Away From the Dark (The Light #2)(4)
The stacks of cloth diapers filling the bins below the only changing table in the room caught my attention. “There are plenty of diapers.” As soon as I spoke I realized my error. Priscilla might be a female, but questioning Father Gabriel’s decree was unacceptable. “Perhaps”—I looked down to the calmer child in my arms. Simply the act of holding him and swaying my body back and forth had settled his cries. I lifted my cheeks in a weary smile—“perhaps Tobias will be fine until his mother arrives.”
Priscilla took a deep breath and pushed strands of hair away from her face. “Thank you, Sister. Sometimes I wonder . . .”
This time tears fell from her eyes.
I reached for another baby and tucked one in the crook of each arm. Sitting on one of the two rocking chairs, I smiled as the babies’ eyes closed. “You can talk to me, Priscilla. It isn’t questioning to ask another woman. What do you wonder?”
For the next thirty minutes I rocked the small humans in my arms as Priscilla fluttered around the room taking care of the other babies. She spoke about her studies and answered my questions. She also confessed her uneasiness with some of the ways in which her life had changed since she and her husband joined The Light as fully committed followers.
Though I couldn’t admit it, I envied her perspective. She could compare life in the dark to life in The Light. My accident nearly nine months ago had taken that from me.
Priscilla never voiced disappointment in their choice, only a sense of disillusionment. I asked all the right questions: Did she love The Light? Did she want to follow Father Gabriel? Did she believe in his word? Did she love her husband and trust him with their life decisions?
These conversations had been going on long enough in Priscilla’s transition that I knew I should tell not only Jacob but also Elizabeth. As new-follower coordinators, Elizabeth and her husband, Brother Luke, knew what to do. When lingering signs of doubt occurred, there was a prescribed course of action.
The last question I voiced—Did she love her husband and trust him with their life decisions?—caused a faint flicker of shame. I hadn’t trusted Jacob with the decision to stop my birth control. I’d done it on my own.
Maybe that was the cause of my new uneasiness. I felt guilty. After all, with each hour it seemed as though I continued to amass new transgressions that I would eventually need to confess to my husband.
By the time I left the day care and made my way to our apartment, my head and heart were heavy. Though I didn’t want to experience correction at Jacob’s hands, I longed for the peace that came with giving my concerns and infractions over to him. If only he’d come home tonight, but he wouldn’t. He was with Father Gabriel at another campus. I think he’d said the Eastern Light.
Priscilla’s talk of the dark had me wondering about the image of the clock. I didn’t know whether the image was real or whether it was something that had been planted by a benign conversation with one of my sisters. If there were more childhood memories, I couldn’t retrieve them. Only the classroom with the clock above a green chalkboard, a vision that had now expanded to include an elegantly swirled cursive alphabet separating the board from the clock. The teacher in this image was a mystery, but on the small desk before me was my name carefully scrolled. It wasn’t on the desk, but on a piece of colorful paper. The S was tilted to the right and connected to the a and the r and the a.
Even though I wasn’t trying to remember . . . the images continued to appear behind my eyes, creating a fog that distorted my reality. Our apartment building appeared different—the same as it had been, yet more run-down. No. More basic. Unpainted siding showed the effects of the Alaskan weather. My shoes scuffed the worn boards of the stairs as I made my way up two flights to our apartment.
I shook my head, trying to clear away the uncertainty.
Sighing, I made my way inside and collapsed upon the sofa. Rubbing my temples, I closed my eyes and wished for Jacob.
“Stop it!” I said aloud to no one.
Our empty apartment mocked me.
“I don’t want these thoughts.” My head ached with an uncommon pain behind my eyes. If only I could go to bed and forgo service, but that wasn’t an option. I had to move forward.
My mind swirled with a whirlwind of thoughts; pieces and fragments unable to create a complete image floated about as service concluded and Father Gabriel’s image faded from the screen at the front of the sanctuary.
“Sara, are you not feeling well?” Raquel asked in a whisper.
I forced a smile as I stared at my closest friend. “I think I’m tired, and I miss . . .”
Raquel’s forehead came close to my own. “You miss Brother Jacob. Of course you do. I could ask Benjamin if you could come over for a little while. We could have coffee.”
The mention of her husband’s name reminded me of what I’d done a few days before at the lab, and that I hadn’t had the chance to confess my exploration to my husband. “Thank you. I think I’d like to go home. Maybe I just need a good night’s sleep. I don’t sleep as well when he’s gone.”
“I can’t imagine. From the day Benjamin and I were married, I’ve never had to sleep alone.”
“Were you married in the dark?”
Raquel’s eyes grew wide as she peered from side to side. “Sara!” Her voice was a hushed whisper. “We’re in the temple, surrounded by the chosen.” She lowered her tone even more. “Not the place to discuss such things.”