Escape

  I also knew that although Uncle Roy had given me permission to go to school, my husband could overrule him in this area because he would be the ultimate authority in my life.

  Merril Jessop. I knew that name. I’d gone to school with his daughters—they were the nusses. I was now going to be one of their mothers. I knew enough about Merril Jessop to know I didn’t like the way he treated his family. He had the reputation within the community of being a jerk. I was eighteen. This was outrageous. Marrying a man who was fifty was like marrying my grandfather. I knew a few boys who worked for Merril on what we called “slave crews.” They thought he was an ass. He didn’t pay them and worked them like dogs.

  I looked at my father in horror. “How does Merril feel about this marriage? How does he feel about marrying a child?”

  “Oh, he’s done it before.”

  My father went on to explain that when a directive like this comes down from the prophet of God, it’s very important not to waste time. He was stern. “It’s very critical that you accept what the prophet has given you. This is a tremendous blessing. You should not question it or allow the devil to interfere and get into your feelings on this issue.”

  I could barely breathe.

  My father continued, “I talked to Merril and arranged for you to marry him this Saturday.”

  Saturday was two days away.

  My life had been swiped out from under me.

  What if I ran away? Where could I escape? I had seen what happened to my sister Linda after she fled—she was hunted down like an animal. There was no one I could turn to for help. I didn’t know anyone on the outside.

  My father wouldn’t even let me go back to the bedroom I shared with Annette. My father said I had to sleep with my mother because we were going to take a trip to Bullfrog and meet Merril for breakfast. My parents didn’t plan to let me out of their sight until Saturday; they had clearly orchestrated this so I would not be able to escape my fate. They had been deeply humiliated by Linda’s bolt for freedom. By taking me out of town, I couldn’t tell my sister or anyone else about what had happened.

  I told my father I was worried about finishing my classes and taking my final exams. My father said they were unimportant. Doing what the prophet ordered was all that mattered.

  We left the house early the next morning and drove to Bullfrog. We traveled through Page, Arizona, on our way there. Merril owned the largest construction company in Page and spent much more time there than he did in Colorado City. Merril was an hour late to breakfast. We had already finished eating. Merril had a cup of coffee with us but spoke only to my father. Merril was only five foot seven, with dark curly hair, weathered and wrinkled skin, blue eyes, and yellow teeth. Merril made a few jokes and then got up to leave.

  He knew then that he was marrying the wrong girl. As I later learned, after he asked the prophet for me by name, he went to see my father, who showed him my picture. That’s when he realized he’d asked for the wrong daughter. His intention had been to marry my sixteen-year-old sister Annette, who was the family beauty. She was tall and thin with blond hair that fell nearly to her knees. But when he talked to the prophet, Merril got our names mixed up.

  Apparently, Merril had gone to the prophet after my father sued him for damages in a business deal. He told Uncle Roy he’d lose millions of dollars if the lawsuit went through. His pitch to Uncle Roy was that if he married one of my father’s daughters, he’d be family and the lawsuit would be dropped. He had seen Annette and knew how beautiful she was, but confused her name with mine. Uncle Roy, in turn, told my father that he’d had a revelation from God about this marriage. Once he said that, there was no turning back.

  After Merril left the restaurant that morning, we went to Bullfrog. Mother and I went shopping for fabric for a wedding dress. In the FLDS culture, women make their wedding dresses well before their marriages, because sometimes a girl has only two hours’ notice before she’s married and the only way a woman can count on having a dress is by making it in advance. The dress is very modest; it’s white with long sleeves, a high neck, and a skirt that stops four inches above the ankles. There is no veil or other frills.

  It was really important to my mother that I have a wedding dress. When we got home late that Friday night, she stayed up all night sewing. I called my teachers at the community college and said I couldn’t take my finals and didn’t know when I would be able to reschedule them. I was a conscientious student and my teachers, who knew something unexpected must have happened to me, asked no questions.

  My father came into the room shortly after I finished making my calls and said Merril was coming to pick me up. He wanted to take me back to his house and introduce me to his family before we left for our wedding in Salt Lake City. The prophet was living in Salt Lake City and my parents didn’t want to postpone the marriage. I think they were worried that with more time, I’d find a way to get out of it or bolt as Linda had. I’m sure that’s why I was never allowed to be alone again after I was told about my marriage. My parents could not risk the humiliation they’d face if another daughter rebelled.

  When Merril arrived at the house, my younger siblings answered the door and came running to get me. Merril didn’t acknowledge me. He walked past me and into the kitchen, where he said hello to everyone. When he left, it was clear that he expected me to follow him, and I did. His truck was parked outside. He didn’t even bother to open the door for me.

  I got into the truck thinking we were definitely off to a bad start. Neither one of us said a word.

  I had no experience with men. I had never really dated a boy. Relationships were taboo in our culture. In theory, we weren’t even allowed to socialize with boys, but there were ways around that, as we’d discovered in theology class. My father was the only man I had ever interacted with. I’d never actually met Merril Jessop. I knew who he was because he sometimes came to our house to talk business with my dad.

