The Work and the Glory Read online

  He stopped, but Nathan leaned forward eagerly. “And? Joseph, don’t stop now. What did you see?”

  “Under the stone was a large box, made of flat stones laid in some kind of cement. And there in the box was everything he had said there would be.”

  “What do you mean, everything he said there would be?” Nathan demanded. “Was there something besides the plates?”

  “Oh, I didn’t mention the other things?”

  “What other things?”

  “Moroni said that with the plates I would find a Urim and Thummim—two stones set in silver bows—which fastened to a breastplate, a piece of armor you would strap around a man’s chest. The stones were to assist me in translating the book. The breastplate has a place to attach the Urim and Thummim so as to leave the hands free to work.”

  The shocks were coming like pelting rain. “So you are to translate this book? That’s the work God has for you?”

  “Nathan, Nathan,” Joseph laughed. “Please let me finish.”

  “I’m sorry,” Nathan replied ruefully. “This story has too many endings.”

  Joseph moved a little closer to Nathan. The air had turned quite chilly now. The harvest moon, now half waning, was rising above the trees to the east of them, turning their puffs of breath into silvery clouds. Also in the light Nathan saw Joseph had turned very sober. “What?” he said, puzzled by the sudden shift of mood.

  “You believe me, don’t you, Nathan.” It was not a question, but a statement, filled with wonder.

  It stunned Nathan.

  “You believe it all. I can see it on your face.”

  For a moment, time seemed suspended as Nathan probed the inward recesses of his soul. There was still the incredu-lousness, still the sense of hearing something that couldn’t possibly be true. And yet he knew it was. He knew without the least shadow of doubt that everything Joseph was telling him was true. And so, finally, with a wonder of his own, he said, “Yes, Joseph. I believe you.”

  Joseph leaped to his feet and dragged Nathan up to face him. He grasped him by the shoulders, then pulled him to him and pummeled his back. “Thank you, Nathan. Thank you.”

  After a moment Nathan pulled back, twisting his mouth into a sardonic grin. “Does this mean I get to hear the end of the story?”

  Joseph laughed. “Yes.” Almost instantly he sobered, shaking his head. They both sat back down again, then Joseph went on. “So I’m kneeling there, in front of this stone box, looking down at the plates and the breastplate, filled with wonder and amazement.” He sighed, a sound heavy with pain. “And other things as well.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “At that point, I unfortunately proved Moroni had been right.”

  “Right about what?”

  “Remember, he had told me I would be tempted to use the plates for my own personal gain. In spite of that, on the way to the hill, I must confess, all I could think about was the gold. What it would mean to my family. A fortune! And suddenly mine.” He passed a hand across his eyes. “And suddenly, there it was! Right at my fingertips.”

  He stopped, and the silence seemed deafening. Nathan was leaning forward, hanging on every word.

  “There must be forty or fifty pounds of gold in those plates, Nathan. My parents have worked so hard and gone without so much. And now they’re getting older. All I could think of was our troubles were over.”

  His voice dropped in pitch as he remembered the shame. “I reached down to grab the plates. But as I touched them, something jolted me so violently, for a moment I had no strength in my arms. Stunned, I reached for them again. Again I was hit with a tremendous shock. It was like being hit with a bolt of lightning. Bewildered, dazed, I tried a third time. The third time the jolt was so powerful it knocked me backwards. In pain and frustration I cried out, ‘Why can’t I obtain this record?’ Almost instantly a voice beside me answered, ‘Because you have not kept the commandments of the Lord.’ ”

  “It was Moroni again.”

  “Yes. Imagine my shame. All of the feelings I had on my way to the hill came flooding back as I remembered his warning from the night before. He told me again I was not ready to receive the record. He said I was to return to that spot each year at the same time. Then, if I had prepared myself properly, I would get the record so I could translate it. As I said, that was four years ago now.”

  “Four years?” Nathan cried. “But why would he make you wait so long?”

