Exile: The Book of Ever

Prologue: Ever Oaks' Diary

First Entry, 19 Month of Gold

It's two weeks since they breached the walls, and my hands still shake when I think about it. I think deep down I'm glad to be leaving. Bountiful doesn't feel safe anymore—if it ever did. The High Council says the Marmacks will return, and in force.

I never thought of Sainthood as burdensome. Who am I to judge the gift that God has given me? I've always tried to do my duty, to be like the Savior, to help and love and heal my brothers and sisters as I know He would want. But with the journey to the North looming over us, I find myself scared, truly scared for the first time since my parents were killed. Even more so, maybe, because then I was too young to really know what was happening. Now it's all I can do to keep focused on the present. Every minute of the day it's a struggle to not obsess over all the possible outcomes, all the dangers that lie ahead of us.

We're traveling into the Desolation, and I am afraid.

Elder Hales says the journey will be difficult, and that the snows will likely come before we reach the heart of the Maine. The Women's Society have helped prepare our expedition in such a short time; it was hard work they insisted on doing themselves, leaving those of us who would be going to take care of other things. Most of our supplies have been inventoried and packed. There's a small mountain of dry goods, clothing, medical supplies, and camping gear stacked neatly in Storehouse Three, waiting to be loaded onto the packhorses.

Horses are dear in Bountiful; it was a great sacrifice for the community to spare any at all. There was no question of making the trip on horseback. Not only does Bountiful need the animals more than we do, the roads are ancient and hazardous and filled with the rusting hulks of the motorized carriages the Old People used. We will likely be forced to walk at some point in any case, so it's no great loss. The packhorses will at least lighten our load.

Erlan seems nervous about me leaving, now that we've come down to it, though he won't admit it. I wish I could say that he was nervous about losing me, but I'm not sure it's me he's worried about so much as the future he expects for himself. I wish I could say that I'll miss him, even so, but the truth is I don't know. How am I supposed to feel, I wonder? We leave in three days, and I'm no closer to understanding what he expects of me, let alone who he is inside. We might have known each other since childhood, but for all intents and purposes we're getting to know each other for the first time.

The advice my Sisters have for me is well-meant, I suppose, but it isn't helpful. Bishop Royce began the ordinance of marriage but told us there wouldn't be time to seal our union in the temple until I return in the Spring. The marriage won't be complete until then. So I'm half a wife, and my husband is half a stranger.

Erlan accepted the Bishop's decision obediently, as always, and seems to think it was just unfortunate timing. The sealing ritual takes time to prepare, and so on—better not to rush such an important event. I think Bishop Royce knew exactly what he was doing, but I can't tell Erlan that. Since we were joined he's gotten more and more touchy, as if it's strange to him that I'm still the same person.

It makes sense, from a tactical perspective, as Elder Betenson would say: if we're not sealed, we're not really married yet, and there's no chance of me getting pregnant. It was difficult enough to convince the Elders' Council that I'm capable of making this journey as I am. If I were with child the matter would have been decided for me. But the fact that Erlan and I have been joined in the ordinance, and our union begun—our "betrothal confirmed," as Bishop Royce put it—means that I can travel in the company of unmarried men without a chaperone.

Some of the girls I know presume I was disappointed—disappointed by an incomplete marriage and by having to leave my husband so soon. They don't seem to remember that I chose this. They've all conveniently forgotten that I was the one who went into the Bishop's chambers and told him I had to go. Their mothers see me as some kind of paragon of feminine courage, but the daughters think only of the fact that I won't be able to make a home for my husband.

I didn't correct them. I let the ones who wanted to believe that I was a victim believe it. There was no point in trying to convince them otherwise. Some of them—Cambree Betenson, for one—told me to pray to Heavenly Father for patience and help.

The truth is I'm relieved to be going. For all of his selfish anxiety, I think some part of Erlan is too. We share a bedroom now, if not a bed, but there is a space between us wider than Marvel Sound.

I always wake first, in the morning, and I look at Erlan and wonder what my future holds, and if it is truly meant to be tied to his.

Second Entry, 21 Month of Gold

Tonight our Society held a Thanksgiving dinner for us, since we will miss it, and we all stuffed ourselves on turkey and sweet potatoes and herbed stuffing. Bishop Royce blessed us, Elder Bingham, Elder Higbee, Elder Belnap, and myself, and tasked the Elders to keep a watchful eye over their "faithful sister." Then he shook their hands, and when he came to me he took my hands in his and said quietly that despite the danger I must realize that it was the Divine Will that had chosen me for this journey, and that my light and love must hold our little group together. He said it just like that, my light and love. For a moment all of my trepidation was gone and I squeezed his hands and felt like there was hope, and that we would all come back safely.

After dinner I walked home with Erlan. Our cabin is on the Northeastern edge of Bountiful, near where the forest sweeps down to the ocean and you can see over the wall. On clear winter nights you can see the water through the trees from our little garden, sparkling between the bare branches like it's winking at you. I know because the Bishop assigned us to the cabin I grew up in. It had been empty since they died, because it was smaller than some of the other open cabins and it needed some work, and when I asked the Bishop gave it to us. Erlan let me choose.

When we got inside Erlan poked the fire back to life and sat in his chair and began his nightly prayers. I waited for a few minutes to see if he would talk to me, but when he didn't I went out back and looked through the trees for the water. The sky was cloudy, though, and all I could see was darkness. I sat on the pine log bench my father built so many years ago, wrapped in the woolen shawl Cambree knitted for me as a wedding present, and wondered why I couldn't cry. No tears would come, even when I tried to force them. After a while I heard the back door creak and Erlan came out. He didn't sit down, but put a hand on my shoulder gently. I looked up at him.

"I'll wait for you, Ever," he said. "If God wills that we be sealed,then we'll be sealed." The way he said my name it sounded like he was saying I'll wait for you ever, like I'll wait for you forever, but I knew that's not what he meant. 

I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of the novel!  I will be posting new chapters three times a week, starting Thursday, January 27th!  Comments and votes are ALWAYS appreciated.