She’d shot back, “I’m up at five o’clock in the morning, getting the children off to school, fixing all the meals, doing all the family laundry, trying to clean a house that refuses to stay clean. I’ve never worked so hard in my life.” Merril told her maybe she’d feel better if she took a nap and that she should be careful not to misrepresent things to him. Cathleen told him that Ruth wasn’t even able to care for her baby. Merril said he knew she wasn’t feeling well and he’d take care of that, too.
After two days in our home, Cathleen was beside herself. Merril was due home the next night, Friday. It also was the day Tammy would officially move into our house. All she could talk about was getting Merril to finally sleep with her.
When Merril returned, Cathleen went up to his office to find him. Two of the toddlers followed in her wake. When she sat down, they flopped in her lap. Ruth joined them, eyes dancing, jaw shaking. Merril acted oblivious to her. She took off her shoes and began smelling the bottom of her feet. She got up and put on one of Merril’s jackets, buttoning and unbuttoning it.
Cathleen became even more distressed at the way Merril ignored Ruth. Why would a man of God allow his wife to behave in such a manner? In the FLDS culture, people believe that the mentally ill have invited evil spirits into themselves. Cathleen could not fathom why Merril would allow a wife who’d been taken over by an evil spirit to be running around his home and scaring his children with her bizarre behavior.
Poor Cathleen. Here was a woman who felt she had been worthy enough to marry a prophet of God. Now she was married to a man who seemed completely ungodly and who allowed a contaminated woman to interact with his children.
It got worse. Merril continued to ignore Ruth until she pulled out all the stops. She announced that she was pregnant. Merril congratulated her.
“This baby I am pregnant with is not your baby,” she said.
Silence.
Ruth was confessing a sin unto death: adultery. Surely, thought Cathleen, this must be at the root of the evil that had overtaken her.
Merril looked at her and said calmly, “Ruth, if you are pregnant, then the baby is mine.”
“I can assure you that the child I am carrying is not yours because this child is God’s.”
Merril told her that all children were of God.
“I have proven worthy enough to carry the child of Jesus Christ. He has come to me and I am pregnant with his baby,” she said in a strange, trancelike voice.
Cathleen could not sit in Merril’s office any longer. Adultery, but with Jesus Christ! Ungodliness was rampant. The devil had inhabited Ruth’s body. Cathleen fled.
Ruth’s mother had been mentally ill, and because of that, her father was allowed to enter plural marriage—his ticket to the celestial kingdom. Ruth, when she was stable enough to have a semblance of coherent thoughts, saw mental illness as a sacrifice for God. The ravages of her mother had helped her father on his path to celestial glory. Ruth always had grandiose fantasies when she was most disturbed. If it wasn’t Jesus’ baby, she was carrying the child of Joseph Smith or God.
When I came home with Tammy after helping her move from Uncle Roy’s, I saw Ruth in the kitchen and realized she was sicker than I’d ever seen her before. She was crying because one of the children had left a pair of socks on the floor. What frightened me was that I sensed that she was on the verge of violence.
She stormed off into her bedroom. I followed her and found her on her knees, begging for God’s mercy between sobs.
“Ruth, are you all right?”
“No.” She looked at me blankly. “I haven’t been able to sleep all week, and even when I lie down and try to, I can’t sleep.” Her speech was slow and her words seem to lurch out.
I kneeled beside her and put my arm around her and helped her get up. I guided her to a chair, covered her with a blanket, and offered to get her some hot tea. I came back with a mug of peppermint tea for her and placed it beside her easy chair.
Then I went to find Merril. Merril was in his office with his adoring teenage daughters around him. They were laughing and giggling. I stood by the door until Merril noticed me.
“There’s my Carolee. How are you doing tonight?” Carolee was Merril’s pet name for me, which I never liked. But it was better than when he accidentally called me by one of his daughters’ names.
I looked at him and replied, “I’m doing great, but I can’t say that for all of your wives.”