  “He said I wasn’t ready.” There was a soft hoot of self-derision. “Obviously I proved that was true. So I put the stone back into place, covered it with earth, and returned home.”

  Nathan sat back, feeling like he had just run a footrace. Then suddenly comprehension dawned. “You said this happened in September?”

  Joseph nodded, stepping close enough for Nathan to see his features clearly. He was smiling, but sober too, filled with solemnity. He laid a hand on Nathan’s shoulder. “Yes, Nathan. It was late September.”

  “But…” Nathan stopped, staring at Joseph.

  “That’s right,” Joseph said quietly. “It will be four years next week.”

  “So how many more years are you going to have to wait?”

  His face took on a radiant look as he just looked at Nathan steadily.

  “Do you mean…?” He stopped, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed.

  Joseph smiled slowly. “That’s right, Nathan. I get the plates next week.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Mary Ann sat in the rocking chair in one corner of the cabin’s main room. Her fingers flew back and forth, the knitting needles clicking softly, as she worked on the shawl for Melissa’s trousseau. But her mind was not on the knitting nor on Melissa. It was on her son, and she watched him closely as he finished his supper, sitting alone at the table. They had expected him shortly after dark, knowing that the Harris farm adjoined theirs on the south and was no more than a five-minute walk. But he had come in barely half an hour ago, saying only he had finished the corn earlier than expected and gone into the village. She had raised one eyebrow, curious at his sudden reticence, but something in his eyes warned her off.

  Benjamin sat beside him, braiding some leather thongs into a bridle for the mules. He had not said much, but Mary Ann saw him once again look up and give Nathan an appraising look. He also sensed whatever it was Nathan was holding in. You could feel it, like some inner excitement bursting to get out but held in restraint by force of will.

  “Did you happen to see Joshua while you were in town?” It was said casually, with studied nonchalance. But it had the same effect as if he had hit the old tin tub with a wooden mallet. Matthew and Becca were playing checkers in front of the fire, using slices of corncob as the pieces and a short length of planking with the squares carefully etched into it as the board. Becca’s hand froze in the midst of a move and she glanced at her mother quickly. Matthew turned to his father, eyes wide and suddenly anxious. Melissa, stretched out on her parent’s bed reading a book Mr. Harris had sent over, put a finger in her place and looked up slowly. Even the dog, who had his head tucked comfortably against Matthew’s leg, woke up. His head lifted, ears cocked, and he looked back and forth between the family members.

  Nathan finally looked at his father. “Yes.”

  The silence stretched out for what seemed to Mary Ann like an interminable length of time. Then her husband grunted some kind of response, keeping his eyes focused on the bridle.

  “I asked him to come to dinner Sunday, for Ma’s birthday.”

  There was a quick stab in Mary Ann’s chest. From Nathan’s expression she already knew what the answer was going to be.

  Again Benjamin merely rumbled something in reply. He was too proud to ask for the answer. From the bed, Melissa gave a soft exclamation, clearly exasperated. “Well?” she finally said, when it became obvious no one else was going to pursue it. “Is he coming?”

  Nathan looked at his mother, then shook his head. “He’s working long hours at the ware
house now. He may have to work Sunday.”

  She nodded slowly, seeing in his eyes that he was trying to soften it for her.

  “How is he?” Melissa asked softly.

  Nathan shrugged. “He’s fine. Unloading freight is filling him out.”

  That was the problem with Nathan, his mother thought. His eyes always betrayed him. She tried to hold his gaze, see what was hidden there, but he looked away quickly, and the pain shot through her again. There was more, and it wasn’t good, but with the strain between Joshua and his father, Nathan would not elaborate.

  Gradually the tension in the room began to dissipate. The dog laid his head back down again. The two younger children went back to their game and Melissa returned to her reading, though Mary Ann noticed she too would stop now and then and look at Nathan quizzically.

  For five minutes it was silent in the cabin except for the quiet murmur of Becca and Matthew at checkers. Then Benjamin gave one last tug on the bridle and stood. “I think I’ll go up in the loft and see if I can find that leak in the roof.”

