Lilah
“Child. Go play with Micah in the back room. I have business to discuss with Brother Luke.”
I nodded my head, dutifully obeying my father, and skipped down the hallway, twirling my long blue skirt as I did so. It was hot outside, but as a child, I had to wear the long blue dress of pure, modest women. I loved my dress. It made me feel pretty.
Humming a graceful melody to myself, I became distracted. Just as I was about to pass the washroom on my left, the door opened. I immediately stopped humming, immediately stopped twirling my skirt, and lowered my head in dutiful obedience.
I heard familiar footsteps thud slowly on the wooden floor and, keeping my eyes downcast, witnessed scuffed black boots halt in front of me. A panicked breath slipped through my lips and my hands began to shake. I could feel my heart beating wildly in my throat, and I bit down on my tongue. Prophet David preached that girls were not to act gleefully; they had to show restraint from sinful behavior, to display a discipline from all pleasure, at all times. I knew immediately I had failed the prophet with my dancing, humming, and enjoyment of the day. But worse, I had been caught.
Noticing a raised hand from the corner of my eye, I braced for the inevitable strike; they occurred frequently. But the blow did not come. Instead, the hand gently slipped off my obligatory white headdress, freed my blond locks, and ran its fingers through my long hair, caressing me. Then a rough thumb ran over my lips.
“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Rapunzel,” the deep voice resonated in a singsong melody as the hand repeatedly stroked my hair, my face, over and over and over. “Such beauty in one so young.” The deep voice was strained, sounding almost… painful?
Of course, I instantly recognized the voice of Brother Luke. He was one of the elders of The Order. One of Prophet David’s most trusted disciples. He led the commune in which we resided.
Lately, my father had started to work with Brother Luke, what seemed to me to be a great deal. My father was a writer, an artist, the most amazing of storytellers, and now my father was helping Prophet David write down his direct revelations from the Lord, for all of Prophet David’s people to read and follow. Together, my father and Prophet David were creating a book dedicated to The Order’s holy cause, our very own bible, one that contained the final, the undistorted, and the infallible word of God.
It was a true honor to record the Lord’s revealed and most holy words. My father had insisted that because this great honor had been bestowed upon him, all his sons and daughters must be a living example to the other families in the commune. We were to be the perfect followers of Prophet David. Therefore, we must never ever submit to impure or sinful ways.
I strived every day to be the daughter my father could be proud of.
Brother Luke’s fingers left my hair and, suddenly, he crouched before me. Those same fingers drifted slowly down my cheek and stopped under my chin. My eyes, for but a moment, drifted toward his eyes, which blazed with something I could not really decipher. I immediately cast my gaze downward. Brother Luke had beheld me as my brother, Peter, looked upon a chocolate treat.
“Raise your pretty blue eyes, my little Rapunzel.”
Brother Luke always called me his “little Rapunzel.” I had no idea who or what a Rapunzel was, but every time he said it, it did seem to excite him. His voice would lower in tone and his chest would always pant. Brother Luke made me feel very, very uneasy. My stomach always swirled when he was around, but I supposed it was because he was such a special man. It was the Lord identifying him to me as his apostle.
“Do as I say, my little Rapunzel. Lift that head so I can gaze upon your beautiful face, those sparkling eyes.”
I could not be sure if this might be a test, so I kept my head down, demonstrating my lowliness as a girl toward this elder of The Order.
Brother Luke leaned forward, and I could feel his hot breath swoosh up my hair. Holding my breath, I slowly raised my head. Brother Luke’s long beard tickled my cheek when he smiled. He smiled so big at me, so big that I could see all his teeth. Then he sighed.
“Ah, there she is. The young beauty with long golden hair.” His head tilted to the side. “Tell me, child, how old are you now?”
“S-six, sir. I am six.”
His brown eyes flared; his tongue peeked out and licked along his lips. “You are almost at the magical age, my child. The magical age where we all get to share in your beauty. The day the Lord will call you into his embrace, the warm embrace of his eternal love. That most glorious of days.”
