Saints (46 page)

John Kirkham was even more annoying when he was being clever than when he was being humble. Perhaps because he really
was
clever.

“My dear child,” John Kirkham said, “you’ve been brooding about something for weeks. Charlie’s commented on it. Anna’s commented on it. You don’t say much, but you can’t hide it from your family.”

I do not need to have the three of you prying at me, too.

“I, for one, do not really care what your dilemma is. I only want to put in a word of advice. Whatever it is you want to do but are afraid of doing—do it.”

Dinah stopped walking and looked at him in disgust. “You don’t know what you’re saying, Father.”

“I’m saying, my darling daughter Dinah, not to let fear stop you from anything. Not fear of pain, not fear of shame, not fear of God.”

“Yes,” Dinah said brutally, “you’re famous for living that advice.”

“I live with the consequences of what I did.”

“And so do we all.”

“You’ve all done rather well, I think. But what I could not have lived with, what none of us could have borne, are the consequences if I had not done it. What if I had stayed, out of duty, out of fear? I already hated my work. I already hated myself. I was beginning to hate your mother for daring to love me and need me. How long before I hated
you
? And what would you children be today if you had grown up with a father who filled your lives with hatred?”

“I would hate myself more,” Dinah said, “if I did it.” She wondered why she even bothered to answer his indecent philosophy.

“At least
I
hate myself for what I did, instead of for what I never dared to do.”

“I don’t mean to hate myself or anyone else at all.”

“What a liar you are, Dinah. Hate comes off you like snakeskin wherever you go these days. Little empty Dinah corpses all over Nauvoo, pretending to be alive. Why don’t you just figure out what it is you want to do and do it?”

“I think, sir, that I shall walk alone now,” Dinah said.

“And a pleasant afternoon to you, too, madam.” John tipped his hat, smiled, and let her walk away.

She did not get far. Coming down Mulholland Street from Temple Hill was a carriage that even the children of Nauvoo could recognize by now. Mud splashed up from the horses’ hoofs and sprayed out from the wheels, but people still stepped closer, to tip their hats or wave and call, “Good day, Brother Joseph!”

Dinah saw the carriage coming to cross her path and waited. Like any other Saint, Dinah felt the excitement of the Prophet’s coming. He was the heart of Nauvoo, and the beat of his horses’ hoofs was the city’s pulse. Dinah was keenly aware of the fact that he would pass and not see her; she told herself that she was glad of it. In fact, though, she hoped he would happen to glance her way, hoped that he would see her face and be stopped in his thoughts, wonder about her, even, perhaps, hope for her.

What do I
want
? asked Dinah. But it was her father’s question, and so she refused to answer it.

Could it be true that God sanctions it? asked Dinah. But it was Hyrum’s question, and so she tried to avoid it, too.

And yet in the asking she heard the answer; she wanted so badly for it to be true that she dared not trust her own belief in it. She had loved Joseph Smith from the moment she first heard of him from Heber Kimball, had belonged to him from the flesh inward since that night she prayed in her bedroom and discovered the light within her. Yet still she was afraid that it was not her conscience but her loneliness that cried out “yes” within her when she saw the Prophet’s carriage. How could I accept him as my husband when I want him so? If only I hated him, then I could say yes and live this law as a sacrifice, suffering constantly so I could be sure I did not do it for pleasure. Only that way could I justify myself.

The carriage turned at the corner where Dinah waited, to head south on Main, but to her surprise it came to a stop. The Prophet himself swung open a door and leaned out to her. “Sister Dinah, will you ride with us?”

It surprised her how easily the word
yes
came to her lips.

The Prophet jumped from the carriage and helped her step up. There were two other men in the carriage. The one she recognized was William Law, one of Joseph’s Counselors. The other was a stranger in a clerical collar.

“Reverend Hake, this is Sister Dinah Handy. Sister Dinah, Reverend Hake here’s a visitor from Boston. He wanted a chance to speak to an ordinary Saint. I told him there’s no such thing as an ordinary Saint, but he insisted.”

This was not at all what Dinah was ready for. An emotional confrontation with Joseph, yes—but to have to be civil to a stranger, a visiting minister, no less, that was too much to expect of her, the way she felt right now. Still, she would do as well as she could. “I suppose I’m as ordinary as they come,” she said.

