The Chosen One - Carol Lynch Williams Page 0,34

to the kitchen and brings out my plate. She sets it before me.

“Thank you,” I say, but she doesn’t answer.

There’s a chicken leg and a chicken wing on the flowered plate. The pile of mashed potatoes is the size of a fifty-cent piece. The ear of corn is missing so many kernels I know it should go to the pigs and not me.

I try to catch Aunt Melissa’s stare. I want to say to her, “I don’t want to do this any more than you want me to,” but I can’t.

She goes to the kitchen and comes back again with a platter full of bread.

“I have the place where we’ll stay,” Uncle Hyrum says as Aunt Melissa fills the table with food. Uncle Hyrum’s house is huge and roomy. And he has a piano, too.

He reaches for my hand, but I move away. Still he grabs me, his grip tight. I make a fist. My stomach clenches.

“We’ll be wed in just a few weeks.”

I want to say, “Joshua’s going to change this. He’s going to make it right.” I want to scream, “I’ll never marry you.” I want to stand up and run fast as I can away from here, from him. Instead, I stare at the bones in his hand. Black hair grows from the knuckles. Does Father have black hair like that?

I keep my mouth shut. Maybe my mouth is the same almost-line that Aunt Melissa’s is. Maybe we are all-the-sudden twins.

“Soon, Kyra,” Uncle Hyrum says, “you’ll be a part of this eternal family. And we’ll live together in glory forever.”

Aunt Melissa puts out a pitcher of milk. Then she stands back, staring off over the top of my head. She’s old and her face is wrinkled. I used to think she was nice. Before tonight, I mean.

“Let us pray,” Uncle Hyrum says. It’s just the three of us in the room.

Joshua, I think. Joshua.

_________

AFTER DINNER, Uncle Hyrum says he’ll walk me home.

“I can go alone,” I say. “It’s not that far.”

“Kyra,” he says. His voice is sharp.

His house is beautiful. The kitchen has five refrigerators. The granite countertops gleam. There are windows everywhere. The house is silent, though I know people must be here. Where is everyone?

We walk past a living room that has pale green carpet in it. A huge fireplace takes up one wall.

“This is how an Apostle lives,” Uncle Hyrum says. “God does bless the righteous. And those who are saved and chosen for them.”

I say nothing.

Out the door we go. It’s late evening, and the sky is heavy with low clouds. Uncle Hyrum turns and points to a bay window on the second floor. “That’s our wedding room, Kyra,” he says and tries to take my hand again.

“Oh,” I say. I quicken my step, avoiding him, and head toward home.

“Take it slow,” Uncle Hyrum says. “We have plenty of time.” He grabs my arm, links us together.

I fight the urge to run screaming all the way to my family. I can’t see the world around me, I feel so sick. I trip once, and Uncle Hyrum keeps me from falling flat on my face. “A little klutzy, are you? Well, it’s a good thing I’m here.”

He clears his throat. “There’s no need to be scared of me, Kyra. I’m a good husband. I’ll keep real good care of you. You’ll have the nicest things.”

“Okay,” I say. My heart feels like it’s trying to escape.

“Good.” In the light of the Temple, I see Uncle Hyrum smile. There must be something good about him. There must. Look how Aunt Melissa seems to love him.

“I take real excellent care of my wives,” Uncle Hyrum says when we get to my front porch. He pulls me close to him. His arms are like steel rods. “I’m gentle with the new ones.”

“What are you doing?” I say. Fear rises right up my throat.

“No use in fighting me, Kyra,” Uncle Hyrum says, breathing potato breath on me. “No matter what, I’ll get my way.”

I struggle. His arms tighten. He’s a head taller than me. And much too close. This is not a thing what it feels like when Joshua holds me near.

“It’s God’s law that I have you.”

“No,” I say. “Mother! Not now. Not yet.”

“Kiss me good night.”

“No!” I push hard against Uncle Hyrum.

Then Father is there.

“You’re not married to her yet, Hyrum,” he says and reaches his hand to me.

My uncle releases his hold, straightens his shirt. “Fighting won’t do anything but make it worse. Fighting won’t do