Chapter Two
Bellamy (Belle)
D arkness, something that most people only welcomed if they were sleeping, but I invited it. To me, the darkness made me feel safe, unwatched, and provided moments of peace and tranquility. There were no eyes on me, nobody studying my tall curvy frame, or looking upon me as if their sinful thoughts alone would send us both straight into the fires of hell. There were no judgements in the darkness, no so-called guidance, and no fear in people’s eyes. I was safe to experience the sinful thoughts and dreams that sneaked into my psyche, but nobody would ever know what kind of dark thoughts invaded my mind. Men wanted to see me as the darling child of innocence, a girl untouched and saving herself for God’s soldier when he came to earth, but they saw me as a test. They all wanted me, all the men in our community. I could see it in their eyes when they looked upon me. They were sinners, but I was an angel sent to earth to tempt the most faithful of men. An angel that had sinful desires I had to work very hard to control. I could see the lust in men’s eyes, and I was not the only one that saw it. The thing was, they didn’t know me. They didn’t know that I had dreams and also desires. They mistook my quietness as shyness, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. I was studying them, learning what I could about them, and not wasting a moment of my time or intelligence engaging with them. I was smarter than I should have been, and prettier than what was acceptable, but it was my curiosity that was my weakness, but my beauty was theirs.
My name is Bellamy Theresa Ann Ashford, an anomaly, and also the daughter of Reverend Henry Ashford and the youngest of his many wives. Some said he was a man of God, while others said he was the leader of a religious cult. I was his prized possession, the only daughter he gripped on to long enough to come into womanhood and not have been made a child bride. I was sent to my papa as an angel from God. My beauty at the moment of my birth came as a sign from our almighty father, and it had been my papa’s mission to protect me from sin ever since I took my first breath. I had forty seven siblings, making my oldest living half-brother seventy four, and my oldest living half-sister seventy two years old. She was married off to a church elder when she was only fourteen, and she had grandchildren older than me. My mama was still considered young to the outside world at the age of thirty seven, but she was given to my father at thirteen years old. She would have another marriage after my father and bring more children into the world. When people outside of our community learned Sister Eloise was in fact my older biological half-sister, their minds instantly went to math just to figure out how old my father was when I was born. My Papa was dying at ninety five years old, making him seventy two when I was born, and I was his youngest and most adored child. The only child he made with my mother. He was always a wonderful papa. He never denied me of anything. When he learned Koty was sneaking books to me, he homeschooled me. When he learned I was self-teaching certain subjects, like child development, he allowed me an education. I was the only female in our ancestry to have graduated high school, let alone earn a bachelor’s and master’s degrees through an online program and allowed me to take some courses at the local community college. The rest were all online. He implemented a homeschooling policy for the young ladies in our community and I taught them. Most left public school once they learned to read and write, but my papa saw and acknowledged our need to actually comprehend what we were reading, like the Bible for instance. For the first time in our history, the young ladies in our community had their own Bible study. He would be known as the most progressive bishop in our ancestry. Although he was a good father, my brother and I suspected he was not the best of men. My child development studies told me as much.
Darkness faded as the sun rose. It was time to start a new day, and it was barely dawn. I rose from my bed, wearing my white cotton long sleeve nightgown that buttoned all the way up to my neck. I did not dress like the women I saw outside of our community. I dreamed of being able to express myself through fashion someday, along with many other freedoms that intrigued me. The style given to the women of our community was one of decades ago, but my looks were far different than the looks of my family. We wore baggy dresses, our hair was styled the same, and no woman ever really stood out until I was born. There was nothing typical about me, which brought me more grief than anything else. Even more than the headaches I suffered from almost every single day.
I did not appear as the daughter of sister Abigail, or brother Henry. My mama’s light blond hair was not passed on to me. My papa’s once raven hair was also not passed down to me. As I stood in front of the bathroom mirror, I was reminded of how different I was than my entire family. The reason my papa believed wholeheartedly that I was to be the bride of our almighty father’s angelic soldier peered back at me through the mirror. My dark copper hair flowed down my back in thick natural waves. My cornflower blue eyes might have been too large for my delicate nose in my opinion, and they also did not match both of my parent’s onyx brown eyes. My skin was fair, my lips were full, and my nose seemed too delicate to have been handed down from my father’s more bulbous nose and my mother’s larger bumpy nose. My stature exceeded what would be expected for my family. At five foot eleven, I was nine inches taller than my mother and three inches taller than my father when he was a younger man. I had a slim, but curvy frame, where my mother was on the shorter side with small breasts and a large waist. My papa had almost fifty children, and none as tall and slim as me. None had an hourglass figure like mine. My papa said a woman of my beauty was nearly sinful all in its own, and must always stay protected from the natural male instinct to sin against our almighty father. Ancestry was important to us, and when my father’s followers questioned if I was truly my parents child, they tested my genetic genealogy to prove that I did in fact belong to my parents, and I was a match.
