The Celestial Wife, page 19
Now they were old friends. Sometimes, I felt there had been some unseen hand in my coming here. After all, Saffron had been a guardian angel, saving me twice. If there was, I hoped it was the same benevolent God who was keeping watch over my mom and Brighten. Turning to the North Star, I put my hand over my heart.
“I swear to find a way for Mom and Brighten to have the kind of freedom and happy life that I enjoy here.”
And then I went to bed.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Jean phoned the Apple Dumpling and asked me to meet him at his place, so I changed out of my old sundress into a pair of white shorts and a bright yellow sun-top, borrowed Myrtle, and set out for Paradise.
Jean had told me on the phone that he’d had a long talk with his uncle and wanted to fill me in on what he’d had to say. My clammy hands trembled with anticipation as I struggled to get the car into gear and be off.
It was another beautiful, hot, dry, cloudless day in the Okanagan Valley. Perfect for the tourists who arrived in sleek metal Airstream trailers packed full of kids in swimsuits. Perfect for grapes.
“The question is,” Jean said when we were seated on his porch sipping his latest, perfectly chilled Pinot Gris, “how far does protecting freedom of religion go? What if I told you that I believed that lovely young virgins should be sacrificed to the great wine god, Pinot, and then I picked you up, carried you to the cliff, and dropped you over? Would I have a reasonable defence if I claimed freedom of religion?”
I swallowed hard and blushed deeply. “I—I’m not sure I’m following.”
“Think of all the crazy and awful things that have been done in the name of religion—the Crusades, the Spanish Inquisition, the Holocaust.”
There was a time when I would have had no idea what Jean was talking about.
The only history worth learning is the history of the one true church.
I pushed the thought away.
“Yes, I know—terrible.” I was proud of my newly acquired knowledge and the hard work it took to get it. It made me feel like I fit in, that I belonged in the outside world.
“The point is, there are limits. I remember that from law school. So, when and how should there be limits on the freedom of religion?”
“I’ve done some reading too, and I wondered the same thing. Perhaps when it infringes on the rights of others, of women and children.”
Jean nodded. “My uncle told me that retired Chief Justice Frank Adams is taking on interesting causes for his retirement project. He especially likes to fight for the underdog. Uncle Pierre thought your case would be right up his alley.” Jean paused and smiled at me, his eyes twinkling. “Justice Adams wants to meet you. His retirement home is right across the lake in Peachland.”
I hugged myself in glee. “I can’t believe this is happening. Wait till I tell Mom and Brighten.”
Jean laughed and stood up. “Let’s celebrate. How about a swim? I promise to wear swim trunks, and you can wear what you have on. By the time we climb up the cliff afterwards, they’ll be dry—trust me.”
This time I didn’t hesitate. “You’re on.”
The beach below the cliff was narrow but sandy, the water very enticing. I plunged in, then stood in waist-deep water and yelled, “You could have warned me!”
“Ha ha, not as warm as Willow Beach, but it’s fine, you just have to get used to it. It’s a big, deep lake. Lots of warm and cold currents. Swim around till you find a warm spot.”
I did just that. Having found a warm eddy, I didn’t want to budge.
“Ah, Daisy.”
“Yeah?”
“If you feel something slimy brush against your legs, don’t panic. It’s just the Ogopogo.”
“What?”
“You know, the Ogopogo. It’s like the Loch Ness Monster, only uglier and slimier. Remember how I said this is a really deep lake?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Jean dived under the water. I watched his sleek form as he swam towards me. I shrieked and tried to swim away but got nowhere in the deep water. Jean grabbed my ankle, giving it a tug. I slipped under the water, and we both came up laughing and sputtering. He swam closer, put his arm around my waist, and pulled me to him before gently kissing me. A thrill rippled through my body. The lake suddenly didn’t feel so cold.
His kiss tasted like strawberries dipped in chocolate, and I wanted more. I lost myself in the moment, but he pulled away, diving under the water again and slowly swimming towards shore, leaving me confused and insecure.