  As his truck pulled away from our house, I felt like I was front and center in a horror movie that was being played out in front of me. Except that the horror was real, and there was no escape.

  I wanted to say, Merril, you don’t want to marry me, and I don’t want to marry you. Take me home. But that wasn’t an option.

  We were silent all the way to his house. Once we arrived, he called everyone together to meet their new mother. Faunita, Merril’s first wife, gave me a joyous hug. She said she was absolutely delighted that Merril was getting a new wife because the family really needed one. I didn’t know what she meant.

  We walked into the living room, and people came from everywhere to give me a hug. I was hugged by at least forty people. I wasn’t used to being touched, and it made me very uncomfortable. Merril ordered his two other wives, Barbara and Ruth, to give me a hug. Ruth made the best of it, but Barbara treated me like the enemy. Battle lines were drawn. I was in hostile territory and it freaked me out.

  In just twenty-four hours, I had gone from worrying about my finals to preparing for a marriage I didn’t want to a man I barely knew. When I got back home, Mom was still frantically working on my wedding dress. She needed me for a final fitting. I was so scared I felt like a zombie bride.

  Within hours, Merril’s family arrived at my home. He brought his three wives with him and his favored daughters—the nusses. In high school, I’d thought I couldn’t get through the year with them; in marrying their father, I’d be stuck with them for eternity.

  There had been intense competition among his daughters to get to go to the wedding. The losers had to stay home and babysit. He sent a few of the girls to help my mother finish my wedding dress because he didn’t want to wait any longer.

  We traveled to Salt Lake City in a small caravan of cars on Saturday morning—less than forty-eight hours since my father had dragged me out of bed to announce my engagement. I rode in the backseat of my father’s van. At one stop, Merril got into our van and talked business with my dad for an hour or two. He never once acknowledged me.
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  It was only much later that I would learn that I was part of a business deal, a way for Merril to get back into my father’s good graces after my father filed a lawsuit against him. But at that time, my father truly believed that the prophet, Uncle Roy, had received a revelation from God that I was to become Merril’s wife. My father was so brainwashed that he couldn’t see the obvious, and I was years away from connecting those dots myself.

  I was brainwashed, too. I knew I didn’t want Merril to hold my hand or touch me. I didn’t even want him to open the car door for me. But I had been conditioned enough to believe that this must be some test from God that Merril and I had to endure and pass.

  I had been raised in the FLDS sect and at eighteen still believed that Uncle Roy was a prophet of God. For me to reject my marriage was to reject God’s will in my life. I didn’t understand the revelation about my marriage at all. But I’d internalized a lifetime of teaching that said God’s ways are not man’s ways and that there must be a purpose to this that would be revealed in time.

  When we got to Salt Lake City, we checked into the Comfort Inn. My father had brought my mom and Rosie with him and reserved two rooms. When I realized there wasn’t a room for me, it hit me—I would be expected to sleep with Merril.

  Up until this point, I had been too overwhelmed to consider the possibility of sex. The gravity keeping my world in place was gone. I was not only a virgin but someone who had never been touched in an intimate or romantic way. I had been kissed—once—by a boy, but we both got into trouble for it and were made to feel ashamed. The idea of sexual or physical contact with a man thirty-two years my senior was terrifying.

  Both of my mothers helped get me ready for the marriage ceremony. Rosie was helping me comb through my long hair, which was ten inches below my waist. It had rarely been cut. My biological mother, Nurylon, was fitting me into the dress she had made. They were laughing nervously to relieve tension. Most girls in my situation agreed to the arranged marriage to protect their families from being disgraced. I felt like I was being prepared for a ritual sacrifice—the proverbial lamb dressed and trussed, readied for slaughter.

  Both of my mothers had been involved in arranged marriages and had felt blessed to accept the prophet’s will. An arranged marriage was as natural to these women as the sunrise every morning. To me it felt sickening.

  When I was ready I got into the van with my father. We were driving to the prophet’s home in Salt Lake City for the ceremony.

  After we got to Uncle Roy’s, Merril went in to talk to him while my father, two mothers, and I waited in the van. My father was matter-of-fact when he spoke to me.

  “Carolyn, Merril is a good man, and I want you to know that if you want him to love you and love your children, you should always put his feelings first and find yourself in perfect obedience to him.”

  Children? I had yet to adjust to the idea of marriage or sex, and now he was talking to me about children?

  The shock and horror of the past two days were numbing. It felt like I was being submerged in ice water and every time I came up for air I was pushed down again. Take that, take this, and take that. I was gasping for air.

  The marriage ceremony was performed in the prophet’s office. I was told to stand next to Merril. He took my hand. It was the first time he had ever touched me. The prophet read our vows and we both agreed to a covenant marriage for all eternity.

  I felt my life rushing away from me.

  We sealed our marriage vows with a kiss. Uncle Roy instructed us in the importance of multiplying and replenishing the earth with children as a way of fulfilling our covenant with God. Everything felt serious, nothing felt safe.

  At the end of the ceremony, Merril dropped my hand and walked out of the room without looking back. His family followed him. I didn’t know what to do, so I followed my parents into a large dining room where someone was having a birthday party celebration.