My day started off as usual. I washed my face, brushed my hair, then changed into my dress for the day. It was light pink with puffy sleeves and hid my figure quite well. My hair was pulled back into a ponytail with a large bow attached to the top of the hair tie. I did not apply makeup, such things were not welcome in our community, but my somewhat rosy cheeks and long dark lashes might have fooled some into thinking I was wearing it. Women in my community were not to stand out, but I still stood out like a sore thumb.
After dressing for the day, I made my way downstairs and prepared to become the caregiver to our generous prophet, otherwise known as my papa. The old stairs creaked with each step, just as a reminder of the age of that old farmhouse. The very farmhouse where I was born and took my first breaths. It was my mother’s week for my father’s visit, which had been the typical place he stayed for his last few months. He had begun his journey to paradise where he would reap the rewards of a faithful long life. Most of his wives had already passed on, only leaving three to care for him. Being that my life was lived so differently than my siblings, caring for him had become my primary responsibility. I had no husband or children, therefore I was at my papa’s side, helping ease him into his eternity. My students were without a teacher for the time being. For twelve hours per day, I cared for him, while his wives shared the evening shifts. Our days did not change much, he had been in a decline of health for months and we made him comfortable. He chose our home to stay, but each wife had their week with him. Since it was my mother’s week, it was just the three of us during the day, and my mother was with him at night. The next week, it would have been a different wife with him at night, there in my mother’s home.
My first duty of the day was to change him from his wet sheets and diaper. I rolled the sheets and plastic bed protector from under him, gave him a sponge bath from head to toe, dressed the bed in clean linens and put clean clothes on him. In my opinion, no daughter should have had to see her papa’s naked form and washed those more private areas of his body. It was a terrible task, but it had to be done. After he was cleaned, I made our breakfast then prayed with him before I hand fed him. Once he was fed, I ate my own breakfast. After breakfast, I read the Bible to him for the next four hours, only taking breaks to help him use the urinal or clean up after his dirtier bodily functions. After lunch, three of my brothers visited daily and they privately discussed church business with him while I did laundry and cleaned. Well, that was what I was presumed to be doing, but instead, I let my curiosity get the best of me and listened outside the door.
“We observed until we finally spotted her sneak through the woods. He took off and we chased them down. The threats are no longer working on this younger generation. They see a modern world, a false promise of a shiny new life calls to them.” My brother, Paul, informed my papa.
“Did you stop them?” Papa asked.
“Yes, we now have her with Steven. She can’t be trusted to stay with her mother when her husband is at work at night. The boy and his truck took a beating, but I think the young man got the message. He won’t be back.”
I knew who they were speaking of, it was Melinda, the daughter of one of our elders and wife of Franklin Joseph, a much older man. She met a young man from town and vowed to leave. Several years ago, choices were given to the young members of our community, but as the size of the faithful membership began to dwindle my papa had to make some tough choices. Those choices took any hope of freedom I once had away from me. Although I dreamed of a life outside our community, I could never walk away from papa as long as he lived, and I never wanted to lose my mama to a shunning.
“Put us on lockdown.” My papa ordered. His mind was still sound, but speaking was quite difficult.
I shut my eyes as disappointment came over me. Melinda was my friend, and she attempted to sin. Not only was that a betrayal to God, but to her own soul as well. She would burn in the fires of hell if she did not seek forgiveness. At least that’s what my papa said, but I struggled with those beliefs.
“What should be her punishment?” John Henry, my oldest living brother asked. He owned his own business, and my brother Koty worked for him. He was seventy-four and my papa promised a retirement soon.
My father coughed, as if he once again aspirated on his own saliva. My brother’s waited for him to recover, and I once again heard my father’s weak voice. “There is no sin in seeking a faithful life somewhere else. Her intentions must be known, and if she has no reservations in leaving, send her out into the world on her own. There is no fakeness in faith, she must not be here to taint the minds of the other young souls. Forgive her, but do not reward her. She may leave, but she must know the consequences. She cannot return to salvage her soul if she refuses to go north to join our other faithful communities. As I see it, she has already chosen sin when she invited the young man to take possession of her in the middle of the night. Give her one last chance to make the right decision.”
