Free Being Magdalene by Fleur Beale Page A

sensible.’
    I didn’t tell her my father thought differently. I slept until she woke me at home time.

    On Wednesday morning, Abraham was in the kitchen as usual. He hadn’t gone away in the night. He was still our brother.
    He drove us to school and said, ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet, so don’t ask. Okay?’
    I was strong enough to go to my own classroom and face Sister Leah, but instead I chose to go with Zillah so that I could lie on the mattresses and think. There was so much to try to understand. Father, the Rule, my life, Zillah, Abraham. Luke, who had discovered a Lord who was kind. Brother Jedidiah, who had taken his family away from the Faith and the Lord. Whatwas Neriah doing now? Was she worried about doom and damnation? Why were people still uneasy?
    At break, I went to the tree with my friends. I’d forgotten they didn’t know how I’d hurt myself. Jemimah gestured at my bandaged hands. ‘Don’t worry. Curiosity won’t kill us. We’re just glad to see you’re well again.’
    Carmel snorted. ‘Well-ish! You don’t look a bundle of energy, and that’s the truth, Magdalene Pilgrim.’
    I would tell them what I could. ‘This is what happened. It’s weird, though, and I don’t understand, so it’s no use asking.’
    Carmel said, ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to tell us anything.’
    I shrugged. ‘Might as well. Everyone will be gossiping about the fainting and about these.’ I held up my bandaged hands.
    ‘They wouldn’t be talking about you if we were allowed to talk about … her,’ Jemimah said.
    ‘Do you know anything?’ I asked. ‘Why did they leave?’
    She began picking at the bark on the tree trunk. ‘We don’t know a thing. Mother keeps crying when she thinks we’re not looking. Father goes around looking grim.’ She gave up on the bark. ‘I miss her and I’m going to pray for her. So there.’
    ‘Me too,’ I said. ‘She asked us to.’
    ‘All right,’ Carmel said. ‘I’ll pray, but you know what? Praying doesn’t make a scrap of difference.’ She looked at us, ready to fight, daring us to disagree.
    ‘Nothing makes any difference,’ I said. ‘We’re stuckwith the stupid Rule.’
    ‘I wish Father would take us out of the Faith too,’ Jemimah said. ‘But he won’t and I’ve lost my cousin for ever.’ She checked to make sure nobody was near enough to hear. None of us had ever spoken so sinfully, or been so unseemly .
    Carmel said, ‘Shhh. Tell us about your hands. Quickly — break’s nearly over.’
    I told them everything. When I got to the part about Abraham probably leaving the Faith, Carmel gasped and pressed her hands to her heart. I told them what the doctor said, and how Father didn’t take any notice of his instructions.
    They were quiet for a while, then Carmel said, ‘But why did you do it? There’s got to be a reason. You don’t just go off your head for no reason!’
    Jemimah winced at her harsh words but didn’t growl at her.
    I shouldn’t tell them. It was a sin to speak of my lost brother and sisters. But Doctor Alex didn’t believe it was a sin. It seemed to me he believed Father was sinful not to speak of them.
    I would speak of them. I would tell my friends. They had all been born in Nelson and didn’t know the history of my family. ‘When I was little, my sister Miriam was banished. Our leader said she was dead. I believed I’d killed her. A few weeks later, my brother Daniel and our cousin Esther were banished. The Elders said they were dead and damned. I thought Abraham would die too.’
    Jemimah said, ‘You’ve lost two sisters and a brother?’
    ‘Yes. And a cousin. We lost Esther too. Elder Stephen doesn’t like us. It’s because of our lost ones.’ There wasn’t time to tell them about the article in the paper.
    Carmel snorted. ‘I don’t think so! Not when he’s banished ten of his own kids.’
    ‘You’re joking!’ I stared at her. ‘You’re not joking, are you? Ten? For real?’
    ‘Break’s