My eyebrows arrowed down with question. “Magical day, sir? I do not know of this,” I whispered.
Brother Luke smiled at me; he planted his hands on the tops of my arms, his thumbs running up and down my chest. I did not like this feeling and I flinched with every stroke, squeezing my eyes shut in response.
Brother Luke placed his lips at my ear. “Yes, child. The day you fully give yourself to the Lord. Prophet David will reveal the exact day to us soon, through the revelation of the Lord, but it will not be long now… and I do hope I am the brother to introduce you into the celestial love of God. It is something I think of often… You are so very beautiful.”
“Brother Luke!”
Snapping my eyes open, I whipped my head around to look behind me. There was my father at the end of the hallway, an angry look upon his face.
“Brother Isaiah,” Brother Luke responded curtly and stood up. Once again, he was towering over me. He kept looking down at me, almost as if pulling himself from a trance. An angered red flush spread along his cheeks and he tipped his head to the sky.
Brother Luke began to move his lips as he worded a prayer to the Lord. I caught the end of his prayer and held my breath when I heard my name.
“I am thankful that you pulled me from the lure of this child. I was tempted by her lovely face. By the innate seduction shining from within her big blue eyes…”
Brother Luke finally bowed his head and rubbed his eyes. With a deep sigh, he glanced briefly at my father. Then he looked my way. “Your beauty is exceptional, child. It makes me suspicious. You are tempting, my little Rapunzel… almost too tempting.”
“Brother Luke, leave my daughter alone.” My father’s voice was hard, unyielding. It was his angry voice, the one he would use on my brothers and sisters… even to my many mothers upon occasion. I felt intense fear for my father that he was speaking in such a way to one of our leaders.
“Rest easy, Brother Isaiah. Rapunzel and I were simply strengthening our acquaintance. Come, let us leave and talk business. Prophet David has more suggestions for our book and also for our children’s literature. He has today received a new revelation, one that will bring our people much closer to the Lord’s holy love.”
My attention flicked back and forth between my father and Brother Luke. My father had not yet answered Brother Luke, and they were glowering at each other in silence. Eventually, Brother Luke walked forward, brushing past my father.
Nervously, my father came to me and bent down. He pressed his warm hands on my cheeks and his eyes seemed to soften with sadness. “Daughter,” he whispered. “You must go in the back room with young Micah. Do not come out until I tell you, understand?”
“I understand, Father,” I replied, still feeling the sensation of fear in my stomach.
Father sighed. “You are too beautiful, daughter. My heart worries that the devil is within you. That you are a cu—Argh! I cannot bring myself to speak the word. I do not want to admit that you may be one of them.”
I sucked in a shocked breath.
One of whom?
Abruptly, Father stood up. “Your trial will be in remaining pure. I am praying God will not forsake you. Let us all pray that you do not become a fallen sister.”
I gulped in trepidation. A fallen. I knew that word: a woman who has dealings with the devil.
“Go to Micah. Now.”
Ducking my head in dutiful obedience, I scurried down the wooden hallway, each step in sync with my po
unding heart. I burst into the bedroom at the end. Micah, my friend, was sitting in the middle of the room, filling in one of his coloring books.
He turned head his toward me and smiled. “Greetings, Sister.”
I made my way to Micah and sat beside him, immediately looking down at what he was coloring in.
I gasped in shock.
Micah looked at me and frowned.
“What are you coloring, Micah?” I said, checking the bedroom door was closed. The pictures were sinful. Rude. Forbidden.
Micah laid a hand on my shoulder. “Be calm, sister. I am attending Celestial School now. The prophet’s disciples have been educating me on The Order’s new scripture. Of our new duties as the Lord’s chosen people. Of how to embrace God’s love.”
Leaning down, I studied the black-and-white outline of the scene in Micah’s book. It was a young boy touching a girl… in her forbidden place. They were both smiling. The young girl’s mouth was dropped open and her eyes were tightly closed.