“A choice? Father, I must disagree. She was leaving her husband and children, that puts us all at risk with the law.” My other brother, Koty, said, but I knew his secrets. He was buying time, hoping to change papa’s mind about his future. Faking his loyalty.
My papa took a moment to answer. “She has been in a marriage of God since she was twelve years old. If the love of her God and her family aren’t enough to make her stay, then she must be set free into the world. We will have no descendants if we allow these unfaithful women to raise our children. We cannot let sinful women taint the minds of our young. She has sister wives that are good women that honor their husband and will raise her children according to our laws. If she wants to go north, allow it, but if she wants a life of sin make her disappear into the darkness. She will be shunned, that is the extent of our punishments. We do not have room for further violence against anyone. Separating her from her children is punishment enough, until the fires of hell consume her for an eternity.”
“Violence?” Paul asked. “There is no violence when defending our community and protecting our women from sinners.”
“Who is telling you this, son? Your next prophet? Jeremy is a false prophet, and he is not to marry Bellamy. She is reserved for our father’s plans for her. Our almighty father would never condone violence against those around us that judge our faith. You are being misled, the beast has made his way into our community. Not only will you protect your sister, you will protect the church and its members, faithful or not. Lockdown the community and allow Melinda to be the only lost soul to leave. We cannot risk her taking the children, and I do not want Jeremy hunting her down. You must outsmart Jeremy, he claims to be faithful, and he may have the support of his elders, but I am your prophet, and you will do as I say until our father sends his soldier to claim his bride. There will be no other prophet until that time.” My papa began to sound as if he was exhausted.
Jeremy was not to be trusted. His devilish good looks could easily have charmed our younger members. The man claimed to be our next prophet and refused to take brides until my father passed. Many of the elders trusted him because he was intelligent, but he brought violence into our lives and my brothers started looking toward him for guidance, believing the messages he claimed to have received from our almighty father. Our community had been torn into two groups. Those who still believed in my papa and those who believed Jeremy was the new prophet. He never married and was the oldest of bachelors in our history. He claimed me as his bride when I was seven and he was fourteen. My papa refused him, and the tension between my papa and him had been thick over the years. Jeremy was a sinner, a man that left our community at eighteen to become educated, but took a path of sin. He returned and claimed to be the new prophet, but he was always forgiven by the elders in our community, despite my father’s warnings. Some no longer trusted my papa’s elderly mind. If my brothers continued to lean toward Jeremy’s leadership, I was afraid they would give Jeremy my hand in marriage.
“Bellamy is twenty three years old now. She’s well over the age of marriage. If she was meant to be the wife of our father's soldier, wouldn’t he have taken her by now?” Paul asked.
“No violence, no prophets, and no marriage for Bellamy until her destined husband comes for her. Be patient and he will come and defeat the beast.” My father began to fade, I could hear it in his voice.
I jumped away from the door when I heard footsteps. It wasn’t the first time I was caught eavesdropping, and I was sure it was not the last. Paul’s eyes met mine as I didn’t back away from the door quick enough. I could see the disapproval, but instead of saying anything he walked away with John behind him. Koty called my name from inside the room, and I reluctantly stepped inside.
Koty was my half-brother, and he was also twenty three years old, but three months older than me. He married his first wife two years prior, but had yet to have a child. He mentioned his wife’s age several times as being an issue, and my papa preached to him about the importance of consummating their marriage. He would not be rewarded with a second wife until his first wife was with child. She was already fifteen, and the elders were extremely disappointed in my brother. I did not believe he was attracted to his wife, and many felt the same, bringing shame to the young bride.
“Is this his first nap today?” Koty asked.
“No, he slept while I read to him earlier. He seems to be tired more often over these last few days.”
“I’ve noticed.” Koty drew in a deep breath and looked at our papa. “It’s a shame he has declined hospice care. He has to be in pain.”
Koty was fully aware of why papa could not have hospice care. “He is doing his best to protect the community.” Papa believed our community was looked down upon by the sinners in the outside world. They tried to squash the faith of the most religious, and if we allowed them inside our community they would separate us. The government was filled with the darkness of the beast, and he wanted nothing more than to destroy our faith.
