Escape. Part 23

Despite his nearly two years of IV treatment, Harrison still went into daily spasms. There came a point in late 2001 when Dr. Smith ordered that a new port be put in because all of his veins had been blown. I was apprehensive. Every time Harrison had had surgery there was a major complication, but I knew we were out of options. The surgery was done the week before Christmas in St. George and went well. But within days, Harrison's fever spiked to 104 degrees-he had a staph infection. When I couldn't get his fever down, Dr. Smith said to bring him back to the hospital. I called an ambulance and we were on our way. Ambulances were becoming routine.

But it wasn't only Harrison. Bryson was just three months old and still underweight. He came with me wherever I went because he was on a strict feeding schedule. I now nursed him every two hours. While we were in St. George Bryson picked up an infection that developed into pneumonia. So when we finally came home, I was caring for two sick children.

Bryson needed to be on nebulizer therapy to help his breathing. Harrison needed to be on oxygen also because he was having a hard time keeping stable levels in his body.

After I got home and had the two boys settled, I went looking for my other children to make sure they were all okay. Betty was missing. No one in the family would tell me where she was. I'd ask a question and be completely ignored.

The next afternoon she arrived home. I learned she had been staying at Warren Jeffs' house.

It had become common practice for Merril's unmarried daughters to stay at Warren's house for sleepovers on a regular basis. These were wildly popular and like big slumber parties. No s.e.x was involved, but Warren got a chance to interact with these young adolescent girls and think about those he might want to marry when they were a few years older.

Betty was only twelve years old. I couldn't imagine one of my daughters getting married. But I had to ask myself how much longer she would be safe. She was Merril's favorite daughter, and he would be only too pleased to have her marry Warren Jeffs.

Warren's hold over the FLDS kept increasing as his father continued to decline. Uncle Rulon was rarely seen in public anymore, and no one was ever allowed to have an appointment with him. Merril's daughters said that none of his wives was allowed to see him unless Warren gave them permission. The girls also circulated stories that said Uncle Rulon complained that Warren had taken his job away and that he wanted it back. On the rare occasions when Uncle Rulon appeared in public, no one was allowed to talk to him and only a few of the chosen were allowed to shake his hand.

One of the most noticeable changes was that girls were being a.s.signed in marriages at younger and younger ages. When Uncle Rulon first came to power, girls didn't marry until they were over twenty. After his first stroke, the age dropped into the late teens. The sicker he got, the younger the brides in the community became. I remember when Uncle Rulon married a fourteen-year-old girl to her stepfather. Warren had taken the girl's biological father away from her mother and excommunicated him. Then he a.s.signed her mother to another man. Several months later, the fourteen-year-old girl was married to the same man as her mother.

I was determined to protect Betty. But I also knew I couldn't do it and stay in the community. Harrison was still too sick to attempt an escape. Bryson was fragile, but gaining strength. Making them stable and strong was my priority. All our lives depended on it.

Harrison's infection cleared, but a week later he developed another. This went on for months. He would be admitted to the hospital, be discharged, but yo-yo back in a week or two. Dr. Smith thought Harrison would need to have the port out because it was causing his infections. The surgeon felt that we should give it a little more time and see if the condition could resolve itself.

Then Luke had his accident.

Luke was Merril and Ruth's seventeen-year-old son. He was working construction in Page and had a dirt bike-something usually frowned upon in our culture because they're unsafe. Boys who ride them are considered rebellious. So no one in the rest of the family knew about it.

A police officer found Luke unconscious by the side of the road. A life flight took him from the local hospital in Page to the one in St. George. Merril's office was notified that a parent needed to be there soon after Luke's flight arrived to sign papers in case he needed emergency surgery. Luke was in critical condition. His spleen was bleeding and surgery might be the only way it could be stopped.

Merril and Barbara were on their way to his motel in Caliente when the news reached them. Merril didn't want to drive all the way back to St. George, so he called his son Leroy and told him to go to the hospital, check on Luke, and call him back.

Leroy, who was in his twenties, found his brother, who told him he was okay and had nothing more than a bad b.u.mp on his head. When this was reported back to Merril, he wondered why he'd been told Luke was in critical condition. A b.u.mp on the head was no big deal.

