I am Rebecca (2 page)

WE WERE PLEASED
with our new house — it was in a cul-de-sac, partway up a hill. Our worldly neighbours seemed pleasant, and the house two away from ours had a garden full of flowers. I couldn’t help thinking of Miriam, of how she’d have wanted to capture the vibrant colours in a painting.

It was against the Rule to think of her, or of Daniel.

WE HAD BEEN IN
our new house three days when our front door opened and a voice called, ‘Praise the Lord.’

It was Tirzah, who’d written to welcome us. Another girl was with her. ‘This is Abigail.’

Mother came to greet them, drying her hands on her apron. ‘Welcome to our home, Abigail and Tirzah. I am Sister Naomi.’

‘Our mothers send their greetings,’ Abigail said.

Tirzah asked, ‘Sister Naomi, may we show Rachel and Rebecca the park? We could take the younger children too.’

Mother smiled and gave us permission.

The girls led us down the hill and along the road to a park. Abraham and Luke took off but Magdalene stayed close to us.

Tirzah said, ‘Everyone’s so looking forward to meeting you all. Did you have a smooth crossing on the ferry? Elder Stephen prayed for the weather to be calm.’ She giggled. ‘You’d better tell him it was dead flat if he asks you.’

‘Who is Elder Stephen?’ Rachel asked.

The girls gaped at us. ‘He’s our leader,’ Abigail said.

‘He’ll be your leader too, now,’ Tirzah said.

‘But — Elder Ezra is our leader.’ I couldn’t
understand it. Surely he wouldn’t give up the leadership so easily?

Now our new friends looked upset. ‘Didn’t you know? Elder Ezra isn’t strong. It’s his heart — Elder Stephen told us he’s worn it out in the service of his people. The Lord told Elder Stephen that Elder Ezra must save his strength because the people need his wisdom.’

‘No, we did not know that,’ Rachel said.

‘We’re sorry to break the news to you like that,’ Abigail said, then she grinned at us. ‘You don’t need to speak seemly with us. We always shorten our words except when there are adults around.’ She leaned towards us to whisper, ‘It’s what all us kids here do.’

We looked at each other, then at her. ‘We will pray about it. We do not want to be different, but we do not want to grieve our parents.’

The girls shuddered. ‘Of course not! We’re always very careful to speak seemly around any adult.’

IF RACHEL AND I HAD KNOWN
what was in store for us at our first service of worship at the Nelson temple, we would have been ill with nerves. We certainly wouldn’t have looked forward to it as much as we had.

It began normally enough. We were sent straight to the kitchen, along with five other girls. The two older ones, Talitha and Kezia, were from Wanganui, while Abigail, Tirzah and another girl were from Nelson.

‘This is Drusilla,’ Tirzah said, introducing us to the girl we hadn’t met. ‘Remember I told you? Her father is in partnership with yours and mine.’

Being new didn’t stop Kezia from being her usual bossy self. We were used to her, but we often saw the
others tighten their lips to shut off a retort as she ordered them around.

When everything was ready for morning tea, we took off our aprons to go into the big hall to hear Elder Stephen preach.

I’d expected him to be like Elder Ezra — loud, commanding and fierce — but the only thing they had in common was that they were both old and dignified. Elder Stephen was tall and stooped, his hair grey and his body lean. When he looked out at us, his eyes seemed to see right into my soul. His voice surprised me — almost gentle but very clear. It, too, seemed to fly straight into my soul. I shivered and made up my mind never to give him cause to notice me.

He preached about obedience. ‘Obey the Rule, my children, because I make you this solemn promise: obedience will lead you to salvation. Remember always that I, your leader, bear the responsibility of passing on to you the will of the Lord. Trust in me as you trust in Him.’

I thought he was a most holy man and well fit to carry the weight of our souls in his hands.

The shock came after the fifteen Nelson families had welcomed us. Elder Stephen walked back to the lectern to make the usual community announcements — the names of the doctor and dentist we would go to, reports from the businesses, instructions to young men about what careers they would follow. He finished by saying, ‘I am pleased to announce a new venture. The organic farm is now producing
sufficient eggs and chickens to sell at a stall at the Saturday market.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

Our leader went on, ‘Your Elders have prayed about this and it has come to us that here is an opportunity to reach out to the world. Those working the stall have been carefully chosen. They will be the public face of our community. The world will look upon them and see the light of the Lord in their souls. In this way, we hope to encourage others to walk the path to salvation.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

Elder Stephen’s eyes swept over his people. ‘With the guidance of the Lord, I have chosen for this sacred task Rebecca and Rachel Pilgrim, the twin daughters of Brother Caleb. Brother Gideon, you will accompany the girls, look after them and provide any help or counsel they may need.’

The world around me went white, then dark. Rachel slumped against my shoulder. Mother’s hand shook my arm. ‘Breathe, daughters,’ she whispered. ‘In. Out. Do not make a scene.’

Somehow, we managed to stay upright in our seats, but such a sacred task was too heavy a burden for us. We’d had so little worldly experience.

IT WOULD BE USELESS
to say we were only thirteen and were too young to work in a worldly market. But each night, after our little sisters were asleep, Rachel and I talked.

‘We should tell Father we can’t do it,’ she said.

‘D’you want to be prayed over?’ That’s what would happen — we’d be on our knees on the wooden floor for ten minutes or half an hour depending on how serious Father thought our transgression was. The Lord had told Elder Stephen we were the best ones to do this sacred duty. To disobey him would be to disobey the Lord.

Our state of mind wasn’t helped by our new
school being ready for us to start on Wednesday.

Father gave us our instructions at breakfast. ‘My children, you are to walk into town. Be there by 8.30. The community bus will take you to school. You will study all morning and return home at midday and help your mother. There will be no school in the afternoons.’