  Mary Ann nodded, understanding the tension in him and what was driving it. Nathan pushed aside his plate, now wiped clean. “You need some help, Pa?”

  “No, there’s not room enough for two of us up in that corner.” He walked to the wall near the door, hung the bridle on a peg, then moved to where a lantern sat on a shelf. He found a match, lit the lantern with it, then moved to the stairs.

  Nathan watched him go, not stirring until the sound of his footsteps on the floor above stopped as he climbed up the notched log ladder that led to the attic loft where Matthew slept. But then instantly he was up. He grabbed a chair and brought it over to sit beside his mother.

  “Ma, I’m sorry about Joshua,” he said. His voice was low, and he glanced quickly towards the stairs.

  Melissa had missed none of this. She closed the book and sat up, leaning forward to listen.

  Nathan sighed. “I stopped in McBride’s store to get some candy—” He stopped suddenly, remembering. Thrusting his hand into his pocket, he drew out the sack. “Matthew. Becca. I brought something for you from the village.”

  Matthew was up like a shot and to Nathan’s side in an instant, with Becca on his heels. “Yippee!” he crowed as Nathan divided out the spoils.

  As they went back to their game, sucking on the licorice, Melissa came and sat on the floor in front of her mother. “May I listen?” she asked.

  Nathan nodded, and began again. “Anyway, I was in the store getting candy. I happened to be talking with Lydia McBride—”

  “Happened to be?” Melissa teased.

  Nathan flushed. “Well, Joshua came in at that moment. All Lydia and I were doing was talking, but…” He lifted his shoulders in a gesture of frustration. “It probably wasn’t the best time to ask him to come for dinner.”

  “Maybe he’ll still come,” Melissa volunteered. “Once he cools down. You know how proud he can be.”

  But Nathan was shaking his head. Again he darted a quick look toward the stairs. “He might have changed his mind…before.”

  “Before what?” Melissa prompted.

  He took a deep breath. “But I saw him again, later today.” With heavy heart he proceeded to relay the events of that afternoon on the street.

  Nathan stopped, his eyes lined with pain. “I’m sorry, Mama. I shouldn’t have confronted him like that.” He sighed again. “I think he’d been drinking a little. And then whenever he’s around Will Murdock…” He left it unfinished. There was really no need to say more.

  Mary Ann stopped knitting long enough to pat his arm. “It’s all right, Nathan. I’m glad you helped Emma. That’s shameful they treated her that way.”

  Nathan slid forward on his chair, bringing his face closer to his mother’s. His voice dropped another level so he was doing little more than whispering. “Afterwards, I went down to see Joseph, Ma.” He paused, his eyes shining with excitement. “That’s why I was so late.”

  Melissa started a little. It caught her brother’s eye and he hesitated, searching her face. Mary Ann understood immediately what he was thinking. She and Nathan had an unspoken agreement that they would not talk of Joseph in front of Benjamin and trigger his ire. That meant they usually found a time when it was just the two of them. But Mary Ann had told Melissa of Joseph’s vision and her own feelings. She had also been party to some of their discussions. She had not given any indication, one way or the other, how she felt about it, and that was the cause of Nathan’s hesitancy. But her eyes were openly curious and showed no sign of questioning, so after a moment Nathan seemed satisfied and turned back to his mother. “He told me about the gold plates, Ma.”

  In moments, the knitting was forgotten as Nathan began to recount what Joseph had shared with him. They sat together, the three of them, heads huddled together, speaking in hushed voices. Melissa once asked him to repeat something he said, but other than that both sat quietly, listening intently. At one point, Mary Ann reached up and brushed at the corner of her eyes, causing Nathan to peer at her more closely. She motioned him to continue, not wanting him to stop.

  Nathan sat back finally, eyes shining with excitement. “Next week, Mother. He gets them next week.”

  A noise behind them caused them all to jump, their heads snapping around. Benjamin was standing on the bottom step, the extinguished lantern in his hand. His face was an inscrutable mask.