That night Leroy stopped by our house on his way home from work. Ruth had prepared the meal that night and was serving up soup and hot bread when he arrived.

"I just stopped by the hospital to check on Luke like Father asked," Leroy said. "He seems to be doing just fine."

Ruth looked shocked. "What? Why is Luke in the hospital?"

"Didn't Father tell you Luke was in an accident with his dirt bike today?"

She shook her head. "No, I haven't talked to Father today. When did Luke get a dirt bike?"

"I think Father let him get it quite a while ago. But he's doing fine. I'm sure Father would have told you if there was anything to worry about," Leroy said Ruth cared deeply for her children when she was stable. She picked up the phone in the kitchen and immediately called Merril.

"Father, Leroy is telling me that Luke is in the hospital and that he had an accident on his dirt bike."

There was silence while Ruth absorbed whatever Merril had to say. She continued. "But Father, I think I better go to the hospital tonight and check on Luke. I want to make sure he's really all right."

Ruth listened some more and then hung up. I could see that her hands were shaking. She finished the dishes and told us how worried she was about Luke. "But Father doesn't think that if I go there will be anything to do there anyway. He thinks it's important for me to stay home and take care of the family."

Ruth seemed to be trying hard to convince herself that this was something she wanted to do-even though there were four other wives at home. She was clearly upset and complained the next morning that she had not been able to sleep.

Merril and Barbara decided to go to Las Vegas the following day on business. Merril thought he might make it to the hospital later that day.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, the surgeon monitoring Luke couldn't understand why no parent had yet arrived on the scene. She couldn't operate until the forms were signed. If there was an emergency, Luke's life could be in jeopardy because of his parents' negligence.

The surgeon called Ruth and explained how serious his condition was. While his vital signs were good, he still was not stable. Ruth called Merril and asked if she could go to the hospital. She wanted to do what was right for Luke.

Merril ripped into her and told her he had everything under control. Her only concern, he pointed out, should be to do the will of her husband.

After Ruth called, Merril called his oldest son, Fred. Fred's second wife, Josette, was in the hospital with her sick baby. She went to check on Luke and asked him how he was doing. He said he felt better.

While they were chatting, the surgeon arrived and mistook Josette for Luke's mother. "I'm so glad you finally found a way to get to the hospital," she said. "I've been doing everything I can to get ahold of you!"

"How do you think he's doing?" Josette asked out of genuine curiosity.

The surgeon went through a detailed explanation of Luke's condition, explaining that even though he was holding his own, there was still a possibility that his spleen could rupture, which might require emergency surgery.

After she'd finished explaining Luke's status, the surgeon told Josette that she didn't look young enough to have a seventeen-year-old son.

"Oh, I'm not old enough to be Luke's mother. I'm not his mother."

The surgeon looked stricken. "Then who are you?"

Josette didn't want to say she was the second wife of Luke's half brother. So she said she was just a friend from Colorado City who was in the hospital with her sick baby and had dropped in to say h.e.l.lo.

The surgeon nearly lost it at this point. She was angry and frustrated that she couldn't connect with one of Luke's parents. It compromised her ability to ensure that he got the best care. She saw it as a matter of life and death.

Luke was less concerned. He was getting hungry. Because he might need to have surgery, he was only getting IV fluids.

Merril and Barbara decided at the end of the day in Las Vegas that they were too tired to make the trip to see Luke and postponed it for another day. Merril called Leroy and asked him to go back to the hospital.

When he did, he found his brother watching TV. "I'm so hungry I could die," Luke said.

"Well, a man can't live on no food. Let's go out and get you something to eat." Leroy helped Luke get up and disconnected his IV. He fished his clothes out of the plastic bag in the closet and the two boys walked past the nursing station and out of the hospital. Leroy bought a big steak dinner for the two of them.

A nurse walked into his room and found that the IV had been turned off and that Luke's bed was empty. The hospital went into a panic. Had their patient been kidnapped? The surgeon rushed back to the hospital. Someone called our house and asked to speak to Mrs. Jessop. There were five of us at home who answered to that name. The child who answered the phone asked the doctor which Mrs. Jessop she wanted to speak with.

Luke came back from dinner, got into his hospital gown, and got back into bed. A nurse saw him and ran back to the nursing station to say he'd returned. By this time, the surgeon had arrived back at the hospital. She wanted to know how it was possible that a patient who was in critical condition had disappeared from under their noses.