Abraham gave a small cheer. Rachel and I found it hard to be excited about anything with the threat of Saturday speeding closer. We tied on our head scarves, helped the children get ready, and set off to the bus stop. I focused my thoughts on working to accept the Lord’s plan for me and my sister.

At lunchtime, Mother asked, ‘How did school go? Did you enjoy your day? Are the lessons from America truly godly?’

Luckily for us, Abraham spoke first. ‘The lessons are stink. The school is stink. It is old and cold. I want a proper teacher and proper lessons.’

Mother looked upset, so I said, ‘It will take us a little while to adjust. It is very different from our old school.’

But, in truth, neither Rachel nor I had been able to concentrate on a single lesson. Sister Leah, our supervisor, had been short with us. Our fear of the worldly market consumed us.

SATURDAY ARRIVED
. Gideon was to pick us up at the bottom of the hill.

‘We could run away,’ Rachel said, only half joking.

I gripped her hand. ‘The first time will be the worst. We’ll get used to it.’
Please Lord, let it be so
.

Gideon laughed when he saw us. ‘Cheer up, girls! You will be fine. Climb on in. I will help you. Do not worry.’

We were too nervous to answer him.

At the market, he seemed to know where to go to set up our stall, and what to do when we got there. All around us, people were busy organising their own spaces. We saw vegetables, cakes, cheese, jams and honey and pickles for sale. Directly opposite us was a woman arranging jars of sweets on shelves.

We helped Gideon set up our own stall. He had a tray with the money in it. ‘This is to get you started. You know how to give change?’

It was a bit late to learn if we didn’t. We nodded.

‘Good. Here comes your first customer.’

It was a man. Rachel handed him a dozen eggs while I took his money and gave him the change. Neither of us looked at him.

A woman came next. ‘Organic eggs! Brilliant! A dozen, please.’

I tried to look at her as I gave her the eggs, but one glance was enough. She was so
worldly
. It didn’t please the Lord for women to wear men’s clothing, and she had on trousers and a sort of plaid shirt. At least her face was bare of make-up.

Beside me, Rachel whimpered. This was ghastly. I almost hoped Elder Stephen would come along
just to see how disastrous his great idea was. But it wasn’t his idea — it was the Lord’s will. We would have to continue, we would have to endure.

All morning, we served people with tattoos, men with long hair, women in revealing clothing. We heard swearing. We heard people blaspheming as if there was nothing wrong with taking the name of the Lord in vain. We kept our eyes lowered and we didn’t speak to the customers.

During a lull, Gideon said, ‘Girls, the Lord will not be displeased if you smile at the people. Remember what your sacred task is. Their souls are crying out to be embraced by the love of the Lord.’

‘Thank you,’ we whispered.

It was easier to look on their worldliness with his words in our minds. We began to see kindness in some of our customers’ smiles as they thanked us. We still didn’t speak, but we began to believe that maybe we could do this again next week, and the week after that, until the Lord told Elder Stephen we’d done enough.

But that night we were exhausted from the strain of dealing with worldly people. Mother looked at our faces and said, ‘Go and rest, my daughters. Abraham, Luke and Magdalene can do your chores today.’

We felt mean, but were grateful to obey.

THE
NEXT SATURDAY
we weren’t so nervous, and we remembered to smile. But we were still surprised when the woman from the sweet stall came bustling over to talk to us.

‘Hello dearies, it’s a pleasure to see you there, it truly is. Such good girls, and the young man so pleasantly spoken too. We need more like him. My name’s Sarah — Sarah Lipscombe.’ Her eyes were kind. ‘I can see this is hard for you, but you’ll do better if you can chat to your customers. Nothing serious. Just say good morning and isn’t the weather warm today. That sort of thing. They’ll love you for it, I promise you.’

When she’d returned to her stall, we checked with Gideon. ‘What do you think? Will it grieve the Lord if we speak with the customers?’

He thought about it while we served three people, then said, ‘The woman has worked here for some time, I think. She must know what customers expect. It has come to me that the Lord will want you to do all you can to show the godliness of the Children of the Faith. I believe it is right to do as she advises. I know you will always be respectful.’

We were glad to have his guidance, for it was a big step for us to talk to worldly people.

A man struggling with two full bags of vegetables plonked them down and grinned at us. ‘A dozen eggs please, ladies.’

I couldn’t think of anything to say — Rachel was silent too — but we smiled as we gave him the
eggs and the change, and I found myself whispering, ‘Thank you.’

The next two customers didn’t try to pass the time of day with idle chat, but the woman who came after them said, ‘How are you today, girls?’

‘We are pleased with the sunshine,’ I said.

Rachel’s voice was very soft as she asked, ‘Is your day going well?’

The woman beamed at us. ‘All the better for seeing you two. You’re a breath of fresh air, the pair of you.’

When she had gone, Gideon leaned out the truck window. ‘Excellent, girls. Well done. Do not worry — you were very respectful.’

When it was time to pack up, we had passed the time of day with four more customers. Again, when we got home we were exhausted. But as the weeks went by we became used to the market, and to chatting to our customers. By the time several months had passed, we found we even looked forward to Saturdays.

‘The stall holders are all so kind,’ Rachel said to me one evening. ‘I hadn’t thought worldly people would be like that. I do hope …’

‘… that they find the path to salvation,’ I said.

‘Yes. But, Rebecca — I don’t feel holy enough. Not to lead somebody to salvation, I mean.’

Neither did I.

I wondered if Elder Stephen would be angry if he knew that the market days had become the
highlight of our week. Would the Lord tell him to choose two other girls? I ran the Rule through my mind, but there was nothing saying you couldn’t enjoy doing the work of the Lord. I prayed we’d be allowed to continue.

How very strange life could be.