Thread: Levirate (Google and skittish_butterfly)

Constance couldn't help that old stubborn look on her face as her father took for granted his right to simply barge in to her apartment -- and Rory's of course -- as if it was still her room back home with the family where his word was law and she'd had to live with whatever he decided. This time was different though. As her eyebrows lowered and her pale cheeks gained the most color they'd felt in months, it wasn't just the futile tantrum of a little girl caught in the trap of her religion, where the man of the house had the final say on everything and where women existed as biblical after thoughts, barely even needing names in most cases -- just Lot's wife and such in most of the Council's favorite Old Testament tales. Her slender hands balled into little rebellious fists at her sides, making Constance feel 16 again and just wanting to study rather than cook and mop and wash her brother's clothes so he could play outside. But she was a college girl now, no, a college woman and even though she was still caught in the same religion she'd grown up with the resistance in the heat of her green eyes' blazing glare came from the fact she was now 22 and married, so she was no longer subject to her father's whims! Yet still, her father didn't seem to recognize this simple fact, all but marching right past her and ignoring her resolute expression, looking around as if he was about to criticize her for being too busy studying and not careful enough with cleaning and household chores. The Elder walked in too as if his position entitled him to whatever he wanted, and then Rory's smirking older brother followed right behind, disgusting as always in his arrogance especially for a man whose only connection to the faith was a quickie conversion he'd pretended to take seriously just enough for a marriage between them she'd barely managed to avoid. All these men with their religious entitlement traipsing right past her into the living room made Constance slam the door with enough force that old Mrs. Hubbard down the hall would almost certainly complain about that infernal racket again at the next tenant's meeting. Constance fumed, grateful only to be feeling something beside grief, but wishing it was something other than the familiar old rage she'd always had against having been born a girl into her such an Old Testament faith, into a family that took it all so seriously. With her arms crossed defiantly in front of her over her small chest, she rounded on the three of them, ready to inform them this was her house and she was a married woman and needed no man to tell her what to do or what to talk about when, and certainly no business just bursting right in when they pleased like she was 16 with no right to privacy again. Her dad didn't seem any more interested in her thoughts or feelings than he ever had when she was growing up. Did he ask, why are you upset, Constance? or Is there something wrong? No, of course not. He just stood there with his perfectly coiffed gray hair and expensive glasses and that suit of his he always wore even though nobody wore suits anymore, like he was getting ready to issue new demands for her. She'd be damned if she was going to come to his house and continue mopping and cooking like he'd still expected even in her early months of marriage. She had her own life and he could pay for help just like anybody else! Constance waited for him to speak, through that nervous cough of his that always told her whatever this was it was big, and she slowly backed against the wall, her arms dropping slightly to her sides. The only times she could remember him acting this way were when Mom had finally lost her battle with the coma she'd slipped into years earlier after giving birth to Constance, when Uncle Marcus had gone to prison for tax evasion and been excommunicated, and when her brother's poor grades senior year in high school cost him the football scholarship offer and Constance had been blamed for focusing on her own studies rather than making sure Dan was taken care of. She'd missed a month of school after that, and it had almost cost her own college admission several years later, if it weren't for Rory. She couldn't imagine what could justify her father acting like this now, no more sick or old relatives could have died, Uncle Marcus still wasn't up for parole for another year, and Dan was married and working for Dad's company and not worried about college or depending on Constance for anything anymore, since he had his own wife to serve him now. It was the old marriage criticism again, about her marrying Rory who treated her well, rather than Jacob who was clearly such a jerk he would have made her life miserable and only could have married a girl like her because her father had the power to declare that his daughter must marry. He hadn't counted on her finding a better match, another man another Nielson brother willing to marry her in fact who would treat her nicely. Constance was already opening her mouth to defend Rory and her own rights as a married woman... except he trailed off awkwardly, mumbling about certain things which had to be done. Constance's face looked from man to man to man, her Dad's nervous smile, the Elder's resolute expression like a man who was in his element with some religious duty to perform, and Jacob worst of all, looking like he'd just cooked someone else's golden goose and eaten it all himself. What? What in the name of... She looked down, old habits returning all to easily in the presence of the men of her family and faith, avoiding even the hint of blasphemy that all so easily crept into her speech at university and with Rory. What are you talking about? It was the old, bald Elder who spoke, starting the explanation like he was delivering his Sunday sermon in that slow raspy voice of his, his eyebrows moving with each word more than his hands even. Constance stifled a derisive laugh as the Elder extolled Jacob's piety -- please, the