Then she went to Luke's room. He told her he'd been famished and had gone out with his brother to get something to eat. "Luke," she said, "you have an injured spleen, and although you may not feel sick you could bleed to death at a moment's notice. We can't feed you because if you need surgery and anesthesia you have to have an empty stomach. It's illegal for you to leave this hospital unless you are with a parent. Don't ever do this again!"

Luke agreed to stay put.

The hospital got Ruth on the phone and insisted she come to the hospital immediately to consult with the surgeon. I heard her call Merril.

"Father, I really think I better go to the hospital. This is the second call today. They're insisting I be there."

Merril scolded her over the phone. "Ruth, I have already given you instructions as to what I want you to do. Now, are you going to listen to your husband or insist on having it your own way? You know what will happen to you if you start demanding to do what you want instead of what your husband says is right."

Ruth was practically in tears. "I'm sorry for asking again, but I have been so worried about Luke. The hospital told me today he is in critical condition and if I didn't sign for the surgery he might die."

I could hear Merril shouting through the phone. "Ruth, I have everything under control. Are you going to listen to others rather than a man who has inspiration? I have had numerous people checking on Luke and he's fine. There is no reason for you to run to St. George. I will be coming through there and will take care of things. You need to settle down. There is no reason for you to get crossways with your husband. You're going to get into a condition with me that you will regret."

Ruth hung up the phone and fled to her room crying.

Merril and Barbara got to the hospital the next afternoon and took Luke out for his second steak dinner. Luke apparently told his father that he might need to have surgery, but Merril didn't care. Luke felt his father had more authority than the surgeon because he was inspired by G.o.d.

When the hospital staff saw he was gone again, they placed another call to our house, where none of the Mrs. Jessops had any idea where Luke was. That meant another trip back to the hospital for one very angry surgeon.

She confronted Luke again. He told her he'd promised not to leave the hospital with anyone who wasn't his parent, but his father had come. "My father told me it would be all right to eat," Luke said.

The surgeon could not believe Merril had not tried to speak to anyone involved with Luke's care. She had been trying for two days to speak with one of his parents, to no avail.

Merril and Barbara were pleased that they'd been able to take Luke out to dinner. They thought he might be lonely at the hospital, so they decided to ask Leroy to take their twelve-year-old son Tommy to the hospital to spend the night.

When Luke's nurse found him watching TV with his twelve-year-old half brother, she was confused because visiting hours were over. Luke told her Tommy was spending the night because his father didn't want him to be alone.

When she explained that was against hospital policy, Luke said that Leroy had left an hour ago and there was no way for Tommy to go home.

The hospital called Merril, who agreed to have Tommy picked up. But Merril did nothing about it and went to bed. The next morning, Leroy was sent to pick him up.

The surgeon told Luke the next day that he could go home in another twenty-four hours if he remained stable. The hospital notified Merril, who then sent for Ruth.

"Well, Ruth, the hospital just called and said Luke will be coming home tomorrow. He's doing just fine. All you need to do is listen to your husband and things will work out. I hope this will be a lesson to you. There was no need for you to have kept calling me. G.o.d has protected your son despite your disobedience and your constant questioning. You should be thankful that you have a husband G.o.d loves who would protect your son despite your rebellion."

Ruth quivered with emotion. "Father, I am sorry for asking to do differently than you requested. I am grateful to be married to you. I am grateful that G.o.d protected Luke in spite of my rebellion. Please forgive me and have patience with me for what I have done."

Merril laughed smugly. "Of course, Ruthie. I will forgive you if you learn from this and see that it doesn't happen again."

Ruth spoke softly. "Yes, Father, I have learned to never question you again. Thank you for your forgiveness."

I heard this in Merril's office because he had sent for me. Merril was giving me a "correction." If I would be as obedient to his will as Ruth, G.o.d's love would allow Harrison to get better. What Merril was able to manipulate-as if he needed an excuse-was that there was no apparent medical reason doctors could offer to explain why Harrison wasn't coming out of his spasms. The doctors had said that there was a possibility that Harrison could emerge from the spasms and be completely normal again. This was the kindling that Merril used to stoke the fires of his accusations toward me about the consequences of my rebellion.

