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Everyone ends up getting to bed soon after dark, as is typical, except in summer, when the sun stays up until late, and in winter, when the sun stays for far too short a time. On Friday nights, Jocelyn is allowed to stay up later with Jacob and Josh (well, now just Josh, but she knows Jacob will return sooner or later, he has nowhere else to go), but most evenings, the responsibility to put the littles to bed falls to her, and, as she shares a room with her young sisters, it only makes sense that she goes to bed at the same time as them. She used to question this, but has since decided that it’s for the best that she complies with her mother’s strange rules.
The boys go down with varying ease, Joel insists that he’s old enough to stay up with Joshua, which makes sense for his age, but Jocelyn’s able to counter with the fact that she’s seventeen and she isn’t allowed to stay up late, and he accepts this, and goes to bed with relative ease. Jed doesn’t complain, but he never has. He’s always been the easy one. She prays over their room, as her mother taught her, and moves on to get the girls to bed.
Jessie doesn’t want to go to bed, which is typical for her age. Joey was the same at around that time, but it is annoying. She’ll fuss and whine and cry and Mother will try getting involved, which will only make things worse, but eventually they’ll get her to go to bed. Once she’s done teething again things will be easier, but in the meantime, they’ll just have to rough it out. She’s done this before, she’s been a part-time caretaker for her younger siblings since Jed was born and even then she’s held the responsibility of being the second-oldest woman in her household since very early in her life.
Jessica eventually settles, Mother doesn’t have to get involved this time, which is better for everyone. Jem goes down easily enough, but she’s been tired nearly all the time lately, as her allergies act up around this time of year, so she usually doesn’t put up a fight. This just leaves one more little to tuck in.
Johannah is infamous in the Fort Freedom community for being a “problem child.” She talks loudly, takes up space, complains, and runs off if she doesn’t like something. Plenty of local mothers have expressed their sympathy to Mother for having to deal with a child like her. Some have even tried providing solutions, but they rarely work.
A lot of people don’t realise that she is a good kid. She’s curious and smart and ambitious and socially aware and all the other things that people would praise her for if she was a boy. She’s frustrating at times yes, but Jocelyn feels more pity for her than anything else. She’s got a light in her spirit that will probably be stamped out by the time she’s 15. At least that’s how things went for Jocelyn.
She’s sitting on the nursery floor, looking up at her sister with wide doll-like blue eyes, “I don’t want to go to bed,” She whispers, as to not to wake up the others.
“We do this every night, Joey,” Jocelyn mutters.
She doesn’t say anything, just stares, widely. The look in her eyes says everything. She’s tired but she’s scared. The poor girl has been getting nightmares almost nightly since her last little escapade into the woods.
Jocelyn tries to return a steady firm gaze, but after a moment huffs a sigh, “Do you want to sleep in my bed tonight?”
Johannah nods and gets up from the floor to climb into her sister’s bed, the side closer to the wall. Jocelyn watches quietly as she pulls the thin blanket over her shoulder, decides to bring Johannah’s slightly warmer blanket over and places it over the girl as well, before climbing into bed and starting to undo the braids that she placed in Johannah’s hair just that morning. Throughout the day they went from neat and tidy to messy and uneven, with loose strands of hair pulled out already. The braids have become a daily ritual. Johannah hates having long hair, but Mother insists that it stays below collar level, so Josie started braiding it two even pigtails. She still messes with her hair throughout her day, but the style keeps it out of her face.
”I had a really bad dream last night,” Johannah whispers as Jocelyn combs her hair with her fingers, “Where in the morning I woke up and all the people I liked were gone. Everyone else was around though, and whenever I asked where you or Jed or Miss Crawford were they told me I was crazy. And then Russell appeared and he was like ‘I know where your sister and brother and Miss Crawford are but you have to come with me’ and I didn’t want to go with him but I did anyway and then a big monster came out of the woods and ate him and told me that he would eat me too but I wasn’t right yet and so I had to go with him so he could fix me and he made his dolphin soldiers kidnap me and take me to a cave and you and Jed and Miss Crawford were there and Jacob was there too but you were all very very dead and I started crying and then you got up and yelled at me for crying but also you were Mom and then there was a big explosion and we all died and I woke up.”
”That sounds very scary,” Jocelyn hums, “But it wasn’t real and nobody’s going to get kidnapped by a monster with dolphin soldiers or die.”
Johannah relaxes a bit, possibly mutters something about dolphins that Jocelyn can’t quite make out and is asleep within a few minutes, leaving Jocelyn to lay in silence.
This is her least favorite part of the night. She doesn’t like to be alone with her thoughts for too long as they tend to wander to the darkest places. As of late, those dark places have been thoughts of Lillie Crawford. She’s a good few years older than Jocelyn, around 23 or 24 and has been married for years. She doesn’t have any children of her own so she gives Bible lessons to various kids every few days. She’s strong, she works hard, has callouses on her hands, is firm and takes charge, but she is so gentle when she’s around the children. The kids all love her, Johannah adores her, and Jocelyn tries with all her might not to. The admiration she harbors for Mrs Crawford has a far more sinful nature.
It’s a shameful thing, having known you were a homosexual for years and still wallowing in that sin. Jocelyn has spent nights laying awake and crying for God to fix her and nothing has changed. Mother doesn’t know. She hopes she’ll never find out. She'd probably kill her.
She’s tried so incredibly hard to find an interest in one of the Fort Freedom boys, but they’re all so loud, and smelly, and masculine. She’s prayed countless times for God to bring her the perfect man, but has made very little progress in finding a boy she’s remotely interested in. It’s an issue.
Right. prayers. She needs to do those. They usually help.
Dear Father, she recites to herself, her lips moving, but not releasing any sound, Thank you for the blessings you give us every day. I’m not worthy of it. I’m not worthy of your grace or your blessings. I consistently betray your will with no remorse. Just now, I let my mind wander to the hands of Mrs. Crawford. I know it’s an abomination in your eyes…
Eventually the words meld into the same script she gives The Lord every night. It’s nice, routine, and comforting. She may be afraid, she may be sinful, but everyone is. She can feel her mind slipping into sleep before she even finishes the prayer (which has gotten pretty long and ramble-y at this point). She lets this happen, she welcomes it, she’s so tired.
And then a toddler cries, and Jocelyn’s jolted awake in an instant. She ends up by the side of little Jessica in seconds. She has to be ready to ensure that everyone else gets the rest they deserve. This is her responsibility. She was wrong to hope for good rest. This is going to be a long night.