I Am Not Esther (4 page)

I knew so little. She’d left home on her sixteenth birthday. She said she couldn’t stand it any longer. God, could I ever believe that. And she said her father belted them. At least Uncle Caleb didn’t seem to be into physical violence.

I went over what else I knew of Mum’s life, but there wasn’t much. I was born when she was
twenty-six
. My father died of leukemia when I was four, but
she said the marriage wouldn’t have lasted because he couldn’t stand her dizziness.

How was I going to survive living with the Pilgrim family for two whole years? I wanted to cry and hide my head in my horrible scarf.

‘You will hurt your fingers, Esther,’ Maggie whispered, timidly putting a hand over mine where I’d twisted the scarf tight.

I glanced at her worried face and took a deep breath. Said something flippant so that she smiled. The boys jumped out of the water and raced over to a climbing frame. Maggie and I sat on, our feet cool in the water. ‘I’m going to find out why she left,’ I murmured. ‘And I’m going to get her back.’

Maggie stared at me. ‘It’s okay, kiddo,’ I said. ‘I haven’t lost my marbles. Come on, I’ll give you a swing.’

I suddenly felt better. I wouldn’t just shrug my shoulders and get on with it the way we always did with problems. I would fight. I shoved hard at the swing; they weren’t going to change me.

We went home and the boys were wet to their skins. Aunt Naomi frowned and lectured me. The boys were sent to change and I had to help cook dinner. I had to make a plum pudding with a sponge top and my aunt didn’t have an electric beater. Rebecca was doing the ironing and Rachel was kneading bread dough. There was an embroidered text on the wall that said, ‘the devil finds work for idle hands’. When Uncle Caleb and Daniel came
home, my uncle sat at the kitchen table and asked, ‘Wife, have the children upheld the Rule, this day?’

Maggie was sitting at the table shelling peas and she whimpered. I grinned at her but my heart was beating faster and that made me mad. I would be me, not some dorky drip called Esther. Aunt Naomi told him how I’d brought the boys home soaking wet.

He didn’t look at me, just told us all to go to his study. I hoped the dinner would burn. We knelt and I suppose they all shut their eyes, but I didn’t, although I bowed my head so Uncle Caleb couldn’t see my eyes were open.

I tried not to listen, but couldn’t help it. He went on about how my lack of discipline was a sad lapse and how with the help of the Lord I would learn to uphold the Rule so as not to grieve the Lord. I learned during that session that this stupid rule they kept on about meant you couldn’t do anything a normal kid would do.

‘Help our beloved daughter Esther to guard her tongue so that her speech may be seemly. Help her to speak without shortening her words. Help her to be Godly.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

‘Help our beloved daughter Esther to discipline her thoughts and deeds. Help her to set an example of Godliness and seemliness that the younger children may learn by her example.’

‘Praise the Lord.’

My knees were burning, I clenched my jaw shut and my fingernails dug into the palms of my hands.

The Lord was going to be busy. He had to help me be modest, unassuming, dutiful, obedient, chaste. He had to help me keep my thoughts on Him. I wasn’t to be selfish and consider my own wishes and desires.

‘That is all, family. Go about your duties.’

‘Holy cow,’ I breathed.

Uncle Caleb heard. Down we went for another ten everlasting minutes. My state of mind was not exactly calm, holy or reverent. But I kept my mouth shut. Just as well he couldn’t read my mind.

The dinner didn’t burn. I reckon Aunt Naomi had it planned so she could leave it while we prayed.

Mum, why did you abandon me? Why did you turn me into a refugee?

After dinner and after prayers that night I asked Aunt Naomi, ‘Please, Aunt, could I look at my mother’s luggage?’ She’d only taken two bags to Africa — the rest of them had to be here somewhere. There probably wouldn’t be any clues in her stuff, but it was somewhere to start looking.

‘It is nothing to do with me,’ said Aunt Naomi, so I took a deep breath and asked my uncle.

‘It is nothing to do with you,’ he said and he was just as closed off and determined as Mum had been when she wouldn’t tell me anything. If I argued with him, he’d probably haul everyone into his study for another prayer session.

Daniel might tell me something. I managed to ask him when I went out to pick some sweet corn for tea the next afternoon. He was weeding along a row of carrots. ‘Daniel, do you know what happened to Mum’s gear?’