Luke was discharged the next day. His brothers picked him up and he walked out of the hospital without signing any papers. This created yet another uproar. The hospital called and insisted that Ruth come back, sign the discharge papers, and talk to his doctor about Luke's follow-up care.

Ruth explained the situation to Merril. He attacked her for her impudence and warned her that he might not be so forgiving of her behavior if she couldn't learn to leave well enough alone.

Ruth was practically shaking when she left Merril's office. I witnessed endless episodes of this kind of behavior. Merril would berate her over almost anything, as he did the rest of us. What was different about Ruth was that she was less capable of outsmarting him and defending herself.

The hospital called several days later, this time about the bill. Ruth told them to speak to Merril. He informed her that Luke's bill was her responsibility. "The way I see it," Merril said, "is that you are a single mother with sixteen children and I don't give you any money. So I think the hospital will work with you and help you out."

Child Protective Services informed Merril several weeks later that he was being investigated because of Luke's hospitalization. Merril was warned that he could lose his children if he was found to be abusing them. Merril screamed at the investigator over the phone, "Who do you think you are, calling and questioning me about my parenting? The way I parent my children is n.o.body's business." He told the man from CPS to go to h.e.l.l.

But the next day, the investigator showed up at our house. This was a rare occurrence. Child Protective Services rarely came into the community and hardly ever took children away from their abusive parents. Victims were so routinely sent back to perpetrators that people stopped making reports. My experience was that for the most part, Child Protective Services looked the other way at the endemic abuse that was happening in our community because it was easier than investigating large polygamous families.

The minute Merril saw the man from CPS show up, he started screaming at him and told him to leave at once. The man insisted on talking to Luke. Merril refused. Luke heard all the shouting and went outside. He convinced Merril to allow him to talk to the man, and the three of them met in Merril's office. Then the investigator talked to Luke alone.

Luke said that his parents didn't understand the rules at the hospital and that there had never been any ill intent on their part. The investigator promised to write a full report. No one ever heard from him again. I was not surprised.

What did surprise me was that Luke's surgeon, who also took care of Harrison, had a completely different att.i.tude toward Harrison and me when she saw us the next time. The pediatrician felt strongly that Harrison's port should come out because the infection hadn't cleared. But the surgeon disagreed and refused. Her concern was that if this port came out there wouldn't be a way to put another one in. That's because there are only several veins large enough to hold a port. Once those accesses are exhausted, there are no other options. She finally agreed to take it out but made it very clear to me that she would never do another surgery on Harrison and that she was the only surgeon in the area capable of doing a procedure like this. If we ever needed to attempt something like this again, we would have to take Harrison back to Phoenix.

Her att.i.tude toward me seemed harsh. I suspected that she'd put two and two together and realized Harrison and Luke had the same father. She had always been friendly toward me. Now she acted as though she didn't want to have anything to do with us.

I was so upset that Merril put his children at risk through medical neglect. I hated that the surgeon thought I was as neglectful of my children as Ruth and Merril were. Neither she nor my pediatrician knew anything about the polygamous lifestyle that I was living.

We never never talked about polygamy to outsiders. We lived in fear of outsiders. Even when I had a long relations.h.i.+p with physicians, as I did with Harrison's doctors, I had no way of really knowing if I could trust them. I could not take any risks because if Merril ever found out that I had told the truth about my life to anyone outside the community I would have been sentenced to h.e.l.l in the afterlife and shunned by my community in this life. talked about polygamy to outsiders. We lived in fear of outsiders. Even when I had a long relations.h.i.+p with physicians, as I did with Harrison's doctors, I had no way of really knowing if I could trust them. I could not take any risks because if Merril ever found out that I had told the truth about my life to anyone outside the community I would have been sentenced to h.e.l.l in the afterlife and shunned by my community in this life.

Warren Becomes the Prophet

By springtime in 2002, it felt like I'd been given a reprieve. Harrison's staph infections stopped once his port was removed, and Bryson emerged from his first fragile months into a st.u.r.dy and healthy baby. He was nursing so steadily that I had extra milk. This gave me an idea.

