The Polygamist

Spencer Smith was one of those great anachronisms of the Twenty-First Century. He was a patriarchal polygamist who was scrupulously careful to avoid problems with the law. His women were all over eighteen when he took them and he was careful to say that his only legal wife was his first wife Moriah.

Despite his best efforts Spencer and his family had been the target of a raid by police, Federal authorities, and social workers. The raid had made international news in part due to the inflammatory accusations that had been leveled against Spencer along with the almost mandatory language about how he was a white separatist, a sovereign citizen, and how the cluster of nicely kept homes the family lived in somehow constituted a dreadful 'compound'.

The police made a big show of shaving his beard off and then cutting his long hair due to 'prison standards' all while the man was in a county jail awaiting arraignment and yet to be sentenced to a state prison that had such rules. They repeatedly called him a 'sovereign citizen' although he fiercely loved his country and had proudly served it in uniform.

The media were paraded through the family's homes and fed stories of abuse and somewhere along the line the media started to question the official narrative they'd been fed. Such as the accusation that Spencer's women were underage when their actual birthdates on actual police reports said otherwise.

It took only two weeks for the official narrative and the criminal prosecution to crumble once the media turned their eyes from Spencer to the authorities.

The charges were shortly thrown out by a judge, several investigators were suspended from their jobs, and two of them were even indicted for perjury in the matter of the illegal warrant they'd obtained. It was quite the embarrassment for the forces who had thought to build their careers at the expense of Spencer and his unorthodox family.

The civil rights lawsuits were closely followed by the media and by civil liberties organizations. In the end there followed legislation from Congress that severely limited the ability of law enforcement to pursue cases based on flimsy or fictitious evidence.

Spencer and his family were eventually reunited and they used much of their multimillion dollar court ordered awards rebuilding their erstwhile compound.

Yet even with the legal problems behind them the story about the family remained an object of fascination for the media. Paparazzi were frequently chased off the property along with teams of reporters who were all looking for a salacious 'inside' story.

In time the story eventually faded from the headlines.

But a couple years later a recent college graduate in her first job as an actual reporter decided that she was going to approach the story a different way. Rowan brought the idea to her editors who initially shot the story down as old news but then she persisted and told them of her unique idea. They finally consented and sent her on her way to see about getting Spencer to agree to the idea.

She had to take a room in a nearby town while she made numerous efforts to contact Spencer. Finally he agreed to meet with her after she'd sent him a full resume and background on herself along with pictures.

Spencer himself drove out to meet her at the hotel coffee shop where they had a friendly discussion.

"Well, Rowan, I'll give you this, you're a lot more persistent than the other reporters. So tell me what this original idea of yours is?"

Rowan folded her hands in front of her, "I'd like to come live with you for a year. I'll live according to how you live and when it's done I'll write about my experience and let people know who you folks are and just how you live."

Spencer sighed. "And then you'll tell everyone what a freakshow we are and how we should be arrested and put in jail for living the way we want to live, right?"

She put up her hands, "No, I mean it. I promise I'll try to fit in and live the way you folks live and then I'll be honest about the experience, I promise."

Spencer looked at her intently. "So that means you'll be under my roof and you'll live like a woman under my cover, and no special treatment, is that right?"

"Yes, exactly that. I can live like one of your wives and see what that means."

"Secular women generally don't like this life, why would you be different?"

"Well, it's for a year and then I'll be gone. I suppose that makes some difference."

Spencer stood up. "I'll think on this and so should you. If you do this and you live like one of my wives I won't be easy on you. You might not like it when you find out what a difficult life it can be. But at the same time you just might discover how beautiful it can be to live the way our Heavenly Father intended."

He put down a few bills to pay for the coffee. "If you truly want this then meet me here this time tomorrow."

Rowan stood up to say good bye but Spencer just turned on his heel and strode off.

She hadn't even left the table when she called her editor and told him the good news. She imagined she'd be in the running for a Pulitzer with a story like this one!