If I didn’t count the Bishop, Jean was only my third kiss. Most twenty-one-year-old girls had a lot more experience than me. Was I doing it all wrong? Maybe he didn’t feel anything. Maybe my suspicions had been right in the first place. I wasn’t really his type.
The climb up the cliff was long and hot. By the time we neared the top, my clothes were dry as a bone and felt scratchy against my irritated skin. Sand had found its way under my waistband and into my bra. I pulled at my clothing, trying to get rid of it.
Bijou bounded along ahead of us. “Don’t let him stick his head in the big pile of rocks up ahead. It’s a rattlesnake den,” Jean called from behind.
“You got me once. I’m not falling for it this time.”
“Seriously. This is the northern part of the desert that comes all the way up from Utah and Nevada. There’s lots of weird things around here like cactuses and black widow spiders—and rattlers.”
I shivered. “I should get back,” I told him. I had felt the sting of rejection and now I just wanted to go home. I started towards the car.
“Wait,” Jean said. “Let me give you Justice Adams’s phone number.” He walked up onto the porch and held the screen door open for me. I stepped across the threshold of the cottage but stayed by the door, in a small dining area off an ancient-looking kitchen.
Jean was leafing through a stack of papers on the dining table. “You know, it could help if you also worked at getting public opinion on your side,” he said. “It would put pressure on the government to do something. Why don’t you get Saffron to write articles in her paper on the subject? You could give her some examples of what life is really like in Redemption.”
“We haven’t got much extra time. We’re working really hard on the love-in. Between that and the legal angle, something’s gotta give.”
He handed me a phone number on a scrap of paper. “My uncle says to call the judge when he’s at his Peachland beach house in two weeks.” Jean looked thoughtful, scrubbing the short whiskers on his chin with one hand. “How is the planning for the love-in going?”
I started out the door. “Really well. We’ve got a couple of bands from Kelowna signed on and the Summerland Poets Society will do a reading, the Peachland Drummers group will do two sets, and we’ll have beadwork and macramé workshops. That’s just for starters.” I turned on my heel and headed towards the car, wanting to cut the conversation short and leave.
Jean followed me out. “Saffron is going to Vancouver next weekend to see Jerry Rubin speak at UBC, maybe you should come along. It might do you good to hear his message.”
I kept walking. “What do you mean?”
“He says making social change through peace and love—the hippie mantra—doesn’t really work in the real world. He calls himself a yippie and says the only way to get change is to take control and occupy, demand change.”
Jean was walking a few paces behind me, and I rounded on him.
“You’ve never really supported the idea of a love-in, have you, Jean? You think it’s all airy-fairy crap, don’t you?” I surprised myself at my sudden temper. We stood in the withering, bone-dry heat of the late afternoon, but my face felt several degrees hotter than the air. I rubbed my throbbing temple. My face and my fingertips felt scorched.
Jean held up his hands in surrender. “Whoa, don’t shoot the messenger. All I’m trying to say is I think you’re a little naïve. You haven’t been out in the world like I have. People don’t do what’s right, they do what’s in their own self-interest.”
“I’m sorry you’re such a cynic, Jean, and that you have so little faith in what I’m trying to achieve. I expected more of you.”
I jumped into Myrtle, ground the gears, and slowly puttered down the driveway, leaving Jean in a dusty swirl.
Chapter Twenty-Six
“And this is Daisy signing off from Daisy’s Disks. Groove with me next time when I bring you the very latest in rock-and-roll LPs. Peace and love, everyone.” I switched the dial and watched it bob and dance. “Hey, Brighten, how’s it going? Any better?”
“I’ve been over the morning sickness for a while, but I’m still not feeling very well. Guess I’m into the second trimester. Could even be in the beginning of my third, I don’t know.” She paused and cleared her throat.
