Miriam's Well

Miriam's Well Read Free

Book: Miriam's Well Read Free
Author: Lois Ruby
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it?”
    â€œWe’d run out of diseases of the ’90s, so someone started talking about a rock concert that was coming to the Kansas Coliseum, and the Jesus freaks that were threatening to picket it, and about the anemic record of our football team. Mr. Moron never did tune back in before the bell rang, and pretty soon Miriam Pelham’s fainting spell was ancient history.

CHAPTER TWO
    Told by Miriam
    I don’t remember fainting, only waking up on the floor and seeing the whole class hovering over me like a coven of witches. I remember snapping my knees together, and the nurse, Mrs. Elgin, saying she’d call my mother. “No!” I remember that.
    I told Mrs. Elgin I was fine and pinched my cheeks for some color. Maybe that would convince her. Mama did that every morning, not for any nurse, of course, but so she’d look fresh and healthy as she headed for the church. It was Mama’s job to send out all the mail and run off our bulletins. She didn’t get paid much, not in money. What she got was something far more valuable to all of us—a sense of belonging, of being loved, a blessing from Brother James when we were feeling vulnerable to the dark spirit, a healing hand when that was what we needed most.
    Right now I just needed some color. So I pinched my cheeks and smiled brightly.
    â€œMiriam, I do not like the way you look. When was the last time you had a checkup?”
    I could feel this band tightening around my chest. Brother James always said, “Lying lips are an abomination to the Lord,” but I also knew that telling the truth now would cost us all way too much. Holy Jesus, forgive me just this once, I prayed silently. “Just a week or two ago,” I said.
    â€œAnd did everything test out all right?” Mrs. Elgin asked.
    â€œYes, ma’am.”
    â€œYou had a blood test, the whole works?”
    â€œEverything I needed, Mrs. Elgin.” My face was hot, even though the rest of me was freezing cold. I felt bumps raising under the skin of my cheeks.
    â€œOpen wide,” Mrs. Elgin commanded, and before I could protest, she shoved a cold, bitter thermometer in my mouth. I coughed and spit the thing out. It clattered to the floor, sending shivers up my back. But it didn’t break, and she cleaned it and put it back in my mouth.
    â€œClose your lips tight,” she said, probing my wrist for a pulse.
    I could barely breathe, and I was terrified that the hateful glass stick would slide down my throat and choke me to death. Finally, mercifully, she slid it out of my mouth and went over by the window to read what it said. “It’s 101, Miriam. Have you had the sniffles?”
    â€œNo, ma’am.”
    â€œAny strange symptoms—going to the bathroom a lot or an itchy rash, vomiting, diarrhea?”
    â€œNo, ma’am.”
    â€œWhen was your last period?” she asked.
    â€œDo I have to tell you? Does the school law say so?”
    â€œNo, Miriam, it does not.”
    â€œWell, in my family, Mrs. Elgin, we don’t talk to strangers about personal things like that.”
    Then she asked me, “Are you pregnant, Miriam?”
    â€œNo, I am not pregnant. I’m not even married.” Mrs. Elgin smiled. Did she think I didn’t know it happened to unmarried girls sometimes? But I wasn’t that kind of girl. Brother James always says that our bodies are temples, and we must sanctify them and not defile them. One thing I’ve secretly wondered is, why is it okay to defile your body after you’re married? Questions come into my head when I’m not concentrating hard enough. I swallow them all the time, praying that the questions won’t show on my face, and praying for answers.
    Mrs. Elgin sighed deeply. I didn’t mean to cause her such grief. “I must call your mother, Miriam, because we can’t keep you at school when you’re running a fever.”
    â€œPlease don’t tell her

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