Laura comes into the living room with us. She turns on the light over the stove, opens the oven door so that light shines too. Outside a soft wind blows. Someone’s dog barks like crazy, then stops with a yelp.

Emily, simple Emily, hovers near me. She kisses my hairline.

“Kyra,” she says, her speech slurred. She leans into my face. “Jesus is listening to you.”

“He is?” Tears spring to my eyes. I stare at my sister, seeing how she looks a little like Laura.

“He told me to tell you,” Emily says. “He knows you here.” She touches my chest where my heart is. “And here.” She touches my forehead. Then she whispers, “He loves you. No hell for you.”

She kisses at my face until Father comes home.

“Laura,” Father says, “walk Miss Emily home, then hurry up to bed yourself.”

They both hug him good night.

“Let’s sit outside,” he says to me.

We go out on the back porch. I can feel the worn wood under my feet. I can hear the chickens settling in for the evening.

“Sit down,” Father says. He puts his arm around my shoulder, pulls me close. I can smell leftover aftershave on him. I close my eyes and breathe deep the smell of my father. I’m leaning against his shoulder, just resting, just loving him, just wishing he could save me when he says, “Do you remember what happened to Brother Alex Delango?”

The smell of sage breezes past. “Yes,” I say.

“Do you remember how he lost everything because he dared to contradict Prophet Childs?”

We sit for a moment, the quiet and cool night air between us.

“They took his children and wives and gave them to two other of the brethren. They made him leave, along with Brother Olsen and Brother Adamson. The three of them were run off, all of them losing their families because they crossed the Prophet. Do you remember?”

I nod. “Yes sir.”

“Do you remember how those fathers were to those new wives and children?”

Again, I nod.

The night sky is full of stars. They look close enough to reach. If I didn’t hurt so much, I bet I could touch one. Father and I don’t say anything else. We sit there, quiet. But I know what he’s telling me.

I have to do what they say.

Or he loses everything.

III

Mother Sarah isn’t feeling
good again. She’s not throwing up, but her face stays slick with sweat. Her skin has grown pale except for two spots of pink in her cheeks. Her lips are dry. She doesn’t even get out of bed.

But I can only think of myself. I hurt all over. Bruises have appeared on both arms, my legs, and across my back. When did that happen? I can’t remember Uncle Hyrum hitting me anywhere but in the face and head. I have a headache that gets worse when the sun shines in my eyes. I draw the curtains and whisper at my sisters, “Let’s keep it down today, okay?”

Laura, Margaret, and Carolina
are
quiet. We work together making breakfast and when I go to step outside and work in the garden, Margaret says, “I’ll do your part today.” I would kiss her, but my lips seep blood.

There’s a knock at the door and Mother Claire comes in. She cringes when she sees my face, then glances away.

“I’m here to pin that dress to you,” she says.

I gather the pieces of material Mother cut out. When did she do this? While she was waiting for me to come back from seeing the Prophet? While she was waiting for Father?

I think of her on her knees on the floor, cutting the material for my wedding dress with her scissors given to her by her mother.

“Let’s go, Miss Kyra,” Mother Claire says.

I move to her and she picks up this and that, pinning at my shoulders, under my arms, down the back.

“Stand on the chair,” she says.

I do and she pins up the hem.

My voice comes out low. “I don’t love him,” I say.

Mother Claire is silent.

“Not as an uncle. Not as a husband.”

“You’ll learn,” Mother Claire says.

I look down at her. From here I can see that some of her hair is turning gray. How can that be?

“You’ll learn to love him.” She says this around straight pins she holds between her lips. “If you put your heart in God’s hands.”

“I want my heart where it is,” I say, tapping my chest.

“You’ll learn,” she says.

“We do what we have to do,” she says.

“I did it,” she says.

I look into Mother Claire’s face. She’s worried for me, I can see it. With the back of her hand, she smooths my face where there is no hurt. I close my eyes at her touch.

THAT NIGHT MOTHER GOES
into labor. I know without anyone saying anything it’s because of the way I look. Because of what happened to me. I can’t even go in the bedroom with her. Every time Mother sees me, she cries. Mother Claire, petting me, sends me out. She and Mother Victoria take turns sitting with my mother while Mother calls out.