Tempt him to sinful circumstance.
Never does she change her way,
Never does she kneel to pray!
Soon she into sin will fall,
And then be hanging on the Wall.
Aunt Vidala’s tales were about things girls shouldn’t do and the horrifying things that would happen to them if they did. I realize now that the tales were not very good poetry, and even at the time I didn’t like hearing about these poor girls who made mistakes and were severely punished or even killed; but nevertheless I was thrilled to be able to read anything at all.
One day I was reading the Tirzah story out loud to Becka so she could correct any mistakes I was making when she said, “That would never happen to me.”
“What wouldn’t?” I said.
“I would never lead any Guardians on like that. I would never catch their eyes. I don’t want to look at them,” said Becka. “Any men. They’re horrible. Including the Gilead kind of God.”
“Becka!” I said. “Why are you saying that? What do you mean, the Gilead kind?”
“They want God to be only one thing,” she said. “They leave things out. It says in the Bible we’re in God’s image, male and female both. You’ll see, when the Aunts let you read it.”
“Don’t say such things, Becka,” I said. “Aunt Vidala—she’d think it was heresy.”
“I can say them to you, Agnes,” she said. “I’d trust you with my life.”
“Don’t,” I said. “I’m not a good person, not like you.”
* * *
—
In my second month at Ardua Hall, Shunammite paid me a visit. I met her in the Schlafly Café. She was wearing the blue dress of an official Wife.
“Agnes!” she cried, holding out both hands. “I’m so happy to see you! Are you all right?”
“Of course I’m all right,” I said. “I’m Aunt Victoria now. Would you like some mint tea?”
“It’s just that Paula implied that maybe you’d gone…that there was something wrong—”
“That I’m a lunatic,” I said, smiling. I’d noted that Shunammite was referring to Paula as a familiar friend. Shu
nammite now outranked her, which must have irked Paula considerably—to have such a young girl promoted above her. “I know she thinks that. And by the way, I should congratulate you on your marriage.”
“You’re not mad at me?” she said, reverting to our schoolgirl tone.
“Why would I be ‘mad at’ you, as you say?”
“Well, I stole your husband.” Is that what she thought? That she’d won a competition? How could I deny this without insulting Commander Judd?
“I received a call to higher service,” I said as primly as I could.
She giggled. “Did you really? Well, I received a call to a lower one. I have four Marthas! I wish you could see my house!”
“I’m sure it’s lovely,” I said.
“But you really are all right?” Her anxiety on my behalf may have been partly genuine. “Doesn’t this place wear you down? It’s so bleak.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “I wish you every happiness.”