To Be Child of God [A Merome Story]

✧Chapter 4✧

The more I thought about it, the more I realised that Jerome's suggestion made sense. He wanted to leave as well but he would never leave a girl after he was betrothed to her like Luke had done- chances were, if he wasn't betrothed to me then he would be to one of my friends, and they wanted to stay. He also understood me. By breaking the rule I had gotten to know him more than I had any other boy I might get married to. He was genuine, open to me about how he wanted to leave, and he provided me with information that would help me leave too.

Young people weren't supposed to arrange their own marriages, nor were we supposed to make a mockery of marriage as it was supposedly a sacred bond, but I was questioning that too. Before, everything had made sense. We did what we were told to avoid eternal damnation, we obeyed the leaders as they spoke the word of god. I had been upset about my name being called out, yes, but if Jerome hadn't talked to me I likely would have simply accepted it as my fate. I would have gotten married, had children, and I would have been that good and godly wife. Now I knew different. I had hope and, once I got more information, I would be able to leave with confidence.

I had been taking Mercy and Thomas down to the day-care again when I ran into Grace. She was dropping off her oldest child, Leah, who was one, while also cradling her two month old daughter. Her husband, Robert, worked driving and repairing the machinery and I had seen him around a few times. They seemed happy together and I suspected Grace, who had given birth only two months earlier, may have been pregnant again.

"Charity!" She greeted me, moving out of the doorway so I could nudge my two younger siblings inside. I made sure they were where they were meant to be before turning to her.

"Hey Grace." I said with a smile. Her younger daughter, Eve, squirmed in her arms. "How are you? How are the girls? How is Robert?"

"We're all doing very well." She smiled. "It has been difficult these last few months, getting used to Eve's arrival, but we are settling into our new routine. How are you? Your name was called out last Sunday, was it not? Are you excited? I remember that time, waiting to know."

"Not sure yet." I managed to say. "It is strange, but my friends are all excited." Grace gave me a sideways, concerned look.

"Something is troubling you? I can tell, something is on your mind."

"I don't know." I finally said, forgetting my words. "I don't think I'm ready but... I just don't know." Grace secured her daughter on her hip and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Your husband will be kind. The men that will chose are kind and honourable. I know it is difficult in the beginning, but it is a good life." There was another reassuring squeeze. "I will pray for you, Charity."

"Thank you Grace." I whispered.

We turned and walked in separate directions, her back to her room in the hostel and myself to the kitchen again. Her words stuck to me, painfully, because she was so happy. She loved her children and her husband, who most often went by Rob, was kind and joyful. Her life was exactly what my friends wanted.

Her first daughter had been born exactly nine months after her marriage to Rob- and suddenly it hit me. If I got married, would I be expected to have children? I had no idea how it happened, how the child got there, but I knew you had to be married... but you didn't. The elders often preached about the sin of a woman having children outside of marriage, so being married wasn't a factor. If I married Jerome, would he want me to have children? Would he change his mind and want to stay? Would he, would he, would he? There were so many questions. I thought about all day and all night, through my work, until Jerome gestured, once again, 2 o'clock the next morning.

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He could tell something was wrong the moment he arrived. I was tapping my foot, my arms were folded and I was physically shaking from the nerves and questions racing around my mind.

"Charity?" He said, rushing forward. He didn't touch me, thankfully. I probably would have freaked out if he had. "Oh God, are you okay? Are you okay about the idea?"

"Yes- no- yes- I don't know!" I wailed, burying my head into my hands. I collapsed into the plants, not caring that I was probably sitting on some of the crops. "Everything's so confusing!"

Jerome gave me several minutes to cry myself out and calm down before he finally spoke, voice soft and calm but also high with worry.

"Can you explain to me what's upsetting you so much? If you don't like the idea then we won't do it but-"

"No, I'm fine with the idea." I said, sniffing. "It's just... there's so many what ifs. What if the elders say no? What if we're married to other people? And even if we do end up together would you... would you..." I couldn't even say it.

"Would I what?" He prodded.

"If we got married, would you expect me to have kids? Would you change your mind and stay?"

"No!" He cried out, shocked. "Of course not! I know you don't want to have kids! And dear God, there's no way in hell I'd stay! The only reason I'm honestly still here is because I'm helping you. If I didn't have a reason to be here, I'd be long gone." I blinked at him.

"Really?" I whispered.

"Yes. I was thinking about leaving the day my name was called out, and then I met you. I know you're scared and I know you don't want to leave your family, so I'm here to get you the information you need to understand who you are. And if you are like Lachlan, if you are transgender, then you can't stay here if you ever want to be your true, honest self."

"I know. It's just... I don't even know how it happens. I don't know what happens when people get married and it... it scares me." I sighed shakily. "It feels so wrong. Everything feels so wrong and I just don't know anymore. I think- I think that transgender is the right word, but I don't know. I don't know anything."

Jerome paused, then looked me up and down.

"If that does feel right, would you rather I didn't call you Charity? Would you rather try something else out? When we're alone, obviously."

"Ye- yeah." I finally said, furrowing my brow. "But what would you call me? I don't have any names and I don't think I want to be called something that's biblical.

He looked me over once again, thought for a few minutes, and then said-

"You look like a Mitch."

Mitch. Huh. I liked it.