She also wondered if she'd find the kind of evidence to destroy Spencer that the authorities had missed. It outraged her that a liberal judge of all people had dismissed the charges against Spencer when the man clearly belonged in a cage.

The next day she was waiting when Spencer showed up.

"You're serious then?" he asked her.

"I am." she replied.

"I'm going to make clear here that you're asking to live as one of my wives and submit to the rules of my house, am I right?"

Rowan nodded insistently, "Yes, you are. I'll do these things just like you ask."

Now Spencer's face pinched, "No, you don't understand. I won't be asking you to do anything, not at all. You will be told what to do and when to do it and if you can't accept that then this is not for you."

So close and yet so far! In her eagerness to get the story Rowan could only see the destination and not the journey. She doubled down.

"Oh, no! I'll do what you say, I mean it! I really want to find out what your life is like and this is the best way to do that!"

Spencer put out his hand, "Then we have an understanding."

Rowan shook his hand and felt the calluses from the hard work he did.

There were details to work out. Rowan returned her rental car and then put her bags in Spencer's truck for the ride back to 'the ranch' as he called it. She still thought of it as a compound and fought back the urge to call it by that word.

They were about a mile out of town when Spencer spoke up. "The jewelry comes off. All of it. It's not allowed in my house."

"What?"

He pulled the truck to the side of the road. "The nose ring, the earrings, and anything else you have for jewelry, it all comes off before we get to the ranch. I don't want those things being seen by my children."

Rowan sighed and complied. The nose ring came off, her other rings came off, the earrings came off, her anklet, and finally the belly button piercing. All of which she had collected since her freshman year in college.

Spencer put the truck back in gear and got going again. Rowan made a few attempts at conversation but Spencer would just grunt an acknowledgment and continue driving.

When they arrived at the ranch Rowan expected there would be some sort of greeting and instead Spencer directed one of his many daughters to get Rowan set up with a bed and 'what else she needs'.

This included a simple button down dress that the teenager told Rowan to put on. Once that was handled the teenager took Rowan out to the orchard and showed her how to pick apples.

There was a break for lunch and Rowan tried talking to the different family members but they more or less ignored her and went right back to the task at hand. Flustered at their lack of response she focused on the task at hand.

"That was a lot of work!" she announced when the end of the day was announced and everyone headed in to get cleaned up.

One of the women started walking beside her. "We have to get the apples in before the weather turns and before the deer or the bears come and get them. We're not just working for the sake of working, we're bringing in a harvest that we're depending on to help get us through the winter. If we don't work we won't eat. It's that simple."

Over the next month Rowan discovered the many connections between the 'pretty farm' and the food on her plate.

She also discovered that living with the family meant giving up her urban style of eating. She'd been a borderline vegetarian who would eat fish and seafood but she'd avoid anything that walked. She'd had to give this up when no one cared to cook anything vegetarian for her. Instead she was compelled to try the bacon, the pork roasts, the home raised chicken and beef, and whatever else ended up on her plate.

Rowan couldn't help but notice that the change in her diet was also accompanied by a growing stamina along with a paradoxical gain in weight and reduction in waist.

"You're getting stronger." one of Spencer's wives explained to her.

Rowan admitted to herself that she did feel better. All that work she was doing amounted to ten hours a day at the gym.

The cooler weather of fall came on and with the harvest completed the hard work became less harder. Rowan made notes about the pace of life and the connection to the weather and she liked how things were in synch with the rhythm of nature.

Rowan ended up with being put in charge of taking care of the family's herd of goats and that included milking the goats every day. Soon enough she was handy with the task and she even started getting involved in making cheese from the milk she'd gather every day. It amazed her to see the goats in the field and then she'd milk them and some time later there would be cheese on the table from her own efforts.

The cheese was also important for the family income.

Another thing that Rowan became accustomed to was the constant presence of faith. Prayers were said before every meal. Prayers were spoken in the morning and again in the evening. Prayers were spoken for the healthy and the ill. Even though she didn't believe in any of that 'hocus-pocus' she eventually found herself uttering prayers even when no one else was around.

