Outside (2 page)

Across the room, Naomi snickers before raising her hand. “I know the verse, Sister Berman.”

Sister Berman draws herself up to her full height, her nostrils flaring with annoyance. As Elder Berman’s wife, it’s her duty to set an example for all of the women in Shiloh of what it means to be a good woman of the Lord. She’s also tasked with making sure us young women are well-equipped for their role as wives and mothers under the Lord’s guidelines. She takes my struggles with paying attention and knowing my place personally. If I fail, she has failed.

Her white hair practically glows in the sunlight pouring through our classroom window. Over her shoulder I spot the scripture written on the chalkboard. 1 Timothy 2:11-12. I know these two verses better than I know my own name.

“Let the woman learn in silence with all subjection,” I begin. “But I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority over the man, but to be silent.”

Sister Berman sighs. “But to be
in
silence,” she snaps, shaking her head. “Really, Alaina. How can you expect to ever become a woman of the Lord and be paired if you can’t get even the simplest scriptures right.”

I lower my head. “I’m sorry.”

“No one will want to pair with a sinner anyway,” Naomi mutters.

Several girls giggle and I wait for Sister Berman to rebuke them for speaking out of turn. She doesn’t.

“You will write these verses one thousand times as punishment,” Sister Berman says. “And pray I don’t tell your mother.”

I swallow hard and nod.

We’re dismissed to go and do women’s work. I’m supposed to assist with laundry today in the utility building, a structure made of whitewashed cinderblocks that houses the washers, dryers, and bathrooms for Shiloh. My heart isn’t in it. It never is. While all the other girls and women smile as they sort through piles of sweaty, smelly, dirt-crusted socks and pants, I look for reasons to leave.

I’m on hanging duty. When the weather is nice, we hang clothes to dry instead of using the electric dryers. It’s my job to carry heavy baskets of wet clothes outside and hang them on the lines that are strung up behind the utility building.

On my way out, with a load of wet laundry, I pass the utility sink where Sister Crenshaw, head of laundry services, set the bucket of washing powder. Making sure no one is looking, I bump the bucket, letting it spill into the sink, and continue on my way outside.

When I come back in to get another load of laundry, Sister Crenshaw is standing beside the sink, holding the empty bucket, frowning. “We’re out of soap,” she says, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“I’ll go to the supply shed and get more,” I offer.

She nods absently, glancing around like she can’t figure out what happened.

I feel bad. I really do. But laundry duty is insufferable. I’d much rather assist with cooking, or do what the boys get to do in the afternoons; learn math and help care for the gardens and animals.

The supply shed is near the barn where the boys have their math lessons. I take a detour, lingering outside the door to listen in. I only have a few minutes before someone comes looking for me, so I make the most of it, mentally cramming as much information as I can into my brain. They’re learning long division. I already know simple division. This is more complicated, but it make sense.

“Alaina?”

I jump at the sound of my name and turn to find Elder Hanson behind me.

“I was on my way to the shed,” I say quickly.

He nods, eyeing me. “Better get going then,” he says.

I nod once and hurry away with my heart thundering in my chest.

CHAPTER TWO

ALAINA

As soon as my mother’s light goes out, I pull my book from its hiding place under my mattress. I’ve probably read it a hundred times in the past few weeks. Well, I’ve read parts of it a hundred times. Particularly the part where Avryn and Hayze make love.

I wonder if I’ll ever make love. Or have the kinds of feelings that Avryn has for Hayze. They are just so in love, it’s devastating when Hayze is thrown in prison at the end.

There are more books in the series, but I’ll have to wait until I’m older and allowed to leave on mission trips to try to find them.

“Alaina?”

My mother’s voice from my doorway startles me. I move quickly to toss the book into the space between my bed and the wall but she’s on me in a second, yanking it from my hands.

Her eyes widen when she sees Avryn and her unicorn, Windshadow, on the cover. Then her face goes red with rage. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she raises her chin and quotes Hosea.

“They have deeply corrupted themselves: therefore He will remember their iniquity, He will punish their sins.”

Before I can apologize or beg for mercy, she strikes me hard just below my right eye, close-fisted. I put my hand to my face and look up at her, stunned into silence.

She’s delivered plenty of spankings and pinches to the sensitive backside of my arms, but she’s never struck me like this. Then again, I’ve never brought evil into our home before now.

She raises her fist again and I cower as she delivers another blow, this one catching me in the shoulder.

“Up! Stand up!” she screams.

Shaking, tears pooling and sliding down my face, I do as I’m told.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She hits me again, this time open-palmed across the face. The power behind it throws me off balance, but I stay on my feet. Yanking me forward by my arm, she marches me out of my room.

As soon as I see we’re headed for the front door, I stop, digging my heels in. “I can’t go out in my nightgown!” I cry. “It’s inappropriate!”

Jerking hard, she pulls me toward the door. “You should have thought of that before you brought this satanic book into my house.” Wrenching the door open, she shoves me out onto the front porch. “You weren’t so concerned with being appropriate then, were you?”

Mother pulls me across the thoroughfare that separates twenty-six houses from the Temple, Elder’s chambers, and what we call “Shiloh Hall.” Shiloh Hall is where we go to school, meals are served, and everyone works, doing various chores to keep things running. Behind the Hall are the stables and garages.

“Please,” I beg, trying to pull free of her grip. The dampness in the grass soaks through my socks as we transition from walking on gravel to walking through the lawn in front of the Chambers. “Please don’t tell! Please don’t turn me in!”