His eyes met mine. “Yet, he allows young mothers to leave with no guidance or support. Nothing could put papa and our brothers at a greater risk.”
He was right, but my opinion was nothing of substance. Women in our community were property, and we did not have voices.
“Let’s allow him some rest.” Koty took me by the arm and led me out of the bedroom. He took a look around, as if my mama wasn’t sleeping or our brothers never left. “I need to talk to you about something, Belle.”
I wrapped my arms around myself, maybe in a way to comfort myself as he spoke in the hallway just outside the room where my papa laid dying. “Okay.” I agreed, reluctantly. Was he going to defy my papa and take me to Jeremy? Was he buying his freedom away from the marriage and religious practices he detested? My brother did not have the strongest faith, but he was my closest friend.
“Do you desire a marriage to Jeremy?” He asked.
“Desire?” I asked. That was a tricky word, desire. It was mainly used as a term for the sins of a woman. A woman with desires was led down a path of sin. I did not welcome that word from my brother, hoping our prophet didn’t know of my secrets. How could I desire a marriage to anyone that was not meant to be mine? It was a word I never spoke out loud, a word that many saw as a sin by anyone with a female form.
Koty leaned against the wall. “I understand I should rephrase. Do you hope for a marriage to Jeremy? Have you prayed for it?”
“Of course not.” I was not meant for just any earthly man, which was a prophecy I barely believed, but wished was true. The man destined for me had a light in his soul because he carried the mark of God. He was born with the soul of God’s mightiest soldier.
“Papa may be wrong about Melinda, but he is not wrong about Jeremy. As soon as papa takes his last breath, Jeremy plans to make you his legal bride. We cannot allow a false prophet to force your hand in marriage. He wants it to be legal, and in front of God. He is going to bring the law of mankind to our community and destroy it. If you do this, all of your brothers will be arrested. They’ve…well they’ve shared a bed with their wives, where I have not.”
I tilted my head in confusion. Of course they shared their beds with their wives.
“It’s unlawful, Belle. They’re minor children in the eyes of the law. You are a teacher, you should understand that their mind and bodies aren’t ready for such things.”
I continued to stare at him in confusion. I always felt the same as my students were taken as wives, but it was just one of many questions I felt would be sinful to ask. I had so many questions that I began to believe would die with me. I craved things that my family wouldn’t understand, and I was both scared and intrigued by the outside world. I wanted to be a part of it someday, but not at the expense of losing my mama and papa.
Koty shook his head. “What we do here is wrong, Belle. It’s against these children’s legal rights and it’s a terrible practice. I was forced into a marriage of faith to a child against my will. That’s why I will not give her a child, because she’s still a child herself. I need to leave, and I want to take you with me. If I can convince papa its best for you, he may give us the money to leave, and we can start somewhere new. Maybe I can go to college, we could still live faithful lives outside of this church, or whatever makes us happy. You can teach in a real school and the opportunities are endless. It doesn’t mean we can’t still believe in God. Jeremy has been waiting since he was fourteen to marry you, and the elders didn’t force him to marry a child like they did me. Papa would not want you to marry Jeremy, and I need to get you somewhere safe. The second papa takes his last breath, Jeremy is coming for you and everything else he believes he’s entitled to take.”
An uneasiness came over me. “Our brothers and the elders will protect me. They know who I’m meant to marry.”
“I know more about this world than you, Belle. I know more about Jeremy and how the real world works. During my quest to find a safe escape plan, I have been given information regarding a group of men that might be able to help us escape.” We both heard the back door open and jumped. The conversation we were having was very risky and the thought of my older brothers hearing it scared me. Koty turned to me and whispered. “Pack a bag and I’ll come for you.”
I knew Koty could escape on his own terms, but taking me was risky. Very risky, and with Jeremy involved it was dangerous.
“Koty?” John yelled out.
“Yeah, I’m coming.” Koty kissed my cheek then walked away. I turned toward the door and opened it, to see my papa peacefully sleeping.
The men inside our faith had jobs outside our community. Many were into real estate, some sold insurance, and it was not unusual for some to have educations. Women on the other hand took care of their husband’s and ran their households. We did not get educations, other than learning how to read and write. Me, on the other hand, well I had a burning curiosity. Koty had been sneaking books to me for years and he knew I had a need for an education. I was faithful, but I also had a few secrets that challenged me on a daily basis.