“What concerns could my lovely wife Carolee have?”
“Merril, have you seen Ruth since you’ve been home?”
“Yes, she came up here and talked to me a while ago.”
“Then you know she’s extremely ill and somebody needs to do something for her. I found her downstairs, crying and shaking all over.”
He was dismissive. “I will look into it, and thank you, Carolee, for your concern.”
I went back to her room, but she was gone. The peppermint tea was untouched.
Then I heard the shrieks and ran to the kitchen. Ruth was throwing different things around and breaking some glass bowls. “I am going to get the devil out of you if I have to break you to do it.”
Several of the smaller children were watching her and laughing.
When she paused I said quietly, “Ruth, do you think you’ve gotten the devil out of enough of the dishes now?”
She seemed to snap into reality. “Yes, I think I can get the devil out of the other dishes later.”
I reminded her that she hadn’t drunk her peppermint tea. She thought she had. I suggested we go back to her room and she could try sipping it through a straw. I made her half a sandwich. It was tedious work coaching her to eat and drink, but after two hours she finished the sandwich and tea. I rubbed her shoulders until she seemed to be asleep.
Cathleen and I were both up the next morning at five. She told me how ghastly the past few days had been and how upset she was about Merril’s reaction to Ruth’s madness. “The way I’m being treated is completely unacceptable,” she said. “There is no way I’m going to stand for it. Uncle Roy and his other wives always treated me like I was their little princess. I have been a princess to a prophet of God and I will not be treated as something lesser by people who are nobodies.”
I listened as she catalogued her disgust. “The preschoolers in this home do not have a mother willing to care for them. Barbara is only interested in supervising Merril every minute of the day. Ruth doesn’t love her children because if she did, she’d never allow herself to be inhabited by forbidden spirits. Faunita only comes out of her room at night when everyone is asleep.”
Cathleen lowered her voice. “One night I woke up and heard Faunita slamming things around. I got up and listened at the bottom of the stairs. I could hear her talking to herself and complaining about Merril. I think she hates him.” I told her that I knew Faunita and Merril had a lot of problems in their relationship.
The two of us made breakfast for the family: stacks of toast, two gallons of orange juice, and a large pan of scrambled eggs. I took a plate to Ruth’s bedroom.
Ruth and Merril’s daughter Merrilyn was there. She was my age—the former nuss who’d shyly flirted with our teacher at the pencil sharpener a few years before—and looked exhausted. She’d been assigned to sit with her mother all night and scowled when I entered the room. I encouraged her to urge her mother to eat. She shot back, “I know how to take care of my mother. I have been doing it all my life.” As I turned to walk away I saw her stick her tongue out at me.
Back in the kitchen, Cathleen had gathered the preschoolers around the table for breakfast. She was brushing their hair while they ate, yanking and pulling at the snarls. So much for her pristine sense of order and tidiness, I thought. I saw that Millie, a sweet four-year-old, was next in line. I knew she had a sensitive scalp so I took her into my bedroom, which was downstairs near the kitchen, and carefully combed her hair.
When we returned to the kitchen, Merril’s teenage daughters were stre
aming in. They were annoyed about having to give up one of their bedrooms to Tammy and Cathleen. They had been so eager for additional mothers to counterbalance what they perceived as Barbara’s tyranny, but now they were starting to see the consequences. Tammy was vying for their father’s attention all the time. The house was more crowded. But above all, Barbara seemed to have a lock on Merril’s attention. With three wives waiting in the wings, they were more shut out now than ever before.
Merril walked past the kitchen after sleeping with Barbara again. He sent one of the children in and asked that I bring coffee upstairs to his office. When I returned, Tammy was in the kitchen, her cheeks flushed with anger.
I asked Cathleen what was wrong. “She knows,” she said.
“Knows what?”
“She knows Merril hasn’t been sleeping with me, either. He hasn’t slept with anyone but you and Barbara.”
I was shocked. I told Cathleen I’d thought she had slept with him on her wedding night.
