We lived about five miles from school, and one of the things Lenore did to pick fights with me was to “forget” to pick me up even though we were sharing my car. The first few times it happened I was annoyed. Once I saw that it had become a pattern, I realized it was deliberate and abusive. I told Merril that Lenore was trying to hurt my grades. He said my accusations were unjust.
Merril and I had several more heated discussions about this over the phone. Conflict between Merril and me created glory for Lenore in the family. When we went home on weekends, Barbara would reward her by taking her shopping and treating Lenore like her best friend. Lenore now had status in the family. She’d gone from a nobody to someone special.
Lenore soon started bragging to her sisters about how she had been treating me at college. They envied the attention she was getting from Merril as a result. Merril seemed obsessed with the idea that I’d get in trouble at school and damage his reputation within the community.
After a few weeks I changed my strategy. Complaining about Lenore was backfiring. It gave Lenore attention she craved and gave Merril a reason to scold me and say I was a bad person. Instead, I put on a happy face, and when I spoke to Merril by phone I told him everything was fine, just fine.
Once I stopped complaining about her, neither Merril nor Barbara had reason to congratulate her. I acted as though she didn’t exist. I found some cousins who were also taking classes and they agreed to give me a ride home. I explained that Lenore and I had scheduling conflicts and they were happy to help out.
That night, Lenore told Merril I refused to ride home with her. When she finished speaking to him, she pranced into the room and told me to come to the phone. Merril demanded to know what was going on. I said I’d simply made other arrangements since Lenore had been unable to pick me up. This seemed easier, and I thought everyone would be happy.
Merril exploded. “You’re the only one that is happy about this! Embarrassing me like this is terrible. I want you to ride home with Lenore and nobody else.” I was perfectly acquiescent. I started having my cousins drop me off a few blocks from the apartment so Lenore would think that I had walked. I was too embarrassed to tell my cousins what was really going on. I would always wait at the arranged place and sometimes Lenore would come to pick me up. If she did not, I knew my cousins would come for me within forty-five minutes.
Merril called every night. I told him that everything was fine. This drove Lenore right up the wall. How could she be rewarded for abusing me if I didn’t complain?
Her grades slipped. I had cut her out of my life and found other friends. Lenore was isolated and very unhappy. One day I heard her call Barbara at Page. “Carolyn thinks she’s so much better than I am. She treats me like I am total scum and refuses to talk to me.” Listening to Lenore’s meltdown, I almost felt sorry for her. She was a pawn in Barbara and Merril’s game. They were using her to do their dirty work and betraying her in the process.
A few hours after her teary call with Barbara, Merril called and talked to Lenore for several hours. The next day, several of her sisters arrived to spend the rest of the week with us. This worked to my advantage because Lenore took a break from torturing me to enjoy her sisters.
But in the long run, nothing changed. Lenore complained to them that I was mistreating her and that she was all alone. Her grades were suffering because I was so mean. She was only going to school to assist Father. Poor Lenore.
Where she succeeded was in changing the dynamic at home. Merril’s other nine teenage daughters now aligned themselves against me. They were rude to me and demanded explanations from me for my actions. Their stance was that they knew their father and what he wanted. I reminded them that I was, in fact, one of their mothers and it was their job to answer to me, not the reverse. They didn’t care. What they wanted was the kind of preferential treatment that Lenore was not getting, and they also wanted Barbara’s approval.
Before I married Merril, they’d competed with Barbara for Merril’s attention. Now by turning the tables against me, they were Barbara’s allies, not her adversaries.
What confused them, though, was that when Merril came home for the weekends, he still wanted to spend time with me. Once I settled into classes at Cedar, he made it a point to get there on Mondays. He’d come when Lenore was at class so he could have sex with me and then take me to dinner. Lenore would return and realize we were gone.
Merril’s daughters soon saw that despite their abuse of me, I was still getting rewards from their father. So there was a shift in tactics. His daughters started reporting to Barbara. She would listen intensely, praise them, and see that they got special treatment or a favor.
There was little that I did that they could fault, and I refused to fight with them, so they began to make things up. They also rifled my bedroom at home and stole my sheet music and country and western tapes, turning them in to their father.
When Merril approached me with the evidence, I went through the roof. I think he was shocked at my anger. I told him that allowing his daughters to invade my privacy was going too far and he had to put a stop to it.
“It’s up to me to decide who can go through your things,” he replied. “If there is something inappropriate, it should be brought to my attention.”
I shot back, “If those are the conditions of living here, then maybe I will have to leave this house. I am not willing to live this way.”
Merril showed no emotion. The last thing he could do would be to act as though I had any impact on him. “You are to do what I say. If you are doing the things I want you to do, then there should be no problems with other family members going through your things because there will be nothing to find.”
I turned and went into my bedroom. I decided to go through my belongings and give everything that might create conflict with Merril to my friends. He hated turtleneck sweaters because they showed the shape of my bust, so I never wore them around him, but I’d kept them. I also had several sheer blouses that I never dared wear around him. But rather than risk having them confiscated, I gave them away to friends. I also began to lock my bedroom door.
