I Am Not Esther (6 page)

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Authors: Fleur Beale

BOOK: I Am Not Esther
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Oh, Mum, wha
t have they done to you?
And to me. A Godless child to be endured.

A COUPLE OF WEEKS DRAGGED past. Mum didn’t write, my uncle still wouldn’t give me her address and my life was bounded by prayers, singing, housework and rules. The rules drove me wild. They were all written out and hung on a scroll sort of thing in our bedroom. Aunt Naomi often sent me off to read it. ‘Rule Ten,’ she would snap. ‘Go and read it.’

Then I’d have to recite it to her when I came back. ‘A daughter respects her elders. She is modest. She does not draw attention to herself.’

‘Did that not mean anything to you?’ she would sigh. ‘Braid your hair tidily, Esther. And do not try to look at your reflection in the pot lids.’

If you had a mirror in the house, I wouldn’t have to.

But I kept on trying to find something that would show me my reflection. I had nightmares about looking in a mirror and having no face.

I didn’t get to go to any Circle of Fellowship
meetings. Maggie was sick and I offered to stay with her. That earned me a smile from my aunt. The next one I was back in the discipline room because I totally refused to start embroidering a Bible verse like the twins were doing. Aunt Naomi had caught me running down the street with the little ones. ‘Esther, you will begin sewing your text this evening. Here is the verse I have chosen for you.’

She flipped open her Bible and pointed. ‘Charity doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil.’

‘I am not sewing that,’ I said, through clenched teeth.

I guess it was lucky for me that she decided not to make a fight out of it. Instead, she snapped, ‘Very well. Then you will go to the discipline room tomorrow and commit the chapter to memory.’

It was the worst day I’d spent in there. There was too much time to worry about Mum. I found it hard to breathe in that little room and I longed for windows so I could search for my reflection.

They took me to buy my uniform on a Thursday. Aunt Naomi told me we’d all be going into town for the day. ‘Even Uncle Caleb?’ I asked.

‘All of us,’ she nodded. ‘Now go and wake the children, Esther.’

Abraham and Luke were already awake and playing some game. ‘Time to get dressed,’ I said and went to get the girls up.

‘Today is our town day!’ Rachel sprang up and
reached for her clothes.

‘Yeah, well count me out,’ I said, handing Maggie her blouse.

‘But you have to come,’ Rebecca said. ‘We all go. All of us, always.’

‘Look, Bex-baby — there is no way I’m going to walk into town dressed like this.’ There was no way I’d go anywhere I didn’t have to with her parents either, but I didn’t tell her that.

They all stopped what they were doing and stared at me. ‘You must call me Rebecca,’ she said at last.

Rachel said, ‘You will have to come, Esther. If you refuse then Father will make us all pray for you.’

I grabbed Maggie’s pillow and thumped the wall with it. God, I just love this discipline system. Do something wrong and the whole family gets punished. ‘Too bad,’ I said, swapping the pillow for the hairbrush. ‘You can all suffer for ten minutes on your knees and then you can toddle off to town without me.’ I brushed out Maggie’s hair.

‘You do not understand,’ Rebecca said, her voice urgent. ‘If you refuse to go, we will all have to pray about it until you agree to go. And then you will have to spend tomorrow in the discipline room.’

I said nothing and they all stopped what they were doing and stared at me, Maggie looking like she was having trouble breathing.

Bloody bloody hell. ‘All right! I’ll come. It’ll kill me, but I’ll come.’

All nine of us climbed into the big brown van
Uncle Caleb had arrived home in the night before.

‘How many cars has this family got?’ I asked Daniel in the most accusing sort of voice I could dredge up.

He smiled — Daniel never laughed — and said, ‘My father owns a car rental business. We do not have a car of our own, we just use one of the business cars.’ All my arguments about living modestly while you owned a dozen cars went flat.

‘Aunt Naomi never drives,’ I said.

‘She cannot. The women never do. It is a man’s job.’

This family! This faith! Trust the men to grab the fun jobs.

All the way into town I stared out the window, biting my lips, determined not to cry, especially not in front of them. We got out of the van. If I live a million years nothing, but nothing, will ever be as embarrassing as walking through town with the whole bloody family and all of us wearing clothes from a hundred years ago.

If I met anyone I knew, I’d die. No, I wouldn’t. I’d rush up to them and beg them to take me home with them. People looked at us. Some laughed, some smiled. A few looked pitying. I wanted to shrivel up and turn into a blob on the footpath.

