more. You could only do that so long before you cracked. “Did he know it was me?” she asked. “Could you tell?”
I thought back. “I don’t think so. He’d have mentioned it, you’d think.”
“Yes,” she said. “He would have.”
I went on, because I needed to know, if I was going to help them. “He told me Fruitful was married. She’s seventeen, right?” Then I thought, Tell her, mate. Show her that much respect. I said, “That you’re married, Fruitful.”
Fruitful didn’t answer, but Daisy did. Her voice was measured. Carefully so. “Yes. You’re married soon after you turn sixteen, like I said, as soon as your husband’s revealed.” She made a face. “That is—as soon as the Prophet chooses him. They’d do it earlier if they could. The Prophet teaches that when a girl menstruates, God is saying she’s ready to marry, because she’s ready to bear children. It’s in the Bible, or so he says. That when she’s ripe, she’s ready. They’re afraid of the law, though, so they wait until sixteen.”
Ripe. That was a fairly disgusting concept. “And you don’t get a say in who it is?” I asked. “Surely, even with arranged marriages, you get a say. A chance to spend some time together, see if you suit.”
“No,” Daisy said. “You don’t even look straight at him until after the wedding, when you’re expected to consummate the marriage. As in, right then.”
“Uh … right then?” I had a feeling that I didn’t want to know this.
“Not in front of everybody,” she said. “The men—your father, your uncles—carry the two of you off in a sort of … palanquin, I think you’d call it, in olden times. A cart with handles. Straight after the ceremony, they take you to a special hut made for the purpose. The Joining Hut.”
Obedience said, “The married women decorate it with flowers, so it’s beautiful. It’s a special day, the day you’re joined. You get to wear a pink dress, too, because you’re a bride.”
Daisy ignored that and told me, “You come back to the reception afterwards, once it’s done, for extra humiliating fabulousness. That’s the first time you really look at him, in that hut.”
I had no words for this one. Oddly, the girls didn’t seem embarrassed by this particular revelation. If that had been the drill at every wedding they’d attended, I guessed it would seem normal. I was embarrassed, though. Cringeworthy, I’d call that.
“You don’t get to choose much in Mount Zion,” Daisy said. “Not your occupation, because a woman doesn’t have one, beyond domestic work. Not how much schooling you get, because every woman gets the same. Up to age fifteen, when the law says you can stop. Not your clothes, as you see, or how you spend your time. You’re rotated amongst chore assignments, so I guess you could say that you’re not always on Cleaning Rotation, and that’s a plus. To be fair, boys don’t get to choose much more than that either. But once you’re married, as a woman? You get to choose even less.” She took a breath and adopted a cheerful tone. “So as you can imagine—a good place to see in your rearview mirror, pink dress or no. And, my brother Dorian says, that goes for men as well.” She told her sisters, “You’ll love Dorian, when you meet him again. He’s married now himself, and his wife is lovely. It’s different when you can choose, you’ll see, and you’ve got all these choices ahead of you, starting with names.” She held up the sheet she’d been doodling on. “We were just thinking about names when you came in, Gray. It was a bit funny, actually.”
Fruitful had ignored all of that. Now, she looked straight at me. She was a bit darker than Daisy, and the flush in her cheeks wasn’t so much red as dark honey. She said, “To answer your question—yes. It’s what Chas— uh, Daisy says, and I don’t need her to say it for me. I’m married.”
I asked, “Is that why you left?”
A long, long pause, that for once, Daisy didn’t jump in to fill, and Fruitful said, “It’s one reason.”
I asked, “Are you afraid? Is that what’s wrong? Of what, exactly? Are we in protection mode here? Evasion mode? Are you afraid somebody’ll come after you? You should tell me, if that’s it. I’m a pretty fair protector.”
Fruitful didn’t answer. Daisy said, “We wouldn’t involve you. Of course not. You’ve done enough already. But that’s why we wanted to