Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [108]
There were no dissenters among us to dispute Naomi’s claims. We all robotically absorbed her words. To those assembled that day, her testimony dictated that our prophet had intended to continue his work through his son. While some of us silently hoped that Uncle Fred would take over instead of Warren, Fred, the man who had held the bishopship of the twin cities for so many decades, remained eerily silent. From that day forward, the people of the FLDS would look unwaveringly to Warren Jeffs as the prophet.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
REFUGE IN CANADA
Perfect obedience produces perfect faith.
—FLDS PARABLE
In the confusion after Rulon’s death, many people came down from the community in Canada to pay their respects to him. This meant there were lots of vehicles making the return trip, and I was hoping to catch a ride to Bountiful in one.
I’d already been feeling hopeless about my marriage after the ill-fated first year anniversary, but our move to the trailer around my sixteenth birthday the previous summer had only made things worse. Becoming sixteen had been a turning point for me in some ways. It had enabled me to get a job on the books and a valid driver’s license. Although I had access to a vehicle and like most FLDS teens had been driving in the Crik since I was fourteen, the license afforded me a new sense of security. I no longer had to worry every time I saw an out-of-town police car, and I could now legally drive in St. George, away from the scrutiny of home. Allen was working regularly for Reliance Electric, installing light fixtures, and had a second vehicle, the brown Ford Ranger that he let me use.
Being legally allowed to work enabled me to earn a more significant income. Along with my jobs as an aide for the disabled infant and dressmaker, I had agreed to work under another woman in the FLDS as a direct seller for Saladmaster. I went door-to-door selling pots and pans and also prepared meals for families in their homes as a way to demonstrate the products. I’d always been good in the kitchen, and this was a new way for me to use my culinary skills. This work became quite lucrative for a girl my age, and I was earning a lot more than I was turning over to Allen each week. In the FLDS, a woman is expected to hand over her entire paycheck to her husband, and he is to handle all of the finances and provide for her. It frustrated Allen that I wasn’t following those rules, and it only added to the strain of the marriage, even though I was giving him enough money for the use of his truck.
What Allen didn’t know was that some of my reasons for not turning over more money were that I was anxious to make sure my family members were provided for. I felt responsible for them. Mom had to go to Uncle Fred when she needed money for shoes, fabric, or other necessities for her and my younger sisters, but she felt uncomfortable because she always had to produce convincing reasons for the things she needed. She was also too proud to ask for assistance, and it felt as though she held a lower status in Uncle Fred’s home than many of the other wives, although it was never spoken aloud.
In addition to the responsibility to my mother and little sisters, I also felt compelled to help Caleb, who was still living with the Barlows in Hurricane but was basically on his own. He’d started eighth grade at Hurricane Middle School and had joined the football team. I would sneak down whenever I could to watch his games and take him to dinner. Understandably, Caleb seemed to be hurt about being abruptly left at the Barlows’ by our parents. I did my best to make sure he knew he still had family that cared, but as hard as I tried, I could not alleviate his pain. I could see that it was so difficult for Caleb to know that his biological mother and father were just thirty minutes up the road and they weren’t taking care of him. No matter what I did, my presence in his life would never make up for being without his parents.
As if all this weren’t enough, I was also keeping an