I decided to give my surplus breast milk to Harrison. I had read that breast milk was the best nutrition for balancing the immune system. I'd also read that the fat in breast milk could help in repairing the myelin sheath, which is the protective covering around nerves. Harrison's immune system had chewed away at his nerves' myelin sheath, which contributed to his severe nerve pain. I thought my breast milk might help compensate for some of the damage.

I began expressing milk every night and putting it into Harrison's feeding tube. Watching the milk slide into the tube, then into him, I hoped for even the tiniest miracle. Harrison and I had been through so much together and had a wordless, profound intimacy. I loved him beyond measure.

My breast milk was also a potential lifeline for the rest of us: once I got both boys physically strong enough, I could take all my children and escape. Bryson was thriving. The real challenge was Harrison. I had to get him stronger. We were going to the doctor at least once a week and I was constantly on the phone with her. If only my breast milk could make Harrison grow and balance his immune system. If only.

But I also had to teach Harrison to swallow. He'd done it for the first year of his life, but once he got sick and had a feeding tube, he stopped. My goal was to get him to swallow something every day. The initial weeks were h.e.l.l. I'd put food in his mouth; he'd scream and spit it out. He was a fighter. He fought me with food.

Pizza was my salvation. It had once been Harrison's favorite food. After three weeks, he swallowed a tiny bit of pizza. I was elated. What hope! If he ate and grew stronger, he could save us all.

It took four months, but Harrison finally began to eat different foods, and he became voracious. I was so relieved; he'd been so starved by his cancer, infections, and spasms. Harrison began to seem happier and more stable. There were days when I felt overjoyed, but I hid it. No one could know what I was thinking.

One night when Bryson was six months old I woke up from a deep and dead sleep. Something was wrong. I knew it. I had trained myself to fly out of bed when an alarm sounded on one of Harrison's machines. I raced to his room to turn it off before he awoke. But this time when I got there, everything was silent. The machines were all working, but it was too quiet. Harrison must have stopped breathing! But I looked at the oximeter by his crib and saw that his oxygen levels were normal. The feeding pump was working and Harrison's little chest was heaving up and down in a natural rhythm.

Suddenly I realized what was different. Harrison's loud, spasmodic breathing had stabilized. He was breathing normally. Once he was sedated at night his body would not spasm. He was unconscious. But the spasms went to his lungs and made his breathing sound like hiccups.

The hiccups were gone. I sat on the floor next to Harrison's crib. I was shaking all over. He had been on breast milk now for six months and something was happening. For the first time in two years I knew in my bones that Harrison was improving. It was a miracle. My secret miracle.

Harrison began to sleep for longer periods of times. Even with a maximum dose of sedatives, he had never slept for more than six hours. I knew I would need medicine when we fled, so I gradually began to reduce the doses of his drugs-in tiny and incremental ways-and built up a small stockpile. Even when I cut back on his sedation at night Harrison began sleeping for eight hours.

Harrison became so healthy that I took him to the doctor only once a month. He still needed Versed, but much less than before. His anxiety attacks diminished dramatically three months after his breathing improved. Maybe, just maybe, he could come out of those awful and debilitating spasms. Oh, how I wanted my little boy back. His doctor didn't seem that impressed by his small improvements; she was looking for a big change, like the cessation of his spasms. But each small change filled my wellspring of hope. Escape was on the horizon.

One afternoon in early spring I asked Cathleen to help me take Harrison for a walk when she came home from work. It had been another day of constant screaming because of his spasms.

Cathleen told me what people had been talking about all day at work-Warren Jeffs had kicked more than a hundred teenage boys out of the community within the past month.

"It's such a shame that so many mothers are producing so many unworthy sons," she said. "These children are choosing rebellion over doing the work of G.o.d and supporting our prophet."

I was speechless. I had been so consumed with Harrison's care that I didn't realize teenage boys were being kicked out of the FLDS in significant numbers. Audrey had told me once about a fourteen-year-old boy and his brother who were told to leave because they were accused of being gay. h.o.m.os.e.xuality was seen as an abomination and never tolerated. I'd asked Audrey how the mother of these boys felt when her sons were dumped on a highway and told never to return. Audrey had said the woman was ashamed and heartbroken that she had raised a couple of creeps. She was embarra.s.sed and tried not to think about what her sons had become. But I'd thought that was an isolated incident. I had no idea that boys were being kicked out in significant numbers.