He sat back on his heels and stared at me. ‘My father does not want you to have it.’

‘It isn’t his. And I don’t want to have it. I just want to look through it.’

He stared at me some more. I’d dumped a weighty problem on him. ‘It is in the garage,’ he said at last. ‘In the cupboard beside the workbench.’

I could’ve hugged him. ‘Thanks, Daniel!’

The next problem was, when could I look through it? Aunt Naomi kept me busy all day. She was horrified that I couldn’t cook, or clean a stove, or iron the ghastly blouses properly. Maggie was my constant companion. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d have gone bananas, but she seemed to need me. She grew anxious if I disappeared somewhere and she didn’t know. Miriam. She thought I was going to die like Miriam.

After worrying the problem around in my head for hours, I came to the conclusion that the only time to look at Mum’s stuff was the middle of the night. I pinched the torch from the laundry while I was folding the daily washing. ‘Mum, you’d be stunned if you could see me now,’ I muttered, folding my spare skirt and blouse, both exactly the same colours as the lot I was wearing.

That evening I put the littlies to bed. Abraham and Luke bounced and yelled and had a pillow fight. Uncle Caleb stormed in and killed it dead. ‘You will teach them discipline,’ he said coldly.

‘Yes, Uncle Caleb.’ An idea hit me. ‘Uncle Caleb … could I read to them? Where are the books?’

‘You may read the Bible,’ he said.

‘Yes, all right … but other stories, too. Where are they?’ I looked round the room, but the only books were a Bible by each bed.

‘We do not believe in stories and novels,’ he said. ‘The word of the Lord is sufficient.’

So what did they do in their spare time with no television, no radio and no books? Play cards? Strip poker, maybe? I think not.

I took Maggie into our room and tucked her into bed. ‘Tell me a story,’ she whispered as I hugged her.

‘Like Miriam did?’ I asked, and felt her nod. ‘I’ll tell you about my mother, and you tell me about Miriam.’ She nodded again, so I told her about Mum and me dyeing our hair for Christmas and I managed not to cry. ‘Your turn,’ I said.

She reached up and touched my hair. ‘She had pretty hair. Yellow and straight. Not like yours.’ And that was it, she just turned over then and snuggled down. I went back to tuck the boys in. ‘Tell us a story,’ Abraham whispered, his eyes sparkling.

‘Come down here, then,’ I said and moved over so there was room for him beside me on Luke’s bunk. I told them the story of The Three Billy
Goats Gruff and we all went
trip-trap, trip-trap, who’s going over MY bridge?
together in a whisper muffled by the blankets. They loved it.

I looked in on Maggie before I went back to the family room. She was sleeping and there were no tear tracks down her cheeks.

‘Is she crying?’ Aunt Naomi asked.

I shook my head and she relaxed. ‘Good. You are good with her.’ It was the nearest to approval that I’d got since I’d arrived in this house a whole huge long week ago. To reward me, she gave me a basket of mending. I’m sure knowing how to sew buttons on is an essential life skill I will one day be very glad I have. Not.

I went to bed, planning to stay awake and creep out when everyone was asleep, but I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until Aunt Naomi called me at seven.

It was Sunday and we went to church at ten o’clock. I kept my head down. I didn’t want to be part of this crowd of people in their stupid clothes and their stupider ideas. But I couldn’t shut my ears. They had a leader called Ezra Faithful and he did a great line in hellfire and damnation. He didn’t seem to like women much and I wanted to hit him.

After church they all stayed in the hall while girls spread food out in another room. I went outside and sat on the steps.

Daniel followed me. ‘My father says you must come inside and eat the fellowship meal.’

I shook my head. ‘Tell him to get stuffed. I want my mother.’

‘He will pray for you when we get home if you do not come,’ Daniel said. He held out his hand. ‘Come, Kirby. Sometimes it is easier to do what they say.’

I was stunned. He had called me Kirby and he’d said … I’d think about that later. I got up and went with him.

That evening, while I was clearing the table after dinner, I said, ‘Aunt Naomi, has my mother written to you?’ Every day I hoped for a letter but they didn’t even have a letter box.

‘You must ask your uncle, Esther.’

She
had
written, and they hadn’t told me? ‘May I go now?’ I was learning the rules of this place.

She nodded. ‘He is in his study.’

I knocked on the door, waited until he said to come in. ‘Yes, Esther?’