We marched into a shoe shop. They bought black lace-up shoes for all the kids starting at Daniel and going all the way down to Maggie. The only thing that surprised me was they didn’t buy them
for the baby that hadn’t been born yet.

I saw Maggie gazing longingly at a pretty pair of blue sandals that had little red squirrels painted on them. ‘Uncle Caleb,’ I said trying for a low and Godly voice, ‘could Magdalene try on those sandals? They would be most suitable for this weather.’

In his grey voice he answered, ‘Esther, you are still ignorant of the Rule or you would not suggest such infamy. We wear plain clothes. We do not decorate ourselves, for that is frivolous and unseemly and directs our thoughts away from the Lord.’

So we all got plain, black, heavy, hot, lace-up shoes. Apparently the school I was going to had black lace-ups as part of the uniform. ‘But there must be a summer uniform,’ I protested.

‘Sandals do not cover your feet decently,’ Uncle Caleb said. ‘You will wear shoes.’

And if I could kick you with them, I would
.

Next we went to a big department store and bought the boys more horrible grey trousers and horrible grey shirts and horrible knee socks. Grey, of course. Poor little Maggie stared round her at dresses on racks. They were actually really gross — all frills and nylon lace and shiny buttons — but her soul was in her eyes. She was dying from greyness.

The twins didn’t need new uniforms because they were in their second year at intermediate. While my uncle and aunt were busy with the boys, Rachel and Rebecca managed to survey the entire floor of the shop. ‘I have chosen the denim shorts and the bright
pink halter top,’ Rachel hissed.

Rebecca waited until Uncle Caleb had gone with the boys into the fitting room, and Aunt Naomi had taken Maggie to get some plain white socks. ‘I will have the short purple skirt and the white T-shirt with the space cadet on the front,’ she whispered back. They giggled.

‘We do this every year,’ Rachel murmured to me.

‘Then when it gets boring in church, we can imagine what would happen if we actually wore such clothes,’ Rebecca said quickly, watching for the fitting-room door to open.

‘Would you like to?’ I asked.

They looked surprised. Rachel glanced over her shoulder to where Aunt Naomi was starting back towards us. ‘We have never thought about that, have we?’

Rebecca shook her head.

Aunt Naomi was carrying a pale blue knit shirt and a tartan kilt skirt. ‘This is your uniform, Esther. Please try it on.’

The skirt came halfway between ankle and knee.

‘Hmm,’ said Aunt Naomi when I waded out of the dressing room to show her, ‘it is a little short.’

‘Short?’ I squeaked. ‘You’ve got to be joking!’

Uncle Caleb said, ‘The women of our faith always dress with modesty.’

‘Not at school!’ I gasped. ‘Please!’

Aunt Naomi tweaked the waistband. ‘This will have to do. The next size would be much too big.
Perhaps I can let the hem down.’ She examined it. ‘Not enough fabric available there, I am afraid.’

I shut my eyes. I was going to die of embarrassment turning up at school like this. Only geeky dorks wore their skirts down round their shins. Rebecca came with me into the changing room. ‘Do not worry,’ she whispered. ‘You just roll it over at the waist on the way to school. See?’ She flicked her own waistband so neatly she must’ve done it hundreds of times.

‘Thanks!’ I whispered back. I’d not paid much attention to the twins before today. They were always there and always being good. Today had surprised me more than just a bit. Rebecca just grinned, took the uniform and left me to get back into my ‘seemly’ clothes.

Daniel didn’t get any clothes. ‘Your uniform still fit you?’ I asked.

Sadness crossed his face but he said calmly, ‘My father feels I have had sufficient schooling. I am to work with him now.’

Poor Daniel. Why did he stay? I wouldn’t, if I were him. Except that I was staying. Should I just walk out? And if I did, where would I go? How would I find Mum again? The old questions kept revolving in my head.

We went to the lake for lunch. ‘We do it every year,’ Rachel said. ‘We buy school shoes and any uniforms, then we go and have lunch at the lake.’

‘Always on the Thursday before school starts,’ Rebecca added.

We got into the van and trundled off to the lake. It’d be nice to have some cafe food again. I’d get a hamburger and chips.

Dreamer! We got to the lake and it was pretty, with trees and ducks and swans and a statue of a little boy. Aunt Naomi lifted a big picnic basket out of the mini-bus and the twins grabbed rugs and cushions. I took Maggie’s hand and we all marched solemnly to a wooden picnic table.

