Part 19-Y, Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer —
and Polygamy On The Down-Low
Is God then so ignorant of things,
so unacquainted with the human heart
that He has to find out about a man by testing him?
Of course not. It is in order that a person
may find out about himself.
There are things in a person which are
hidden from the person in whom they are.
And they won’t come out, or be opened up, or discovered,
except through tests and trials and temptations.
If God stops testing,
it means the Master is stopping teaching …
you do not know yourself unless you learn yourself
through trial, temptation, and testing.
St. Augustine of Hippo (430 A.D.)
I left off in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On The Down-Low, Part 19-X” relating:
When my husband Bill came to bed around 3 AM, our first night in Guadalajara, Mexico, I approached him to make love, having no idea gay Billy and his beaus had barely finished a sexual rendezvous–NO idea such things existed. He liked to keep it that way.
I only knew I was crushed by his quick finish and even quicker falling asleep on top of me. And crushed by the dead weight of his limp body I held in my arms as I struggled to breathe in between sobs and supporting his heavy muscular frame — about the only warmth I had felt from him the whole time there — or since I don’t know where. (After this and all my other suffering and sorrows with him, if I weren’t so civilized (and though I would never, ever do such a thing) I feel I would like to kill him now. Then I remember he’s already dead.)
On my second day in Guadalajara with Bill, after touring some of its beautiful landmarks with Steve as our guide, Bill took me with them to eat at a swazzi French restaurant where apparently one of their handsome Mexican contacts worked as a Waiter.
Daring as ever, when this Waiter came to take our orders, Billy and Stephen spoke with him in French — using an odd pug-nosed accent! (They had learned French in school and while on their Mormon French mission in the late 1950s.)
The nasality amongst the three carried on into their Spanish conversation! I only knew a few words in Spanish. No French. But, as with other weird things I’d witnessed on this trip with these two Homo’s, I never quit wondering why they used that odd nasality. I’d never heard Bill nor Stephen speak like that before nor since…but I was never around them very much either.
Eventually, my wondering about the strange things witnessed on this trip bore fruit. After I escaped the cult, became more educated and experienced, listened, watched, and read for answers–It helped that I had been around the block a few times too–I discovered, among other things, pug-nosed nasal speech was a secret code homosexuals used to connect.
The “connection” with the Waiter worked: That night, while climbing the loft to our bunk, Bill raised his voluminous voice and bellowed–so I would believe I was the guilty party (victimizing the victim):
“I”m not taking you anywhere else with me and Steve! I’m going to punish you for coming on this trip when I didn’t say you could! You just hopped a ride! So, for our next four nights here, you are to stay on your side of the bed. And DON’T touch me!”
Isn’t it odd: While hidden away in the big city where Billy was free to enjoy the homosexual spree, he didn’t want me … couldn’t use me, is more like it. But narcissistic Billy’s punishing me was simply an excuse to save his sexual juices for gay rendezvous!
On the truck trip to and from Guadalajara, when there weren’t any gay guys but Steve to save his sex for, Bill had NO problem responding to my sexual advances — even though one of Stephen’s wives was also riding in the back of the truck with us — whichever one was not sitting up front with Steve while Bill relinquished his envied spot next to Steve to get some sleep so he could take the wheel next.
So, on our way back home to Colonia LeBaron, bisexual Bill’s punishment ended as quickly as it began! If I made the first move, this sex addict was back to responding then falling asleep on me immediately after his three-minute screw, wherein he took advantage of my nubile body and how well he fit — when we thought the other person in the back of the truck was asleep.
I was so in love with Bill and so bluffed by Bill and my Mormon fundamentalist indoctrination, I took whatever I could get whenever I could get it — which was never nearly enough … nor ever often enough.
Continued in “My Memoir: Esther LeBaron McDonald de Spencer — And Polygamy On The Down-Low, Part 19-Z