Author's note: Thanks for the positive reviews, you guys.
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She had expected the morning of her wedding to feel different, or that she would feel different somehow. But she began to realize as the day went on that it was like any other. They spent the early hours of the day attending Isaac's sermons as they always did, and afterwards Ruth visited Joanna. Abel and Joanna had been wed the day before, and naturally she now lived at Abel's house. Their wedding had been a simple affair, not like her and Malachai's would be - as Isaac's right hand man, he would be greeted into marriage with fanfare. Ruth dreaded it.
Ruth found Joanna sitting on her porch, sewing one of Abel's shirts and looking distracted. "Oh!" She gasped when she saw Ruth approaching and heard her greeting. "Good morning." She couldn't help but notice that Joanna looked pale, and as Ruth sat down beside her, and that she appeared to have pricked herself many times on her needle, and little pinpricks of blood stained the pads of her fingers.
"How is marriage treating you?" Ruth asked, nervously wringing her hands as she sat down beside her. She didn't know if it was rude to ask, but that's what these post-wedding visits were for, to come a calling. It was something sort of tradition for the young girls to do - ask advice from the married girls, how to conceive fast; how to get grass stains from your husband's shirts.
Joanna bristled for a moment, before offering a tight, complacent smile. "Well, I suppose."
She did not believe her for a moment. She leaned closer to Joanna, gently placing her hand over Joanna's own. "You can be truthful to be, Joanna. You know I've always considered you a good friend. I would never repeat anything you confide in me, and I would think the same of you."
Joanna looked at her for a moment, her eyes glassy and odd. She squeezed Ruth's hand and, quietly, began to cry. "I'm just unsure of our partnership. Abel speaks little to me, and I feel like a ghost here. I know I should not question He Who Walks Behind The Rows, but I can't help but think..." Joanna stopped herself, wiping away a salty tear with the palm of her hand. "Just forget my utterances. I'm just being all muddy-headed because this is all happened so fast. I'm a wife now."
Ruth nodded, agreeing with her cries only for the sake of Joanna's own comfort. Joanna looked immediately thankful and fresh color livened up her cheeks. Joanna took back up her needle and began again at Abel's torn shirt. She swallowed back her hiccups and managed to offer Ruth a watery smile. "Thank you for listening. You're a good friend, Ruth. I'm certain you'll have better luck than me."
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Little Mary had gathered wild daisies and was twisting them into a wreath, that she would later place in Ruth's hair. Across from her Ruth sat on her bed, working on combing out the tangles from her freshly washed hair. She was wearing a simple blue dress, though she had intended to wear her old white one. When Ruth had put it on, she found that it had grown far too small (or rather, she had grown too big) and it now reached high above her knees, mid-night. She had chuckled inwardly to herself at the idea of her turning up to the ceremonies in it, the outrage.
When she had taken the dress off, changing to the blue, she had thought about how much she'd grown. Ruth wondered if growing up had something to do with that feeling she sometimes got - the strange stirring the tickled the inside of her stomach. Almost as if there was a sparrow trapped inside her, fluttering.
Ruth looked at the little white dress sitting on her bed, and it reminded her of her mother for some reason. She could only remember few, very vivid details about the woman - like how her laugh was almost musical, like the twinkling of bells. Ruth can remember being young enough to comfortably sit in her lap, how she smelled like crisp apples. Ruth had trouble remembering the good days of the adults without thinking of That Night, and all of the awful memories that came with it. The memory of looking out her window, only a small child, and seeing her neighbor's house being swallowed by flames. At the same time she heard loud, pained shrieks. Where are my parents? She thought, frantically. She ran to her front door and found that it was already open, torn out by the hinges. She stood on her front porch and looked at the chaos around her, the smell of smoke stinging her nostrils. The older kids were walking down the street, holding knives, Molotov cocktails and what other weapons they had stolen from their sheds or kitchen. The sound of hissing flame and broken glass followed them.
She did not like to think of That Night. She did not like to think about the adults.
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"You look lovely." Mary said, faintly touching Ruth's hair as they both looked at her reflection. Mary had put plaits in her hair and placed the wreath on her head, like a heavenly crown. Ruth thanked her and clasped Mary's hand, squeezing it tightly for a moment. Mary had plaited her own hair as well, and it sat on her shoulders in two perfect, twin blonde braids. "Do you feel ready for marriage?" Mary asked, her eyes bright and excited as she leaned close to Ruth.
Looking at her, Ruth considered lying. This would be Mary's future, too - an arranged marriage by Isaac. And there was nothing that Ruth could do to change that. But today was Ruth's wedding day. Today, Ruth was tirelessly trying to figure out her own emotions - trying to understand the complexities of her own burgeoning heart. She would not lie today. Certainly not to Little Mary, who she had watched grow up and may as well have been her birth sister.
"No, I'm not."
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Children were lined up in neat rows in the church pews, all of them were dressed neatly. Not many of them had neat clothes, and most of them were wearing the same outfits from the day before, when they had attended Joanna and Abel's wedding. The younger children looked tired, sick of all of the wedding fuss that had occurred these past few days. Isaac stood behind the podium, his dark eyes full of understated excitement. Corn husk dolls made by the younger children sat in the corners of the room, crinkling against the floor as a breeze carried into room. Ruth and Malachai stood in the center, and were made to clasp hands.
Isaac stared at them, finishing reading the Bible verse. "Don't urge me to leave you or to turn back from you. Where you go, I will go and where you stay I will stay. Your people will be my people and your God my God. Where you die I will die, and there I will be buried. May the Lord deal with me, be it ever so severely, if anything but death separates you and me."
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The ceremony was over with and, simple as that, they were married. Everyone threw flower petals and Isaac pulled Malachai aside to give him his words of blessing. Ruth went to Mary and kissed her wet cheek. They would no longer share a household for the first time since Mary was very small. Ruth didn't know if she could take such a loss. Mary, as if reading the doubts on her face, hugged her tightly and said her good wishes. "Good luck."
It would soon be her wedding night, and she would need it. Ruth thanked Mary and sent her off to play with the rest of the children. She could not tell if she still felt like one of them, the children. She watched them toss around the corn dolls with a certain detachment. She was a wife now, she thought. Malachai came up behind her and watched them play, too, for a moment. Nahum was in the group, laughing and running. Ruth knew that Nahum was Malachai's duty, just as Mary had been hers.
"Are you alright?" He asked her. He had been closer to her than she thought, and when he spoke his breath tickled her neck and sent shivers into the deep of her. She nodded, unsurely. He held out his hand for her to take, and she looked at it expectantly for a moment. She knew where they were supposed to be going. To his home, to eat dinner and engage in conversation. And then, to the dreaded marriage bed where they would consummate the marriage and validate it in the eyes of Him.
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.The corn waited, watched. .
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