When he lifted his head, Mr. Cassidy changed the conversation to the wild men and the atrocities they were known for. He warned us all that sinners became wild men - and women - and would be doomed to wander the Earth for eternity, never knowing the grace of God. The land above was now the Devil's domain, and to set foot on it was to risk our very souls.
I listened, trying to relax my eyelids. Hopefully, that would ease the pain in my eyes. The flickering was beyond annoying. If someone would just tap the long bulb, it would probably stop, but I wasn't about to offer. Women didn't climb. We cooked, wove cloth, sewed our husband's clothing or wounds, and had babies. Lots and lots of babies. Evidently, that was our sole purpose in life. If I could produce one a year, I'd be pampered and treasured in the community, for God had told us to be fruitful and multiply.
I hated math.
After nearly an hour, Mr. Cassidy finally released us. Unlike the younger children, I made sure not to hurry out of the room. First, I gathered my skirts, letting Callah slip out unnoticed. Then I rose slowly, straightening them around my body so my ankles were properly covered. When Mr. Cassidy headed towards Meri, I allowed myself to glide into the stone hall, stepping lightly. Women were expected to be gentle. We should be seen and not heard. We should do our best to appeal to men at all times.
Nineteen years old, and I had reached the age where thinking was highly discouraged. My feet moved towards the darkness at the end of the hall, and then I turned right. There, just past our hall, was Callah. Like the true friend she was, she'd waited for me.
"Hey," I said, slipping into the shadows beside her. "Mr. Cassidy is talking to Meri."
"Probably giving her some words of wisdom to keep with her since she no longer has to attend classes with us," Callah said. Then she licked her lips, glancing up the hall towards our classroom. "Ayla, do you think they'll put another girl in our room once she's married?"
"No," I said, shaking my head to make the point. "I think they'll wait until you're married before moving a new batch of ten-year-olds in there."
"I hope so," she said softly. "I don't want to have little kids sharing a room with me when you're gone too."
"They keep us in the same year," I assured her. "As close together in age as possible to make reassigning rooms easier. I heard Ms. Lawton talking about it."
Callah just nodded her head, making it clear she'd heard me. "But what am I going to do when you get married?"
"It's not for months and months," I reminded her. "Then I have a week after that to pick."
"And those months are going to fly by," she hissed, finally snapping her head over to look at me. "The whole year is! Once I turn twenty..."
"I know," I promised. "But girls our age only have limited choices. Maybe all the men you're suited for will find other girls?"
"And then what?" she pressed.
All I could do was shrug. "Callah, I don't know. Both of our mothers were in quarantine when we were born, and that makes it harder."
"Meri's so lucky," she grumbled.
"If you can call any marriage lucky," I countered. "I mean, she barely knows Gideon!"
"But he smiled at her back when he was in school with us."
"Five years ago," I said. "She was barely fifteen then. None of us knew to smile back."
"He still remembered," Callah said. "That's why he sought her out last month. He said he's decided she'll be his wife." That made my friend smile. "Can you imagine a man being so decisive about it?"
Unfortunately, I could. I remembered how my father had talked about my mother before she'd died. I'd heard the whispers about Callah's parents. I knew exactly what it meant when a man decided he would marry a woman, because while we might get the right to choose, we didn't get the right to say no.
We had to wait for a proposal. A man with enough power could tell our other potential suitors not to bother. If only one man asked, then we had no choice. That was how my mother had been married. Back when I'd been a girl, and still allowed to visit her, she'd whispered to me that it wasn't a choice. It was a threat.
Those words had stuck with me.
Then again, my mother had been in quarantine for so long. Her mind hadn't been right, they'd said. My father worried I'd inherited her sickness. It seemed some children had, but we weren't told about such things.
Because when the Devil took the minds of the Righteous, the only solution was quarantine. The children born to those women - and it was always women - were moved into the children's halls as young as possible. Right now, we had girls as young as three on our wing.
I'd been allowed to stay with my mother until I turned six. That had been when she became pregnant with her next child. A long break like that would've caused rumors among the wives normally, but with the Devil in control of her mind, it wasn't fair to expect my father to deal with it. Her madness had all but forced him away.
Never mind the dozens of children my father had with his earlier wives. Twenty-three, so far. That was why my marriage options were limited. Too many of the younger men were related to me in some way. Since the elders in the compound were expected to never be without a wife, the men who ran our community all had so many children that matches were getting harder and harder to make.
"There she is!" Callah finally gasped.
I turned to see Meri walking up the hall, headed our way with a soft smile on her lips. When she got closer, she gestured for the three of us to huddle close.
"Mr. Cassidy said Gideon already announced that I'd accepted his proposal," she explained. "But, because of his wounds, we will have a few extra days before the ceremony. So I'm staying in our room for another whole week!"
"Yes!" Callah breathed, sounding honestly relieved.
"We'll make the most of it," I promised.
"No," Meri told me, tipping her head up the hall, towards the darkness. "You're going to go read your books, Ayla. We're going to change and clean the room for you. In exchange, I want a good story tonight."
"What kind of story?" I asked.
"I dunno," Meri said. "One with a woman, though."
I nodded, thinking about it. "Okay, a story about a woman. I'll find a good one."
"But don't be late for dinner," Callah reminded me. "We can't hide that."
"Promise," I said, clasping her arm. "Thanks, you two. I know I'm not supposed to be reading this stuff, but - "
"But those stories are better than the ones we're allowed to tell," Meri pointed out. "They give us something to hope for. And this week, I think I'm going to need a lot of hope."