I don’t know what I’ll do if they shun me. If I’m made to cut my hair, take a flogging, and walk out the front gates while they throw rocks, I will die.

“Stop making a scene,” Mother hisses, glancing behind us.

I turn to find that nearly every house has their porch light on and nearly all of Shiloh is on their porch, watching me being dragged to the Chambers in my nightgown and wet socks.

Mother tugs once more and this time I go with her without resisting. The faster I get to the Chambers, the faster I won’t be seen in my nightgown.

Climbing the whitewashed steps, Mother knocks on the heavy wooden door.

The wait lasts a lifetime.

Finally, someone comes, pulling open the door, scowling at us. It’s Elder Hanson and for the briefest moment, I’m relieved it’s him. He knows me. We were friends once, when he was turning sixteen and I was just eleven. We sat across from each other during my first year in Missionary School and his last. He has to know that this was a lapse in judgment.

“She’s contaminated our community with this,” Mother says, holding the book out to him.

He frowns at the book before his kind brown eyes find mine. They dart to the spot on my face where Mother struck me. No doubt it’s bright red, even in the dim light coming from inside the Chambers.

“You’ve betrayed us,” he says sadly.

Swallowing hard, I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to. I just-”

“Do not speak out of turn.” He turns to Mother, glancing past her toward the other members gathered on their porches. “Bring her inside,” he says, stepping out of the way.

They make me sit on a hard wooden chair in the middle of the Hearing Room. All seven Elders are seated behind the long table at the far end under a banner that has Hebrews 4:13 written on it: But all things are naked and opened unto the eyes of him with whom we have to do.

They all wear black robes to signify their role as judge and jury. Elder Berman sits in the center, being the founder of Shiloh and most senior Elder. His white hair is uncombed and his robe is wrinkled.

“Alaina Roberts,” he says, his voice echoing off the high ceiling and freezing cold marble floor.

I shiver and hug myself, curling my toes under the chair so my feet aren’t resting directly on the floor.

“You have been charged with attempt to corrupt the community and possession of satanic materials. How do you plead?” Elder Berman glares at me through his thick wire framed glasses.

I open my mouth, unsure of how to respond. My eyes shift to Elder Hanson, who stares back and shakes his head once, ever so slightly.

“Guilty,” I say, choking back a sob.

“Produce the evidence,” Elder Berman says.

Elder Hanson stands and walks the book over to him. “A children’s fantasy story, Elder. It bears the stamp from the library we visited on Observation Day last month.”

Taking the book, Elder Berman’s gray, bushy eyebrows arch. “Add thievery to her list,” he says to Elder White, on his left.

“To be fair,” Elder Hanson says, glancing at me, “She may not have known she was stealing. I told them that the library gives away books freely. I did not explain that a membership card was required.”

“Irrelevant,” Elder Berman grumbles. He turns the book over in his hands and then looks up at Elder Hanson. “But, the fact that this was stolen on your watch is gravely disappointing. You’re as much to blame for this poison being in Shiloh as she is.” He slams the book down on the table, making a sharp smacking sound echo through the room, and gets to his feet. “We’ll deal with you later.”

Elder Hanson swallows hard and retakes his seat at the far right end of the table.

Turning back to me, Elder Berman begins the interrogation. “Who knew about this book?”

I shake my head. “No one. Not even Elder Hanson. I alone bear these crimes.”

“That is for us to decide!” he booms. “Not you!”

Lowering my head, I stare at the floor, wondering where my mother is now. I’ve brought so much shame on her.

“Did you read this book?”

I nod without looking up.

“How many times?”

My heart drops into my toes and I look up. “I lost count,” I whisper.

His eyes widen and on either side of him, the Elders whisper to each other. Elder Hanson shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

“More than three?” Elder Berman presses.

Nodding, I stare at the banner above his head.

“More than ten?”

I nod again and the whispers erupt into sounds of disgust and outrage.

Elder Berman orders everyone to be silent and draws himself to full height. “You leave me no choice. You will be flogged and made to fast for three days as penance. Your sentence will be served immediately and you will not return to your home until it is complete.”

“Flogged?” I whisper, my face crumpling. The fasting I can handle, but being whipped?

Elder Berman nods once and turns to Elder Hanson. “As punishment for not being more diligent in your duties during an observation mission, you will deliver the punishment. Make yourself ready.”

Elder Hanson jumps to his feet. “I can’t whip her! She’s a child!”

“You can and will, unless you’d prefer to be stripped of your title and shunned.”

My eyes widen and dart to Elder Hanson. He stares back at me. Remorse flickers across his face, but it’s quickly replaced with hardened determination.

“I’m ready,” he says.

Though it’s the middle of the night, I stand outside on the lawn of the Chambers, in front of everyone in Shiloh. Under the ultra-bright security light mounted on the building, Elder Berman reads aloud my crimes and his judgment.

“If any man has reason to believe these crimes are falsely accused, speak now.” His eyes move from face to face. After a moment, he turns to Elder Hanson. “Proceed.”

Elder Stedman and Elder White lead me up the steps of the Chambers and tell me to place my hands on the door, palms flat, with my back to the rest of the community.

Shivering uncontrollably, I do as I’m told.

“If your hands leave the door, even for a moment, he’ll double your lashes, so mind yourself,” Elder White whispers.

I nod, sucking my bottom lip into my mouth as hot tears begin to pour down my face.

They move away and for a moment, nothing happens.

Without warning, a loud crack splits the air, followed by the most horrendous pain I’ve ever felt. I scream, my knees buckling, threatening to give out completely.