  How long had he been there? Mary Ann realized with a start that Becca and Matthew were both on the bed now, Becca looking at the pictures in Melissa’s book, and Matthew asleep. She had been so engrossed in Nathan’s narrative, she hadn’t noticed their movement. Or her husband’s presence on the stairs.

  “Did you find it?” she asked, too quickly, picking up the needles again.

  He shook his head, then moved slowly across the room and replaced the lantern on the shelf. Melissa’s eyes followed him anxiously. Nathan was staring at his hands.

  “You’ll have to go up on the roof in the daytime,” Mary Ann started, fighting to keep the guilt out of her voice. They had not been deliberately trying to hide anything from him, but it looked like an open conspiracy. “It’s not a bad leak yet, but winter could make it—”

  She stopped. He had turned now, his eyes narrowed and lips tight. He stood there, looking at Nathan. The silence was thunderous. Finally Nathan looked up and met his gaze.

  “That’s the biggest cartload of nonsense I’ve ever heard.”

  Mary Ann’s head came up sharply. “There is no need to be insulting, Ben,” she said quietly.

  He swung back to his wife. “Since when is speaking the truth insulting? It is nonsense. Ridiculous nonsense, and I can’t believe a son of mine sat there and listened to talk of angels and gold books without so much as even raising an eyebrow.”

  Nathan started to clear his throat, but his father rode over it. “Angels popping in and out of the bedroom like a gopher in a potato patch, God appearing in the woods, a gold Bible buried in a hill.” He gave a soft hoot of disgust. “What’s that lyin’ fool gonna come up with next?”

  “Whatever Joseph is,” Nathan said evenly, “he is not a fool. Nor is he a liar.”

  “Right,” he sneered. “First he says an angel shows him where there’s this golden book. Then he tells him there’s also a pair of magic spectacles so he can read it.” He threw up his hands. “Just what does it take to convince you a man is a fool?”

  “He didn’t say they were magic spectacles, Pa, he only—”

  But his father was having none of it. He whirled on his wife again. “And you and Melissa sitting there, not saying a word. Does that mean you believe this tripe too?”

  Melissa’s eyes dropped before the power of the challenging gaze, but Mary Ann did not flinch. She put down her knitting slowly. “Ben,” she started softly, “I know how you feel about this kind of thing, but what if—” Her voice suddenly caught. “What if they’re true? Think about that. The heavens opened again. God speaking to h
is children, like he did in Bible times. Oh, Ben, what if it is true?”

  “It’s not true!” he snapped. “This boy is crazy, a ravin’ lunatic. Straight from the asylum.”

  “That’s what some people said about Jesus, too,” she said quietly.

  He snorted his derision, then turned to his daughter. “What about you, Melissa?”

  She flinched. “I…I don’t know, Pa. It all seems so strange in a way, but…”

  “But what?” he demanded.

  “But I agree with Nathan on this much. We know Joseph. He worked for us all that time. I don’t think he’s a liar.”

  “He don’t have to be lying!” Benjamin shouted. “You ever heard of being crazy? You ever heard of being deceived?” He stopped, chest heaving, his head shaking, like a bull about to charge. “This is devil’s work, Mary Ann, and I won’t have it in this house.”

  “But Pa—,” Nathan started. At the look in his father’s eyes, Nathan stopped.

  “I said it’s crazy talk, and God help the fool who listens to it.”

  Mary Ann shot to her feet, spilling the knitting and the needles onto the floor. It caught all of them by surprise, and even Benjamin fell back a step. She stepped forward, her face close to his, her eyes boring into him.

  “Well, it is,” he muttered lamely, cowed by the look in her eyes. “It’s nothing but crazy talk.”

  “You have your feelings,” Mary Ann said slowly, “and you’re welcome to them, but I’ll not have you taking the name of the Lord in vain in front of the children.”

  He glanced behind her. Matthew and Rebecca were both wide awake now, sitting on the bed, staring wide-eyed at their parents.