“No, I have been married to him for a week now and he hasn’t stayed with me at all.”
Tammy had not been badgering Merril as much in recent days because she thought he was sleeping with Cathleen. Now she knew the truth and stormed right up to Merril’s office. I followed, curious to hear what would happen.
Barbara was with Merril. Tammy entered and said, “I guess for some men when they get a new wife it is off with the new and on with the old.” Merril started to laugh.
Barbara chimed in. “Father, I think it would be good if you took Tammy and me on a drive to look at the Saturday work projects. Maybe Tammy would be interested in learning about her husband instead of you listening to how she feels.”
I left the office as fast as I could. I didn’t want to get stuck driving around all day with the three of them listening to Merril’s sermons about all his good work. When they got back that night, Barbara said they’d decided Ruth needed to go to Hildale and have Aunt Lydia give her a vitamin B12 shot.
This was ridiculous. Ruth had barely slept or eaten for a week. She needed major medical intervention, not a vitamin shot. Barbara went searching for her half sister and found her at the table, crying. “Ruth, you are to come with me at once. Merril has had enough of your nonsense. We’re going to Hildale for a B12 shot and then all this crying can end and you can straighten up and be some use to your husband.” Hildale was the clinic where we delivered our babies. Aunt Lydia was the wife of the bishop and acted as nurse and midwife. She had no degree, but her years of experience made her very reliable. She did most of the basic medical care in the community.
Ruth lit into Barbara. “Get away from me right now. I am not going anywhere with you. You are all puffed up with pride and filled with the devil.”
“Ruth, you are in rebellion to your husband and you are to stop this at once. I command it. If you rebel against me, then you are rebelling against your priesthood head and God will not be able to help you.” Barbara grabbed Ruth by the arm.
Ruth found energy I didn’t know she had to push Barbara off her. After she did, she seized her by the throat and began choking her. She pushed Barbara back against the stove until the other woman was nearly lying on top of it. “I am going to kill you. You deserve to die for what you have done to me.” Ruth was enraged.
Barbara managed to push herself free momentarily. She screamed, “Go get Merril!” before Ruth lunged again at her and pinned her down.
I ran outside to the van and banged on the window. Merril could see that something was really wrong and he opened the door. I just shouted, “You have to get downstairs now.” The fear in my voice sent him running.
By the time he got in the house, Ruth had retreated to her bedroom and was crying. Barbara was in her bedroom. Frightened children were huddled in the corner of the bathroom next to the kitchen, crying.
Merril stormed into Ruth’s room and started screaming at her. His words were muffled by her loud crying. I felt so dizzy I suddenly found it hard to stand. Several of Merril’s teenage daughters came running. When they saw the small children crying they looked at me in shock. “What happened? What’s going on?”
I looked at them blankly. What was I supposed to say—I just watched your mother try to kill your aunt? I merely shook my head and walked away. Someone else could fill them in. I was too depleted.
Barbara and Merril slept together again that night. Cathleen and Tammy were still shut out. Tensions kept rising.
Honeymoon
Two weeks after Merril’s two weddings, he decided it was time for a honeymoon and that all of his six wives and thirty-four children would go.
For years, Merril had been promising the family a trip to the San Diego Zoo. His construction company was working on a major project in Yuma, Arizona. In a maniacal moment of multitasking, he opted to combine a honeymoon, site visit, and trip to the zoo into a five-day ordeal.
Merril rented a Greyhound bus from a friend who lived in the community. It was old and had been out of service for several years. Merril assigned his twenty-year-old son Nathan to drive the bus. Five wives would ride with Merril in his van. Faunita was assigned to travel in the bus with the children.
Tammy had finally spent a night with Merril. She was so excited afterward that she couldn’t talk about anything else. She told Cathleen that she felt like she would count every breath she breathed until he slept with her again. But Cathleen still had not slept with Merril. Faunita remained sequestered in her bedroom. She was angry about not being invited to the double wedding and now rarely left her room. Ruth was still in the throes of madness. Aunt Lydia had prevailed upon Merril to let Ruth take some potent sleeping medication, so at least she now slept for a few hours every night. But it had been weeks since she’d been able to care for any of her fourteen children.