Thanksgiving came along and for a few days the family hosted guests and saw friends. The holiday wasn't just a few hours at a table one night, it was several days with several dinners and occasions. Rowan found herself smiling more than she could remember.

She had been at the ranch for two months when after dinner one night she sat down with the women to listen to the children play guitar and other instruments. While the informal recital played out one of the toddlers came up to Rowan and climbed into her lap. Rowan felt deeply complimented by the child's actions and she was careful to be affectionate and pleasant to the child.

In the days afterwards the young child would frequently come up to her to be held or just to seek out a moment of attention.

Something else Rowan had noticed was how Spencer would sometimes give a look to one of the women at dinner and then that woman would go to bed with Spencer that evening. She also noticed the two women who were pregnant. It wasn't discussed but she did notice it was accepted. It was easy to notice the breastfeeding going on because no one was shy about it.

Thanksgiving seemed to have been the turning point for Rowan. Prior to the holiday no one was willing to speak to her about anything substantial. Oh, they'd talk about chores and the minutiae of day-to-day life but it seemed there was a wall around the subject of where the wives had come from and how they felt about their lives as Spencer's women.

And now they were talking! At least four of them did.

Clara had come to the family when she was nineteen and had escaped a broken relationship with a guy she knew from her hometown. Somehow she had ended up at Spencer's place looking for a meal and nine years and four kids later she was still there.

Galilee had been kicked out of her family home for being rebellious and her father had given her to Spencer. Spencer did his best with her but sometime after her eighteenth birthday she'd left and tried to make it on her own. A year later she returned and when Spencer had told her she wasn't allowed to live there as a daughter anymore she opted to live there as a wife and mother.

Eliza's story was of a failed marriage at an early age. Her husband turned out to be a criminal and when he was killed after shooting a police officer no one gave a shit about her. She was pregnant and forced out on the street. With no where to go she reached out to an old friend, the above mentioned Galilee, and asked for help. Spencer took her in and gave her son a home as well. She had since given Spencer babies of his own.

Payslee was the odd one out who chose to be Spencer's wife because no one else wanted the girl. She had been born with a facial birth defect and had been tortured about it all her life. Spencer took her in and she was willing to be with him from the start but he put that off and instead paid for the cosmetic surgery that no one else was willing to pay for. Rowan thought Payslee was quite cute and the few scars from her surgery were unnoticeable until Payslee pointed them out.

The rest of Payslee's story was that when the surgery was done and paid for and she was healed Spencer gave her the choice to leave freely if she wanted to.

She chose to stay as Spencer's first wife. The only legal wife he had.

Payslee shared the stories of the other four women who didn't care to talk to Rowan with the understanding that the stories were for Rowan and not for publication. Rowan agreed. Their stories echoed the other four.

The eight women shared the same man and their unique stories made clear Spencer's past assertions that he'd given them better lives than they would have expected otherwise. They also made clear that Spencer was a very passionate lover and Rowan found herself just a bit envious of them.

Rowan also found herself reassessing her biased view of the man and his odd family.

What was starting to trouble her was that she'd set out to destroy the man and now she was questioning her own motives.

Going into December the pace of family life slowed and moved indoors with the cold weather and the snow. After the chores and animals were attended to the women and girls would doff their boots and put on cozy slippers for the rest of the day. Everyone found reasons to stay inside where it was cozy and warm.

The late afternoon found Rowan cuddled up in a comfy chair in an upstairs reading room. Spencer walked past and glanced at her. Her bare feet hanging off the arm of the comfy chair appealed to him. Rowan never noticed the man's approving stare.

After dinner that night four of the women took Rowan off to the master bedroom suite for some serious primping and preening. "You're due for some lovin' after all your hard work!" said one of the ladies and Rowan welcomed their attention.