I jumped as I felt Micah’s hand slowly lift up the long skirt of my dress, and I slapped away his hand. “What are you doing?” I said in fear, ripping my gaze from the book.
Micah’s lips pursed together to form a tight line. “We have been taught at school how we should begin to touch others… of how we should begin to touch girls. The Lord wants us to grow close to Him through our shared love… through our bodies. Through touching each other’s forbidden places. It is supposed to feel very good. Prophet David has ordered us to do this.”
Micah suddenly jumped on top of me and held me to the ground by my arms, straddling my waist, a cool draft of air informing me my dress had risen to my thighs, exposing my modesty. Micah was nine years old and much stronger than me. I tried to fight him off but failed. His mouth suddenly smashed against my lips and his tongue invaded my mouth; it was wet and sloppy, and I hated it. I quickly turned my head and tears formed in my eyes.
“Micah, please!” I whispered. “What are you doing? You are scaring me.”
“Relax, sister, I see my father doing this with lots of women and, since the prophet’s new revelation, with young girls. They look like they enjoy it; some are not much older than you. It brings us all closer to the Lord. You have seen the pictures in my coloring book. Prophet David wants us to be closer to each other, for closeness brings a unity to the Lord. And you are so beautiful… so tempting. I want to touch you like the boy touches the girl in the picture. My stomach and below feel all funny when I see you. I cannot stop watching you. I think about you all the time, even in my dreams. All the boys at school talk of you.”
“Micah!”
A loud, angry voice blared from the doorway. In an instant, Micah and I froze. Heavy feet stomped in the room and standing above us were my father and Brother Luke.
Brother Luke picked Micah up by the collar of his tunic, and Micah began to scream. Brother Luke slapped him across the face. Micah quieted, blubbering quietly to himself.
“You insolent child! She has not yet been approved for the Lord’s Sharing by the prophet! Do you know what this means? You will be punished! I must report you to the prophet’s aid. It is God’s will! You stupid, stupid boy! You must practice self-control!”
Fixing the long skirt of my dress and ignoring Brother Luke’s reprimand of Micah, I got to my feet on shaky legs. I ran to my father for comfort. But as I approached, he held out his arm, a frighteningly cold expression on his face.
I stopped dead.
“F-Father?” I whispered.
He just stared at me. And stared. And stared. Fear washed over me. Was it horror I saw or… disgust?
“I told you I sensed Satan living within her, Isaiah. She is a temptress to us all. Her looks are… sinful. Those blue eyes, that long blond hair. Tell me, has she tempted even you?” Brother Luke’s voice was quiet… no, accusatory.
My father dropped his head and a tear fell from his cheek. “Yes. She has tempted me. I have… I have sinned with her, Brother Luke… I have done things… in moments of weakness. I—” My father broke down in tears.
My brow furrowed. What things? My father had always been kinder to me than my siblings. I was his favorite. He often came into my room and slept beside me, always embraced me and showed me his love. But why was this wrong?
“Prophet David has strict rules for females like her, Isaiah. His counsel must be sought. In one hour alone, she has tempted both me and my son onto the path of evil, to taking her carnally without the prophet declaring it was time to do so. We should surely have all been punished because of… her if common sense had not intervened. She is the devil’s work. I can sense him living in her flesh. You know I have a keen ability to spot when and where evil lurks.”
My father’s shoulders stiffened. “But—”
Brother Luke glanced meaningfully at my father, cutting him off, as he recited these chilling words. “When tempted, no one should say, ‘God is tempting me.’ For God cannot be tempted by evil, nor does he tempt anyone; but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. Then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death.”
My father’s head dipped slowly down and he exhaled sharply. “James 1:13-18.”
Stepping forward, I pulled on the hem of my father’s long white tunic. “Father, what did I do wrong? Why are you reciting such scripture?”
There was no embrace from him, no sympathy, just a glacial stare as he knocked away my hand. It hurt and I immediately cradled it to my chest.