This was like adding kerosene to a smoldering fire. Soon there were flames. Merril asked me why I was locking my bedroom door. “Your daughters need to respect me enough to give me some privacy.”
Merril said he’d given his daughters permission to pick the lock on my door. “No one in my family has the right to hide things from me,” he said.
I told him there was nothing in my room to find. But invading my privacy was abusive. Merril accused me of not being in harmony with him. I surely was not, but I kept my mouth shut.
The following weekend when I came back from college, I found that some of my personal items were missing from my room. They were nowhere to be found. I went to Merril and said they’d been stolen. “Carolyn, saying things have been stolen is a strong accusation. There is nothing that you have that doesn’t belong to me. If someone in my family needs something, you should not begrudge their taking it.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was giving his daughters a free pass to rob me blind. I left Merril’s home that morning and spent the entire weekend at my father’s house. I returned to Merril’s to sleep, but nothing else. I refused to go to church with Merril’s family, and late Sunday told Lenore I was going back to school. She could come with me that night or make other plans. She stomped off.
Merril called me that night in Cedar and asked where I’d been all weekend. He complained that I hadn’t checked in with him before going back to school. I made light of his concerns and told him that I’d gone back early to study for exams.
After that first weekend, I made it a habit to leave on Sunday night for college. I spent as much time away from Merril’s family as I could. I stopped cooking on weekends. I stopped coming home and trying to help Ruth clean house. I continued to lock my bedroom door. It improved my life immensely. I was out of Barbara’s line of fire, which reduced the pressure on me. If I
was doing something in the house, she would find any reason to correct me. “Father wants the chairs put up on the table before the floor is swept.” “Father wants you to improve X.” “Father likes it when you do Y this way.” It was all about power and domination. I opted out, which was seen as outright rebellion. Now Barbara could go to Merril with further proof of my unworthiness as a wife. For her it was a win no matter what I did. When I realized that, I just did what was going to be best for me.
What Audrey had told me on our first bike ride to the reservoir was true. Barbara would do anything she could to undermine me. Ruth eventually came to me and asked me why I wasn’t helping her more on weekends with the cleaning. I told her it was because I had a lot of studying to do. She said I should do it during the week and help the family when I was home. Her complaints were soon echoed by Merril’s daughters. I was purposely not studying during the week at Cedar to avoid helping out around the house on weekends.
Merril’s daughters retaliated with one of the few weapons they had left: wash time. It might not sound like much to someone on the outside of our world, but in a large family, wash time was sacrosanct. When I would go to use a machine at my allotted time, I’d find one of Merril’s daughters doing her laundry. There would be a lame excuse—she’d missed her time and had no clothes. I knew if I complained, Merril would side with his daughters, so I didn’t.
Audrey came to my rescue. She was coming home to wash her clothes, and she shared whatever time she had with me. By stepping in and protecting me, she made the other girls disdainful. They began making fun of her and said it was no wonder God had cursed her. She had been a disobedient daughter, and that was why she’d been given to a man of no importance. Audrey had never participated with the other girls in abusing me and or hurting others. But for her to actually protect me was seen by them as an outright betrayal.
One Saturday morning Merril called everyone for morning prayers. When I didn’t show up, he sent one of his daughters to find me. My bed was empty because I’d gone for an early morning bike ride. But she lied and told Merril I was still in bed and refused to come to prayers.
Merril said it was obvious that I had no interest in doing what my husband wanted, and he berated me in front of his family.
After prayers, he walked out of the house to go to breakfast with some other men. He saw me ride my bike into the yard. When I went to put it away, he approached me. He began laughing. “I was told this morning you were sleeping and refusing to get up. I just told the entire family you were a lazy pig with no interest in doing what your husband wants.”
I didn’t know why he was telling me this. Was he trying to intimidate me? He’d smeared me to his family and now was making it into a big joke.
I told him it was too bad he felt this way toward me.
I walked toward the house without turning back. I was beyond disgusted with Merril and his family. I had figured out, though, that if I wanted to be able to smart off to him, I had to start right from the beginning of the marriage. I’d never get away with it if I waited and started later.
I knew that when Merril attacked me, it was like dumping blood and chum in the water and that the sharks would soon swim around. But how much worse could it really get?
I was in my bedroom for a few minutes when I heard a knock on the door. It was one of Barbara’s daughters asking me to come to the kitchen to meet with her. I told the child I’d be there in a moment. Two minutes later she was back. “Mother wants to invite you to help her and all of the girls in cleaning the kitchen.” I told her I had a few things to finish first.
I locked my door and climbed out my bedroom window and went to my father’s house, where I remained for the rest of the day. I knew there would be repercussions for my misbehavior, but it was better than being the family scapegoat. My family knew how unhappy I was in my marriage but offered little consolation. My parents didn’t like to see me upset, but they also believed that my marriage was a revelation from God.
