Free I Am Not Esther by Fleur Beale Page B

with people who’d talk back. But I bet they weren’t supposed to be talking about it.
    ‘She should not want to paint,’ Damaris said. ‘The word of the Lord and the Rule should be enough for her.’
    ‘Why? Why should it be enough? And where the hell does it say in the Bible that she can’t paint?’ I thought I’d shock them, but they both giggled.
    ‘How many psalms do you know off by heart?’ Charity asked, grinning.
    ‘Only three, plus Chapter 13 of 1 Corinthians,’ I said, smiling back in spite of myself.
    Damaris sighed. ‘You would probably know the entire Bible by now if you lived in our house. My father said he thought Uncle Caleb was being too lenient and that if any of us transgressed like Miriam did, then he would cast us out before we had the chance to run away.’
    ‘Your old man’s stricter than Uncle Caleb?’ I asked. ‘Nobody could be!’ I stared at her, awed. How did she manage to stay sane? She was so pretty. Real model material with huge eyes and high cheekbones. I’d give a lot to look like that.
    ‘Her grandfather is our leader,’ Charity said. ‘And when he is called to the Lord then her father will take his place.’
    ‘How do you stand it?’ I asked, staring at Damaris.
    ‘I like it,’ she said. ‘I like to keep the Rule. I feel safe in the love of the Lord. My faith means a lot to me.’
    I was shocked. Really shocked. How could a kid my age want to live like they did? I turned to Charity. She laughed at me. ‘Yes, me too!’ she said. ‘There is so much hate and unhappiness in the world. But not in our families.’
    ‘Try mine,’ I muttered.
    Their faces grew serious. ‘I think Miriam was wicked,’ Damaris said at last. ‘She has brought great unhappiness to her family and to the whole community.’
    ‘She’s unhappy too!’ I burst out. ‘You didn’t see her! She’s aching to come home.’
    ‘It is easy, then,’ said Charity. ‘She can just come back. We think Uncle Caleb is amazingly kind to her.’
    ‘For crying down the sink!’ I yelled. ‘Is it kind to stop somebody using their God-given talent?’
    ‘She must find some other way of channelling that talent so that it is in tune with God’s law,’ Damaris said.
    ‘Like what?’ I snapped.
    ‘Needlework, gardening. Creating a beautiful garden is glorifying the Lord. Producing children and nurturing them in God’s love.’
    Shit.
    Damaris slid a look at me. ‘Which brings us back to the original question: are you going to take Miriam’s place?’
    ‘I guess I do already.’ I lay on my back and pulled my stupid skirt up to sun my legs. ‘I get to do heaps of housework and baby-sitting.’
    ‘No,’ said Charity, ‘we do not mean like that.’
    ‘Well, what do you mean, then?’
    ‘Miriam’s chosen partner was Gideon,’ said Damaris and then she shut up. There was an electric silence.
    ‘What d’you mean, her chosen partner?’
    Damaris was staring at me. ‘The man she was to marry.’
    ‘On her sixteenth birthday,’ Charity added.
    They had my attention. I sat up in a hurry. ‘You’re kidding!’
    ‘We had the betrothal celebration on her fourteenth birthday,’ said Damaris. ‘It was fun.’
    I couldn’t take it in. Sixteen? Married? I stared from one to the other of them, sitting there in the sun in an ordinary New Zealand back garden, so near the twenty-first century you could practically smell it.
    ‘Did she like him?’ I managed to ask at last.
    ‘Oh yes. He is nice. We all like Gideon. He is fun — not intense, like Daniel.’ Damaris pulled a face.
    Charity giggled, ‘Damaris is to be betrothed to Daniel, but she is not very happy about it. That is why she hopes you will not take Miriam’s place.’
    Damaris smiled dreamily. ‘I would much rather have Gideon. He is so cool — and he will be twenty when I am sixteen.’
    I couldn’t say anything, my jaw wouldn’t work. I just stared at them and felt very pale and very shaky. ‘Do you think,’ I asked slowly,