More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
All these things she has seen before, but only as background to her life’s duties. Now she begins to understand that trees and birds and clouds and animals have a significance of their own that is independent of human activity.
Mary notices that whatever food is available, the men and women usually share with everyone, even their captives. She finds this strange, for she has always thought it a law of nature that a hungry man or woman will hoard food in a starving time.
“I am trying to persuade you to surrender to your new situation. There is much happiness to be found in acceptance.”
Hunger masters the strongest warrior once it makes its home among the people.
Free. Mary blinks up at her through the blurring tears. She does not feel at all free. She feels as a bird must, one which has escaped its coop and flown away, only to be caught in a net, its wings clipped. She feels double-caged, having both found and lost a world.
It seems that her tears will not stop. Maria tries her best to console Mary, and Increase offers a prayer, but it is Joseph who finally stills her. He says her name in a stern voice, puts his hand on her shoulder, and prays that the Lord will give her strength to control her weak and womanly sobs.
Why does she suddenly feel more like a slave now than she did all those weeks in captivity?
The women’s expressions are greedy, stimulated, almost lustful. Suddenly, Mary understands that they do not want the truth. They want to hear details that will confirm their misconceptions, that will validate their fears. For a moment, she is angry.
Love. She is required to love, honor, and obey her husband. But what does such love mean? It is not desire; it is not affection. It is simply one more duty.
She looks at her dirt-caked toes. “How does the comfort of my feet bring shame on you, husband?” she asks, though she knows the answer—bare feet and uncovered legs are signs of a whorish nature.
She knows—as she always has—that a woman’s reputation is easily lost on the slimmest of suspicions and, once lost, impossible to regain.
She becomes abruptly aware of how her clothes restrict her and promote her submission.
Mary takes a moment to find words for her thoughts. “I wonder if we can be so certain of God’s purposes. Is it not possible that God also counts the Indians as His children?”
Joss, perched on a stool with his face turned to the floor, leaps suddenly to his feet and blurts, “Not everything is a sign from God. Some events just happen.”
“Nay, I’ll not have you blaspheme,” Joseph chides darkly. “Is it not a sort of blasphemy to avow that God is always chastising or rewarding His people?” Joss asks. “Might not some things be beyond our knowing?”
The truth that she confesses only to herself is that she has experienced an unexpected freedom in her husband’s absence. As the days pass, she falls into a contented acceptance of her widowed state.
Mary knows she cannot enjoy her single condition for long without rousing the concern of her neighbors. In Connecticut Colony, as in Massachusetts Bay, it is the law that every man, woman, and child must live in a well-ordered household, ruled by a man.
Is it possible for a woman to marry for love? Could it be that a shared sense of humor is more important than wifely obedience?
“The English used you.” He pauses. “As they used me. We are alike in that.” He gives her a smile that she cannot interpret. “Perhaps it is a mercy. Those they do not use, they kill. We have both bought our redemption at a terrible price. You had to forge a lie.