I waited for Luke and Abraham to race around like they did when I took them to the park, but they stood quietly while their mother put the basket down. ‘May we have the bread for the ducks please?’ Abraham asked.

She gave them a paper bag and they walked down to the edge of the water.

No wonder they liked me taking them to the park.

We ate our lunch and people walked past and stared at us. Luke, Abraham and Maggie kept glancing longingly at the play area. The twins’ eyes followed a dog chasing a frisbee. Daniel kept his eyes on Maggie and Luke, quietly helping them so they wouldn’t get prayed over. My uncle sat at the end of the table and waited while Aunt Naomi made him a sandwich.

Then he said grace, a short one today, thank goodness, but I knew we’d have an extra long one at dinner to make up for it.

We ate in silence. I’d end up with an ulcer at this rate. Isn’t it bad for you to eat while you’re raging mad?

We finished eating and packed up the picnic. Uncle Caleb led the way back to the van. I saw the girl first, I think, although it’s hard to be sure. She was a bit older than me, and she was standing a little above us on the slope, staring intently. Her arms were out from her sides as if she were reaching out towards us. She had long hair, the golden blond colour of the twins’.

I stopped. She looked exactly like an older version of the twins.

Maggie tugged at my hand, then followed my glance. She stood dead still and her face went as white as the swans on the lake. ‘Miriam!’ she screamed and her voice sent shivers right through me. ‘It is Miriam! It is Miriam’s ghost!’ She buried her head in my skirt, terrified.

My own heart was doing a tap dance. But that girl was no ghost. She was flesh and blood and her clothes were real. A skirt, longer than the one I wore, but light and patterned and a rib top. ‘Are you Miriam?’ I whispered.

She nodded, staring at Maggie, desperate to comfort her. But Uncle Caleb said sharply, ‘Hurry along, Esther. Put Magdalene in the vehicle, if you please.’

He looked at the girl. At Miriam. His daughter. His eyes swept right over her as if she didn’t exist. She cringed and bit her bottom lip but she didn’t say anything. Years of training. Years of the discipline room. Daniel hustled the boys into the van.
His face was strained.

Aunt Naomi didn’t even glance at her daughter. She tapped Rebecca on the shoulder. ‘Eyes ahead of you, please miss.’

Rachel dropped the rug she was carrying. She picked it up, managing to look at her sister as she did. Uncle Caleb said, ‘We will pray for you when we reach home, Rachel.’ My head was whirling. I knelt and put my arms tight round Maggie. She nearly strangled me, all the time howling hysterically. The girl — Miriam — took a step towards us. So did Uncle Caleb. She whirled around and ran back up the slope. ‘Tell her I’m not dead. Tell her I love her!’ She was gone by the time Uncle Caleb reached us. I heard her crying, and Uncle bloody Caleb would have heard her too.

‘The vehicle, Esther. At once.’

I got to my feet, treading on my skirt, stumbling along carrying Maggie, thoughts jolting about in my head. If Miriam wasn’t dead, then what had happened? Why had they told Maggie she was? Why wouldn’t they even look at her? Did the little boys think she was dead? When she was looking at them all, her face … It hurt to remember. How could they do that to their own daughter? How could they see her looking like that and not make a move to go to her? To comfort her?

I stepped up into the van, put Maggie on a seat and turned to shut the door. Miriam watched us. Watched me. I was crying, my tears making her
blurry, so I couldn’t see the lost look in her eyes any more. It hurt too much. It reminded me of Mum leaving me. Walking away and there was nothing I could do to stop her.

Nobody said anything all the way home. The only sound was Maggie’s high, keening wail. I held her tight and inside I ached for me and for her and for Miriam.

Uncle Caleb drew up in the driveway. ‘Help your mother unpack, then you will come to the study for prayer.’ He got out and strode off into the house.

I slid to the edge of the seat, trying to get down without falling over my stupid skirt and dropping Maggie. Daniel took my hand to help me. I wouldn’t look at him because he’d see I’d been crying, but also because I hated him. He’d let them do this to his sister. Sisters.

‘I will ask my father if you can put Magdalene to bed instead of taking her to prayers,’ he said.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered. It wasn’t fair to blame him. He had no more power than I did. I don’t know what he said to his father, but Uncle Caleb actually came out of the study and came over to where I was sitting in the family room, holding Maggie.

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