“To be honest, Daisy, in the early weeks of the pregnancy I was in denial. I’m pretty sure I’m quite a lot further along than I let on. I refused to believe it until the bulge in my belly became obvious. They won’t let me have any tests, so I don’t know my due date.
“Something seems wrong, but sickness is just a state of mind, they tell me. All I need to do is pray.”
“No way you could see a doctor in town?”
“Not a chance. I’m being punished again. My husband tried to have his turn with me even though I’m pregnant. One of the other wives caught him trying to sneak into my room, and she told the Bishop. It’s a sin for a member of the priesthood to sleep with his pregnant wife, and somehow it’s all my fault. According to the Bishop, I’m a temptress. So now I’m not allowed to visit my mother for two whole months.”
“How is your mom?”
“Not good. Her moods are worse, and this isn’t going to help.”
We spoke quickly, as we always did, never knowing how long we had. “I’ve got news. Things are happening.”
“What do you mean?”
I told her about the retired judge who might help, but she seemed unimpressed. “I don’t know, Daisy. Don’t think I’m not grateful for what you’re trying to do, but the legal system can take years. You remember when the Bishop’s oldest son got charged in that hit-and-run in town? It took two years to go through all the courts, and in the end, he got off. We have to do something now, before my baby is born. I have a feeling it’s not going to go full-term.”
“I get it. I’ve thought it through. First, the love-in will open the doors to people hearing a new message of love and hope for a better life. The Bishop won’t be able to stop a mass exodus. It will weaken the Bishop’s power, and then the legal fight will shut Redemption down for good.”
“That sounds promising. Good luck. I better hang up.” Brighten sounded unconvinced and weary. I switched off my mic and dropped my head down onto the desk in the radio room, struggling with fear and creeping doubts of my own.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“What’s got you so down in the mouth, Daisy-flower? You look like a pothead who’s lost his weed.” Saffron and I were sitting at a table in the Apple Dumpling, pencils in hand, scratching out a list of supplies we needed for the posters we were making for the love-in. I wasn’t making much progress, as I’d spent most of my time staring vacantly out the window at the huge cotton-candy clouds that billowed on the horizon.
“Jean and I had a fight. I mean, I had a fight with him because he behaved like a jerk. At least, that’s the way I saw it.”
Saffron dropped her pencil and leaned away from the table, stretching. “So, like a friends kind of fight or a lovers kind of fight?” She looked at me from under her eyelashes and gave me a coy smile.
I sighed and tossed my pencil on the table. “I think that’s part of the problem. I don’t know. He kissed me, and then—nothing. He didn’t come near me after that—like he hadn’t felt anything, like he wasn’t interested after all.” Jean was the first man I’d had real, grown-up feelings for since Tobias, and I felt rejected.
“I know Jean pretty well and I think he’s interested,” Saffron said.
“He’s not acting like it, and there’s more. I was mad that he has doubts about the love-in.”
“And you told him that?”
“Sort of. It was more like yelling than talking.”
“How did he take it?”
“I didn’t wait around to find out.”
“Well, I think you’re going to find out,” Saffron said, looking over my shoulder and out into the parking area in front of the café. “Here he comes now.”
I watched Jean struggle with the front door as he juggled a box he was carrying, but I didn’t rise to help him. Saffron jumped up, let him in, and called back to me, “Gotta go, see you later.” She left.
I pretended to be busy working on the shopping list, my head bent low over paper and pencil, but I was forced to sit up and acknowledge him when a glass bowl filled with delicate flowers was pushed under my nose.
“Nice. What are they?” I said without looking up.
“Wild cactus flowers. I learned an important lesson as I picked these for you. Never wear sandals in a cactus patch.” He laughed but I didn’t join in. I returned to my work.
“Aren’t you going to thank me?” Jean sat down in Saffron’s vacated chair and leaned low to make eye contact. “They’re a peace offering and an apology. I was an ass the other day and I’m really sorry.”