“But her speech,” said Hake. “She sounds English.”

“She is,” said Joseph. “She was baptized in Manchester and came here only a few months ago.”

“Remarkable,” said Hake. “And she seems a woman of breeding.”

“If you think well of the Mormon women,” Joseph said, “you should see the Mormon horses.”

Reverend Hake raised his eyebrows in horror, but Dinah laughed aloud. Horses, yes, Hake had been talking about Dinah in front of her exactly the way men discussed their riding animals. “I assure you,” said Hake, “that I am making no such comparison. A good woman is the noblest creation of God.”

“And Sister Dinah is one of the noblest,” said Joseph. “She holds no office in the Church, but I doubt there’s many offices Sister Dinah wouldn’t be fit to hold.”

Hake looked surprised. “Do you ordain women, then?”

Joseph only smiled. “And what would you think if we did, Reverend Hake?”

“I would think your priesthood a trivial thing if you devolve it upon the fairer sex, for whom God intends light burdens.”

Dinah was annoyed beyond her ability to remain silent. “I can see that you’ve never been a woman, Reverend Hake.”

“I am well acquainted with the ladies of the Church in Boston.”

“They’re quite lovely, I imagine,” Dinah said. “They go calling and have teas. Well, God didn’t create them. Money created them. God made the women you see here, and any other place where death is one bad harvest or one child-bearing or one sudden illness away.”

Joseph raised an eyebrow at her, and Reverend Hake tried to pass it off as a joke. “You can’t tell
me
you aren’t a lady, Miss Dinah.”

“After I lay the morning fire and help my mother get breakfast, Reverend Hake, I sew. All day, every day, I remake old shirts into new ones and sell them. I make a few dollars a week that way, enough to buy some of the food we eat, some of the firewood that keeps us warm in this cold. I work hours every day, and when I fall behind, as I’m doing right now, I feel it within days, because I get hungry. I’m no lady, Reverend Hake, because I know that the labor of my hands puts the food in my belly.”

She could see on his face that he now agreed with her—no lady would say a word like
belly
. “Is it Mormonism that makes a woman like this?” Hake said, retreating to his former habit of talking
about
rather than
to
her.

“I’m proud to say it is,” said Joseph.

“Well, sir, I say that it’s against nature. God wants women to be treated better than this poor soul. After all, they
are
the weaker sex.”

Joseph leaned close to Hake. “Reverend, I don’t know three women in Nauvoo who wouldn’t be a match for you in a fair fight, except they wouldn’t be so unsporting as to take on such a measly specimen as yourself.”

Hake stiffened. “I didn’t come here to be insulted.”

“No, you came to insult
us
. But we’re generous—we try to give back even more than we’re given.”

“I don’t understand your attitude, Mr. Smith. I have friends in the press in Boston. What I report will be printed widely.”

“And what will you report? That when a man marries in Nauvoo he gets a helpmate instead of an ornament?” Then, suddenly Joseph’s voice changed. The smile didn’t leave his face, but there came something powerful in his eyes, and Dinah found herself as transfixed by him as Hake was. For a moment, Joseph spoke like a prophet, and Dinah felt within herself an answering light. “Report this,” Joseph said. “That when you looked into the faces of the people of Nauvoo, the spirit of God smiled back at you from every face. Because that’s the truth.”

In the face of Joseph’s power, Hake’s voice was weak, even though he tried to sound defiant. “I am perfectly capable of discerning the truth for myself.”

As Joseph leaned over and warmly shook the minister’s hand, his tone changed again; now he was charming and likeable. “We’ll have the water ready by nightfall. You’re a man who can discern the truth, and we’re bound to baptize you within a day.”

Hake could not help himself. Joseph was too much for him. He smiled and returned Joseph’s handshake as warmly, saying, “As God is my witness, President Smith, I can’t decide if you have the Spirit of God or the most devilish case of self-love I’ve ever seen.”

“If God was your witness, Reverend Hake, you’d be able to tell the difference. Will you have supper with me and my wife and a few friends tonight?”

“Do you promise I won’t be abused?”

“If you behave yourself, I’ll be angelic, too. Open your eyes and see what’s here instead of what you want to see, and then we’ll treat you as a friend, because you’ll be one. Isn’t that fair?”