‘Has my mother written?’

‘It is too soon to hear from her, Esther.’

‘May I write to her, then? Can I have her address? Please! I miss her so much!’ I need to tell her how I’m going mad and that she has to come home.

‘She is doing the Lord’s work, Esther. You should rejoice.’ He bent to his Bible again. ‘You may write. I will address it for you, there is no need for you to have her address. I will post it for you.’

Yeah, after you’ve read it first, you ugly, stinking old rat of a pig’s bum!
I went back to the family room too
angry and upset to watch where I was going and slammed straight into the open door. The socks I darned had to be done again, I pulled the stitches so tight. I got told off for being wasteful of time, effort and wool. The twins sat and sewed neat stitches into pictures for their bedroom wall. Not pictures, verses from the Bible. I stared at Rebecca’s.

If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea
,

E
and she was halfway through what could possibly turn out to be a V.

I hoped they’d jab themselves and fall asleep for a hundred years. Tonight I would stay awake, tonight I would search through Mum’s stuff. There had to be a clue there somewhere.

The torch was a lump under my pillow when I went to bed. The house fell quiet around me. I waited for ages and then I got up very carefully, slipped onto the floor and went to the window.

It was an old house, and the windows slid up. There was a clanging noise in the wall from the weights or something. I sat on the sill, one leg dangling and held my breath, listening. Nothing moved and there was no sound except for my thudding heart.

There was a flower garden under the window. I pushed myself out from the sill and jumped so I landed clear of it. The grass was cool and crisp under my feet. I tip-toed to the garage, fumbling for the key under a loose brick in the path.

I turned it in the lock. Turned the door handle.
No sound except my raspy breathing. Uncle Caleb would kill me. His God would strike me dead.

I found the cupboard and the bags were there, stacked neatly on a wide shelf. I took down the first one. It was one of those ones with handles and zips. I undid it carefully and lifted the stuff out. Mum’s winter clothes. Her thick jerseys, skirts, a scarf. I lifted up the sweatshirt she’d always worn round home and held it against my face. It brought her back so sharply that it hurt. I hugged it.
Mum, come back. How could you leave me?

‘You wicked, disobedient girl!’

I jumped a thousand metres. Uncle Caleb on the warpath. I stayed where I was, crouched on the floor holding my mother’s sweatshirt in my arms. I said nothing. There was no point and I fiercely didn’t want him to know I was crying.

‘How did you know where to look?’ he thundered.

I sniffed, wiped my face on the sweatshirt, and looked all the way up to his grey face.
Daniel told me
. Daniel didn’t deserve to be dropped in it. ‘It seemed the obvious place,’ I muttered.

He loomed above me. ‘I told you these things do not concern you.’

Fury raged in me, chasing away the tears and I was bloody glad of it. I jumped up and glared at him. ‘Uncle Caleb! I have to try to find out why she left! I need to know why she went away and left me.’ I held the sweatshirt in my hands, in front of me like a shield.

‘You are a very self-centred child, Esther.’ No expression in his voice or face. ‘Your mother experienced salvation. She has gone to do the Lord’s work. You should rejoice. Put those things away, then go to your bed.’ He turned and walked out.

That was it? No dragging everyone out of bed and praying over me? I’d got off? Somehow I doubted it.

Suddenly I felt very tired. I struggled to lift the bag back onto the shelf. But I kept the sweatshirt.

In the morning, Aunt Naomi woke me up at six o’clock. ‘Get dressed,’ she whispered. ‘You are to study the Bible today.’

‘What?’ I hoped I was still asleep and dreaming.

‘You are to study the Bible. In the discipline room.’ She frowned. ‘Our own children have not had to use the room since …’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Hurry.’

What had she been going to say?

I slid down from the bunk and climbed into my neatly folded clothes. I took my own knickers from under my pillow. I rinsed them out every night and put them there. When they wore out, I wouldn’t wear any.

Maggie was fast asleep. When she woke up, I’d be gone.

Knowing this household, nobody would tell her I wasn’t dead.

I sat down beside her and shook her awake. ‘Maggie, listen. I got into trouble last night and I have to spend the day in the discipline room.’ Her eyes got huge in her pinched little face. I shook her gently.
‘It’s okay! I’m not going to die. I’ll still be here in the house, but I think I have to stay there all day.’