“Of course I am a member of the church. But I was born in Mexico, to parents sealed in the covenant. I came to the United States to be near the temples. But I did not know that so many had fallen away from the true Principle,” said Mr. Perez.
What? He was a polygamist, too? I knew that many polygamous Mormons had fled to Mexico in 1890 to continue to live the Principle there long after it was illegal in Utah. How old was Hector Perez? Old enough to have been taught to believe in polygamy, apparently.
“Did you have more than one wife yourself?” I asked.
“I had two,” he said, “though they both died before I came here. I had so few years with them. They taught me so much about being selfless. I came here to the United States when Maria was a baby, when she and I were all that was left.” His hands moved to his chest as if to cradle a child in his arms. “Stephen and I had written many letters to each other and he had invited me many times to come here. This house was old and inexpensive. I improved it greatly, back in those days, when I had energy to do my own work.”
I had not expected this long-term relationship with Stephen. He might know more about Stephen’s life than anyone else.
“How long ago did you first come in contact with Stephen?” I asked.
“Oh, more than thirty years,” Mr. Perez answered. “We wrote each other letters, we studied God and the Principle together. He wanted to know about how I had been raised in the Principle, and we told each other about our families and our plans.”
I tried to cover my surprise. “Thirty years? So was that before he married Rebecca?”
“Yes, before that. He was so happy to find a willing woman. He knew she would see the truth of the Principle. I felt so much joy for him when I heard he was getting married. She’s a good woman, Rebecca.”
I was turning over what I had just learned—Stephen hadn’t just come across polygamy ten years after he and Rebecca were married. He had known all along he planned to practice polygamy. He had just been waiting for the right time to tell his wife about it and convince her he was right—a time after they already had children and a life together. I wanted to run up and shout the truth at Rebecca, so that she knew what kind of a man Stephen was. But it wouldn’t help her now.
“Were his parents polygamous?” I asked, though Mr. Perez might not know this.
“No. But Stephen told me about his childhood, how his parents died in a house fire, leaving him alone in the world, poor boy.” Hector Perez put a hand to his heart.
“His parents and his brother,” I said, because I’d heard the story before.
“Brother? No, Stephen was an only child. His mother could not have children for many years. And then, like Abraham and Sarah, his mother was blessed to conceive in her old age, and she had Stephen, a blessed child. It was one of the reasons that he believed so strongly in the Principle, because he knew that in order for his father to have posterity like the sands of the sea, he himself would have to have more than one wife.”
What twisted version of Mormonism was this? And it was somehow combined with Stephen’s past, from which he had for some reason erased his brother. Stephen had been excommunicated from his ward for polygamy, but it seemed that Hector Perez had not. Maybe John Edwards had never talked to Hector Perez enough to know about his past polygamy? Or had he thought he was too old to be disciplined for something he was no longer practicing?
I supposed I could understand John Edwards’s covering up the truth for an old man to allow him to remain in the church he loved for the last few years of his life, but it made me wonder again about the bishop of this ward and the “wink-nod” attitude about polygamy that Naomi had mentioned. Maybe it was something Kurt would eventually need to bring up with higher authorities in the church—if I ever had a chance to tell my husband about all of this.
Disgusted, and with my mind’s wheel spinning, I said a quick farewell to Mr. Perez and made my way back through the opening in the fence, up the hill, past the now empty graveyard, and toward the main house, tripping twice over rocks I couldn’t see in the twilight.
Chapter 24
I had intended to head directly to the bunk room and sleep, but I saw the lights on in the shed and figured now was my chance to go in and see Sarah in her element. It occurred to me then that maybe it would be wise for me to see what exactly had happened there.
I knocked on the door of the shed lightly.
Sarah opened it a moment later, obviously surprised to see me. “Yes?” She only allowed me to see her face through the crack in the door.
“I was hoping to see some of your paintings,” I said. “If you’d be willing to show me some of the remaining ones.”