Hake was beaten. And as Dinah watched Joseph battle with the man, things became clear to her. Joseph had two kinds of power, and used them both willy-nilly. Now and then when he spoke it was with a power beyond a mere man, it stirred Dinah’s inward fire; but most of the time, he was merely elusive, baffling the other man, beating him down with contradiction and charm. Even without the help of God, Joseph Smith would have been a dangerous man, nearly irresistible to those who hadn’t the strength to be in his presence and remember who they were. For a few moments Dinah had been able to see both aspects of the man, and the difference between them. And she knew that it was not enough to decide whether to commit herself to this man or not. He could swallow her up in days, without even knowing what he was doing; like so many of the men who surrounded the Prophet, Dinah could easily become just another pair of hands for him, just another voice, so much under his control that without him she would not know who she was. Surely that could not be what God had in mind for her.

The carriage pulled up in front of Joseph’s house. The Prophet swung open the door. “I’ll expect you for supper, Reverend Hake. Brother William will show you around the rest of our city.”

“But where are you going?” asked Hake. He sounded dismayed at the thought of being out of Joseph’s presence.

“Why, Sister Dinah and I are going to discuss the school she’s establishing.”

Hake looked triumphant. “I was sure you were more than a mere seamstress!”

Dinah smiled sweetly back at him. “But you, sir, are exactly what you seem.” She let Joseph help her from the carriage. As she expected, Hake did not understand that she had insulted him.

“Good day, President Smith,” Hake called cheerily. “Till supper!” And the carriage rolled off, leaving Dinah standing with the Prophet in the road.

Joseph grinned at her. “Do you think we were too hard on him?”

“When a man insists on being an ass,” Dinah said, “it’s only polite to ride him as far as he wants to go.”

“Are you ready to give up your needle and earn your living with your mind?”

“I’ll teach your school, President Smith.”

He impulsively shook her hand. “I knew you’d come round!”

“How far do you think I’ve come about, President Smith?”

He raised an eyebrow and gripped her hand tighter. “I think you’ve come all the way the Lord wants you to.”

“If I were to agree to
all
that you asked me, do you know why I would do it, President Smith? It wouldn’t be because you arranged for Charlie’s loan. It wouldn’t be because you found work for my father as a painter. And it most definitely wouldn’t be because I have the slightest desire for you as a man.”

He let go of her hand. “How much more pleasant for us all, then,” he said, “since I haven’t got the slightest desire for you, either.”

“If I accepted you, it would be from pure obedience to the Lord.”

“When I first learned this doctrine, I put off obeying it as long as I could. I delayed for years. And then an angel of the Lord appeared to me, holding a fiery sword in his hand, and said, ‘Either obey the Lord in this, or be destroyed.’ So I obey the Lord. I go to the women he has given to me, and I put my life in their hands. Do you want to kill me, Dinah? Go tell my enemies what I proposed to you. They’ll believe you. They’ll use it against me. They’ll put me in prison, if they can—and I promise you, if I ever go inside a jail again, I’ll not come out alive.”

“I have no intention of telling anyone.”

“Not even Emma?”

Dinah shrank inside. “Doesn’t she know?”

“She knows the principle of celestial marriage. But she believes I won’t practice it without her consent. She forgot that I’m bound to obey the Lord more than her.”

Joseph regarded her with his prophetic eyes, and she felt again the light within her grow. You are, after all, what I left my children for, she said to him silently. But I will come to you as a sacrifice, not for joy. “I am also bound to obey the Lord,” she said. “So I will accept you.” She could see him brighten inside, could see how his smile grew truer. Wait, you who would be my celestial husband, and hear this all. “However, Brother Joseph, since we are both agreed that neither of us is acting out of physical desire, we have no need whatever to consummate our marriage in the flesh.”

Still smiling, Joseph said, “This would all be easier if the Lord would only give me stupid ugly women. The marriage is not to be a sham, Sister Dinah. We are commanded to raise up a righteous posterity.”

“I already have two children, Brother Joseph. I did not come to Nauvoo to get
more
.” The anger in her voice surprised her. She forced herself to be calm. “It’s as you said. They’ll be taken from an unworthy husband and given to a worthy one. In the eyes of God, we already have a posterity. And they are a
good
posterity.”