Because of my bleeding head, I’m allowed to sit in the pew and hold a towel to it. Everyone else is kneeling. It is a mercy so unusual for Ezekiel that I can’t help wondering if it’s from regret or guilt. Is he sorry that he hit me so hard, or does he feel I deserved the punishment? Whatever the reason I’m grateful. Mother Rose brings me two towels. One is filled with ice to keep the swelling down. The other is to sop up the blood that has slowed down to a trickle in the last hour. My entire body aches from the impact of hitting the altar, but my head throbs with pain. I don’t look at Ezekiel for fear that my anger will show. I’ve got to get into the room with my mother. I have to see how she’s doing and what she needs. But the women are taking turns, two at a time, nursing Mother Martha in two-hour shifts. I’m sure they won’t want my help because I’m not yet married. If I go to her, it will be seen as defiant. Her screams continue, but they’re farther away now that the women have taken her to her bed.