Bending down, he stared me full in the eyes and he drew the sign of the cross on my forehead, his face flushed red as he cried, “I cast thou out, Satan! Your temptation shall not flourish here in the Lord’s Eden on Earth. I have sinned enough because of you! I renounce you as my daughter. You are not of my flesh, nor my blood. Spawn of Beelzebub, you are the living embodiment of sin!”
My eyes widened, my breathing slowed, and I began to shake uncontrollably on hearing my father’s words.
I was… born of the devil?
Lord… please… please… help me!
*****
“Get in there and do not dare to come out!”
I nodded my head in obedience, moved away from Brother Luke, and, trembling, walked to the small bed in my room.
My father and Brother Luke had dragged me home without a word of discussion and brought me to this room. I was terrified. They were treating me as though I had sinned, but I did not understand what I had done.
Slumping on the bed, I pulled my long skirt over my bent knees and sobbed.
I do not know how long I had been in my room, staring at the ceiling. I could hear doors opening and closing, the low timbre of male voices talking in the parlor, female cries coming from adjoining bedrooms. Through the thick walls, I could not hear clearly what was being said.
More time passed, the voices faded, and the house grew silent. Night came, as did darkness in its wake, lit only by the moon, its narrow silver rays piercing a single small window on the north wall.
As I lay on the bed, exhausted and confused, I started when the doorknob to my bedroom began to turn. Holding my breath, wondering who would enter, I exhaled a relieved breath when Phebe, my sister, snuck through.
“Sister?” she whispered and tiptoed silently to my bed. I sat up instantly and smiled. I loved my sister. She was my best friend, older by a few years; we had different mothers—my father had many wives—but shared the same devout personality.
When Phebe’s eyes connected with mine, she froze. An anxious look washed over her pretty face and she tucked her vibrant red hair behind her ears. She was dressed in a long white nightgown and her hair flowed free. Night was the only time our hair was permitted to be out of our headdresses.
“Phebe? What is happening?” I asked, dread again swirling in my stomach.
Phebe glanced toward the door before inching closer. “Father…” She paused, then took a deep breath.
“Father said you are no longer my sister.”
Feeling as though a blade had been stabbed through my heart, I scrambled back on the bed in shock.
Phebe watched my reaction and tears filled her eyes. “Sister…” she said on a pained sigh.
“W-why? W-what have I done?” I asked, a cascade of tears flowing down my cheeks.
Phebe cautiously sat on the end of my bed and studied my face. I could see her inquisitive blue eyes searching for something and a sudden look of relief softened her tight features. “I do not see it.”
I frowned. “See… see what?”
“The devil in you.”
I cupped my hand over my mouth to mute a sob and I shook my head. A hand lay on my shoulder, and I looked up to see my sister gazing at me in sorrow.
“I am not the devil, Phebe. You have to believe me!”
Pulling on my hand, Phebe cradled me in her arms, rocking me back and forth. “It is your beauty, Sister. You are very tempting, just like Eve was to Adam. Just like Eve, you bewitch men to do your bidding; they cannot force themselves away from your allurement. The elders… and Father,”—I stiffened on hearing these words—“they believe that like Eve, you are swayed by the devil, or even…” Phebe trailed off.
I looked up at her sorrowful face and swallowed hard.
“Even what?” I enquired nervously.
Phebe held me tighter. “That the devil is within you. That the devil controls you… that you are his pawn, tempting men to sin against the Lord and their flesh.”
My head shook back and forth. “No, no, no… Phebe!”
Phebe’s hands gripped my damp cheeks. “You must be strong and obedient, sister. Any trial or test they put in your path, you must pass it. You must strive to be good. If evil is in your flesh, you must fight it. If men fall at your feet, do not succumb to their charms.” Phebe’s hands tightened around my face, her eyes focused on my eyes. “They will be taking you away. I overheard Father talking with Brother Luke a few hours ago. A very important man is coming to pick you up first thing in the morning. He is taking you from the family to test your faith. He is one of Prophet David’s closest confidents.”