Lena Jones 02 - Desert Wives

“When was this, Sister Martha?”
    “Some years ago. Esther was around ten, I believe.”
    Earl Graff called out, “She showed her true colors even as a child!”
    Oh, give me a break
. What little girl hasn’t hauled off and socked somebody at some point in her life? Maybe her brother had pulled her pigtails.
    After Martha’s damning accusation, one by one the other members of the compound offered to testify about Esther’s evil ways at her trial. By the time everyone had spoken, Rebecca’s mother had been accused of breaking each of the Ten Commandments, bedding Satan himself, drinking babies’ blood during Black Masses, and funding abortion clinics. If Esther ever came up for trial, her goose was well and truly cooked. Abel Corbett would regain custody of his daughter and whisk Rebecca back to the compound in a heartbeat.
    As I anguished over Rebecca’s possible fate, I heard a groan, then a scraping back of chairs several rows in front of me. The groan was followed by a small shriek.
    “Oh, Jesus!” A girl’s voice.
    I stood so that I could see over the heads in front of me. The cries had come from Rosalinda, Earl Graff’s very pregnant young wife.
    Graff stayed with the other men in the corner, but Davis stepped away from the lectern and hurried to her. Bending over, he said, “Sister Rosalinda? Is it your time? Do you need to go to the clinic?”
    She clutched at his arm. “Yes! Yes! Please! Take me to the clinic!”
    Davis snapped his fingers and several women rushed to Rosalinda’s side. Between them, they were able to get the girl to her feet and out the door.
    Earl Graff never moved.

Chapter 10
    Shortly thereafter, the meeting broke up and the group dispersed, the women to their homes and the men back to whatever jobs called them. As Saul and I stood on Davis’s huge front porch briefly enjoying the fresh air, I looked toward the clinic and saw several women hovering outside. A scream drifted through the open door.
    “They’re not taking that girl to Zion City Hospital?” I asked.
    He grunted. “Old Solomon didn’t think much of modern medicine, that’s why he built the clinic. That girl will deliver her baby right here with the midwives.”
    I frowned. Although I was familiar with Arizona’s midwife training program, I knew nothing about Utah’s. Rosalinda seemed much too young to have her first baby away from a modern hospital with all the emergency equipment it could provide, not to mention some industrial strength painkillers.
    Another scream rent the air. “Saul, what if there are complications?”
    “Yeah, what if?”
    When we stepped off the porch, I noticed Meade Royal in the yard, chatting with a girl about his age. A white-blond, like so many others in Purity, she nevertheless stood out because of the sublimity of her features. If she ever ran away from the compound, she could run straight to Hollywood, where casting directors would greet her beauty with open arms.
    Meade smiled at me, his morning depression vanished. Ah, the resiliency of youth. “Sister Lena, this is Cora, my sister. My real sister, I mean. Not that the rest of you aren’t, uh…” He trailed off, his face red.
    I laughed. “I know exactly what you mean, Brother Meade. Hello, Sister Cora. It’s nice to meet you.”
    She said nothing and her eyes appeared oddly blank.
    Meade gave her arm a gentle squeeze. “Sister Cora, say, ‘It’s nice to meet you, too, Sister Lena.’”
    The girl did as she was told, then turned to him and asked slowly, “Did…did I s-say it right?”
    He beamed at her. “You sure did!”
    I wasn’t quite as buoyed by Cora’s performance. Her lack of affect made me wonder if she might be mildly retarded.
    Saul spoke up, interrupting my thoughts. “I don’t know about you, Sister Lena, but I’m starved. How about we hurry back to the house and get something to eat?”
    Now that he mentioned it, I was surprised to discover hunger nibbling at my belly, too. I waved goodbye to Meade and his sister, and followed Saul back to the house, careful to stay three paces behind.
    Ruby waited for us on the porch. Ignoring my presence, she spoke directly to Saul. “I’m happy you have returned, Brother Saul. Lunch is on the table.” But she looked more irritated than happy, which make me realize she didn’t like to cook any more than I did.
    Well, I couldn’t fault her there. “That’s very kind of you, Sister Ruby.”
    She dismissed my compliment and turned a smile upon