Cathleen broke the news to me about the trip one morning when I walked into the kitchen for coffee. She was washing the breakfast dishes and motioned for me to sit down. “We are going on the largest family trip I have ever been on in my life, and we’re leaving in less than a week.” She looked dazed and stricken. The full horror of our family life was becoming increasingly obvious to her every day.
“No one has even started talking about how we are going to take care of the children on this trip. If Barbara and Ruth treat them on the road the way they do at home, then you and I will be doing everything.” I knew she was right. She said we could expect no help from Tammy, who had been completely spoiled and pampered by Uncle Roy’s family.
I told her that I didn’t see why we should be made to be responsible for Barbara’s and Ruth’s children.
“Carolyn, it’s not about right or wrong. It’s not about fair.” Her voice was firm. “You and I are the only ones in the family fixing meals, combing hair, doing dishes, changing diapers, and cleaning. The trip won’t be any different. We can spend the next few days working around the clock trying to get ready, or we can find the responsibility dumped on us at the last minute with no way of making any provisions to care for the kids—a sad place for both of us.”
I started to tremble from nervousness. I’d never had this kind of responsibility before. Cathleen did not seem scared. Nor did she ever mention the word honeymoon. I think she still held out hope that she might be able to escape from her marriage to Merril.
We quietly made preparations. Forty-one people—thirty-four of them children—was too large a group to eat in restaurants. We would have to take all our food. Cathleen and I began baking bread and cookies. We packed cereal and lots of snack food such as raisins, pretzels, and gigantic bags of chips that we separated into small zip-top bags.
Merril had a charge account with the local grocery store, so after Cathleen and I did five days’ worth of menu planning, we went shopping multiple times.
But food was only half the battle. We had to pack clothing, bedding, and other supplies for all the children, four of whom were still in diapers. Planning and organizing were overwhelming. But the worst was yet to come.
r /> A day or two later, Cathleen and I were placing dozens of loaves of homemade bread into boxes and plastic bread bags when Barbara marched into the kitchen and said in her authoritarian way, “What kind of arrangements are you girls making for food? What plans have been made for the children’s clothing?” None of our answers were satisfactory. “Father has given me the job to see to it that you girls get things together in the way he wants them handled. It’s clear neither one of you is in harmony with him or you would have been checking in with me before you started this project.”
Barbara was adamant that everything we had done so far was wrong. But she was unable to tell us what to do to fix it. When I said to her, “Barbara, how much sandwich meat do you think we will need for one lunch?” she looked clueless. I told her we were doing the baking first and would get the items for the cooler last. She stammered as she said, “I think that the amount of meat is of no importance. The thing that is important is if you girls are packing the kinds of meals that are agreeable for Father’s children to be eating. I will be telling you what to do from this point on.”
If the look on my face could have spoken, it would have said, I don’t think so. Instead, I quietly said, “Barbara, maybe Merril needs to come and talk to us. Cathleen and I will gladly explain what we are doing. We’ll listen to anything he has to say. Rather than complaining, maybe you could offer some input about what we’ve done right rather than nit-picking everything we’ve done so far.”
Barbara stiffened. I was surprised by my candor. I usually didn’t talk back to her, but this time she’d really pushed me. I had to push back. I clearly caught her completely off guard. “I will talk to Father about the way you girls have treated me. I only want the trip to be prepared in a way that will be of comfort to my husband. Both of you have enough jealousy and hostility toward me that we will never be united behind our priesthood head.”
Cathleen now had one more reason to be shocked and upset. After Barbara left, she said, “Uncle Roy would never have allowed one of his wives to treat another wife the way we were both just treated. I don’t care what she accuses me of if I don’t suck up to her abuse.”