  When Merril and his family arrived, the partygoers realized there had just been a wedding, and everyone began congratulating Merril. I sat quietly on the opposite side of the room. I was in a wedding dress at somebody else’s birthday party while my husband was being congratulated. I knew I didn’t belong to my family anymore. Merril’s family seemed like a foreign country I didn’t want to enter. I felt evicted from everything I had ever known.

  One of Uncle Roy’s more than twelve wives came over to me with a huge smile. She told me how much God must love me to bless me with a man like Merril. She urged me to come to his table and have some birthday cake.

  Merril’s wives Barbara and Ruth were on either side of him. When he saw me he told Ruth to go sit somewhere else. But there weren’t any other empty places, so she left the room. After we finished eating, my father got up to leave. I followed him and went back to the hotel in his van.

  A short while later, Merril arrived at the hotel and knocked on the door of my father’s room. He chatted with my father as he gathered up my things. He picked up my suitcase and a box that contained my shoes. I was in a complete panic. As he walked out of the room, I could feel the eyes of everyone else saying, Aren’t you going to go with him?

  Silently, I screamed, No.

  Merril turned and looked at me. “Carolyn, are you coming? This stuff is kind of heavy.” It was the most he had ever said to me.

  I must have looked like a miserable wreck standing there in my wedding dress. All I could think of was that my life was really over as I followed him into the hallway.

  Merril had forgotten where our room was. I lagged behind him as we walked up and down the halls of the Comfort Inn.

  Eventually, we stopped in front of a room, and when Merril put the key in the door it opened.

  We were alone for the first time. He put my suitcase down along with the box filled with my shoes. He sat on the bed and turned on the TV. I moved to a corner in the room, sat at a small table, and said nothing. After twenty minutes, he said he was going to check on the rest of the family and left the room.

  I got into bed. It had been two days since my father told me about my impending marriage. I had barely slept in those forty-eight hours and I was crushed with exhaustion. When Merril returned a few hours later, he turned on the TV and turned up the volume.

  “It would be nice if we talked a little bit to each other,” he said.

  I told him I was extremely tired and just wanted to sleep.

  “That’s okay,” he said.

  He turned off the lights, took off his clothes except for his long underwear, and got into bed with me.

  He sat in the bed and stared at me.

  I was paralyzed. We didn’t even know each other. There was no way I was going to consummate the marriage.

  But I didn’t have that choice.

  He started kissing me. I felt gross. Nothing could be worse. Then he put his hands down the front of my nightgown and began to rub my breasts. His hands were cool and clammy. I had never been that close to a man before and certainly not without my clothes.

  I acted as repulsed as I felt, which seemed to feed something in him. He removed my nightgown and underwear and shifted his body on top of mine. I felt even more powerless than I had when my father told me I must marry.

  Merril spread my legs apart but could not get an erection. I felt angry, humiliated, and embarrassed. Should I fight him? I began to try to free myself, and after a few minutes he released his hold on me.

  I scrambled out of the bed, confused and disoriented, and found my clothes on the other side of the room. I was shaking so hard I couldn’t get dressed. I felt myself gasping for breath. I sat on the floor by the foot of the bed. I felt so unsafe.

  Merril got dressed and sat on the edge of the bed, saying that he felt it was important to be respectful of a lady’s feelings, but in reality he was covering up his own inadequacies.

  I said I was tired and wanted to sleep. He didn’t seem to care; he just stretched out on the bed and moments later began to snore. I got back into bed and st
ared at the ceiling until I finally fell asleep.

  When I awakened in the morning, Merril was in the shower. He dressed and left the room without saying a word.

  As soon as he was gone, I showered and dressed. I was about to leave and find my father’s family when Merril returned.

  “Come with me,” he said. I picked up my luggage and followed him to his van. He moved some things around so there would be a place for my bags. I felt panicked.

  We went to breakfast at a place nearby. Merril introduced me to some men there as his new wife. They were happy and excited for Merril. I felt like a complete object. One of the men made some lame joke that compared a new wife to a dog. Merril laughed and said dogs were better because they were more loyal. He made another joke comparing marriage to a bath. “Once you get into it, it’s not so hot.” The other men laughed. I had never felt so degraded.

  After breakfast, we gathered outside in the parking lot. My father started talking to Merril about going to an auction in Oregon. Merril sent the rest of his family home. There was no talk of a honeymoon. We got in his van and headed to Oregon.

  I kept thinking about my missing my finals.

  Newlywed

  Traveling was a relief because I didn’t have to talk to Merril. My father, his wife Rosie, and my father’s business partner were traveling with us to the auction in Oregon, which we reached two days later. Merril didn’t speak to me in the van. It was business as usual for him. But for me, everything had changed.

  The shock from the night before was still too much for me to absorb. I didn’t understand anything about sex and had never thought it could be as crude and brutal as it had been. I did think a man should be sensitive to a woman’s feelings and that Merril didn’t have a right to touch me if I didn’t want to be touched. I was so naive, I thought he should at least have asked me before he tried anything on our wedding night. He knew how sexually inexperienced I was, but clearly that didn’t matter to him.