Stolen Innocence - Lisa Pulitzer [73]
We’d traveled nearly 140 miles when a sign announced our arrival in Caliente, Nevada. I had no reaction. I just understood. It was like arriving in hell; my fate awaited me in this dust bowl whose name fittingly translates to “hot” in English.
The Hot Springs Motel was a seedy structure tucked into the side of a patchy, grass-and-dirt hill on Nevada State Road 93, hugging the highway just as it wound into Caliente. My heart sank as I surveyed the old white stucco building, with its garish green metal roof and a small sign that read OFFICE. Allen and his parents had been talking about how some of the rooms had hot tubs. Normally, a luxury like that would have piqued my interest, but today it was the farthest thing from my mind. I couldn’t believe that they could be enjoying pleasant small talk while I was about to experience the most catastrophic event in my life. Slowly, I exited the car and awaited instruction. I had heard that some of Merrill Jessop’s wives worked at the motel and stayed there full-time, but that day Merrill had sent one of his sons just to make sure that everything ran smoothly. We weren’t to stay long; it seemed that they wanted us to get in and get out.
Some FLDS people came out to greet the prophet and our caravan. We were told to change clothes for the ceremonies in one of the motel rooms on the second floor. Instinct told me to run, but where? I stood frozen, not even realizing that Lily was right next to me, gathering me up to follow her and the other women inside. She knew I was suffering. Although she was only a few months older than I was, she possessed a composure I couldn’t muster under the circumstances. While Lily didn’t hate her husband-to-be like I hated mine, she, too, seemed to have second thoughts. Still, she had the physical and emotional resolve to guide me up the stairs alongside her. Holding my wedding dress with shaky hands, I looked into the whitewashed room and was repulsed. This was never how I’d imagined the scene of my wedding.
Tossing my things onto the bed with the ugly, multicolored bedspread, I burst into tears. Lily pulled me into a hug and promised that everything would be okay. She and another of my stepsisters helped get me into my wedding dress and put me together.
“You know, girls, I really can’t do this,” I announced, as Lily pinned the dainty silver tiara Kassandra had given me in my hair. I’d always imagined that my wedding day would be magical, and I would be wearing a crown just like the princesses of the fairy tales I’d read as a child, but as Lily affixed the tiara to my hair, I felt nothing like a princess about to live happily ever after. “I can’t go through with this,” I uttered, tempted to rip the tiara from my head.
Nancy was disgusted with my continued disrespect. “I can’t believe that you’re turning down the prophet and defying God’s will in your life. I just can’t believe you’re not being obedient,” she said to me.
For a moment her words took me aback and made me think, “You know, she’s right.” I was defying what they told me to do, but I was also tired of her criticism.
“Just because I care about my life doesn’t mean I’m turning down the prophet,” I replied coldly.
“Okay, I’ll tell them that,” she shot back over her shoulder before marching out of the room and down the stairs.
Lily and I exchanged looks and tried to comfort each other. In an attempt to make me laugh, she said, “There’s a back door. We could just, like, run.”
For that brief moment, we sat suspended in thought, each wondering if we could really pull off an escape.
“Well,” she said reluctantly, “we better get down there. They’re waiting for us.”
Standing in the doorway,