“I’m not sure,” said Nils. “I’ve heard some very odd stories about it though. It was founded about twenty years ago by Arnold Grafton. He brought his little flock of followers out here to establish the new Jerusalem. They’re very strict and narrow. Don’t argue with them and no levity or lewdness. No breaking of God’s laws of which they say they have all. When they ran out of Biblical ones, they received a lot more from Grafton to fill in where God forgot.”
“But,” I was troubled, “aren’t they Christians?”
“They say so.” I helped Nils lift the keg. “Except they believe they have to conform to all the Old Testament laws, supplemented by all those that Grafton has dictated. Then, if they obey enough of them well enough after a lifetime of struggle, Christ welcomes them into a heaven of no laws. Every law they succeed in keeping on earth, they will be exempted from keeping for all of eternity. So the stricter observance here, the greater freedom there. Imagine what their heaven must be-teetotaler here-rigidly chaste here-never kill here-never steal here-just save up for the promised Grand Release!”
“And Mr. Grafton had enough followers of that doctrine to found a town?” I asked, a little stunned.
“A whole town,” said Nits, “into which we will not be admitted. There is a campground outside the place where we will be tolerated for the night if they decide we won’t contaminate the area.”
At noon we stopped just after topping out at Millman’s Pass. The horses, lathered and breathing heavily, and poor dragged-along Molly, drooped grateful heads in the shadows of the aspen and pines.
I busied myself with the chuck box and was startled to see the girl sliding out of the wagon where we had bedded her down for the trip. She clung to the side of the wagon and winced as her feet landed on the gravelly hillside. She looked very young and slender and lost in the fullness of my nightgown, but her eyes weren’t quite so sunken and her mouth was tinged with color.
I smiled at her. “That gown is sort of long for mountain climbing. Tonight I’ll try to get to my other clothes and see if I can find something, I think my old blue skirt-” I stopped because she very obviously wasn’t understanding a word I was saying. I took a fold of the gown she wore and said, “Gown.”
She looked down at the crumpled white muslin and then at me but said nothing.
I put a piece of bread into her hands and said, “Bread.” She put the bread down carefully on the plate where I had stacked the other slices for dinner and said nothing. Then she glanced around, looked at me and, turning, walked briskly into the thick underbrush, her elbows high to hold the extra length of gown up above her bare feet.
“Nils!” I called in sudden panic. “She’s leaving!”
Nils laughed at me across the tarp he was spreading.
“Even the best of us,” he said, “have to duck into the bushes once in a while!”
“Oh, Nils!” I protested and felt my face redden as I carried the bread plate to the tarp. “Anyway, she shouldn’t be running around in a nightgown like that. What would Mr. Grafton say! And have you noticed? She hasn’t made a sound since we found her.” I brought the eating things to the tarp.
“Not one word. Not one sound.”
“Hmm,” said Nils, “you’re right. Maybe she’s a deaf-mute.”
“She hears,” I said, “I’m sure she hears,”
“Maybe she doesn’t speak English,” he suggested. “Her hair is dark. Maybe she’s Mexican. Or even Italian. We get all kinds out here on the frontier. No telling where she might be from.”
“But you’d think she’d make some sound. Or try to say something,” I insisted.
“Might be the shock,” said Nils soberly. “That was an awful thing to live through.”
“That’s probably it, poor child.” I looked over to where she had disappeared. “An awful thing. Let’s call her Marnie, Nils,” I suggested. “We need some sort of name to call her by.”
Nils laughed. “Would having the name close to you reconcile you a little to being separated from your little sister?”
I smiled back. “It does sound homey-Marnie, Marnie.”
As if I had called her, the girl, Marnie, came back from the bushes, the long gown not quite trailing the slope, completely covering her bare feet. Both her hands were occupied with the long stem of red bells she was examining closely. How graceful she is, I thought, How smoothly-Then my breath went out and I clutched the plate I held. That gown was a good foot too long for Marnie! She couldn’t possibly be walking with it not quite trailing the ground without holding it up! And where was the pausing that came between steps? I hissed at Nils. “Look!” I whispered hoarsely, “she’s-she’s floating! She’s not even touching the ground!”
Just at that moment Marnie looked up and saw us and read our faces. Her face crumpled into terror and she dropped down to the ground. Not only down to her feet, but on down into a huddle on the ground with the spray of flowers crushed under her.
I ran to her and tried to lift her, but she suddenly convulsed into a mad struggle to escape me. Nils came to help. We fought to hold the child who was so violent that I was afraid she’d hurt herself.
“She’s-she’s afraid!” I gasped. “Maybe she thinks-we’ll-kill her!”
“Here!” Nils finally caught a last flailing arm and pinioned it. “Talk to her! Do something! I can’t hold her much longer!”
“Marnie, Marnie!” I smoothed the tangled curls back from her blank, tense face, trying to catch her attention.
“Marnie, don’t be afraid!” I tried a smile. “Relax, honey, don’t be scared.” I wiped her sweat-and tear-streaked face with the corner of my apron. “There, there, it doesn’t matter-we won’t hurt you-” I murmured on and on, wondering if she was taking in any of it, but finally the tightness began to go out of her body and at last she drooped, exhausted, in Nils’s arms. I gathered her to me and comforted her against my shoulder.
“Get her a cup of milk,” I said to Nils, “and bring me one, too.” My smile wavered. “This is hard work!”