Rowan soaked in the big tub filled with flowery perfumed water. Her body was attended to and in many ways. Her hair was washed and luxuriously dried, she sipped on some of Spencer's whisky while one of the ladies gave her a pedicure and a foot massage, someone else attended to her eyebrows and even put on a little lip gloss for her.

At the end of it all Rowan looked and felt wonderful and she was dressed in a heavy white robe. It was so soft as to deny description and she realized it was alpaca wool. She was guided to a nice wing chair by the fireplace and she sat there sipping another glass of the whisky when the ladies, one by one, quietly left the room.

She looked outside as the cloudy day transitioned to a cloudy night.

She was alone for a little while before Spencer quietly entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Good evening, Rowan." he said to her as he poured himself a small glass of whisky.

"Hi. This has been just wonderful tonight, I didn't expect anyone would get pampered like this here."

Spencer sat down in the matching wing chair opposite Rowan. He was wearing a typical men's robe and his feet were bare. Crossing his legs Rowan thought for a moment that he wasn't wearing anything under his robe but she dismissed the idea.

"You've impressed my family these past few months and they like you. You've earned their respect. You've also earned mine." His voice was warm and friendly.

"Thank you." said Rowan. "If it isn't too much to ask maybe I can ask a few questions?"

Spencer smiled, "Always the reporter, aren't you? No, tonight I'd like to ask you some questions." He sipped his drink and then cradled the glass in his hands.

"Oh?" replied Rowan, "Like what?"

"How do you like living our life so far?"

She drew in a breath, "It's a lot of work but it's also like being on vacation all the time. There's the beautiful scenery, the animals, and then there's your family. I came here expecting that you were some sort of religious maniac and instead I'm discovering that you folks are living better than anyone I know even in New York City. We eat better, the air is better, we do hard work but we also keep what we work for, it's a slower pace of life but then we have the time to enjoy it, too."

Spencer held up his glass and viewed the amber liquid by the firelight. "I notice you say 'we' a lot."

Rowan sat back, "I do, don't I?"

Spencer looked at her, "Do you like thinking of yourself as a part of what we have here?"

"I don't know. I guess I just identify as being part of the family now. It all seems so familiar to me."

Spencer sipped his drink. "That's a good thing. Now that don't you don't see me as a tyrant how about you tell me what you think of me so far?"

"You're not at all what I expected. You're quiet but strong, the ladies speak highly of you, your children adore you, everyone here is doing well, and everything really is going well. You have it all figured out is what it looks like to me."

"Thank you, that sounds like high praise." He put down his drink. "Now I have another question for you; tell me about your life before this."

"Oh wow, where to start? I guess I'll start with my own family. I was the oldest of two girls and we had a nice childhood in Connecticut. Summers at the beach and all that. I did ballet lessons over the years and then when I broke an ankle I fell away from it and discovered I liked to write. That led me to college and I suppose that led me here."

"Right," said Spencer, "But wasn't there more to your life than ballet and school and journalism? You never mentioned having any young men around."

She shrugged, "I haven't really had the time. I mean I had a boyfriend in high school and then another in college but the last few years it's just been too busy. I mean I've had a couple friendly dates but they didn't go anywhere."

"Why is that? You're attractive, intelligent, you're doing well, why wouldn't a young man see that in you?"

Rowan pursed her lips. "It's more about me than them. I guess growing up in Connecticut I had ideas of what a relationship would look like and it doesn't really fit with living in New York. Nothing ever seems very permanent there."

"Could you see yourself moving out here somewhere?"

"Like where?" she asked.

"What about here? Right here?"

Rowan looked up for a moment and then replied, "I love the area but there's no work around here for a noobie journalist. And that dictates where I can live, it really does."

Spencer stood up, "What if I asked you to stay here? With me? Give up the fake life in New York City and start living with people who have it all figured out?"

Rowan gave an incredulous smile, "You're trying to seduce me, aren't you? That's what this was all about? The bath, the pampering, sitting here with you? You want me to stay here and be one of your women!"