I didn’t know if he was talking about the kiss or not but decided not to go there. “You’re allowed to have an opinion.”
He paused, holding my gaze. “It was spontaneous. I should have checked with you first, that you wanted to, ah, hear it, before I blurted it out—the opinion, I mean. Don’t be mad at me. Forgive me?”
“I’ll think about it.”
“How long?”
“A while.”
“Okay, I’ll wait.” Jean sat back and folded his hands on the table.
I ignored him in favour of my shopping list, until I looked up and found him grinning at me.
“You’re just going to sit there and wait?”
“Yup.”
I sighed. “Listen, Jean. Thank you. I really owe you. The contact with the retired judge that your uncle arranged is terrific. Hopefully something’ll come of it. I can’t thank you both enough. But we are strictly friends. Nothing more. Okay?”
“Fine, and I promise that the next time I kiss you I will ask your permission first.”
“There isn’t going to be a next time.”
“Oh yes, there is.”
A crowd of children burst through the door, their sticky little hands clutching dimes, and they raced to the ice cream counter to jostle for space. I found myself unconsciously rubbing my wrist as I got up to serve them. I was happy to have my conversation with Jean interrupted. He took the hint.
“I’m off, then. Did you tell Saffron that you’re coming with us to hear Jerry Rubin?”
“See you,” I said, turning my back, pretending to hunt for the scoop. I waited until I heard the screen door slap before I faced the room again. After patiently serving the kids, I wandered out onto the front porch to sit and think.
My thoughts turned to Tobias, my first real crush. I had truly cared for him once, but I was such an innocent, still a kid myself. I was not at all ready for a physical relationship with him. My feelings for Jean were different. I felt a strong desire for him, but at the same time, I didn’t want to get hurt.
In the outside world, men and women had relations all the time, and then they moved on. I wasn’t sure I could handle that. It was far from everything I’d been taught growing up, like that was a reasonable benchmark. Would I ever truly leave Redemption behind?
I wondered if everything was the same there as it always had been, or if the Bishop had received more messages from God. Maybe if there were changes, I could use them to my advantage. I decided to talk to Brighten again.
* * *
“I’ve been thinking about Redemption—wondering if Bishop Thorsen has changed much since I left. If he’s afraid that people are questioning his leadership, maybe he feels that he has to lighten up a bit or face a rebellion. What do you think?”
Brighten laughed bitterly. “No way. If anything, he’s worse. He’s like a cornered animal. He’s pretending to be easygoing, but in many ways he’s doubled down.”
“How so?”
“Daisy, I never really told you about what happened to me after I was caught trying to run away with you. I knew the truth would upset you, so I buried it—never spoke of it to anyone.”
My stomach did a somersault, my voice dropped to barely a whisper. “Did he beat you?”
“Worse. At least a beating would have been over quickly. My punishment wasn’t physical at all. He had my husband’s family lock me in a room with just a bed, no window. They brought me meals but cut my food rations in half. No one but the Bishop spoke to me for weeks. I thought I would go mad.”
Isolation and re-education—so cruel. My mom had been shunned, but this was different, worse in a way. I felt my temples begin to throb and leaned forward to massage them.
“He told me that I needed re-education. The only thing in the room was a book of his sermons. Other than reading the book, there was absolutely nothing to do all day. I got so sad and lonely. I could tell I was losing weight. My hair even began to fall out in spots. After a while I just lay in bed all day and slept.”
I felt the urge to cry and took a moment to try to pull myself together. My voice was hoarse. “Oh, Brighten, I am so, so sorry.” This was all my fault.
“Don’t be sorry. I knew what I was doing. I just didn’t understand how horrible the Bishop could be. Every Sunday evening, he came to my room and asked me if I was ready to repent and be rebaptised.” Brighten’s voice fell. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I thought I would die alone in that room if I didn’t get out of it soon. I told him I was ready.”
“What else could you do? You had to say it. There was no real harm. The Bishop can’t know what’s truly in your heart.”