When I came home that night Merril stormed into my room while I was getting ready for bed. He began hounding me about why I’d refused to help Barbara with cleaning the kitchen. I said I hadn’t refused. I had explained I had a few things to finish before I could help. Merril tried to provoke me into an argument with him. But I kept thinking of Audrey’s stories of how he’d attacked Faunita, and I resisted getting drawn into any confrontations. He finally left, and I closed my bedroom door, relieved that he hadn’t slapped me.
Thankfully, he didn’t stay with me that weekend or visit me in Cedar after the weekend. I was relieved by the absence of stress. The next weekend, he came and spent a night with me, but never again would we spend Saturday and Sunday nights together as we usually had. There were times when he would sneak into my room in the middle of the night and have sex with me while Barbara was asleep. He returned to her room right away and she never even knew.
But even though Merril was spending less time with me, it didn’t decrease the pressure on me or the abuse directed toward me from everyone else in the house except the children.
Tragedy
Four months after my marriage I was finishing up my final summer classes at Cedar and feeling reasonably grounded. While Merril’s family seemed dark, strange, and complicated, I knew that if I could stay in college and carve out a place for myself in the world, it would offset the other realities I had to deal with as wife number four.
In the middle of my final week, Lenore got a phone call from home with the news that the prophet had decided her sister Rebecca would marry Rulon, a young man in the community who was in his early twenties.
Rebecca, at nineteen, was a year older than I, and now that she had been assigned in marriage, all of Merril’s remaining unmarried daughters were my age or younger. Lenore got permission from Merril to go home for Rebecca’s marriage, which was taking place the next day. I stayed at school to keep studying, relieved that I didn’t have to change my final exams again as I had to do when I married.
Even though I wasn’t there, the stories reached me about Rulon and Rebecca. He hadn’t met her before he found out she’d been assigned to him. When he went over to Merril’s house for the first time, all of Merril’s daughters waited in the office. Rulon arrived, not knowing which daughter was to be his bride.
Rulon, who was shy and apparently almost stuttering, said, “Is Rebecca here?” One of the girls said, “Yes, she is, and she is right there.” She then pointed to the youngest sister in the room. That girl quickly exclaimed, “It’s not me, it’s her!” before pointing to someone else who looked way too young for marriage, even in the FLDS. Rulon looked red and embarrassed when he realized the game that was being played at his expense. Finally Rebecca stood up laughing and said, “Yes, I am here. I’m the one you have come for.”
Rebecca was one of Merril’s and Ruth’s most beautiful daughters. She had long black hair and green eyes. She had a vibrant and engaging personality. But she was stunned by her arranged marriage, I later learned. She simply told Rulon that her sisters were heartbroken that she was leaving the family and couldn’t resist giving him a hard time. They were married the next day.
I went home, eager to settle into the few quiet days of August that remained. When I had free time I would try to go over to my father’s home and help out with the children. Ever since my marriage, it had been difficult for my mother to adjust to having less help around the house. There were still nine small children at home.
One slow, sultry day in August, my sixteen-year-old sister, Annette, offered to take the children on a picnic to a place we called Indian Bathtubs. It was about five miles from town where big rocks with holes in them caught the rainwater. It was peaceful and safe, the perfect place for a picnic with a lot of little children. My cousin Bonnie brought six of her siblings and Annette brought nine of hers. All fifteen children were loaded in the back of my father’s pickup truck and left for the day.
The kids loved riding in the truck, even though the hot, d
usty wind that blew across the desert plateau we lived on kicked up sand that stung their eyes and made a mess of their hair. Annette was driving, and Bonnie kept her eye on the children through the open window that faced the back of the truck.
Suddenly the truck came over a crest on the road and hit a bump. Even though it wasn’t going too fast, the truck flipped when it hit an embankment of sand and landed with an enormous thud on top of several children.
The children trapped under the truck were panicked and those who had been thrown from it were screaming in terror. The truck was smoking. Annette told me later she knew it was going to explode.
She and Bonnie ran to the truck and lifted it so the other children could pull their siblings out. Some of the children were injured themselves but nevertheless tried to do what they could to extricate their siblings from the wreckage. Most of the children were under six but still tried with all their might to do what they could.
Annette thought she had everyone out from under the truck when she saw Nurylon’s lifeless body. Nurylon was my two-year-old sister and my mother’s namesake. We looked like identical twins, even though we were sixteen years apart. Annette grabbed Nurylon and took her to the side of the road, away from the truck, and frantically began doing CPR, trying to breathe oxygen and life back into her body. She heard a gurgling in her lungs and thought it might be a sign of life, so she breathed even harder into the limp child.
The truck exploded. The children screamed in terror. The heat from the blast radiated back toward the injured. The fourteen children watched as flames consumed the truck and as Annette kept up her desperate efforts to save Nurylon. She finally quit when she realized she was having no impact. Nurylon’s limp body held no signs of life.
Annette and Bonnie had to get help for the fourteen surviving children. Some seemed to have serious injuries, even though they were breathing. But what to do? No one had cell phones in those days, and they were also no longer on the main road. Help would come only if someone ran for it.