man who'd squeezed her ass and made such impure comments about her that would have made Mary Magdalene herself blush. She glance at Jacob's annoying face and saw he was eating this up, like he'd lived his life for this moment, which was so odd because Constance knew there was no way that cretin gave one whit what the old Elder thought of him. And yet he'd gone to services enough over the last years to register with the old man. No children. The elder finally got to the point, and wasn't it always, every time any of the men of the community spoke with her or asked about her, it was always her womb or her broom they cared about. She shook her head, proud of not having children yet even if she felt some sadness there was no one to step into Rory's shoes now, making his loss somehow feel more final with no one to replace him. Formalities? She stepped closer to the Elder, her finger already pointing at his chest and ready to poke and remind him she'd signed every paper when Rory had married her, the contractual obligation to obey her husband, legal powers, how she'd signed every document they'd put in front of her when the court had declared him dead. What more could they expect from her. Formalities! But it was her dad who took over, sort of stepping between them before Constance could vent her fury at the old man. He spoke of convincing the Elders to give her more time... more time, two months. For what? She looked from Father to Elder, perplexed her slender frame showing how deeply each breath was coming as she struggled to keep calm, her face feeling as red as her hair. It was almost gleeful look in Jacob's eyes that told her something was up. One to the other she searched the three faces, her dad and the Elder looking at her as if it would have been obvious to her if she had just paid attention in Sunday School instead of gossiping and checking her makeup the way they were sure all young girls did. What formalities? For Heaven's sakes... Sorry, I mean, just, I've signed everything already, there is no funeral, no kids, not even a will to read. What else could you possibly want from me? The Elder opened a bible at the tasseled bookmark and put it in front of her, his gnarled finger pointing at a yellow highlighted passage, looking at her with a stern expression fitting of the Book. Constance read it aloud in a soft bewilder voice that grew softer with each word as the meaning started to come clear to her. Deuteronomy 255-6 If brethren dwell together, and one of them die, and have no child, the wife of the dead shall not be married abroad unto one not of his kin her husband's brother shall go in unto her, and take her to him to wife, and perform the duty of a husband's brother unto her. Click to expand... Constance looked up from the book at the Elder and her dad, almost sick to her stomach and unable to face the smirk on Rory's brother's face. You can't be serious. Why, that's ridiculous. That's primitive... She saw the look in the Elder's eyes and backtracked, I just mean... that was for marriages like 2000 years ago, when everything was different, not now. You can't just... it doesn't make sense! The Elder raised a hand to stop her. Of course, my dear, of course. Do you think you are the first childless widow of our faith? I've dealt with this before. Don't you believe in a loving God who knows what is best for his beloved creations, even women? Constance nodded, biting back vitriol to hear him out as her heart pouned in her chest almost too loud for her to hear. So, of course there is a ritual, a 'formality' to dispense with this. Keep reading child. Constance bristled at being called a child but read more Deuteronomy 257-10 But if the man does not wish to take his brother's wife, the brother's wife shall go up to the gate, to the elders, and say, 'My husband's brother has refused to perpetuate his brother's name in Israel he does not wish to perform the obligation of a husband's brother with me.' Then the elders of his city shall call him and speak to him, and he shall stand up and say, 'I do not wish to take her.' Then his brother's wife shall approach him before the eyes of the elders and remove his shoe from his foot. And she shall spit before his face and declare, 'Thus shall be done to the man who will not build up his brother's household! And that family shall be called in Israel 'the household of the one whose shoe has been removed.' Click to expand... Constance looked up from the book with a small smile on her lips as she met Jacob's smirk with her own. All she had to do was basically spit on Jacob? That was the formality? The Elder finished explaining You see child, the Lord thinks of everything. You just need to agree,swearing on your husband's soul that you wish to complete this ceremony and we can get it over with and get out of your hair. The old man handed her a well worn 3x5 note card with a handwritten passage on it, clearly worn over time. Constance scanned it briefly. The words came easily to her as she looked right into Jacob's obnoxious eyes before reciting it with true feelings, thinking of spitting on him as her final parting gift. Of course, Elder. I solemnly swear on my dead husband's grave to complete this ceremony and obeying all the laws connected to it, so that my husband's memory should remain blessed. She glanced up from the card, certain she'd heard Jacob snort, as if her husband's memory was some kind of joke. Excuse me, Jacob, but some people take their faith seriously you know! Rory was your brother too, and you should show some respect for his memory. This ceremony involves you too! Oh boy did it. She just hoped his shoe wouldn't smell too bad. Now take off that shoe, let me spit on you, and then get out of my life! The Elder and her dad looked appalled that she spoke to a man with that tone, but it didn't matter. She was a married woman not her father's little girl and this was her house. God loved her too, enough to give her this ceremony, even if she was only a girl.